John Grumlie.
[This song, which Allan Cunningham says is "a favourite among the peasantry of Nithsdale," seems to be founded on the well-known old Scottish poem, called "The Wife of Auchtermuchty."]
John Grumlie swore by the light o' the moon,
And the green leafs on the tree,
That he could do more work in a day
Than his wife could do in three.
His wife rose up in the morning
Wi' cares and troubles enow—
John Grumlie bide at hame, John,
And I'll go haud the plow.
First ye maun dress your children fair,
And put them a' in their gear;
And ye maun turn the malt, John,
Or else ye'll spoil the beer:
And ye maun reel the tweel, John,
That I span yesterday;
And ye maun ca' in the hens, John,
Else they'll all lay away.
O he did dress his children fair,
And put them a' in their gear;
But he forgot to turn the malt,
And so he spoil'd the beer:
And he sang loud as he reeled the tweel
That his wife span yesterday;
But he forgot to put up the hens,
And the hens all layed away.
The hawket crummie loot down nae milk;
He kirned, nor butter gat;
And a' gade wrang, and nought gade right:
He danced with rage, and grat;
Than up he ran to the head o' the knowe
Wi' mony a wave and shout—
She heard him as she heard him not,
And steered the stots about.
John Grumlie's wife cam hame at e'en,
A weary wife and sad,
And burst into a laughter loud,
And laughed as she'd been mad;
While John Grumlie swore by the light o' the moon
And the green leafs on the tree.
If my wife should na win a pennie a day,
She's aye have her will for me.