As I gae'd up by Hawick Loan A'e Monanday at morn, 'Twas there I heard an auld grey mare Gie mony a heavy groan; Gie mony a heavy groan, sirs, And this she said to mie, "I'm Pawkie Paiterson's auld grey yaud, See how they're guidin' mie.
"The miller o' Hawick Mill bred mie. And that you a' do ken; Hie brocht mie up and fed mie On mony a sort o' grain. But now the case is altered. As ye may plainly see; I'm Pawkie Paiterson's auld grey yaud, See how they're guidin' mie,
"When a' the rest's sent to the corn, I'm sent out to the fog; When a' the rest's sent to the hay I'm sent out to the bog. When I gang into Hawick Moss Its like to swallow mie; I'm Pawkie Paiterson's auld grey yaud, See how they're guidin' mie.
"And as for Nellie Harkness She rises aye sae sune; And 'Lo'dsake! Jock, get up,' she cries, 'The yaud's amang the corn.' And hie has ta'en the pleugh-staff, And cam' and swabbled mie; I'm Pawkie Paiterson's auld grey yaud, See how they're guidin' mie.
"There's Rob Young o' the Back Raw, He's aften shod my clutes; And I'll leave him my shank-steels To be a pair o' boots. If he push his legs weel in them, They'll come up till his knee; I'm Pawkie Paiterson's auld grey yaud, See how they're guidin' mie.
"And as for Peggie Duncan, She is a bonnie lass, And I'll lease her my e'e-holes To mak' a keekin'-glass; They'll gar her een see straichter, For they aften squint aglee; I'm Pawkie Paiterson's auld grey yaud, See how they're guidin' mie.
"For the minister o' Wilton, His coat is worn sae thin, That for to keep him frae the cauld I'll leave him my auld skin: Wi' hide and hair to keep him warm As lang as it's done mie; I'm Pawkie Paiterson's auld grey yaud, See how they're guidin' mie.
"And as for Dyker Stewart, He's aye sae scarce o' stanes, That for to mend his auld fael dykes, I'll leave him my auld banes. And a' the callants o' Hawick loan May mak' bonfires o' mie; I'm Pawkie Paiterson's auld grey yaud, Sae that's the end o' mie."
This quaint and curious ditty is popularly ascribed to George Ballantyne, a stocking-maker in Hawick, well known in his day as "Soapy Ballantyne," and who died many years ago. Supposed to he a parody on an old Northumbrian ballad, the piece first came before the public in or about the year 1811; and set out as it is in the true Teri vernacular, it has always been very popular in the district to which it belongs. But it has been sung far from Hawick, and its appearance here will afford it yet a wider field. The author of the words, by the bye, receives credit also for the music, and popularised the ballad, I have been told, by singing it at weddings and social gatherings generally, where he frequently officiated as fiddler and minstrel.