8
Ye'll wonder what came o' this wee, wee man,
Fiddledum, faddledum, fee, fee, fee;
He bought a green coat— an' to fairy lan' ran,
An' now he is king o' that countrie.
GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR.
There dwalt a man on Crawford moor,
And John Blunt was his name ;
He made gude maut, aud brew'd gude ale,
And bore a wondrous fame.
Now it fell upon a Martinmas time,
And a gay time it was than,
That Johnie's wife had puddings to make,
And she boil'd them in the pan.
The wind swept cauld frae north to south,
And blew into the floor;
Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife,
Get up and bar the door.
My hand is in my husewife-cap,
Gudeman as ye may see;
If its no barr'd this hunder year,
It's no be barr'd by me.
They made a paction 'tween them twa,
A paction firm and sure,
Whoever spoke the foremost word,
Should rise and bar the door.
Twa travellers had tint their gate,
As o'er the hills they foor,
