ANONYMOUS. Air-"There's cauld kail in Aberdeen." THERE'S cauld kail in Aberdeen, Johnny Smith has got a wife For I maun hae my cogie, sirs, Twa three todlin' weans they hae, She curses aye his cogie, Crying, "Wae betide the three-gir'd cog! Oh, wae betide the cogie! It does mair skaith than a' the ills She fand him ance at Willie Sharpe's; 66 Crying, Wae betide the three-gir'd cog! Oh, wae betide the cogie! It does mair skaith than a' the ills Yet here's to ilka honest soul This song was popular in Aberdeenshire in the middle of the eighteenth century. There are at least half-a-dozen Scottish songs parodies upon, or emendations of, this. One, by Alexander fourth Duke of Gordon, appears among the Miscellaneous Songs in this volume; and a second was printed in Herd's Collection. The wind's drifting hail and sna' O'er frozen hags like a foot-ba'; Nae starns keek through the azure slit, "Tis cauld and mirk as ony pit. The man i' the moon Is carousing aboon; D'ye see, d'ye see, d'ye see him yet? Tak' your glass to clear your een, It drives away care; Hae wi' ye, hae wi' ye, and hae wi' ye, lads, yet. Steek the doors, keep out the frost, And let us hae a blythsome bowt. Dinna cheat, but drink fair. Huzza, huzza, and huzza, lads, yet! This song is founded upon a very ancient ballad, of which some fragments only exist. UP IN THE MORNING EARLY. From the manuscript collection of Scottish songs by Peter Buchan. Up in the morning, up in the morning, Up in the morning early; Frae night till morn our squires they sat, Up in the morning early, &c. I hae got fou, Beldornie cried; Up in the morning early, &c. Be wyllie, my boys, be wise, my boys, Your pouches will leave aff clinking. We will gae hame, said Lord Aboyne; There they sat the lee-lang night, And gaed hame in the morning early. The "boon companions" named in this song were all Aberdeenshire gentlemen. The Lord Aboyne was afterwards Duke of Gordon, and author of one of the versions of the song of " Cauld kail in Aberdeen." THE ALE-WIFE AND HER BARREL. From the manuscript collection of the songs of the North of Scotland by My mind is vex'd and sair perplex'd, I'll tell you a' that grieves me; A drunken wife I hae at hame, They'll ruin me and deave me. She takes her barrel on her back, Her pint-stoup in her hand, For to set up a stand. The ale-wife, &c. |