The Book of Scottish Song/Lauchie's Promotions

Lauchie's Promotions.

[Alex. Rodger.—Air "Johnny Cope."]

Nainsel she was porn 'mang ta Hielan' hills,
'Mang ta goats, an' ta sheeps, an' ta whiskee stills,
An' ta brochan, an' brogues, an' ta snuishin' mills,
Oich! she was ta ponnie land she was porn in:
For a' ta lads there will be shentlemans porn,
An' will wear skean-dhu an' ta praw snuishin'-horn,
An' ta fine tartan trews her praw houghs to adorn,
An' mak' her look fu' spruce in ta mornin'.

Noo, ta shentlemans will no like to wroughtin' at a',
But she'll sit py ta grieshach her haffets to claw;
An' pe birsle her shanks, till they're red as ta haw,
An' a' fu' o' measles ilka mornin'.
But her nainsel' at last to ta Lalans cam' doon,
An' will got her a place 'mang ta mhor Glaschow toon;
Whar she's noo prush-ta-poot, an' pe polish-ta-shoon,
An' pe shentleman's flunkie in ta mornin'.

But at last she will turn very full o' ta proud,
An' she'll hold up her heads, an' she'll spoke very loud,
An' she'll look wi' disdains 'pon ta low tirty crowd,
Tat will hing 'pout ta doors ilka mornin'.
Noo, her nainsel is go to have one merry ball,
Whar she'll dance Killum Callum, hoogh! ta best o' them all,
For ta ponniest dancer she'll pe in ta hall,
Aye, either 'mang ta evenin' or mornin'.

Ither lads will have lasses, hersel will have no,
It pe far too expense wi' ta lassie to go;
So, she'll shust dance hersel', her fine preedings to show,
Tat she learn 'mang ta place she was porn in.
Then ta lads will cry "Lauchie, where from did you'll cam',
Tat you'll not give ta lassie ta dance an' ta dram?"
But te're a' trouster mosachs, every one shust ta sam',
They wad spulzie all her sporran ere ta mornin'.

Noo, she's thochtin' she'll yet turn a praw waiter's pell,
When she wear ta fine pump an' pe dress very well;
An' py Sheorge! ere she'll stop, she'll pe maister hersel,
In spite o' a' their taunts an' their scornin'.
Syne wha like ta great Maister Fraser will pe,
When she'll hing up ta sign o' the "Golden Cross Key,"
An' will sit in her parlour her orders to gi'e
To her waiters an' her boots in ta mornin'?

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