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01-04
[Poor tape quality--inaudible to start. Children singing?
Applause.]
I look far ower the Ythanside, tae Fyvie's lache
lithe lands,
Tae Auchterless and Bennachie and the mist blue Grampians,
Sair tae the hull o Benagoak and scunnered o the fairm,
Gin I bit dar't, gan I bit dar't, I'd flit the comin term.
[Applause. Children singing.]
05
I gaed doon by Memsie, I
heard an aul man speir,
Far's the bonnie dialect that eens wis spoken here?
[Applause.]
06
[RS] Thank you very much
for your ?? bonnie dialect, we heard the…. Hello! Fu
are ye? I'm comin creepin, I'm comin creepin ben here! The
kids for a start--come on, clap [Applause.]. Alfie Hunter,
Robert starting off wi that wee bit recitation to remind you
of where we are--if you needed reminding. Alfie and Robert
thank you again. [Applause.]. We've hin a marvellous day the
day, a really marvellous day. I canna describe it any more.
I'm sure it's gone beyond what the organisers expected. Because
to start any new festival is affa difficult. But here we are,
500 hunner folk in here, 200 folk at anither hall, waiting
for the overspill! Aye! Yes they are. Their concert starts
at 10 o'clock I think, I dinna ken [laughs]. I'm delighted
to be part of this evening here, the very first Buchan Heritage
festival. And I'm going to introduce you to the boys at the
back here--we've got members from the Buchan Fiddlers, and
we've got fae MacDuff--MacDuff, far's the MacDuffers! [Laughs,
applause.] I didnae say far's the duffers, I says where's
the MacDuffers I said. And ye a put up her haunds didn't ye!
And we're mair or less. And we've got the Meldrum Fiddlers
too, where's the Meldrum [Applause.]. And the same hands ging
up eh--they play a ower the place. And the Heritage players!
Where's the Heritage players? [Applause.]. Same hands again--there
they are. Opening selection I think is The Hills of Alva,
let me introduce conductor Bill Hardie! [Applause.] Ye got
through Bill?
[Fiddles play.]
[Applause.]
[BH] Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen.
Now we'd like to continue with a quickstep, 6/8 time. 'The
Scottish Division'
[Applause.]
[RS] Delighted to welcome you back again. Bill
Hardie that great exponent of fiddle music, and there he is
getting his trusty crews behind him. To Bill again, and the
fiddlers thanks very much indeed [Applause.]. Yes we'll be
back later. Oh ho, there wisnae a plain left Fogieloan, is
there a ?? in Fogieloan, is it? I'd better say there is. The
time they were building the air terminal at Sullom Voe, and
there they were up there ye see, and they were fleein folk
up fae here, up tae Shetland tae build the terminal at Sullom
Voe. On bonus money, a few ?? a fiver a time, awa doon here
again, tae Fogieloan jist enough time, one kiss o the wife,
roon the table and back up again. [Laughs.] Tae Shetland they
wint. Well one day a plane left Shetland. Aboard there wis
the pilot, the Englishman here--any English folk in the night
eh? Any English people here? (Aye). I'm nae carin tippence
[laughs]. And there was the two loons fae Fogieloan comin
awa hame again. And jist, the plane set off. And suddenly
the pilot says, I'm very sorry chaps, the pilot says, very
sorry chaps, both engines have packed in. And there's only
three parachutes for the four of us. Whoever gets the parachute
is saved, the next one like me, total disaster, awa doon there
wi the plane. And he says, I've got my parachute, I'm away,
ta, ta. And doon he went. Left the Englishman and the two
loons fae Fogieloan. And there they are fummelin aboot in
the dark--will ye explain tae at English mannie fit fummelin
means [laughs]. Well, fit's fummelin? Fummelin's fummelin,
isn't it! [laughs]. There they are, fummelin aboot in the
dark. And suddenly the Englishman says, I've got my parachute,
I'm away as well chaps, bye bye. And doon he went, left the
two loons fae Fogieloan. One parachute between the two o them.
Fit are we gan tae dae noo Geordie? Geordie says, I think
we'll hae a dram! [laughs]. He says, how could you possibly
think o havin a dram! Whoever finds the last parachute's saved,
the other lad away, total disaster wi the plane! He said,
dinna you worry aboot at--ye see yon English lad. He's awa
doon wi my piece bag on his back! [laughs].
10
Fit are we waitin for? Nicky Tams.
Fan I wis only ten year auld I left the pairish
skweel,
Ma faither fee'd me tae the Mains to chaw his milk and meal.
I first put on ma nairra breeks ti hap ma spinnle trams,
An happit roon ma knappin knees a pair o' Nicky Tams.
It's first I gaed on for baillie's loon an syne
I gaed on for third.
An syne of course I had to get the horseman's grip an word.
A loaf o breid to be ma piece, a bottle for drinking drams,
Bit ye canna ging through the cauf-hoose door withoot yer
Nicky Tams.
I'm coortin' bonnie Annie noo, Rob Tamson's
kitchie deem,
She is five-an-forty and I am seventeen.
She clarts a muckle piece to me wi different kinds o jam,
An' tells me ilka nicht she admires ma Nicky Tams.
We started oot ae Sunday till the kirkie for
to gang,
My collar it wis unco ticht, ma breeks were neen ower lang;
I had ma Bible in ma pooch, likewise ma buik o Psalms,
Fan Annie roars, "Ye muckle gype, tak aff yer Nicky Tams!"
So unco sweir, I took them aff, the lassie for
to please,
But aye ma breeks they lurkit up aroon aboot ma knees.
A wasp gaed crawlin up ma leg in the middle o the Psalms,
So nivver again will I rig the kirk without ma Nicky Tams.
I've aften thocht I'd like to be a bobbie on
the Force,
Or maybe I'll get on the carts tae drive a pair o horse,
But fitever it's ma luck to be, the bobbies or the trams,
I'll never forget the happy days I wore ma Nicky Tams.
[Applause.]
[RS] Thank you gentlemen. Thank you very much.
All bookings via me--Aberdeen 703485. [laughs]. Expecting
bookings by tomorrow. Weel ?? ye leave us. Right ?? accordion,
got a lovely music stand here, bought fae Cocky Hunter's twenty-five
year ago. Gettin gey decrepit kind noo, on piano is ??. [Applause.]
[Accordion and piano.]
[Applause.]
[RS] Thank you. All the best to you. Rory Rutherford
and Neil Coleman. Thank you. Well we introduced the prizes,
gave out prizes, we omitted to give out a medal, and that
was a medal for the piping. But we've got the Junior Pipe
Champion of the day here with us just now. George Taylor of
Broughty Ferry [Applause.]. George tells me his teacher is
Donald Morrison, ye canna get much better than that, can ye
indeed. Hardly wi that teacher I'm sure. So let's have your
winning selection today. Thank you.
[Junior Pipe Champion plays.]
13
[RS] What we're going to do now is present the Junior Verse.
This is the Doric Verse, the Junior Winner coming up for a
start to give us her recitation today, Morven Jessiman. [Applause.].
'Dominie' by JC Milne
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
And aye he fustled sae lood and clear,
For his bonnie bit world gaed birlin roon,
Like a weel-played hurdy gurdy's tune.
In a the skweel there, nivver a soun,
But o hard-vrocht teachers daein their work,
And littleins learning their lessons! Hark!
Nae ae wag o an ill-faurt tongue,
Nae ae whisper o trouble to come,
Nae a clood as big as yer haun,
Tae darken the day o the learned man.
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
And aye he fustled sae lood and clear,
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat Fa's there?
It's me, Mistress Broon, tae kaim yer hair,
For garrin me hirple up yer stair,
Tae tell ye I keepit oor Jeannie at hame,
For twa-three days wi a rummlin wame,
A dominie ocht hae mair adee,
Than send yon officer body tae me,
She'll be back find she's better! Fit mair wid ye hae?
Pit that in yer fustle ma mannie. Guid day!
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
And aye he fustled sae loud and clear ,
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat. Fa noo?
It's me, Tammy Tough, boo-hoo, boo-hoo,
It's me Tammy Tough, wi a message for you,
It's fae ma faither, he asked me tae speir,
Fit's wrang wi ma sums! That wifie's a leear,
He did them himsel, there's fower market wrang,
Forbye the wifie's been teaching ower lang,
And ma faither he'd like ye tae ken,
At a wifie's nae ees tae a laddie o ten.
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
And aye he fustled sae lood and clear,
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat?
Meggins alive, and fa micht be that in sic a like steer?
Oh it's you Mistress Watt.
Dominie, Dominie, fit's tae be daen,
A little bit lassickies swalliet a preen!
I steed her a twa three meenits on her croon,
But as sure as I'm livin, it widnae come doon,
So I thocht tae masel, I'll warrant nae doobt,
There's nithing a dominie canna tak oot!
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
And aye he fustled sae lood and clear,
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat. Fut noo?
He gaed tae the door. Good morning to you!
Draps o swite on dominie's broo!
HM Inspectors. Twa o them fegs!
HM Inspectors. Twa orra glegs.
Come to inspect and examine the skweel,
Tae hinner the work and speir like the deil,
Steer up the biggin fae boddom tae tap,
Gaitherin sheelicks instead o the crap.
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
Nae langer he fustled sae lood and clear,
For a his world gaed birlin roon,
Like a ram-shackle mull on a fair in toon.
And a the skweel there, sic a like soon,
O yon twa mannikies daen their wark,
Badgerin the bairnies and teachers. Hark!
'Yes Miss Brown, your children are slow,
Their spelling is poor and their grammar, you know',
HM Inspectors--the deil tak them a',
They're niver mair welcome than fin they're awa.
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
Nae langer he fustled sae lood and clear,
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat,
Loshtie be here, is it you Mistress Pratt?
Fairly ma mannie, and jist look at that!
A lang nibbit laitter fae aul Miss McCra,
Complainin young Kirsty kens nithing ava,
Ma mither kent nithin and she got a man,
I kent naething and I got a man,
But her, wi her lairnin and lang-nibbit pen,
Kens mair aboot screevin than coortin the men.
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
Nae langer he fustled sae lood and clear,
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat. Fut neist?
He tuggit his beard and he thumpit his breist,
A constable dyod. Hoots man, haud yer weesht,
I jist lookit in for a meenit or twa,
Tae tell ye yer laddies are brakkin the law,
Ye ken yon biggin that stan's on the brae?
Weel man, it hisnae a windae left the day,
I doot yer laddies are gey oot o haund,
Afore they go brakkin the la' o the land.
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
Nae langer he fustled sae lood and clear,
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, dyod sic a like din?
Oh, it's you Granny Mutch. Aye I jist drappit in,
Tae hae a bit word aboot Alickie Sim,
Tae speir gin ye coundae gie Alick a haun,
Wi his grammar and spellin, for fin he's a man,
Alickie wints tae be jist like yersel.
A dominie, dyod, wi a fustle and bell,
A bonnie fite collar, nae blaudin his sark,
And winnin gran wages for gey little work
Dominie sat on his furlin cheer,
And furled and fustled and sang sae clear,
For loshtie a letter had come fae the toon!
'You are due to retire at the end of June',
Aye, sure aneugh! Twis a written doon,
A' written doon in black and in fite,
In twa-three weeks, like a laddie gan gyte,
He'd be weel an awa fae the work and the steer,
Weel an awa fae his furlin cheer,
Awa on the braes wi nivver a care,
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, deil tak ye, fa's there?
[Applause.]
[RS] Well done. We switch now from the prize
winners to the special guests at's been asked here tonight.
And a man that loves the Doric. Can I welcome now, with Evelyn
Mundie on piano, Duncan Murray [Applause.].
15
[DM] Thank you.
Oh gin I were a baron's heir and the cold night
rain begems in yer hair
And ?? fair, lassie wid ye loo me?
And could I tak ye tae the toon and show ye bra sichts mony
an een,
And the busk ye fine in silk and gold, lassie wad ye loo me?
Oh should you be content to prove in lowly life
and fading love,
A hairt that not an earth could move, lassie would ye loo
me?
And if ?? wi the sky, say wid ye trail a forest ??,
And walk wi me sae merrily, lassie would ye loo me?
And when the bra moon glistens ower, ?? and
heathery ??,
Wid ye no greet that we're sae ??, lassie, for I loo ye.
For I hae nowt tae offer ye, and ?? fae mine, nae ??,
Nor am I come o high degree lassie, but I loo ye.
[Applause.]
Well, I ??, but I suppose that could've been
waur. That reminds me I suppose it reminds some o the rest
o ye folk that we meet in our, telling stories, and I taught
them with by saying, ach I niver mind it could hae been waur.
There's the famous story of the, the orra man, Pitmains o
Cairncaig, far are ye Jimmy. Aye, aye. Pitmains o Caircaig,
and he wis eens o that lads, billies, that ye wid say, ach
weel terrible thing happened--and he'd aye say, 'Aye weel,
but it could hae been waur'. Weel now Geordie wis a bit o
lad and the ither lads on the fairm thocht, ach weel we'll
play a joke on him. So they would in fact mak up a story when
he come back on the Monday. So fine at piece time, at 9 o'clock,
half brak in the morning wi the tea and the bap, and their
sittin roon, and they're sayin, foo the devilie, oh a lang,
lang, amon foreign, like Laurencekirk ye see, ma brither said
Geordie. He said, onything happen? Well, they said, aye, a
terrible thing happened yesterday. The minister went hame
fae the kirk and found his wife in bed wi the session clerk.
He took oot his gun and he shot the session clerk, he shot
his wife, then he went doon the stair and blew his ane bairns
out. And a Geordie said, oh me, ach weel, could hiv been waur.
And the lads said, no, no, Geordie, na na. How could it have
been waur? Weel, it could hae been Widnesday, and it could
hae been me! [Laughs, applause.]
16
Now a lang time ago some
o the auld folk here the night may remember a young, admiring
these young bonny lads wi their full dress kilts, isn't it
lovely to see them there? Well I was once there, a long time
ago, when I was a young student. The full Robert Wilson stuff,
you know the full belt, and the kilt and the front tabs at
the theatre. If I may ring a memory, a little touch of nostalgia,
because that's what it is tonight, isn't it folks! Let's gie
a song at goes something like this.
'Bonnie Strathyre'
There are meadows in Lanark and mountains in
Skye,
And pastures in Hielands and Lowlands forbye,
But there's nae greater luck than the heart could desire,
Than to herd the fine cattle in bonnie Strathyre.
Though some in the touns o' the Lowlands seek
fame,
And some will gang sodgerin' far from their hame,
Yet I'll aye herd my cattle, and bigg my ain byre,
And love my ain Maggie in bonnie Strathyre.
Turn that up, come on dirl it up a wee bittie.
19
At a little craft upon the
hill,
Roon the neuk frae Sprottie's Mill,
Tryin a his life the time tae kill,
Lived Geordie McIntyre.
He hid a wife as weel's himsel,
And a dauchter as black's aul Nick himsel,
Wi ?? time haud awa the smell
At the muckin o Geordie's byre
O, the graip wis tint, the besom wis deen,
The barra widna row its leen,
O siccan a sottar wis abody in,
At the muckin o Geordie's byre.
Ye see the difference, the same sangie, a comin
ower the same wey.
20
I of course, down in my missionary
work down in England, trying to convert the natives [laughs,
applause]… Now I hid tae convert the natives, I had to
translate that, Muckin o Geordie's Byre, mark you. The Cleansing
of George's Cowshed [said in English accent; laughs]. But
if you are in a mood for that I was spikkin about John Strachan,
I was speaking about aul times and I canna help saying Jimmy
and a the rest o ye, what a grand sight it is to see you maintaining
and bringing up these young folks in the traditions, because
that's what it's about. It's about music to express you being
happy, and to communicate that happiness to others. And what
a grand party you've got, and I'm very pleased to think back
on John Strachan. We used to broadcast fae Crichie, and we
used tae aye get the Meal and Ale, and why not, another cue,
for McGinty wi his meal and ale.
This is nae a sang o love nor nae yet a song
o money,
Faith, it's nothin very peetifae, it's nothin very funny,
But there's Hielan scotch, and Lowlan scotch,
And butterscotch and honey, there's neen o them for a',
There's a mixture o the three.
An there's nae a word o baith brose an saaty
bannocks,
Na and pancakes or Pess eggs for them wi dainty stomachs,
It's a aboot a meal and ale at happened at Balmanacks,
At McGinty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.
An they were howlin in the kitchen like a caravan
o tinkies,
Aye an some were playin ping pong and ithers tiddly widdly
winkies,
They're up the hall and doon the hall ye nivver sa sic jinkies
,
As McGinty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.
Noo McGinty's pig hid broken lowse and wint
up tae the lobby,
Where he'd opened shoved the pantry door and come upon the
toddy,
An he took kindly tae the stuff like ony human body,
At McGinty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.
Miss McGinty she come ben the hoose, the wey
wis dark and crookit,
She gaed haelsted gowrie ower the pig, for it she nivver lookit,
An she let oot a skirl that would a paralysed a teuchat ,
At McGinty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.
They were howlin in the kitchen like a caravan
o tinkies,
Aye an some were playin ping pong and ithers tiddly widdly
winkies,
Up the hall and doon the hall ye nivver sa sich jinkies,
As McGinty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.
You remember the story of the pigs for ??
Eely pigs and jeely pigs and pigs for huddin
butter,
Aye, but this pig wis greetin foo and rowin in the gutter,
Till McGinty an his foreman trailed him oot upon a shutter,
Fae McGinty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.
O it's weary o the barley bree and weary for
a the wither,
Aye it's clartin him in wi dubs an drink they gang a weel
the gither,
But there's little doot McGinty's pig is wishin for anither,
O McGinty's meal-an-ales far the pig gaed on the spree.
An they were howlin in the kitchen like a caravan
o tinkies,
Aye an some were playin ping pong and tiddly widdly winkies,
They're up the hall and doon the hall ye nivver sa sich jinkies,
As McGinty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.
[Applause.]
[RS] Thank you very much Duncan. Welcome back
tae Buchan, that's a we can say, welcome back any time ye
like [Applause.]. In second place today, we had Rebecca Hunter
of Banchory winning the Junior Fiddle. And Rebecca is going
to play the slow Strathspey, Marcliffe, followed by the Strathspey,
the Smith Sae Gallant Fireman. And finishing off with a reel,
Forth Brig. Rebecca Hunter [Applause.].
[Plays violin.]
[Group Fiddle music]
[Applause.]
[Fiddle leader] Thank you very much ladies and
gentlemen. Now to continue, a group of marches. The 72nd Highlanders
fae ?? Aberdeen, The Pipers Cave, The Earl of Mansefield's
March, and Bonny Dunoon. And we're going to try and just imagine,
can just see those kilts swinging.
[Group fiddle music]
[Applause.]
[?] I'd like to introduce our next singer, who
eh, is a man who wears many hats, and would like to start
off by wearing his hat as Deputy Lord Lieutenant o the Coonty
o Aiberdeen! Mark Ellington. If he could find his way to ??
[Applause.]. Somebody's pinched your microphone! Oh it wis
me! [laughs].
24
[ME] Dear oh dear. I thought
you said you weren't letting the riff-raff in tonight. Right.
This is a fishing song from up of Peterhead way, and it's
called 'The Bonny Ships o Diamonds'. And it's got a chorus
that goes:
Cheer up me lads let your hearts never fail,
For the bonny ship the Diamond goes fishing for a whale.
The Diamond is a ship me lads,
For the Davis Straits she's bound,
And the quay it is all garnished,
With bonnie lassies round.
Now Thompson gives the orders,
To sail the ocean wide,
And the sun it never sets me lads,
Nor darkness dims the sky.
Cheer up me lads let your hearts never fail,
For the bonny ship the Diamond goes fishing for a whale.
Along the quay at Peterhead,
The lassies stand around,
With their shawls all pulled about their heads,
And the salt tears running down.
Well don't you weep my bonnie lass,
Though you be left behind,
For the rose will grow on Greenland's ice,
Before we change our mind.
Cheer up me lads let your hearts never fail,
For the bonny ship the Diamond goes fishing for a whale.
Well it be bright both day and night,
When the Greenland lads come home,
With a ship that's full of oil me boys,
And money to their name.
We'll make the cradles for to rock,
And the blankets for to tear,
And every lass in Peterhead,
Sing hushabye my dear!
Cheer up me lads let your hearts never fail,
For the bonny ship the Diamond goes fishing for a whale.
Here's a health to The Resolution,
Likewise the Eliza Swan,
Here's a health to the Battler of Montrose,
And The Diamond, ship of fame.
We wear the trousers o the white,
The jackets o the blue,
When we return to Peterhead,
We'll have sweethearts eneuch.
Cheer up me lads let your hearts never fail,
For the bonny ship the Diamond goes fishing for a whale.
For the bonny ship the Diamond goes fishing for a whale.
[Applause.]
25
[ME] Oh Charlie. A few years
ago he and I were involved organising a bothy ballad competition
in Turriff, which was a great success and never did we dream
when we started organising that, of the tremendous response
that would arise. We knew that people were interested in traditional
music, but I think that proved to a lot of us that there was
a tremendous interest, and I think tonight is a reconfirmation
of that, as is the Buchan Heritage Society. I just wish that
television and a lot of the rest of the media would take note
of the fact that people will come out and listen to traditional
music. Well, we live in hope, eh Charlie!
[CA] Yes.
[Applause.]
26
[ME] What are we going to
do?
[CA] Proceed in G, I'm going to sing ??, you're
going to play quietly [laughs]. Come on, give us a G or something.
I'll tell ye a tale o a canty auld body,
A ken speckled figure wis auld Wattie Broon,
A trustworthy hand at the mains o Drumochter,
Since the day he began tae work there as a loon.
And sine as a baillie he proved himsel canny,
His work conscientious, particular and clean,
Til the day that his maister said 'Wattie my mannie,
Ye'll tak the third pair their ca'd Princie and Jean'.
Now in a bonnie Scotland there wasnae a body,
As happy as Wattie wi his dandy pair,
He seen held his ane wi the laiddies a plooin,
And o he wis prood o his geldin and mare.
A fine pair o blacks, their likes in a hauner,
Their coats o a rich mossy ebony sheen,
He seen held his ane wi the laiddies a plooin,
And Wattie wis prood o his geldin and mare.
So Wattie aye bided content wi his duties ,
But life's foo o changes as abody kens,
Decreed that aul age claimed the twa o his beauties,
And tractors began tae appear at the mains.
Noo a steering wheel Wattie jist widnae be grippin,
He brocht on his orra man and didnae come clean,
But abody saw that doonhill he wis slippin,
For Wattie wis pinin for Princie and Jean.
Well noo his awa, his trachles are ended,
A God-fearin body that aye did his best,
His life wis a sermon, the mourners a kent it,
On Tuesday last week as we laid him tae rest.
Now we a hid a thocht, tho we didna divulge
it,
As wi hunkies we dabbit the tears fae wir een,
If him that wis born in a manger sae closet,
He'll be waitin for Wattie wi Princie and Jean.
[Applause.]
[RS] Let me introduce the Senior Verse and he's
going to do his winning version, or his winning poem today.
George Smith. In you come George. [Applause.].
27
[GS] Geordie Green. O fit
an affa folk wir in! We've a great piece o Aiberdeen, but
I canna jist gie ye a recitation wi'oot a story first. I bide
ower in Torphins and we're nae far fae the Duthie Park and
there's three lads the side o us keep bees. And there's een
o them affa success and there's ither twa niver gets honey.
So Geordie divn't gets honey met in wi Sandy that niver gets
honey either. Aye ??. He says, foos yer bees daein Sandy.
Grand, grand, he says, I've selt twa hunnert weicht o honey
aff a bee hive is year a'ready! Foo's yours daein. Nae sae
fine, he said, but I hopet ye widnae speir't. I'm ae feedin
mine. He says, fit wey dae ye get honey. So he telt him. He
says, he lets his bees oot at six o'clock ilkae mornin, and
he shuts the portholes at aicht o'clock and the bees mak honey
a day. So he's hame noo, Geordie, he's hame and he's spikkin
ower the dyke tae Jock and he says, div ye ken fit Sandy's
daein wi his bees? Oh I dinna ken, let them be bla'in aboot
them again is he. Aye, he says he's selt twa hunner weicht
o honey aff they hives a'ready and we're aye feedin oor bees.
That's the bit, he says, that taks a bit o beatin. Fit wey
div ye dae't. Well, he says, he tells me. I'll jist tell ye
exactly fit he said. He lets his bees oot at six o'clock every
mornin and opens the portholes, and they mak a beeline intae
the floo'ers in the Duthie Park and they jist lowd themsels
wi honey and they come back and he shuts them in at acht o'clock
and they mak honey a day. Oot at six, intae the Duthie Park,
back wi a lot o pollen, in at echt, and they mak honey a day.
Jock says, weel that's a damned lee, cause the Duthie Park
disnae open ere ten! [Laughs, applause.]
[Very hard to make out on tape:]
Oh sair it gars me greet tae tell,
Fit eens did Geordie Green befell,
It come aboot ey Geordie Green,
The orra loon fae Pickerstane,
Wis hewkin tansies in a park,
Wearied nae doot till his second wand.
Fan he begot tae lit a pipe,
The he had bocht fae Sandy Flyte,
The foreman, ??,
Far tatties grow like Geordie's feet.
Auld Thamas the pure Angus bull,
Wis quietly browsin on a hill,
Fan Geordie gar'd puff and bla,
And losh, he raised his heid ,
And sa the lowf that Geordie's guid pipe bowl,
The reed, reed lum o bogey roll,
Like arra fae archer's bow,
A Hielander agaid the foe,
Like crashin drum fae oot a mill,
A torrent ragin doon a hill,
Like thunner fae the cloods abeen,
Aul Thamas made for Geordie Green.
Geordie gawket like a dyeuk [laughs],
Look fa his pipe, threw doon his ??,
His legs tooked intae his ??,
??
For Geordie Green his ?,
His handicap agley his feet.
He'd won first prizes at the shows,
Twice in sheen, and thrice in hose,
But noo as he gaed rollin roon,
His shooder feistin up and doon,
His stubbly hair had staid on end,
... [Hard to make out.]
Geordie Green that I come hame tae Pikerstane,
And, and ?? oot a lid
It's broken ??
(Sobs)…
Far akey brae
I'll surely be a livin man in the 93.
For though the very deil's upon me,
In shape o beast at's like tae win me,
Geordie keekit ower his showder,
Thamas come like ??
He's almost like a foamin river
He's ?? raging ??
His heid wis like a batterin ram,
Geordie nearly took a dwam.
...
Like a ship ey oot at sea fan storm's a ragin,
?? he tummeled doon for deid,
Thamas come at sic a speed,
He lowpit right ower Geordie's heid,
?? till his feet
His nose ran reed, his teeth wis ??
His moleskin knees wis torn and tattered,
File Thamas pourin oot like thunder and muck,
And sic an ??
?? lowered his heid and gaed a look.
Geordie landed on his feet,
And the ?? road by New Seat.
Thamas looked on sair confoundered,
Sa his mair that he hid blundered,
Deil tak ma ??
Geordie got his second win,
Thamas lowpit on ahind
Geordie hid a ??
Thamas ??
Ilka shak road lik a deer
Far bogies chased him last new year
The gamey's staunin wi his tykes
Sa him lowpit ower the dyke
Dog ?? devil ?? the trees
The tinker's sittin on a stane
Lookit up and rubbed his een
Blinkie switch on a ?? tailed dun
??
Seen his folly tossed his heid
And ?? roon ??
Noo they're roon the cotter hoose
Geordie ?? a bit a geese
That's laid twa eggs, and skitered in't
And it wis a double yoker--it disnae maitter [laughs, applause]
Thamas tearin on ahin
?? fleein feet
Knockin ower the cotter's ??
Ganin fitties yella rooster
Flee like feathers fae a bowster
Ower the ?? down tae the ??
Geordie leavin half his sark
Sittin in the burrs ??
Sic a steer, it wisnae seen for mony a year
Black cloods gaithered in the sky
Wasties peacock began tae cry
Cra's gaed flee and hame tae reest
And Thamas looked like ??
Noo they're doon the ?? road
Like fury makin strat fer ??
...
Took her at a single stridey
Nearly ballin up his queets
Findin baith his faither's beets
In the middle o the burn
Thamas ??
He tossed the ring fae aff his nose
Geordie tripped up his hose
Gave the most unearthly a yell
As ?? his body shell
Sheets a lichtnin blazed abeen
Far they're crashing in atween
Rain come thrashin, splashin doon
Thamas ?? the body's croon
And ?? ??
?? gar'd the black cloods splat asunder
?? clattered past Whiterashes
Geordie cast anither glances
Doon the park, through the park
And ower the dyke
Sleekin, simmer, ?? tyke
Doon the ??, through the wid
Geordie weet his ??
?? Memsie
?? [laughs]
Jinkin back ?? [laughs]
Jinkin back tae Nether Mill
Ooer the brae and up the hill
Till they come tae Pickerstaen
Whaur truth tae tell puir Geordie Green
Gaed lowpin in an aul mill dam
And oot o there he niver come.
(Laughs, Applause).
Thamas looked and come awa
Mutterin slowly, ??
Geordie Green's nae man ava.
[Laughs, applause.]
[?] May I announce the Junior Orchestra--Louise
[applause].
[Piano, fiddle]
[Applause.]
[RS] Show you the stand up set today, cause
that was the winning group, or Group Section, Mary Milne.
Her hard work Mary puts into. Mary with her Junior Banchory
Strathspey and Reel Society. Congratulations. [Applause.]
[?] We're going to have a song now, at least
one song. If you play your cards richt, you might get two.
From the man that won the Bothy Ballad contest here today
and he also won the Traditional Singing Competition. A unique
double. It's not just unique because this is the first time
this event's been held. Willie Clark's going to sing 'Brose'
for us.
30
I wis only a halflin when
I left the glen,
To work as the orra loon doon at Kinglen,
Twas fairly a change for a laddie like me,
Tae get brose for ma brakfast, ma denner and tea.
Noo brose in the mornin is a very weel,
It dinna need cha'in, yer milk it could sweel,
By dennertime, losh, I wid raither hae bree,
Than the brose for ma brakfast, ma denner and tea.
At the ploo I made pictures o platefaes o neeps,
And guid I ?? langer, the brose they wid keeps,
But fan lowsin time come wi a tear in ma ee,
I gaed intae ma brose my denner and tea.
In the lang summer days, in the castin the peats,
I wis aff ??, I'd've etten ma beets,
I near ?? the carrots, I'll nae tell a lee,
It's a lang time on brose twen yer denner an tea.
Oh and that wis the wey that I fell in wi Jean,
She wis kitchie at Killblain and jist turned sixteen,
She took peety and wilies a clootie she wid dae,
It's a change wi the brose for ma denner and tea.
Oh they say that e wey tae the hairt o a man,
Is the ?? up and ??
Mebbe Jeanie thocht that for she said she'd agree,
Tae give brose for ma brakfast but nae for ma tea. [Applause.]
Noo fowk that have thriven on hodden and hose,
Fa says it's nae work as a boolfu o brose,
O I dinna misdoot it, but what aboot three,
Bowls o brose for yer breakfast, yer dinner and tea.
[Applause. Encore.]
31
For the shearin's no for
you my bonnie lassie-o,
Oh the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
Oh the shearin's no for you, for yer back it winna boo,
And ye're pailies rowin fu, ma bonnie lassie-o.
Tak the buckles fae yer sheen my bonnie lassie-o,
Tak the buckles fae yer sheen, my bonnie lassie-o,
Tak the buckles fae yer sheen, mak a kiltie tae yer loon,
Because yer dancin days are daen my bonny lassie-o.
Tak the ribbon fae yer hair, my bonnie lassie-o,
Tak the ribbon fae yer hair, my bonnie lassie-o,
Tak the ribbon fae yer hair, let oot yer ringlet fair,
For there's none that are't but fair, my bonnie lassie-o.
O the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
O the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
O the shearin's no for you, for yer back it winna boo,
And yer belly's growin fu, my bonnie lassie-o.
[Applause.]
[RS] Madelaine Miller and Alec Green.
[Whistle, accordion]
[Applause.]
33
[Guitar]
There once was a troop o Irish dragoons,
Come marching down through Fyvie-o,
Oor captain's fa'n love wi bonnie, bonnie lass,
They call her the bonnie lass o Fyvie-o.
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless,
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Gairioch-o,
There's mony a bonnie Jean in the toon o Aiberdeen,
But the floo'er o them a bides in Fyvie-o.
O come doon the stair, Peggy, my dear
Come doon the stair, pretty Peggy-o
O come down the stair, tie up yer yella hair
Tak a last fareweel to your daddy-o
The captain he said, mount, boys mount,
The captain said oh tarry-o,
And as we passed the door ??,
? the ?? of Fyvie-o.
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless,
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Gairioch-o,
There's mony a bonnie Jean in yon toon o Aiberdeen,
But the floo'er o them a' bides in Fyvie-o.
It's bra o it's bra, Captain's lady to be,
It's bra tae be a Captain's lady-o,
It's bra tae rant and roar and to follow at his word,
And do march when your captain, he is ready-o.
Lang were we wan' tae aul Oldmeldrum toon,
Oor Captain we hid tae carry-o,
And by the time we got hame tae auld Aiberdeen,
The Captain we hid tae bury-o.
Well green grow the birks o bonny Deveronside,
And low lie the lowlands o Fyvie-o,
Our Captain's name was Ned in the mornin he wis dead,
He died for the bonnie lass o Fyvie-o.
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless,
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Gairioch-o,
There's mony a bonnie Jean in yon toon o Aiberdeen,
But the floo'er o them a' bides in Fyvie-o.
[Applause.]
34-35
[?] ? Would just like
to repeat what I said. Thank all these wonderful artists who
have been here tonight, who have given terrific of their best.
And I would like please if we could just sing for old times
sake. Auld Lang Syne.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind,
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
For auld lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For the sake of auld lang syne.
So here's a hand, my trusty friend,
And here's a hand o thine,
We'll tak a right gude willie-waught,
For the sake of auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For the sake of auld lang syne.
[Three cheers. Applause.]
[Fiddle music to end]
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