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01
[SS]
Come a' ye jolly plooman lads at work amon the grun;
Come listen tae ma story if ye wint tae hae some fun;
I'm nae sae young's a I used tae be, some say I've haen ma
fling,
And I feel like a five year aul fen I begin tae sing.
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay,
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark and singin a' the
day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.
At Ellon feein mairket noo listen fit I say,
A mannie speir't gin I could work a pair ten oor day,
Or if I could full muck wi a man, he fairly gart me gape,
Says I, auld man far I come fae, we full muck wi a graip!
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay,
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark and singin a' the
day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.
I wis bothied for a sax month at a place we
ca'd Balcairn,
Fan I gaed hame the bothy lads they took me for a bairn,
Wi horny hauns, they ate biled spuds, the bothy fleer they
happit,
Wi sharnie beets I tramped the spuds and said I like mine
chappit.
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay,
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark and singin a' the
day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.
Noo the nicht I mairried Mary-Ann I got most
affa fu,
The minister tried tae tie the knot there wis a how-d'ye-do;
He said, young man, fit is yer name and hiv ye got the ring?
Ye should hae seen the mannie's face fan I began tae sing.
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay,
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark and singin a' the
day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.
[applause]
02
He's gan tae his lady gan,
As he has done before-o,
Sayin, madam I maun keep a tryst,
On the dowie dens o Yarrow.
Oh bide at hame, my lord, she said,
Oh bide at hame, my marrow,
For my three brothers they will slay thee,
On the dowie dens o Yarrow.
Oh haud yer tongue, ma lady dear,
Whit's a' the strife and sorrow,
For I'll come back tae thee again,
Fae the dowie dens o Yarrow.
So she's kissed his cheeks, she's kissed his
hair,
As she has done before-o,
Gied him a bran doon by his side,
And he's awa tae Yarrow.
Noo he's gan up yon Tennies bank,
Awite he gaed wi sorrow,
For there he met nine armed men,
On the dowie dens o Yarrow.
Oh come ye here tae howk or hound,
Or drink the wine sae clear-o?
Or come ye here tae pairt your land,
On the dowie dens o Yarrow.
I come not here tae howk or hound,
Nor tae drink the wine sae clear-o,
Nor come I here tae pairt my land,
But I'll fight wi you on Yarrow.
Noo fower he's hurt and five he's slain,
On the bloody dens o Yarrow,
Till a cowardly man come him behind,
And pierced his body through-o.
Gae hame, gae hame, ma brither John,
With all the strife and sorrow,
Gae hame and tell your sister dear,
That I sleep sound in Yarrow.
So he's gan up yon high, high hill,
As he has done before-o,
And there he met wi his sister dear,
She wis comin fast tae Yarrow.
I dreamt a dreary dream this dream,
God keep us all fae sorrow;
I dreamt I pulled a birk sae green,
On the dowie dens o Yarrow.
Oh sister I can read your dream,
And I know it has come sorrow;
Your true love, he lies dead and gone,
He wis killed, he wis killed in Yarrow.
[applause]
03
Next one is Bothy by default.
Courtin in the Stable.
The nicht wis fine, twas aifter nine,
The meen wi cloods wis hidden-o,
Fan in the dark ower moss and park,
Come Jock at Katy's biddin-o.
At saiven Jock hid suppit his brose,
And changed his claes fu cheery-o,
Pulled ower his queets, his Sunday's beets,
And he's aff tae meet his dearie-o.
The road wis lang, but Jock aye sang,
O Katy is ma chairmer-o;
Next Whitsun-tide, she'll be ma bride,
And leave the hungry fairmer-o.
She's me tae thank, for in the bank,
A hunnerd poond I've lyin-o;
I'm nae sae daft, I've taen a craft,
Oor fortunes we'll be tryin-o.
But comin through auld Meldrum toon,
Aroon by the inn come Tammy-o;
Sae Tam and Jock at acht o' clock,
Sit doon tae hae a wee drammie-o.
Oh sic a time the plooman had,
Wi ale and fusky cheery-o;
They drank a lot and Jock forgot,
That he'd tae meet his dearie-o.
They sat and newsed and aye they boozed,
Till shakin time it chappit-o,
And in a haze, puir Jock he raise,
And very nearly drappit-o.
Syne aff he wummeled ower the rigs,
For weel he kent the stable-o,
Far oft he'd wait tae meet his Kate,
As seen as she wis able-o.
Jock feelin queer, the fairm drew near,
Sine in the close he landed-o;
Nae mean the glint, his wey he hae tint,
In a midden he got stranded-o.
But he crackit a spunk and he fun his wa,
Roon by the byre gable-o,
Wi sharny feets and dubby queets,
At last he reached the stable-o.
Jock steid and thocht, the whisky vrocht,
The drink could fairly maister-o;
A workin steer wis staundin near,
So roon the neck Jock clasped him-o.
Noo Katie ma dear, ye'll vow richt here,
That neen bit me ye'll marry-o;
Guid Losh, ma doo, ye've turned tae coo,
For yer affa roch and hairy-o.
Syne in come Katy wi a licht,
She lauched as she wis greetin-o;
She thocht her lad hid fair gone mad,
They ne'er hid sic a meetin-o.
The workin steer, he lookit gey queer,
But he niver gied a guller-o;
Nae doot he thocht he'd niver vrocht,
Wi sic an unco collar-o.
Kate glowered at Jock, Jock glowered at Kate,
The stott wis fair dumbfoonered-o;
Jock slackit his haud, and wi a thud,
He in the foresta foonered-o.
But soon the sport wis broken short,
By Katie's kind compassion-o;
She nivver thocht tae see a stott,
Dressed up in sic a fashion-o.
So she passed her airm aroon Jock's neck,
Tae the kitchie she did guide him-o;
She vowed that she strong tay wid gae,
And niver eence would chide him-o.
But noo their mairried baith man and wife,
And lang may they be able-o,
Tae lauch at fate and ne'er forget,
That courtin in the stable-o.
[applause]
04
[SG] The first song that
I'm going to sing is my traditional song and it's called 'Twa
Recruitin Sergeants'.
There were twa recruitin sergeants came fae
the Black Watch,
Tae markets and fairs some recruits for to catch,
And a' they enlisted was forty and twa,
List my bonny laddie, and come awa.
And it's over the mountain and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
A feather to yer bonnet, and a kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa' wi me.
Oot o the barn aye and intae the byre,
This auld fairmer thinks ye'll never tire,
It's a slavery job o low degree,
Enlist my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
And it's over the mountain and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
A feather to yer bonnet, and a kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
Laddie noo you dinna ken the danger that you're
in,
If your horse were to fleg or your owsen was to rin;
This greedy, auld farmer he widnae pay your fee,
So list bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
And it's over the mountain and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
A feather to yer bonnet, and a kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
Wi yer tattie pourins and yer ill-brewed ale,
Yer soor sowin sourins and yer milk and kale,
Yer buttermilk and whey and breid for yer dra,
List bonny laddie and come awa.
And it's over the mountain and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
A feather to yer bonnet, and a kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
Laddie noo, if ye hae a sweetheart and bairn,
You'll easy get rid of that ill-spun yarn,
Twa rattles o the drum and that'll pay for a',
List my bonny laddie come awa.
And it's over the mountain and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
A feather to yer bonnet, and a kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
[applause]
05
[SG] For my bothy ballad,
I'm going to sing one of my favourite bothy ballads, and I'm
not sooking up to Ian here! It's called 'The Traivellin Mill'.
A week afore the mull wis due, the mannie gaed
his roonds,
Tae organise a squaddie fae the neighbourin fairm toons,
At shavvin time and hairst time there wis aye a fair bit hash,
But the croonin culmination come the day wi hid a thrash.
The mull came hame the nicht afore it, twis mair nor affen
late,
We plowtered in the gloamin, gettin't level't aff and set,
But the mull lads powkin here and there got athing sorted
oot,
For a stairt the followin mornin fan the men came in aboot.
Fan eens we got her yokit, twas a satisfyin
soun,
On a quiet day the hummin o it, wis heard for miles aroon,
Especially fan an antrin shafe gaed doon wi ??? knot,
And she rifted oot a 'voomph', as it gaed rumblin ower her
throat.
The men fen gaithered in aboot made fourteen o a crew,
And we're puttin on tae handled grain tae fork or big a soo,
Ae mill lad did the feedin as the ??? gaed aroon,
Skitin ile on a' the furrilin bits tae keep her queelt doon.
The forkers work wis tirin, be it shaves or
be it strae,
Twisnae near as bad as humphin barley bags a' day,
Half quarter bags were a designed for little else but graft,
And they left ye shakky legged ere ye humphed them tae the
laft.
The laftie stairs aboot a toon hid aye a naisty knack,
They were a'kward tae negotiate wi onything on yer back,
They were narra files and neukit, but be far the biggest fla,
Wis the one in fower gradient that wis common tae them a'.
Fan we'd lowsed and got wir denner by, the men
fae ither toons,
For critical comparison set aff amon their roonds,
They hakit and rakit there, gaed this and that a powk,
For there's aye great fascination wi the gear o ither fowk.
Wi athin weel taen throwhand, we adjourned tae the barn,
Tae tak the weicht fae aff wir legs and swap the latest yarn,
But we hidnae lang tae lichter, for the mull resumed at een,
And the sprollached up and raxed wirsels tae stairt the aifterneen.
Twa wimmen at the lousin kept the feeder weel
supplied,
And a steady stour o grain wis bein baggit aff and weighed,
But the mannie in attendance, wi a speculative ee,
Wis girnin aboot quality as weel's the quantity.
Fan the rucks wir by the easin vermin stairted spewin oot,
But they jinkit oot o sicht again, wi bairns in het pursuit,
Little kennin that their hidie-holie widnae laist for lang,
For there's nae a lot o shelter fen ye stairt the hindmost
gyan.
When she'd feenished and got roaded, and the
men hid worn awa,
An eerie kinda silence seemed tae settle ower a',
The cornyard wis knakit and the foonds a strippit clean,
Jist a strae soo and a heap o caff to show she'd ivver been.
The traivellin mullie's lang defunct and fairly oot o grace,
Ye'll seldom see a gaitherin noo o fowk aboot a place,
For the modren mull's a combine, wi a steerin wheel and gears,
But there's files I think I hear her yet, a ghost o bygone
years.
[applause]
[Barbara-Ann Burnett]
06
I'm going to sing 'Drumdelgie'
There's a fairm toon up in Cairnie, it's kent
baith far and wide,
It's ca'd the hash o Drumdelgie on bonny Deveronside;
It's five o' clock that we get up and hurry doon the stair,
Tae get wir horses corned and fed, likewise tae stracht their
hair.
Half an hoor at the stable, each tae the kitchie
goes,
Tae get started tae oor brakfast, which generally's brose;
We've scarcely got wir brose weel supped and gien wir pints
a tie,
Fin the grieve he says, 'hallo my lads ye'll be nae langer
nigh'.
At sax o' clock the mull's put on tae gie us
a' stracht work,
And twal o us his tae work at it, till ye could ring oor sark;
At acht o' clock the mull's taen aff and we hurry doon the
stair,
Tae get some quarters through the fan till daylicht dis appear.
Noo the cloods begin tae gently lift, the sky
begins tae clear,
An the grieve he says, 'hallo my lads, ye'll be nae langer
here';
It's sax o ye'll gang tae the ploo and sax tae ca the neeps,
An the owsen'll they'll be efter ye fir they get on their
feet.
In pittin on the harness and drawin oot tae
yoke,
The drift dang on sae very thick that we wis like tae choke;
The drift gang on sae very thick, the ploo she widnae go,
Twas then that the cairtin did commence among the frost and
snow.
Drumdelgie keeps a Sunday skweel, he thinks
it is bit richt,
Tae teach the young and the innocent the way for tae dae richt;
So fare ye weel, Drumdelgie, I bid ye a adieu,
And I'll leave ye jist as I got ye, a maist unceevil crew.
[applause]
07
[PS]
A small bothy song from Fife first of all.
It's up in the morning afore it's day,
Tae gie oor horses their corn and their hay;
We'll groom the black horse, the roan and the grey,
And we'll a haud ower tae the ploo-o.
The plooman's life is a life o toil,
He works a' the day, through the sweat and the broil;
He whistles blithe and gay as he tills the soil,
And we'll a haud awa tae the ploo-o.
Here's tae the dreel ploo, the couter and the
??,
Here's tae the chains that hauls the whole yoke,
That winds baith the breed and the beer for Jock,
And we'll a haud awa tae the ploo-o.
The plooman's life is a life o toil,
He works a' the day, through the sweat and the broil;
He whistles blithe and gay as he tills the soil,
And we'll a haud awa tae the ploo-o.
[applause]
08
I'm going to try a, em, a
ballad I don't often sing, but it mentions Monymusk so it
must be a North East ballad but in fact it's, this is recorded
from a singer in Fife as well.
Johnny arose on a May, May morn,
He called for water tae wash his hands,
Sayin lowse to me, my twa grey dogs,
That lie bound in iron bands, bands,
That lie bound in iron bands.
(I'm going to start again, it's too low.)
Johnny arose on a May, May morn,
He called for water tae wash his hands,
Sayin lowse to me, my twa grey dogs,
That lie bound in iron bands, bands,
That lie bound in iron bands.
Johnny's mother was a standing by,
And a tear come tae her ee,
Saying, dinnae ye ging doon be the merry Monymusk,
Or yer heid will be set free, free,
Or yer heid will be set free.
But Johnny's awa doon be Monymusk,
And by thon whinny knowe,
And there he spied a young roe deer,
She was eating a bush o broom, broom,
She was eating a bush o broom.
He took an arrow fae his back,
And his bow fae off his side,
Saying, if my arrow does prove true,
I'll spoil that young deer's pride, pride,
I'll spoil that young deer's pride.
The very first arrow he fired at her,
He wounded her on the side,
And atween the water and the woods,
His twa dogs laid her pride, pride,
His twa dogs laid her pride.
They ate sae much o the venison,
And they drank sae much o her blood,
That Johnny and his twa grey dogs,
Lay a sleepin as they were dead, dead,
Lay a sleepin as they were dead.
By there come a silly auld man,
And an ill-death may he dee,
For he's awa and telt the King's foresters,
That Johnny O' Grady he did see, did see,
Johnny O' Grady he did see.
Up then spark the eldest forester,
He was the eldest among them a',
If that be Johnny O' Grady, he says,
Then we'd better leave him a be, be,
Then we'd better leave him a be.
Up though then sprak the youngest forester,
He was Johnny's sister's son,
If that be Johnny O' Grady, he says,
Then his heid will come with me, me,
Then his heid will come with me.
And as they gaed a doon through Monymusk,
And by thon mossy scroggs,
It was there they saw the poacher bold,
Laid asleep atween twa dogs, dogs,
Laid asleep atween twa dogs.
He took an arrow fae his back,
And his bow fae aff his side,
And the very first arrow he fired at him,
His hairt's blood blin'd his eye, his eye,
His hairt's blood blin'd his eye.
Is there a bird into this forest,
That would carry the tidings hame,
That would go and tell my mother dear,
Johnny O' Grady's deid and gane, gane,
Johnny O' Grady's deid and gane.
Up then spak the robin bird,
He was the smallest amongst them a',
Oh I'll go and tell your mother dear,
Johnny O' Grady's deid and awa, awa,
Johnny O' Grady's deid and awa.
For I'll tell her a story she'll believe that's
true,
I'll carry the tidings hame,
That the poacher bold fae Monymusk,
Is laid as cold as stone, stone,
Is laid as cold as stone.
[applause]
09
I would like to sing the
traditional one first.
In June when broom in bloom was seen,
And brackens waved fu fresh and green,
And warm the sun wi silver sheen,
The hills and glens did gladden-o.
Ae day upon the borders bent,
The tinker's pitched their gypsy tent,
And auld and young wi ae consent,
Resolved tae haud a weddin-o.
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, dirrum-a-doo a-daddy-o,
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, hurra for the tinker's weddin-o.
The bride groom wis wild Norman Scott,
Wha thrice hid broke the nuptial knot,
And eence wis sentenced tae be shot,
For breach o martial order-o.
His ??? Jo wis Madge McCall,
A Speywife match for Nick himsel,
Wi glamour, cantrip, charm as well,
She frichted baith the borders-o.
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, dirrum-a-doo a-daddy-o,
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, hurra for the tinker's weddin-o.
Nae priest wis there wi solemn face
Nae clack tae claim o crowns a brace
The piper and fiddler played the grace
Tae set their gabs a steerin o
Maun beef and mutton, pork and veal,
Maun ??? pluck and fresh cow heel,
Fat haggises and callar geel[?],
They cla'd awa ???
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, dirrum-a-doo a-daddy-o,
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, hurra for the tinker's weddin-o.
Fresh salmon newly taen fae Tweed,
Saut ling and cod o Shetland breed,
They worried till kites were light as screed,
Mon flagons and flasks o gravy-o.
There's yew milk ken, and sweet milk sacks
And yew milk kale wi ??
[forgets words]
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, dirrum-a-doo a-daddy-o,
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, hurra for the tinker's weddin-o.
The sun fell laich ower Solway's banks,
Well on they plied their rowsome pranks,
And they still were chadders ower their shanks,
Wide ower the muirs they're spreadin-o.
Till heids and thra's amon the whins,
They fell wi broken, bruisin shins,
And sair cast bains felt mony skins,
Tae close the tinker's weddin-o.
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, dirrum-a-doo a-daddy-o,
Dirrum-a-doo, a-doo a-day, hurra for the tinker's weddin-o.
[applause]
10
The gloamin winds are sighin
saft,
Aroond my lonely stable laft,
Amid the sky lights dusky red,
The sunbeams wander roond my bed.
The doctor left me in good cheer,
But something tells me death is near;
Ma time on earth has nae been lang,
My time has come and I maun gang.
Ah me tis but a week the morn,
Since I was weel and hairstin corn,
As fu o health and strength and fun,
As ony man among the throng.
But something in my breist gaed wrang,
A vessel burst and blood oot sprang,
And as the sun sets in the sky,
They'll lay me doon nae mair tae rise.
Fareweel my horse, my bonnie pair ,
It's you I'll yoke and lowse wi you nae mair;
Fareweel my ploo, wi you this hand,
Will turn over nae mair fresh land.
Fareweel my friends my comrades dear,
This voice ye shall nae langer hear;
Fareweel tae yonder settin sun,
My time has come and I maun gang.
I've served my maister weel and true,
My weel daen work he'll nivver rue,
And yet forbye, I micht hae striven,
Tae reach the pearly gates o hivven.
Tis weel my maker knows my name,
Will he gie me a welcome hame,
As I should help in need of ford,
Receive me in thy mercy Lord.
[applause]
Eric Simpson of Mosstodloch. Eric.
[applause]
11
[ES] The Bothy ballad song
is ca'd Brose.
I wis only a laddie fan I left ma hame,
And I fee'd tae be orra man doon at Killglen;
It wis a big change for a laddie like me,
Tae get brose tae ma brakfast, ma denner and tea.
Noo brose in the mornin its a very weel,
They dinnae need cha'in, the milk it could sweel ,
But at dennertime, Losh, I wid raither hae bree,
Than the brose tae ma brakfast, ma denner and tea.
At nicht I wis hungry fan I gaed ta ma bed,
And I dreamt aboot bannocks and butter instead,
But aye in the mornins I wakkened tae see,
The brose tae ma brakfast, ma denner and tea.
At the ploo I made pictures o platefaes o neeps,
And winnered foo lang on the brose they wid keeps,
But fan lowsin time wi a tear in my ee,
I gaed in tae the brose tae ma denner and tea.
In the lang summer day at the castin the peats,
I wis sometimes that famished I could hae etten ma beets;
I nibbled at carrots, I'll nae tell a lee,
It's a lang time on brose tween yer denner an tea.
Noo that wis the wey that I fell in wi Jean,
She wis kitchie at Killie's barely turned sixteen;
She took peety and sometimes, a cookie she'd gie's,
As a change wi the brose for ma denner and tea.
They say that the wey till the hairt o a man,
Is tae feed him up jist as best as ye can;
Mebbe Jeanie thocht that for she said she'd agree,
Tae gie's brose tae ma brakfast but nae tae ma tea.
Now there's fowk that have thriven and huddin
and hose,
And plenty'll sweer by at bow'fae o brose;
I dinna misdoot it, but whit aboot three,
Bowls o brose for yer breakfast, yer denner and tea.
[applause]
Been asked to announce for those who concerned
or those of you maybe interested. The local singer's competition
starts in 10 minutes in the ??? And so any of you who want
to join that one, you've got 10 minutes to get up there.
12
Our next competitor in this
competition though is Charles Christie fae Leith.
Keith.
Keith! Ah, so it is [laughs]. Don't hae sae
far tae come. I think that after twenty years they'd think
the committee would hae bought a new sheet o carbon paper!
[laughs].
[CC] Start wi the bothy. The Auld Meal Mill.
Oh the horse are in the stable and the kye are
in the byre,
And the hard day's work is over, the auld folk roon the fire,
I ging slippin through the heather tae that fairm ahin the
hill,
Jist tae see the bonny lassie by the auld meal mill.
Oh wi her een like bramble berries and her cheeks
like mountain
[forgets words, audience tries to help]
[God, this is terrible. A thing that I've sung
for donkey's years. I'll start it again onywey.]
Oh the horse are in the stable and the kye are
in the byre,
And the hard day's work is over, the auld folk roon the fire;
I ging slippin through the heather tae that fairm ahin the
hill,
Jist tae see the bonny lassie by the auld meal mill.
Wi her een like bramble berries, and her cheeks
like mountain haws,
And her lips are red like cherries, she's the bonniest flo'er
that blaws;
Oh I weary for the lowsin, how I lang tae the quit the drill,
And set oot tae meet ma lassie by the auld meal mill.
Oh she's nae the miller's daughter, oh she's
just a kitchie quine,
And I'm longing for the day that she will say she will be
mine;
[forgets words] Auch I'll gie ye the [indistinct].
13
That's terrible at! I'll
start Lonely in the Bothy - if I can min it! [laughs]. Getting
auld. Fit wey dis it start noo….
Oh as I gaed hame tae Airdae, well the fairmer'd
nae a clue,
There's nae wey he could back a cairt or nae wey he could
ploo,
So I got a the work tae dae, it suited me jist fine,
An I bade in that little timmer bothy.
Noo the caul wins they bla aneth my timmer bothy
door,
The moosies they jink in an oot the knotholes in the floor,
But that's nae the worst o bein here, those comforts I can
thole,
But it's lonely at nicht in the bothy.
Noo I've sorted mony fancy bulls and put them
doon tae Perth,
I ken that I'm the best showman that ever walked the earth,
But when a the judgins over an the trophies a' been won,
It's back tae ma little timmer bothy.
Noo the caul wins they bla aneth my timmer bothy
door,
The moosies they jink in an oot the knotholes in the floor,
But that's nae the worst o bein here, those comforts I can
thole,
But it's lonely at nicht in the bothy.
Noo I'm nae a married man, so I'm aye on the
loose,
Ye'll find me nearly every nicht in Walter's public hoose,
But ye canna blame a man for takin comfort far he can,
For it's lonely at nicht in the bothy.
Noo the caul wins they bla aneth my timmer bothy
door,
The moosies they jink in an oot the knotholes in the floor,
But that's nae the worst o bein here, those comforts I can
thole,
But it's lonely at nicht in the bothy,
Aye, it's lonely at nicht in the bothy.
[applause]
14
This is the Banks o the Roses
On the banks o the roses, my love and I sat
doon,
For I took out ma fiddle for tae play my love a tune,
In the middle o the tune, she sighed and then she said,
Oh my Johnny, lovely Johnny, dinna leave me.
When I was but a young girl, my mother used
to say,
She would rather see me dead, aye and buried beneath the clay,
Than see me marry to any runaway,
On the sweet bonny banks o the roses.
On the banks o the roses, my love and I sat
doon,
For I took my fiddle for tae play my love a tune,
In the middle o the tune, she sighed and then she said,
Oh my Johnny, lovely Johnny, dinna leave me.
For I'm no runaway, I'll have you all to know,
I can drink a pint of beer or leave it well alone,
If yer mither disnae like me, she can keep you at home,
And your Johnny will ging roamin wi anither.
On the banks o the roses, my love and I sat
doon,
For I took my fiddle for tae play my love a tune,
In the middle o the tune, she sighed and then she said,
Oh my Johnny, lovely Johnny, dinna leave me.
[applause]
George Barclay, now have I got your name down,
you are entering the open as well? Or just in the Junior?
[GB] Em. Dae open as well.
Well I have your name down for both. I don't
know. You want? Well. I don't know - you tell me.
[GB] I'll do traditional.
You'll do a traditional song and a bothy ballad.
[GB] Aye.
That's right.
[applause]
15-16
[GB] The Buchan Vet
Noo it's doon in a wee toon in Buchan,
I've practised for near forty year,
I'm the man that's aye soucht when yer horse or yer nowt,
Are lookin a wee bittie queer.
So if ye see a stirk in the neuk o a park,
Wi hair up and its lugs hingin doon,
At eens tell yer plooman tae jump on his bike,
And get the best vet in the toon.
So if yer aul horse or yer coo is in pain,
Yer duty I see its quite plain,
Jist ee send for me, and I'll guarantee
It'll ne'er need a fairrier again.
Noo ey nicht wi ma gig and ma sheltie,
I wis daunderin hame afore dark,
Oh I'd hid a guid dram, mebbe twa, mebbe three!
When I sa Mains gan throw his tattie park.
Oh I cried a 'Fine nicht!', but he nivver took heed,
So I swore and I ca'd him a feel,
But a fun oot naixt day, I'd been wastin ma win',
Twas a scarecraw stood up in that dreel
Noo if yer aul horse or yer coo is in pain,
Ae duty I can see its quite plain,
Jist you send for me, I'll guarantee,
It'll ne'er need a fairrier again.
Noo ey nicht as I passed the auld kirkyard,
I thocht that I heard a queer soon,
So I stoppit ma shelt and gaed in ower the dyke,
And I hid a guid look roon and roon.
Fae a new howkit grave come a voice that I kint,
Says aye tae masel, noo yer trappit,
Says the voice, oh I'm caul but I shield and the yird,
Ye'll be hetter says I eence ye're happit.
So if yer aul horse or yer coo is in pain,
Yer duty I can see its quite plain,
Jist you send for me, and I'll gaurantee,
It'll ne'er need a fairrier again
[applause]
17
Em, e traditional ballad is The trampin lass.
As I gaed oot ae summer's nicht, tae hae a wee
bit stroll,
Nae thinkin o the oors gan by at I wandered by the toll,
I wisnae ower lang by the toll, fan Corbie's burn I passed,
And fa de ye think at I met there, but a bonnie wee trampin
lass
Oh far are ye gan? Gie me yer haun, foo ye daein
says I?
Haud up yer heid my bonnie wee lass and dinna look sae shy.
Far dae ye bide? Far dae ye stay? Come tell tae me yer name.
Dae ye think yer faither'd be angry noo if I were tae see
ye hame?
She said that she wis workin doon in the maltin
fields,
Trampin banks o ??? and likin it unco weel,
She said she hid ten bob a wik, and wisnae on full time,
Says oh my lass fit maitters is that soon ye will be mine.
Oh far are ye gan? Gie me yer haun, foo ye daein
says I?
Haud up yer heid my bonnie wee lass and dinna look sae shy.
Far dae ye bide? Far dae ye stay? Come tell tae me yer name.
Dae ye think yer faither'd be angry noo if I were tae see
ye hame?
Noo that we are mairried, we're as happy as
can be,
Twa little lassies by oor side and a laddie on wir knee,
I aften stroll doon by the toll fan I think o the days gan
past,
But as lang's I live, I'll ne'er forget ma bonnie wee trampin
lass.
Oh far are ye gan? Gie me yer haun, foo ye daein
says I?
Haud up yer heid my bonnie wee lass and dinna look sae shy.
Far dae ye bide? Far dae ye stay? Come tell tae me yer name.
Dae ye think yer faither'd be angry noo if I were tae see
ye hame?
[applause]
18
This is Hamish Lipp from
Banchory-Devenick. Hamish [applause].
It's sax month come Mairtinmas I fee'd in Turra
toon,
They say that I wis the bra'est chiel in a the country roon.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Wullie come and fee'd me, Robbie nivver spoke,
Tae come and try the second pair at the Hash o Benagoak.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Wir foreman's like a constable, he nivver fa's
asleep,
It's up and doon the lang rig, and nivver slacks a theet.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
The second horseman, at's masel, I ca' a pair
o broons,
Raisin ?? in the foreman's heels, I fairly keep ma roons.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
The third comes fae Fogieloan, he's a pinted
chiel,
His horse and his harness they're aye a lookin weel.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Sharnie is wir baillie, he's a sturdy chiel,
It's roon aboot the kittlie neuks he gars the barra reel.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Wi hae an orra man, and he's heard of ?? the
ploo,
There's aye plenty orra jobs, and aye there's neeps tae pu.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Wullie rises in the mornin, he gies the door
a crash,
Hauls from oot aneth his ??, say I think we'll hae a thrash.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Come a' ye jolly horseman, ye'll ging tae the
ploo,
The orra lad tae ca the neeps and Sharnie pullin fu.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Wullie, he's a brither, he's a' wrang amon the
feet,
Tae see him walk aboot the close, he nearly gars ye greet.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Sin they hiv a sister, she's perjinct[?] and
met,
But faith she keeps the kitchie billies unco scant o met.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Oh we hae a sonsie kitchie daem, her name is
Betty Broon,
I sweir tae tak a saiddle girth her middle tae gang roon.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
Noo the author o this canty lie, if ye wint
it tae be known,
Jist spier ye at the herrin boats at the pier o Fogieloan.
Wi a ring dum day, ring dum a-day, ring dum,
diddle dum, a dandy-o.
[applause]
19
I've traivelled this country
baith early and late,
Amon the young lassies, I've hid mony a long seat,
Crawlin hame in the mornin when I should be at ease,
Fan I wis a plooboy in Airlin's fine braes.
The first thing I did fan I gaed tae yon toon,
Wis tae corn the horses and rub them weel doon,
Sin awa tae the bothy and shift affa ma claes,
And get oot a-rovin in Airlin's fine braes.
It's mony a nicht I hae gaen tae yon toon,
It's mony a nicht I hae watched the loon,
Sit darnin his stockins and mendin his claes,
Fan I wis a plooboy on Airlin's fine braes.
Amon the bonny lassies I sat by the fire,
Sometimes the barn, and sometimes the byre,
Chatting a' the nicht wi them, fan I should be at ease,
Fan I was a-rovin on Airlin's fine braes.
I crept up tae their window and sae gently I
kneel,
The girlies fan they see me, they spring tae their heels,
They spring tae their heel, and they pit on their claes,
Sayin, here's the wild rover fae Airlin's fine braes.
A' the day long as I gae in the yoke,
My mind is containin some rovin exploit,
Expectin good prospects fan I should be at ease,
Fan I wis a plooboy on Airlin's fine braes.
At met time the mistress, she yokes upon me,
Says, laddie ye'd be better gan ye let them a be,
Ye'll mind on my words when ye come tae auld age,
Ye'll nae aye be a plooboy on Airlin's fine braes.
It's mony a fair maid I've left ower tae sigh,
Sayin far is the laddie that he nivver comes nigh,
I'll awa tae ma bed and lie doon at my ease,
Since yon hard hairted plooboy's left Airlin's fine braes.
So come a ye rovin plooboys, tik a warnin fae
me,
Nivver follow young wimmin fariver ye may be,
For they will entice ye fan they pit on fine claes,
And set ye a rovin in Airlin's fine braes.
[applause]
Richard MacDonald of Elgin. We'll slip him in
later then. So next on the list is one, I'm sorry I don't
have your first name. A. Russell? From Elgin. Andy.
[AR] Andy Russell.
Andy. Andy.
20
[AR] My bothy ballad's gan tae be The Soor Milk Cairt. Oh
gee whiz.
Fan I wis jist a laddie [practises]. Gee whiz
[hums].
Well I am a country chappie, I'm a fairmin at
the ??,
A fairm that's near tae Eagleston, a fine auld fashioned toon,
For me and my cairt each mornin, a little aifter three,
We tak the road richt merrily, the auld black horse and me.
Wi her cheeks sae red and rosy, aye and her
eyes so bonny blue,
Dancin, romancin, she fills me through and through,
She fairly took ma fancy, aye and stole awa ma hairt,
Driving intae Glesgae in ma soor milk cairt.
Noo I set her up beside me, aye and I soon got
on the crack,
I slipped ma hands aroon her waist, forbye my side she sat,
I tellt her a' ma story while the woods aroon me rang,
Tae the singin o the ?? aye and the blackbird's cheery sang.
Wi her cheeks sae red and rosy, aye and her
eyes so bonny blue,
Dancin, romancin, she fills me through and through,
She fairly took ma fancy, aye and stole awa ma hairt,
Driving intae Glesgae in ma soor milk cairt.
Noo I hid a lots o lassies makin love in shady
bowers,
And how they loved and won their men amon the bonny flowers,
But I'll never forget the mornin fan your ???,
Made me pop the question in ma soor milk cart
Wi her cheeks sae red and rosy, aye and her
eyes so bonny blue,
Dancin, romancin, she fills me through and through,
She fairly took ma fancy, aye and stole awa ma hairt,
Driving intae Glesgae in ma soor milk cairt.
Noo the lassie nivver hid a hurl in a cairriage
a' her days,
And fan I proposed tae hae, across ma pair o greys,
Na, na ?? to see he siller's scarce, ye ken we canna pairt,
Aroon ??? in yer soor milk cairt.
Wi her cheeks sae red and rosy, aye and her
eyes so bonny blue,
Dancin, romancin, she fills me through and through,
She fairly took ma fancy, aye and stole awa ma hairt,
Driving intae Glesgae in ma soor milk cairt.
[applause]
21
[AR] Going to sing Bonny
Border Burn for ma ballad.
When I wis jist a laddie, in yon lang simmer's
day,
How aften I would wander through yon heather braes,
And when my hairt grew weary, a then my steps return,
Tae a place that I loo dearly by yon bonny border burn.
Twas there I met my lassie on yon fine April
morn,
A smile sae shy and glancing and her hair like ripening corn,
How fondly I remember and oft my thoughts return,
Where first I met my lassie by yon bonny border burn.
We wandered by the waters, the hoors flew quickly
by,
We heard the laverock singing and the curlews haunting cry,
As the mist crept ower the hillside, we vowed that we'd return,
And hand in hand we'd wander by yon border burn.
Though many years have gae noo, and we're baith
auld and grey,
We travelled far thegither, since yon fine summer's day,
When first I met my lassie and our hairts forever yearn,
In memory let me wander by yon bonny border burn,
In memory let me wander by yon bonny border burn.
[applause]
It's a while since we hid a lady up singing,
so I thought we might have a bothy ballad now from Lorna Alexander
please. Lorna's from Alford [applause].
22
The gloamin winds are bla'in
saft,
Around my lonely stable laft,
Amid the sky lights dusky red,
The sunbeams wander round my head.
Ah me tis but a week the morn,
Since I was weel and hairstin corn,
As full o health and strength and fun,
As ony man amang the throng.
But something in my breist gaed wrang,
A vessel burst and blood it sprang,
And as the sun sinks in the skies,
I'll lay me doon nae mair tae rise.
Fareweel my horse, my bonnie pair ,
I'll yoke and lowse wi you nae mair,
Fareweel my plough, wi you this hand,
I'll turn ower nae mair fresh land.
Fareweel my freends my comrades dear,
My voice ye shall nae langer hear,
Fareweel tae yonder settin sun,
My time has come and I must gang.
I've served my maister weel and true,
My weel deen work I'll nivver rue,
And yet forbye, I should hae striven,
To see the pearly gates o heaven.
Tis weel my maker kens my name,
And will he gie me welcome hame,
As I should help in need of ford,
Receive me in thy mercy Lord.
The gloamin winds are bla'in saft,
Around my lonely stable laft,
My time on earth has no been lang,
My time has come and I must gang.
[applause] back to top |
