I can get a lass for naething, I can get a lass for naething, Lass for naething, lass for naething, My pick and wale for ae bawbee. Gillie-Callum, etc. I can get a wife for tuppence, I can get a wife for tuppence, Wife for tuppence, wife for tuppence, A useless ane for ae bawbee. Gillie-Callum, etc.” “THE REEL O’ TULLOCH” has two alleged origins, but one at least is discredited by the known character of the people concerned. It was on a wild Sunday in the parish of Tulloch, Aberdeenshire, that the minister, thinking his people would not venture out, stayed at home. His congregation, however, to whom the kirk was a trysting-place, turned up as usual. For a time they waited patiently enough, but by and bye, moved by the stormy weather and their minister’s absence, they proposed refreshments. The collection ladle was sent round, and the proceeds invested in “yill” at the neighbouring change-house. As the liquor took effect the fun grew more furious, and at last a dance was suggested. The enthusiasm rose even to this height, the village cobbler mounted the pulpit, the blacksmith from the precentor’s box roared out the ditty “John, come kiss me now,” and the floor rang with the flying feet of the dancing congregation. The fiddler, impressed for the occasion, allowed his bow to get more and more into the spirit of the gathering; it went madder and madder as the excitement increased, and at last, in a sudden burst of inspiration, he improvised the dance tune of all dance tunes—“Reel o’ Tulloch.” Tradition is silent as to what befel the revellers in so sacred a place, as well it may. It is hardly possible to imagine a company of Scottish Established Church people looking at a fiddler on the Sabbath, much less dancing in church to his music.