MACFARLAN O THE SPROTTS

1. Afore that I'd be tyraneest as I this file hae been,
I'd raider rin fae here tae Birse wi' piz in baith my sheen,
I'd raider dee for want o' breath than pine for want o' love;
    An it's a' becus Macfarlan's mairret Susy.
Susy's cankert fader wi' mine could never gree,
An' aye fin I gaed ower that gait he'd hun' his dog at me;
I sent my freen Macfarlan tae try fat he could dee,
    Macfarlan o' the Sprotts o' Birnieboosie.

CHORUS: I dinna like Macfarlan noo, I'm safe aneuch to state,
His lugs wid cast a shaida ower a sax-fit gate;
He's saft as ony gorblin, bit he's sliddery as a skate,
    Macfarlan o' the Sprotts o' Birnieboosie.

2. Macfarlan spak' nae word for me, bit plenty for 'imsel;
He reest the lassie's barley scones, her kebbick an' her kail;
Her fader cried oot, "Sprotts, ye shid try yer luck yersel,"
    Tae Macfarlan o' the Sprotts o' Birnieboosie.
Macfarlan he's the grimmest chiel for twenty mile a' roon,
They buy his fottygraf tae fleg the rottans fae a toon;
He kyttlt up his spunk at this, an' speert gin she'd come doon
    An' be mistress o' the Sprotts o' Birnieboosie.

CHORUS: I dinna like Macfarlan, etc.

3. He said that he was able baith tae play at coup-the-ladle,
Wi' a laidder ower a tricle cask, an' ca' the churn forby;
Anidder o' his win'ers wis that sawdust mixt wi' cin'ers
    Wis their spice for feedin' hens at Birnieboosie.
An educatit ostrich fae the wilds o' Timbuctoo
He hid for scrattin' up his neeps, an' hidna them to pu';
I never heard the like o' that come oot o' ony mou'
    But Macfarlan's o' the Sprotts o' Birnieboosie.

CHORUS: I dinna like Macfarlan, it's awfu', bit it's true;
A pewyter speen wis tint in Jock Macfarlan's mou';
He couldna weel be grimmer, an' they feed him wi' the skimmer,
    Macfarlan o' the Sprotts o' Birnieboosie.

4. Oh, a dirl o' the teethie's nae particularly sweet,
Bit love's the only pine on earth that ever gart me greet;
It's like kyttly chillblains roon yer hert insted o' on yer feet,
    They war aggravatit by the sicht o' Susy.
Noo freens an' kin' philosphers, ye've heard fat me befell;
Never lippen tull a middleman, bit dee yer wark yersel,
Or I'll bet my winter sarket ye're a day ahin the market,
    Like fin I sent Jock Macfarlan doon tae Susy.

CHORUS: I dinna like Macfarlan noo, I'm fairly aff o' Jock,
I dinna like Macfarlan, nor Macfarlan's folk;
May his Susy be nae turtle, bit the tyangs aran the spurtle
    Bring oot ower the heed o' Jock o' Birnieboosie.

-- By George Bruce Thomson, New Deer, Aberdeenshire. In Kerr's "Cornkisters", with the music ("by Willie Kemp"), but here from its first published version, from the author's own MS., we're told, in Greig's "Folk-Song of the North-East", article # cxlv. I hope the northeastern dialect is understandable enough.