Ah, songs to last out th' snows. The high passes are blocked, you know. I've the opinion that the snow will continue into the night. So much for the mounties, eh, Frenchie?Singin' does my heart grand! Pour more rum about! I've a song from my home:
Booted and spurred and bridled rode he, A plume in his saddle and a sword at his knee. Back come his saddle, all bloody to see, Back come the steed but never come he.
A-ridin' in the Highlands, steep was the way, Ridin' in the Lowlands, hard by the Tay. Out come his mother, with feet all so fair, Out come his sweetheart, a'reivin' of her hair.
The meadow's all a'fallin' and the sheep is unshorn, The house is a-leakin' and the baby's unborn, But bonny James Campbell nowhere could be seen, For back come the saddle but never come he.
Wait! Did I see a red coat in the snow outside?
(He lifts a pistol and the saber, flinging the sheath ito a corner.)
Mikal