Air—“The Cameronian Rant.”
“AH, feechanie ! they're no for me !
Guidwife, your herrin's stinkin;
O sic a smell ! just fin yoursel,
I weel coud ken them winkin.”
“The deevil dance your lady gab !
Gae doun the close, ye dirty drab !
They're caller fish, as ane can wish ;
She needna miss a dainty dish,
But, barmy jade ! she's winkin !”
“How daur you trow that I am fou,
Ye flounder-gabbit gipsy !
Set doun your creel, I'll gar you feel
I'm neither fou nor tipsy.”
“Gude trouth ! if I my creel set doun,
I'll wad my life tae hauf-a-croun
I'll gar ye yelp, like ony whelp,
An cry for help, wi skelp on skelp,—
I'll gie her hipsey-dixey!”
Tae fyle my han's wi sic as ye,—
Gude feth! I'll ne'er bemean me.”
“Weel, honest fouks, a this ye hear ?
It's mair than flesh an blude can bear.
I'll tell you what, ye birsie cat !
Tak that, an that, for a your chat ;
Now, tell what I hae gien ye !”
This humorous song was contained in a letter from Tannahill to James Barr, dated 3rd December, 1808. “Blythe Jamie” gave it to his friend, David Anderson, damask weaver, Glasgow, after 1821,—having previously made a copy of the letter and song. A mouse had eaten part of the copy at one of the folds ; and on opening it up, it was found the vermin had regaled on the first, second, and third lines of the last stanza ; but being rather fastidious, like the customer about the freshness of the “Caller Herrin,” had left the remainder as printed above. Several letters which had been left of the third line enabled us to complete the whole of the line.—Ed.
[Semple 168]