7 And aye he harped and he carped, Till a’ the lordlings fell asleep; Syne bundled his fiddles upon his back, And down the stairs fu fast did creep. 8 He’s taen the halter out o his hose, And o his purpose he didna fail; He’s cast a hook on the Wanton’s nose, And tied him to the gray mear’s tale. 9 He’s led them awa by the back yett, And hounded them out at a wee hole; The mear she neer let the Wanton bait Till hame at Lochmaben town wi her foal. 10 And when they cam to the house-end, Wi mony a nicker but an a neigh, They waukend the auld wife out o her sleep; She was a-dreaming she was fouie. 11 ‘Rise up, rise up, my servant-lass, Let in your master and his mear;’ ‘It’s by my sooth,’ the wee lassie goud say, ‘I’m in a sleeping drowsy air.’ 12 Wi mony a gaunt she turned her round, And keekit through at a wee hole; ‘It’s by my sooth!’ the wee lassie goud say, ‘Our mear has gotten a braw brown foal!’ 13 ‘Lie still, lie still, ye lazy lass, It’s but the moon shines in your ee;’ ‘Na, by my sooth,’ the lassie goud say, ‘And he’s bigger than ony o his degree.’ 14 Then lightly rose the gude auld wife, I wat the first up in a’ the town; She took the grit oats intil her lap And fodderd King Henry’s Wanton Brown. 15 King Henry’s groom rase in the morn, And he was of a sorry cheer: ‘King Henry’s Wanton Brown’s awa, And sae is the silly auld harper’s mear!’ 16 Up then rase the auld harper, And loudly he did curse and swear: ‘In Scotland they but steald my foal, In England ye hae steald my mear!’ 17 ‘It’s haud your tongue,’ King Henry did say, ‘Ye’ll hae nae cause to curse or swear; Here’s thirty guineas for your foal, And three times thirty for your mear.’ * * * * * D Taken down by the Rev George Murray from the singing of Sarah Rae, a weak-minded woman of Balmaclellan, Kirkcudbright, 1866. Communicated by Mr Macmath. 1 There was a poor silly harper-man, And he lived in Lochmaben toon, And he has wagered wi lairds and lords, And mony a guinea ag_ains_t a croon. Tum tid iddly Dodaly diddely Tidaly diddaly Dodaly dan 2 And he has wagered wi lairds and lords, And mony a guinea ag_ains_t a croon, That into England he w_oul_d go, And steal King Henerie’s Wanton Broun. 3 Out spak the silly poor harper’s wife, And O but she spak wililie: ‘If into England you do go, Leave the wee-wee foal wi me.’ 4 The harper he got on to ride, And O but he rode richt highlie! The very first man that he did meet, They said it was King Henerie. 5 ‘Licht doon, licht doon, ye silly poor harper, And o _you_r harping let me hear;’ ‘And by my sooth,’ quoth the silly poor harper, ‘I’d rather hae stabling for my mear.’