Now Willock and Tain gayan bouzie,
By this time had met wi' their joes,
Consented wi' Gibbie and Susy
To gang awa' down to the shows;
'Twas there was the fiddling and drumming,
Sic a crowd they could scarcely get through,
Fiddles, trumpets, and organs a bumming;
O, Sirs, what a hully-baloo.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Then hie to the tents at the paling,
Weel theeked wi' blankets and mats,
And deals seated round like a tap-room,
Supported on stanes and on pats;
The whisky like water they're selling,—
And porter as sma' as their yill,—
And aye as you're pouring they're telling,
"Troth dear, it's just sixpence the gill!"
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Says Meg—"See yon beast wi' the claes on't,
Wi' the face o't as black as the soot,
Preserve's! it has fingers and taes on't—
Eh, lass, it's an unco like brute!"
"O, woman, but ye are a gomeral,
To mak' sic a won'er at that,
D'ye na ken, you daft gowk, that' a mongrel,
That's bred 'twixt a dog and a cat."
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
"See yon souple jaud how she's dancing,
Wi' the white ruffled breeks and red shoon,
Frae tap to the tae she's a' glancing,
Wi' gowd and a feather aboon.—
My troth, she's a braw decent kimmer,
As I have yet seen in the fair."
"Her decent!" quo' Meg, "she's a limmer,
Or, faith, she would never be there."
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Now Gibbie was wanting a toothfu',
Says he, "I'm right tired o' the fun,
D'ye think we'd be the waur o' a mouthfu'
O gude nappy yill and a bun?"
"Wi' a' my heart," Tam says, "I'm willing,—
'Tis best for to water the corn;
By jing, I've a bonnie white shilling,
And a saxpence that ne'er saw the morn."
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Before they got out o' the bustle,
Poor Tam got his fairing I trow,
For a stick at the ginge'bread play'd whistle,
And knocked him down like a cow:
Says Tam, "Wha did that, deil confound him—
Fair play, let me win at the loon,"
And he whirled his stick round and round him,
And swore like a very dragoon.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Then next for a house they gaed glow'ring,
Whare they might get wetting their mou'.
Says Meg, "Here's a house keeps a pouring,
Wi' the sign o' the muckle black cow."
"A cow!" quo' Jenny, "ye gawky!
Preserve us! but ye've little skill,
Did ye e'er see a hawky like that—
Look again and ye'll see it's a bill."
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
But just as they darkened the entry.
Says Willie, "We're now far eneugh,
I see it's a house for the gentry,—
Let's gang to the sign o' the pleugh."
"Na faith," then says Gibbie, "we'se raither
Gae dauner to auld Luckie Gunn's,
For there I'm to meet wi' my faither.
And auld uncle John o' the Whins."
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Now they a' in Luckie's had landed,
Twa rounds at the bicker to try,
The whisky and yill round was handed,
And baps in great bourocks did lie.
Blind Aleck the fiddler was trysted,
And he was to handle the bow;
On a big barrel head he was hoisted,
To keep himsel' out o' the row.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Had ye seen sic a din and guffawing,
Sic hooching and dancing was there,
Sic rugging, and riving, and drawing,
Was ne'er seen before in a fair.
For Tam, he wi' Maggy was wheeling,
And he gied sic a terrible loup,
That his head came a thump on the ceiling,
And he cam' down wi' a dump on his doup.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Now they ate and they drank till their bellies
Were bent like the head o' a drum,
Syne they raise, and they capered like fillies,
Whene'er that the fiddle play'd bum.
Wi' dancing they now were grown weary,
And scarcely were able to stan',
So they took to the road a' fu' cheery,
As day was beginning to dawn.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
