He spied a pair o' jack-boots
Where nae boots should be.
What's this now, gudewife?
What's this I see?

How cam' thae boots here

Without the leave o' me?
Boots! quo she ;

Ay, boots, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be!
It's but a pair o' water-stoups
The cooper sent to me.
Water stoups! quo' he;
Ay, water-stoups, quo' she.
Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen;

But siller-spurs on water-stoups

Saw I never nane.

Our gudeman cam' hame at e'en,
And hame cam' he;

And there he saw a siller-sword
Where nae sword should be.
What's this now, gudewife?

What's this I see?

Oh, how cam' this sword here
Without the leave o' me?
A sword! quo' she;

Ay, a sword, quo he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
It's but a parridge-spurtle
My minnie sent to me.

A parridge-spurtle! quo' he;
Ay, a parridge-spurtle, quo' she.

Weel, far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen;

But siller-handed parridge-spurtles

Saw I never nane.

Our gudeman cam' hame at e'en,

And hame cam' he;

And there he spied a powder'd wig Where nae wig should be. What's this now, gudewife?

What's this I see?

How cam' this wig here

Without the leave o' me?
A wig! quo' she;

Ay, a wig, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be!
'Tis naething but a clocken-hen
My minnie sent to me.

A clocken-hen! quo' he;
Ay, a clocken-hen, quo' she.

Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen; But powder on a clocken-hen Saw I never nane.

Our gudeman cam' hame at e'en, And hame cam' he;

And there he saw a muckle coat

Where nae coat should be.

How cam' this coat here?

How can this be?

How cam' this coat here

Without the leave o' me?
A coat! quo' she;
Ay, a coat, quo' he.

Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !

It's but a pair o' blankets
My minnie sent to me.
Blankets! quo' he;
Ay, blankets, quo' she.

Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen; But buttons upon blankets

Saw I never nane.

Ben gaed our gudeman

And ben gaed he;

And there he spied a sturdy man
Where nae man should be.

How cam' this man here?

How can this be?

How cam' this man here
Without the leave o' me?
A man! quo' she;
Ay, a man, quo' he.
Puir blind body,

And blinder mat ye be !
It's but a new milkin' maid

My mither sent to me.
A maid! quo' he;

Ay, a maid, quo' she.

Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen;

But lang-bearded maidens

Saw I never nane.

This excellent old song has been claimed as English, but its whole character is evidently Scottish. Johnson, the editor of the "Musical Museum," recovered the air, which had been lost, from the singing of an old barber or hair-dresser in Edinburgh, and printed it for the first time in his collection.

THE BARRING O' THE DOOR.

From Herd's Collection.

IT fell about the Martinmas time,

And a gay time it was than,

When our gudewife got puddings to mak',
And she boiled them in the pan.

The wind sae cauld blew east and north,
It blew into the floor;

Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife,
"Gae out and bar the door."

"My hand is in my hussy'f skap,

Gudeman, as ye may see;

An' it shou'd nae be barred this hundred year,

It's no be barr'd for me."

They made a paction 'tween them twa,
They made it firm and sure,

That the first word whae'er should speak
Shou'd rise and bar the door.

Then by there came twa gentlemen
At twelve o'clock at night,

And they could neither see house nor hall,
Nor coal nor candle light.

Now whether is this a rich man's house,
Or whether is it a poor?

But never a word wad ane o' them speak,
For barring o' the door.

And first they ate the white puddings,
And then they ate the black;

Though muckle thought the gudewife to hersel',
Yet ne'er a word she spak'.

Then said the one unto the other,
"Here, man, tak' ye my knife;
ye tak' aff the auld man's beard,
And I'll kiss the gudewife."

Do

"But there's nae water in the house,
And what shall we do than?"
"What ails ye at the puddin' broo
That boils into the pan ?"

Oh, up then started our gudeman,
And an angry man was he:

"Will

ye
And scad me wi' puddin' bree?"

kiss my wife before my een,

Then up and started our gudewife,

Gied three skips on the floor :

"Gudeman, ye've spoken the foremost word,—

Get

up and bar the door."

This song was first printed by David Herd, who wrote it down from a traditionary version. It is generally sung with the following lines as a chorus:

OH, AN YE WERE DEID, GUDEMAN.

From Herd's Collection, 1776.

Он, an ye were deid, gudeman,

And a green turf on your heid, gudeman,
That I micht ware my widowheid
Upon a rantin' Highlandman.

There's sax eggs in the pan, gudeman,
There's sax eggs in the pan, gudeman;
There's ane to you and twa to me,
An' three to our John Highlandman.

There's beef into the pot, gudeman,
There's beef into the pot, gudeman;
The banes for you, and the broe for me,
And the beef for our John Highlandman.

There's sax horse in the sta', gudeman,
There's sax horse in the sta', gudeman;
There's ane to you, and twa to me,
And three to our John Highlandman.

There's sax kye in the byre, gudeman,
There's sax kye in the byre, gudeman;

There's ane o' them yours, but there's twa o' them mine,
And the lave is our John Highlandman's.

THE DUSTY MILLER.

From "Johnson's Museum," 1782.

HEY, the dusty miller,

And his dusty coat;
He will win a shilling

Ere he spend a groat.
Dusty was the coat,
Dusty was the colour;
Dusty was the kiss

That I gat frae the miller.