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My kimmer and I lay down to sleep,
And twa pintstoups at our bed-feet;

And ay when we waken'd, we drank them dry:

What think ye of my wee kimmer and I?

Todlen but, and todlen ben,*

Sae round as my


loove comes todlen hame.

Leez me on liquor, my todlen dow,

Ye're ay sae good humour'd when weeting your mou;

When sober sae sour, ye'll fight wi' a flee,

That 'tis a blyth sight to the bairns and me,
When todlen hame, todlen hame,

When round as a neep ye come todlen hame.


THIS song is by the Duke of Gordon.-The old

verses are,

There's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
And castocks in Strabogie;
When ilka lad maun hae his lass,

Then fye, gie me my cogie.

* But and ben, is the outer and inner room. In low farmhouses of two rooms, the outer room is called the but, and the inner one the ben.

My cogie, Sirs, my cogie, Sirs,
I cannot want my cogie:
I wadna gie my three-girr'd stoup
For a' the quenes on Bogie.

There's Johnie Smith has got a wife
That scrimps him o' his cogie,
If she were mine, upon my life
I'd douk her in a bogie.
My cogie, Sirs, &c.

There's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
And castocks in Stra'bogie;
Gin I but hae a bonny lass,
Ye're welcome to your cogie:
And ye may sit up a' the night,
And drink till it be braid day-light;
Gie me a lass baith clean and tight,
To dance the Reel of Bogie.
In cotillons the French excel;
John Bull loves countra-dances;
The Spaniards dance fandangos well;
Mynheer an allemande prances:

In foursome reels the Scotch delight,
The threesome maist dance wond'rous light;
But twasome's ding a' out o' sight,

Danc'd to the Reel of Bogie.

Come, lads, and view your partners well,
Wale each a blythsome rogie;

I'll tak this lassie to mysel,

She seems sae keen and vogie!

Now piper lad bang up the spring;
The countra fashion is the thing,
To prie their mou's e'er we begin
To dance the Reel of Bogie.

Now ilka lad has got a lass,
Save yon auld doited fogie;
And ta'en a fling upo' the grass,
As they do in Stra'bogie :

But a' the lasses look sae fain,

We canna think oursel's to hain,

For they maun hae their come again
To dance the Reel of Bogie.

Now a' the lads hae done their best,

Like true men of Stra'bogie;

We'll stop awhile and tak a rest,

And tipple out a cogie:

Come now, my lads, and tak your glass,
And try ilk other to surpass,

In wishing health to every lass
To dance the Reel of Bogie.

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which I take to be the original reading.

These words were composed by the late Dr. Austin, physician at Edinburgh.—He had courted a lady, to whom he was shortly to have been married: but the Duke of Athole having seen her, became so much in love with her, that he made proposals of marriage, which were accepted of, and she jilted the Doctor.


Jean, daughter of John Drummond, of Megginch, Esq.


THE author of We ran and they ran, and they ran and we ran, &c. was the late Rev. Murdoch M'Lennan, minister at Crathie, Dee-side.

There's some say that we wan,

Some say that they wan,

Some say that nane wan at a' man;
But one thing I'm sure,

That at Sheriff Muir+

A battle there was, which I saw man:

And we ran and they ran, and they ran, and we ran, and we ran, and they ran, awa', man.

*This copy is given from Ritson's Coll. with his Historical Notices.-Ed.

+ The battle of Dumblain or Sheriff-muir was fought the 13th of November 1715, between the earl of Mar, for the Chevalier, and the duke of Argyle for the government. Both sides claimed the victory, the left wing of either army being routed. The capture of Preston, it is very remarkable, happened on the same day.

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