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[.—Tune, "Bung your eye in the morning," or "The brisk young lad."—The following is the original of a favourite comic song best known by the name of "Duncan M'Callagan." The eccentric Archibald Cochrane, author of "The Totums," given at p. 73, used to sing "Duncan M'Callagan" with great effect at his public exhibitions. On one occasion, at the Glasgow theatre, with the view of suiting in some measure the action to the word, the word to the action, he sung it mounted on a bona fide jackass. But the donkey was impracticable: it would not "gallop" at the proper places; and instead of unbounded applause, poor Bauldy only brought down on his head shouts of derision. The version which Cochrane sung began thus:

'Twas for a peck o' meal or mair,

Ae night, when coming frae the fair,

That Duncan laid, wi' his grey mare,

To rin wi' nine or ten, jo.

Then aff they set a-galloping, galloping,

Legs and arms a-walloping, walloping,

"Deil tak' the last!" quo' Duncan MacCallagan,

Laird o' Tullyben, jo.!

This set of the song was probably Cochrane's own. We here give a faithful copy of the original, as it appears in a small volume entitled, "Poems chiefly in the Scottish Dialect: by Peter Forbes, Dalkeith: Edinburgh, 1812." Forbes was a gardener at Dalkeith. It will be seen from his song that the race was not for a wager, but a "riding of the broose," or a race at a country wedding from the house of the bride's parents, where the marriage generally takes place, to the house destined as her future habitation; the winner of which race has the privilege of kissing the bride, and welcoming her to her new home, and also of opening the ball with her. "Brooses," especially when the bride is pretty and "a toast," are keenly contested races among the young farmers. They often extend over large tracts of country, in which cases they are always run on horseback. When, however, the distance between the bride's old and new home is slight, they are contended for on foot. Burns, it will be recollected, in his address to his Auld Mare Maggie, says,

"At Brooses thou had ne'er a fellow

For pith and speed."]

was at a wedding near Tranent,

Where scores an' scores on fun were bent,

An' to ride the broose wi' full intent,

Was either nine or ten, jo!

Then aff they a' set galloping, galloping,

Legs an' arms a walloping, walloping,

Shame take the hindmost, quo' Duncan M'Callpin

Laird o' Jelly Ben, jo.

The souter he was fidgin' fain,

An' stuck like roset till the mane,

Till smash like auld boots in a drain,

He nearly reach'd his end, jo!

Yet still they a' gade, &c.

The miller's mare flew o'er the souter,

An syne began to glow'r about her,

Cries Hah, I'll gi'e you double mouter,

Gin ye'll ding Jelly Ben, jo.

Then still they a' gade, &c.

Now Will the weaver rode sae kittle,

Ye'd thought he was a flying shuttle,

His doup it daddet like a bittle,

But wafted till the end, jo.

Yet still they a' gade, &c.

The taylor had an awkward beast,

It funket first an' syne did reest,

Then threw poor snipe five ell at least,

Like auld breeks, o'er the mane, jo.

Yet a' the rest gade, &c.

The blacksmith's beast was last of a',

Its sides like bellowses did blaw,

Till he an' it got sic a fa',

An' bruises nine or ten, jo.

An' still the lave gade, &c.

Now Duncan's mare she flew like drift,

An' aye sae fast her feet did lift,

Between ilk stenn she ga'e a rift,

Out frae her hinder end, jo.

Yet aff they a' gade, &c.

Now Duncan's mare did bang them a',

To rin wi' him they manna fa',

Then up his grey mare he did draw,

The broose it was his ain, jo.

Nae mair wi' him they'll gallop, they'll gallop,

Nae mair wi' him they'll wallop, they'll wallop,

Or they will chance to get some jallup,

Frae the laird o' Jelly Ben, jo.