ANONYMOUS. Air-"There's cauld kail in Aberdeen."

THERE'S cauld kail in Aberdeen,
And custocks in Stra'bogie,
And ilka lad maun hae his lass,
But I maun hae my cogie.
For I maun hae my cogie, sirs,
I canna want my cogie;
I wadna gi'e my three-gir'd cog
For a' the wives in Bogie.

Johnny Smith has got a wife
Wha scrimps him o' his cogie;
But were she mine, upon my life
I'd dook her in a bogie;

For I maun hae my cogie, sirs,
I canna want my cogie;
I wadna gi'e my three-gir'd cog
For a' the wives in Bogie.

Twa three todlin' weans they hae,
The pride o' a' Stra'bogie;
Whene'er the totums cry for meat,

She curses aye his cogie,

Crying, "Wae betide the three-gir'd cog!

Oh, wae betide the cogie!

It does mair skaith than a' the ills
That happen in Stra'bogie."

She fand him ance at Willie Sharpe's;
And, what the maist did laugh at,
She brak the bicker, spilt the drink,
And tightly gouff'd his haffet,

66

Crying, Wae betide the three-gir'd cog!

Oh, wae betide the cogie!

It does mair skaith than a' the ills
That happen in Stra'bogie.

Yet here's to ilka honest soul
Wha'll drink wi' me a cogie;
And for ilk silly whinging fool,
We'll dook him in the Bogie.
For I maun hae my cogie, sirs,
I canna want my cogie;
I wadna gie my three-gir'd cog
For a' the wives in Bogie.

This song was popular in Aberdeenshire in the middle of the eighteenth century. There are at least half-a-dozen Scottish songs parodies upon, or emendations of, this. One, by Alexander fourth Duke of Gordon, appears among the Miscellaneous Songs in this volume; and a second was printed in Herd's Collection.

The wind's drifting hail and sna'

O'er frozen hags like a foot-ba';

Nae starns keek through the azure slit,

"Tis cauld and mirk as ony pit.

The man i' the moon

Is carousing aboon;

D'ye see, d'ye see, d'ye see him yet?
The man, &c.

Tak' your glass to clear your een,
"Tis the elixir heals the spleen;
Baith wit and mirth it will inspire,
And gently puffs the lover's fire.
Up in the air,

It drives away care;

Hae wi' ye, hae wi' ye, and hae wi' ye, lads, yet.
Up in, &c.

Steek the doors, keep out the frost,
Come, Willy, gi'e's about ye'r toast;
Till't lads, and lilt it out,

And let us hae a blythsome bowt.
Up wi't there, there;

Dinna cheat, but drink fair.

Huzza, huzza, and huzza, lads, yet!
Up wi't, &c.

This song is founded upon a very ancient ballad, of which some fragments only exist.

UP IN THE MORNING EARLY.

From the manuscript collection of Scottish songs by Peter Buchan.

Up in the morning, up in the morning,

Up in the morning early;

Frae night till morn our squires they sat,
An' drank the juice o' the barley.
Some they spent but ae hauf-crown,
And some six crowns sae rarely;
In the alewife's pouch the siller did clink,
She got in the morning early.

Up in the morning early, &c.

I hae got fou, Beldornie cried;
Wardess replied, I am fou tee ;
Then said Darlicha, Beware o' a fa,
An' haud by the wa' as I dee.

Up in the morning early, &c.

Be wyllie, my boys, be wise, my boys,
Lat sorrow gae through your thinking;
Gin ye haud on as ye hae begun,

Your pouches will leave aff clinking.
Up in the morning early, &c.

We will gae hame, said Lord Aboyne;
Na, sit awhile, quo' Towie;
Oh, never a foot, said Lochnievar,
As lang's there's beer in the bowie.
Up in the morning early, &c.

There they sat the lee-lang night,
Nor stirr❜d till the sun shone clearly;
Then made an end as they began,

And gaed hame in the morning early.
Up in the morning early, &c.

The "boon companions" named in this song were all Aberdeenshire gentlemen. The Lord Aboyne was afterwards Duke of Gordon, and author of one of the versions of the song of " Cauld kail in Aberdeen."

THE ALE-WIFE AND HER BARREL.

From the manuscript collection of the songs of the North of Scotland by
Peter Buchan.

My mind is vex'd and sair perplex'd,

I'll tell you a' that grieves me;

A drunken wife I hae at hame,
Her noisome din aye deaves me.
The ale-wife, the drunken wife,
The ale-wife she grieves me;
My wifie and her barrelie,

They'll ruin me and deave me.

She takes her barrel on her back,

Her pint-stoup in her hand,
And she is to the market gane

For to set up a stand.

The ale-wife, &c.