Fra Benton Bank, to Benton town, There’s not a Pitman’s raw: So when ye get to the Moor Yate, Play footy again the wa’. Then hie footy, and how footy, And footy again the wa’; And when ye get to the Moor Yate, Play footy again the wa’. The wife went down the Moor Lonnin, And let her basket fa’; For when she gat to the Moor Yate, Play’d footy again the wa’. Then hie, &c. The stoby road’s a stoby place, And some o’ the stobs are la’; But still there’s some that’s high enough, For footy again the wa’. Then hie, &c. The Holy Stone’s a holy place, The trees are thick and la’; But they are nought to the Moor Yate, For footy again the wa’. Then hie, &c. Wapping Square is a bonny place, The houses are but sma’: But in them yet there’s room enough, For footy again the wa’. Then hie, &c. The lady did not like the house, For the air it was raw; It was sweeter far at the Moor Yate, For footy again the wa’. Then hie, &c. Young Cuddy is a bonny lad, And Robin’s tall and sma’; But if you come to wour town end, They’ll footy again the wa’. Then hie, &c. [Illustration] THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN. _Fought the 9th of August, 1388._ Camden, in his Britannia, page 850, gives the following account of this battle:--“There happened this year, (1388) at Otterburn, in Northumberland, a stout engagement between the Scots and English:--Victory three or four times changing sides, and at last fixing with the Scots; for Henry Piercy, (for his youthful forwardness, by-named Hotspur) who commanded the English, was himself taken prisoner, and lost 1500 of his men; and William Douglass, the Scots general, fell, with the greatest part of his army; so that never was there a greater instance of the martial prowess of both nations.” Sir John Froysart (who lived at that time) gives a full account of this battle, and says, that it was Earl James Douglass who was the Scottish general. See _Eachard, Rapin, &c._ From an old MSS. Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde, Whan husbondes wynne ther haye, The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd him to ryde, In Ynglond to take a praye: The yerlle of Fyffe, withowghten stryffe, He bowynd him over Sulway: The grete wolde ever together ryde, That raysse they may rewe for aye. Over ‘Ottercap’ hyll they cam in, And so dowyn by Rodelyffe crage, Upon Grene ‘Leyton’ they lyghted dowyn, ’Styrande many a’ stage: And boldely brente Northomberlonde, And haryed many a towyn; They dyd owr Ynglysh men grete wrange, To battell that were not bowyn. Than spake a berne upon the bent, Of comforte that was not colde, And sayd, we have brente Northomberlonde, We have all welth in holde.