3
And trysted gleid Maggy Macvicar;
And faith thought shame for to rue.
The carles fu' codgie at cocking,
Upon their White nags and their Brawn,
Wi' snuffing and laughing and joeking.
They soon cautert in to the town;
Twas there was the funning and sporting,
Ae! what o swarm o' braw folk.
Rowly Powly Wild beasts wheel o' Fortune,
Sweet stan's Master Punch and black Jock.
Now Willock and Tam gayan buosy,
By this time had met wae their joes,
Consented wi Gibby and Susy.
To dauner down by to the shows.
Twas here was the fiddling and drumming,
Sic a crowd they could scarcely get through,
Fiddles Trumpets and Organ a bumming,
O sirs what a hully Baloo.
Then hie to the tents at the paling,
Weel thacket wi' blankets and mats,
An' deals seated round like a tap-room,
Supported on stanes and on pats,
The whisky like water there selling,
An Porter as sma as their Yill,
And aye as you're pourin' there tellin
Troth dear it's just sixpence the gill.
