From the back o beyont 70yrs. and more ago:-- Way down upon a Swanee river Whaur aa fell in Tryin tae catch wee Baggie Minnows Wey a condensed milk tin. O the lassies roared and laughed Et me faa"n in Way down upon a Swanee river Wey maa condensed milk tin. We always kept a trout in the well to eat any insects that fell in, when this trout needed to be replaced we would guddle for a replacement in the burn. A verse from the old bothy ballad, Carnwath Mill, {we did have a few bothy ballads in Southern Scotland} runs:-- Aa slipit maa haun doon the neck o her goon Jist tae gie her bit paps a kittle Man she writhed an riggled an pretended tae swoon Jist like a troot that ye"d newlie guddled. Ah days of youth how sweet are ye But ye ne"er return again.
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