Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
 |
 |
|
|
|
THE PEDLAR. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
82
THE PEDLAR.
The pedlar ca'd in by the house o' Glenneuk,
When the fam'ly were by wi' the breakfast and beuk;
The lasses were caiming an' curling their hair,
To gang to the bridal o' Maggie M'Nair.
“Guid morn,” quo' the pedlar, fu' frank an' fu' free,
“Let's see wha this day will be hansel to me!
An' if an ill bargain she happen to mak',
I'll gie her mysel' an' the hale o' my pack.”
When the fam'ly were by wi' the breakfast and beuk;
The lasses were caiming an' curling their hair,
To gang to the bridal o' Maggie M'Nair.
“Guid morn,” quo' the pedlar, fu' frank an' fu' free,
“Let's see wha this day will be hansel to me!
An' if an ill bargain she happen to mak',
I'll gie her mysel' an' the hale o' my pack.”
“Aha!” the guidwife cried, “gif I've ony skill,
I fear that would be makin' waur out o' ill;
My dochters wad, certes, o' wark be richt slack,
To trudge through the kintra and carry a pack.”
“Guidwife,” quo' the pedlar, “'tis only a joke,”
As he flang down his wallets to shaw them his stock;
When she saw his rich cargo, she ru'ed e'er she spak
Sae lightly o' either the pedlar or pack.
I fear that would be makin' waur out o' ill;
My dochters wad, certes, o' wark be richt slack,
To trudge through the kintra and carry a pack.”
“Guidwife,” quo' the pedlar, “'tis only a joke,”
As he flang down his wallets to shaw them his stock;
When she saw his rich cargo, she ru'ed e'er she spak
Sae lightly o' either the pedlar or pack.
The lasses drew roun', wi' their gleg glancin' een,
To glow'r on his ware that might fitted a queen;
They wal'd an' they boucht satins, ribbons, and lace,
Till they raised mony lirks on the laird's niggard face.
His brooches and bracelets, wi' di'monds enrich'd,
They greent for, till baith hearts and een were bewitch'd;
But bonnie blate Nelly stood aye a bit back,
Stealin' looks at the pedlar—but ne'er min't the pack.
To glow'r on his ware that might fitted a queen;
They wal'd an' they boucht satins, ribbons, and lace,
Till they raised mony lirks on the laird's niggard face.
His brooches and bracelets, wi' di'monds enrich'd,
They greent for, till baith hearts and een were bewitch'd;
But bonnie blate Nelly stood aye a bit back,
Stealin' looks at the pedlar—but ne'er min't the pack.
This lovely young lassie his fancy did move;
He saw that her blinks were the glances o' love:
A necklace he gied her, wi' pearlins beset,
Saying, “Wha kens but we twa will married be yet?”
The blush flush'd her cheek, and the tear fill'd her e'e;
She gaed out to the yaird, and sat down 'neath a tree,
When something within her aye silently spak—
“I could gang wi' this pedlar, and carry his pack.”
He saw that her blinks were the glances o' love:
A necklace he gied her, wi' pearlins beset,
Saying, “Wha kens but we twa will married be yet?”
The blush flush'd her cheek, and the tear fill'd her e'e;
She gaed out to the yaird, and sat down 'neath a tree,
When something within her aye silently spak—
“I could gang wi' this pedlar, and carry his pack.”
Her heart lap wi' joy ilka time he cam' roun',
Till he tauld her he'd taen a braw shop in the toun;
Then the rose left her cheeks, and her head licht did reel,
For she dreaded this wad be his hindmost fareweel.
“Look blithe, my dear lassie, your fears banish a',
Your parents may flyte, and your titties may jaw,
But they'll heartily rue yet, that e'er they jokes brack
Upon me, when the country I ranged wi' the pack.”
Till he tauld her he'd taen a braw shop in the toun;
Then the rose left her cheeks, and her head licht did reel,
For she dreaded this wad be his hindmost fareweel.
83
Your parents may flyte, and your titties may jaw,
But they'll heartily rue yet, that e'er they jokes brack
Upon me, when the country I ranged wi' the pack.”
The auld wife kent noucht o' the secret ava,
Till ae day to the kirk she gaed vogie an' braw;
Her heart to her mouth lap, the sweat on her brak',
When she heard Nelly cry'd to the lad wi' the pack.
She sat wi' a face hafflins roasted wi' shame,
Syne awa at twal hours she gaed scourin' straught hame;
She min't na the text, nor a word the priest spak',
A' her thoughts were ta'en up wi' the pedlar and pack.
Till ae day to the kirk she gaed vogie an' braw;
Her heart to her mouth lap, the sweat on her brak',
When she heard Nelly cry'd to the lad wi' the pack.
She sat wi' a face hafflins roasted wi' shame,
Syne awa at twal hours she gaed scourin' straught hame;
She min't na the text, nor a word the priest spak',
A' her thoughts were ta'en up wi' the pedlar and pack.
“What's wrang,” quo' the laird, “that ye're hame here sae soon?
The kail's no lang on! Is the day's service done?”
“Na, na,” quo' the kimmer, “I've got an affront
That for months yet to come will my bosom gar dunt!
That glaikit slut Nell, we have dautit sae weel,
Has now won us a pirn that will sair us to reel;
For a' we've wared on her, o' pound and o' plack,
She is thrice cry'd this day to yon chiel wi' the pack.”
The kail's no lang on! Is the day's service done?”
“Na, na,” quo' the kimmer, “I've got an affront
That for months yet to come will my bosom gar dunt!
That glaikit slut Nell, we have dautit sae weel,
Has now won us a pirn that will sair us to reel;
For a' we've wared on her, o' pound and o' plack,
She is thrice cry'd this day to yon chiel wi' the pack.”
“Od saffs!” sigh'd the laird, “gif she be sic a fool,
He sal get her as bare as the birk tree at Yule!
Whare is she, the slut? gif I could but her fin',
Fient haud me, gin I wadna reesil her skin!”
But Nelly foresaw what the upshot wad be,
Sae she gaed 'cross the Muir to a frien's house awee,
Whare a chaise-an-pair cam', an' whene'er daylight brak',
She set aff wi' the pedlar unfasht wi' the pack.
He sal get her as bare as the birk tree at Yule!
Whare is she, the slut? gif I could but her fin',
Fient haud me, gin I wadna reesil her skin!”
But Nelly foresaw what the upshot wad be,
Sae she gaed 'cross the Muir to a frien's house awee,
Whare a chaise-an-pair cam', an' whene'er daylight brak',
She set aff wi' the pedlar unfasht wi' the pack.
They were lawfully spliced by the Rev'rend J. P.
Whilk the hale kintra roun' in the Herald may see;
Now his big shop's weel stow'd, baith for bed an' for back,
That was started wi' ballads an' trumps in a pack.
He raise up in rank, and he raise up in fame,
And the title o' Bailie's affixed to his name;
Now the laird o' Glenneuk about naething will crack
Save the Bailie,—but ne'er hints a word o' the pack.
Whilk the hale kintra roun' in the Herald may see;
Now his big shop's weel stow'd, baith for bed an' for back,
That was started wi' ballads an' trumps in a pack.
He raise up in rank, and he raise up in fame,
And the title o' Bailie's affixed to his name;
Now the laird o' Glenneuk about naething will crack
Save the Bailie,—but ne'er hints a word o' the pack.
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |