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Clout the Caldron.

". A TRADITION is mentioned in the Bee, that the second Bishop Chisholm, of Dunblane, used to say, that if he were going to be hanged, nothing would soothe his mind so much by the way, as to hear Clout the Caldron played.

I have met with another tradition, that the old song to this tune

"Hae ye ony pots or pans,

"Or onie broken chanlers,"

was composed on one of the Kenmure family, in the Cavalier times; and alluded to an amour he had, while under hiding, in the disguise of an itinerant tinker. The air is also known by the name of

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"The Blacksmith and his Apron,"

which from the rhythm, seems to have been a line of some old song to the tune.

Saw

Saw ye my Peggy.

THIS charming song is much older, and indeed superior to Ramsay's verses, "The Toast,” as he calls them. There is another set of the words, much older still, and which I take to be the original one, but though it has a very great deal of merit, it is not quite ladies' reading.

The original words, for they can scarcely be called verses, seem to be as follows; a song familiar from the cradle to every Scottish ear,

Saw ye my Maggie,

Saw ye my Maggie,

Saw ye my Maggie

Linkin o'er the lea?

High kilted was she,

High kilted was she,

High kilted was she,

Her coat aboon her knee.

What mark has your Maggie,

What mark has your Maggie,

What mark has your Maggie

That ane may ken her be? (by)

Though

Though it by no means follows that the silliest verses to an air must, for that reason, be the original song; yet I take this ballad, of which I have quoted part, to be the old verses. The two songs in Ramsay, one of them evidently his own, are never to be met with in the fire-side circle of our peasantry; while that which I take to be the old song, is in every shepherd's mouth. Ramsay, I suppose, had thought the old verses unworthy of a place in his collection.

The Flowers of Edinburgh.

THIS song is one of the many effusions of Scots Jacobitism.-The title, "Flowers of Edinburgh," has no manner of connexion with the present verses, so I suspect there has been an older set of words, of which the title is all that remains.

By the bye, it is singular enough that the Scottish Muses were all Jacobites.—I have paid more attention to every description of Scots songs than perhaps any body living has done, and I do not recollect one single stanza, or even the title of the most trifling Scots air, which has the least panegyrical reference to the families of Nassau or Brunswick; while there are hundreds

satirizing

satirizing them. This may be thought no panegyric on the Scots Poets, but I mean it as such. For myself, I would always take it as a compliment to have it said, that my heart ran before my head, and surely the gallant though unfortunate house of Stewart, the kings of our fathers for so many heroic ages, is a theme

Jamie Gay.

JAMIE Gay is another and a tolerable AngloScottish piece.

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My Dear Jockie.

ANOTHER Anglo-Scottish production.

Fye, gae rub her o'er wi Strae.

IT is self-evident that the first four lines of this song are part of a song more ancient than Ramsay's beautiful verses which are annexed to them. As music is the language of nature; and poetry,

particularly

particularly songs, are always less or more localized (if I may be allowed the verb) by some of the modifications of time and place, this is the reason why so many of our Scots airs have outlived their original, and perhaps many subsequent sets of verses; except a single name, or phrase, or sometimes one or two lines, simply to distinguish the tunes by.

To this day among people who know nothing of Ramsay's verses, the following is the song, and all the song that ever I heard:

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Gin ye meet a bonie lassie,

Gie her a kiss and let her gae;
But gin ye meet a dirty hizzie,
Fye, gae rub her o'er wi' strae.

Fye, gae rub her, rub her, rub her,

Fye, gae rub her o'er wi' strae:

An' gin ye meet a dirty hizzie,

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