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01
[Pipe music]
[Applause]
[Robbie Shepherd] Thank you very much, very
much David, not only for the contribution tonight, but the
contribution all daCome on ye jolly plooman lads that work
amon the grun, Come listen tae ma story if ye wint ti hae
some fun, I',m nae sae young as a used ti be, Some say I've
hid ma fling, An I feel like a five year aul fin I begun sing:
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay I'll ca yer horse,
I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae, I'm as happy
as a lark fae dawn tae dark, And singin a' the day, Oh lalta-faloora-lido,
toora-loora-lay. Noo doon at Ellon feein mairket noo listen
fit I say, A mannie cam up tae me an spiered if I wid work
a pair a ten oor day, If I could ful muck wi a man he fairly
gart me gape, Says I, Ma man, far I cam fae we full muck wi
a grape, Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay I'll ca
yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae, I'm
as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark, And singin a' the day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay. I wis bothied for
a sax month it a place they ca Balcairn, Fin I gaed doon,
the bothy boys, they took me for a bairn, We horny hands they
ate boilt spuds till the bothy fleer wis happit, Wi tackety
beets I trampit a spud, an said, I like mine chappit, Singin
lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay I'll ca yer horse, I'll
sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae, I'm as happy as a
lark fae dawn tae dark, And singin a' the day, Oh lalta-faloora-lido,
toora-loora-lay. Noo the nicht a mairried Mary Ann I got most
affa fu, The minister startit tae tie the knot there wis a
hullabaloo, He says, Now what's yer name young man, and hiv
ye got the ring? You should've seen the mannie's face fan
I began tae sing. Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark, And singin a' the
day, Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.y. I mean that's
what makes Strichen so successful as far as I'm concerned.
It's the family atmosphere attached to it. I present to you
now, the aulest, must be at least oh five and a half I think
[laughter] by the looks o him.
02-03
Roon aboot there [laughs]
the junior group from Banchory under Mary Milne. [Applause]
[Piano and fiddles]
[Applause]
[RS] Well done indeed these youngsters, that's
the junior group, one of the junior groups today, and Mary
Milne's junior group from Banchory.
04
Well last year and this year
I've been affa happy tae meet a young loon. A nivver thought
I'd find somebody the same size as me, and the wee thing that
we did up in the square it just confirmed ti me, its one of
the best prospects I've heard for a lang, lang time. He's
keepin our own tongue alive. He's goin ti sing for ye the
one he won the competition with today, and that was 'The Buchan
Plooman', from Huntly, let's welcome Gordon Carroll, come
in Gordon. [Applause]
[Gordon Carroll]
[sings]
Come on ye jolly plooman lads that work amon the grun,
Come listen tae ma story if ye wint ti hae some fun,
I',m nae sae young as a used ti be,
Some say I've hid ma fling,
An I feel like a five year aul fin I begun sing:
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark,
And singin a' the day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.
Noo doon at Ellon feein mairket noo listen fit
I say,
A mannie cam up tae me an spiered if I wid work a pair a ten
oor day,
If I could ful muck wi a man he fairly gart me gape,
Says I, Ma man, far I cam fae we full muck wi a graip.
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark,
And singin a' the day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.
I wis bothied for a sax month it a place they
ca Balcairn,
Fin I gaed doon, the bothy boys, they took me for a bairn,
We horny hands they ate boilt spuds till the bothy fleer wis
happit,
Wi tackety beets I trampit a spud, an said, I like mine chappit,
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark,
And singin a' the day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.
Noo the nicht a mairried Mary Ann I got most
affa fu,
The minister startit tae tie the knot there wis a hullabaloo,
He says, Now what's yer name young man, and hiv ye got the
ring?
You should've seen the mannie's face fan I began tae sing.
Singin lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay
I'll ca yer horse, I'll sort yer nowt, I'll big a ruck o strae,
I'm as happy as a lark fae dawn tae dark,
And singin a' the day,
Oh lalta-faloora-lido, toora-loora-lay.
[Applause]
[RS] There's a spark in thon loon, not only
wi his singin, there's a spark in at loon, there's just, he
just wints tae entertain.
05
Well about ti play intermediate
tin whistle tonight a young lad from Fraserburgh, Scott Milton,
and Scott says he startin off with the 'John Macmillan o Barra',
one of my favourite marches, 'Orange and Blue' and 'Kenwood
side', welcome Scott Milton. [Applause]
[Tin whistle]
[Applause]
[RS] An thanks to Evelyn on piano there as well.
06
I'm delighted to welcome
Deborah Johnston. Come in Deborah. What's your poem.
[Deborah Johnston] 'The Puddock.'
[RS] 'The puddock.' On ye go wi 'The Puddock.'
[DJ] 'The Puddock' by J. M. Kay.
A puddock sat by the lochan's brim,
An he thocht there wis nivver a puddock like him,
He sat on his hurdies he wagglt his legs,
An he cocket his heid as he glowered through the seggs.
The bigsie wee cratur wis feelin that prood,
He gaped his moo an he croakit oot lood,
Gin you'd like ti see a richt puddock quo he,
Ye'll niver I'll sweir get a better nor me.
Their faimlies and wives an a weel plenished
hame,
We drink for ma thrapple an meat for ma wame,
The lassies I thocht we a fine strappin chiel,
An a ken I'm a dell bonny singer as weel.
I'm nae gan ti bla bit the truth I'm man tell,
A believe and the very McPuddock himsel,
A heron wis hungry an needin ti sup,
Says na but the puddock in gobble't him up,
Sine runkled his feathers a peer thing quo he,
Bit puddocks is nae fit they eesed ti be.
[Laughter and applause]
[RS] Well deserved applause for young Deborah
there. I'll hae ti sit doon masel noo, cause a canna ken fit
I'm deein [laughter].
07
??? to introduce now the intermediate in accordion winner.
And a lad again that I have known through my Aberdeen Accordion/fiddle
club connections, young Gary Anderson of Bucksburn. And he's
goin ti play for ye, come in Gary, you sit doon, come in sit
doon. Gary Anderson you sit doon [applause].
[Accordion]
[Applause]
[RS] Where does the talent come from. It gets,
it gets stronger and stronger every year, there's nae doot
aboot at. I hinna asked the next artist, if he wints tae stan
up or sit doon, bit having set the mike she'll hae ti stan
a doot, because I'm nae gan back an dee it again.
08
From Mintlaw will you please
welcome Liz Stewart. [Applause]
[ES]
Doon yonder den there's a plooman lad,
In some summer's day he'll be a my ain,
And sin laddie o and sin laddie aye,
The plooman laddies are a the go.
I love his teeth and I love his skin,
I love the very cairt he hurls in,
And sin laddie o and sin laddie aye,
The plooman laddies are a the go.
Doon yonder den I could a got a millert,
But the smell o dust wid hae deen me ill,
And sin laddie o and sin laddie aye,
The plooman laddies are a the go.
Doon yonder den I could a got a merchant,
But a' his things werena worth a groat,
And sin laddie o and sin laddie aye,
The plooman laddies are a the go.
I see him comin fae yonder toon,
Wi a his ribbons hingin roon and roon,
And sin laddie o and sin laddie aye,
The plooman laddies are a the go.
And noo she's gotten her plooman lad,
Is bare as ever he left the ploo,
And sin laddie o and sin laddie aye,
The plooman laddies are a the go.
And sin laddie o and sin laddie aye,
The plooman laddies are a the go.
[Applause]
09
[ES] The next song is called
'The laird of drums' its one of the most beautiful love stories
and songs that I've ever heard. [sings]
Oh the Laird o Drum's a-huntin gane,
He wis a walkin ae the mornin early,
And wha did he see but a weel-faured lass,
She's a-shearin her faither's barley.
Oh wid ye nae be a gentleman's wife,
And wid ye nae be his lady,
And wid ye nae be o some high degree,
And leave yer shearing be-o.
Oh I wid be a gentleman's wife,
And I wid be his lady,
And I wid be o some higher degree,
But nae I'm a match for thee-o.
For my faither he is a puir shepherd man,
He herds them on yonder hill-o,
And onything that he bids me dae,
I'm always at his command-o.
Oh the lassie can neither read nor write,
She wis nivver at a school-o,
But ony other thing a well can she dae,
For learned the lassie masel-o.
Oh she canna wash yer china cups,
Nor her mask a cup o tea-o,
But weel can she mak ??,
And a ?? on her knee-o.
Oh fa will mak yer bridal breid,
And wha will brew yer ale-o,
And wha will staun at the gates o the Drum,
And welcome your bonnie lassie in-o.
Oh the baker'll bake my bridal breid,
And the brewer will brew my ale-o
And I will staun at the gates o the Drum,
And welcome my bonnie lassie-o.
Up spake his brither John,
A man o high degree-o,
Ye're marryin a lass o this fine night,
And she's nae a match for thee-o.
For the last lady we hid in this place,
She wis far below my degree-o,
?? time I enter into her room,
Til our hands were below our knees-o.
If you were dead and I was dead,
And baith laid in our grave-o,
An ?? raised up again,
Fa wid ken yer dust fae mine-o,
Aye, fa's tae ken yer dust fae mine-o.
[Applause]
[RS] But here we have a youngster comin on now,
Oh I'm told just to give a wee bit a space cause she's, ken
a dominie, ken liable tae loup aboot a bittie
10
[RS] Here we have a youngster coming on now, and I'm going
to, oh, I've been told just tae gie her a wee bit o space
cause she's jist, ye ken like a dog ye ken, liable tae loup
aboot a bittie, ye ken! Temperamental critturs the ??, mak
sure ye've enough space for the ?? fan he comes in. But this
was the winner of the under 12 in the Doric verse today. She's
Barbara Morrison from Mintlaw, and she's chosen a J. C. Milne
poem - 'A Dominie's Day'. Here's the Dominie! [Applause]
[BM] Dominie's Day, by J. C. Milne
O a' ye loons and laddies wha hae taen a gweed
degree,
O dinna be a dominie fit iver else ye dae,
For a dominie's like the deevil, niver wants for wark nor
steer,
O a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a year.
On Monday mornin, sure eneuch, the bairns are
barely in,
Afore their tongues and tackets, man, are makin sic a din,
And Geordie's learnt nae lessons, and Jock's ye needna spier,
O a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a year.
On Tyesday the new Director comes to see yer
skweel,
Says he, 'Foos a?', says you, 'A richt, the bairns are daein
weel',
Fin in loups Geordie's mither, and says, 'Ye muckle leear',
O a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a year.
On Wednesday, look the sun's ashine and hark,
the birdies sing,
Says you, 'Awa my littlins, oot and dance a jing a ring',
And in dance twa inspectors, gweed losh and gweed be here!
O a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a year.
On Fiersday morn the smoorin reek comes yoamin[?]
doon the lum,
And yer swuppert[?] braw Assistant, Miss Jemima, canna come,
She's ?? a her bonnie legs on Brodie's barbit weer!
O a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a year.
On Friday nurse MacLauchlin comes careerin fae
the toon,
Tae look at Georgie's barkit lugs and Kirsty's kittly croon,
Says she, 'My man, I doot there's maybe mair than should be
here',
O a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a year.
Niest day there's neither bairns nor beuks,
but man, it maks nae odds,
For yer howkin out statistics for the Departmental gods,
And fyles its nae gweed kennin fit the craiturs want tae spier,
O a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a year.
Noo a ye clivver laddies what hae taen a gweed
degree,
O dinna be a dominie, fit iver else ye dae,
For a dominie's like the deevil, niver wants for wark nor
steer,
O a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a year,
No, a dominie's day I wouldnae hae, for a thoosan pounds a
year.
[Applause.]
11
[RS] Lets go onto the Junior Fiddle, and we've got Mary Milne
at the piano, and Maureen Chapman of Tarland is just tuning
up there just now, and when she's tuned up Maureen will come
across and she'll play the march, Donald MacLean's 'Farewell
to Oban', the strathspey 'The Smith's a Gallant Fireman' and
the reel shall be 'Pretty Peggy'. But let's welcome pretty
Maureen. [Applause]
[MC] [Plays fiddle.]
[Applause]
13
[RS] Well done Maureen and Mary. 'The Balkan Hills', 'Midlothian
Pipe Band' and 'George Harrison's Reel'. The winner o the
melodian, Bill Stewart o Cushnie [Applause].
[BS] [Plays melodion.]
[Applause]
14
[RS] A special prize given today for the local ??, and I was
so delighted, thirteen years old from New Pitsligo, Brian
Mundie, Brian well done [Applause].
[BM] The Frog and the Bullock, by Robert Stephen
A puckle puddock littlins were playin in a park,
Fan a bullock squashed a twa three, hidnae seen em in the
dark,
The survivors dived for cover ahin stanes and under bushes,
Said they wint tae find their mither, in the pond amon the
rushes.
O mither, there's a monster beast, gan prowlin
throw the grasses,
He's as big as twenty hooses and the grun shaks fan he passes,
Mither wis a pompous puddock and it vexed her affa sair,
Tae think that there wis somebody mair pre-eminent than her.
It couldnae been jist a that big, says she puffin
oot her chest,
She huffed and puffed a bittie mair, wis he as big as is?
Oh bigger mither, bigger far, fan iver you could be,
We've seen some muckle puddocks, but nane sae big as he.
The pompous puddock puffed and peched, till
her skin wis ticht and streetched,
He couldnae have been as big as is, yer giant monster beast,
O bigger mither, bigger far than onything ye've seen,
His hoofs were near a fit across, and sax fit in atween.
Her face wis like a harvest moon, as she puffed
herself oot mair,
She lookit like a bla'n oot ballon, her belly wis gey sair,
O bigger mither, bigger far, than onything ye've seen,
His hoofs were twa three fit across and ten fit in atween.
The mither frog wis furious, she said, I'm sure
you're wrang,
Then gulped a final breath o air, and exploded wi a bang,
If you're prone to gross inflations, like the puddock in the
tale,
Better min yer limitations, or ye'll mebbe hurt yersel.
[Laughs. Applause.]
15
[RS] We come on now to the senior piano, and I'll introduce
a lady to you tonight, and is a great day for Liz today because
not only did she win the Bothy Ballad in the ladies and the
main big ballad in the ladies, she also won the senior piano.
So Liz, you settle yourself doon at the piano now, Liz Stuart
of Mintlaw! Liz! [Applause]. And as you get yoursel settled
doon there, I shall introduce the tunes. You're playin 'Hielan
Weddin' for a start, with variations, 'The Laird o Drumblair'
and then 'The Bluebells of Scotland'. Liz, it's all yours.
[ES] Plays piano.
[Applause]
[RS] Right I couldna agree with you more, because
the piano in this ?? tends to be, well I wouldn't say pushed
aside, but you either back up some musician, or the, the art
of playing piano in that style is one of the ones that we
must obviously try and keep up and up, and Liz did it affa
well. Well I'm delighted to welcome our next artist up on
stage because em, last year she won the intermediate verse,
and she's now won the senior. And she wis affa happy tae telling
me the names that she's seen on the trophy when she got it,
that's fit it's a aboot. Being able, instead o just giving
up after you've won, just keep going, keep going.
16
So again, we go back to John C. Milne, from St Fergus, Morven
Jessiman with 'The Ident Loon' [Applause].
[MJ] The Ident Loon, by John C Milne
They leave the Mains, they're awa at the moss,
And Billy hid gaen aff tae the toon,
While up ower the hill on the five acre park,
Wi a lang shaft o teuch, wis a loon.
He'd hacket at tansies and thristles as well,
For maist o an hoor and mair,
So far could hae blamed him for takin a rest,
For his haunds and his airms were sair.
But far wis his pipe, botheration,
it wis ower in his jacket that lay in the weer,
But he seen worsel tap, wi a pech and a chap,
For it wisnae as gaen he wis sweir.
And gaen spangin awa the lang moleskin breeks,
Fustlin the Laird o Drumblair,
Till he came tae the palin and took fae his pooch,
The ?? he'd won at the fair.
Wi his jacket weel ower the tap o his heid,
Tae keep the bluffers awa,
He's scatterred a spunk wi a tremblin haund,
And a hairt that wis thumpin an a'.
But noo the fyte ?? comes yoamin oot,
Eneuch tae bleer his een,
But ach he's taen't the lid o his pipe,
If you want the fair astreen.
By the time he'd gotten't, his pipe hid gaen
oot,
Wi a his scutter and chav,
He slip et his pooches, but a he could find,
Wis a spunk wi it's heid broken aff.
Noo, fyte ?? wi a lot o shag,
Ach the thristles and tansies could wayt,
But eens he come back wi his hack and his ??,
And gar'd thristles and tansies skite.
He reestled awa wi his pipe in his haund,
He swappered and swacked ??,
Ach his legs werenae tired for his aifterneen's work,
Though his haunds and his airms were sair.
Jist ower at the shag he fell in wi a byke,
And since honey is kent tae be sweet,
He wallaped the bizzers wi bonnet and ?
Though he a laid deid at his feet.
Syne he dichted his haunds on his moleskin breeks,
And noo he's ower at the Main,
He's gotten his spunks, aye and the news forby,
For it's wearisome workin yer wain.
At lang length he's back, weel rested an a',
Gad, far did he lay his heuch?
Were it ower by the palin?
Or Doon by the yate, or ower in the thristley neuk!
He hacket awa for a meenit or twa,
But och, the tansies were teuch,
The great muckle thistles were dour as could be,
And his blade wisnae near sharp eneuch.
Aye at wis the maitter, his blade wis blunt,
Ach, he'd need tae run hame for a stane,
It's a pity, said he, lauchin till himsel,
Still and on, twould better be daen.
Wi shuck ower his shooder, he dannered awa,
Fustlin the Cock o the North,
An ident mole wis raisin her heid,
??
Wis that now worse than ?? as stirks,
Blan in the clean land park,
Though it hinnered him, still he beetter mak sure.
Twas a scarecra' daen it's work,
Then he come tae the steadin, nae steen could he find,
But the scythe straik it did as weel,
Though it mebbe took langer.
And noo for the trouch, tae gie his dry gullet
a sweel,
But far should he there but the kitchie lass, Kate,
Wi a fracht o watter tae bile,
Ken the peer trachled lass wis on for a news,
Twas but kindness tae liter a fyle.
But lauchin and ? were come till an end,
And noo he's oot ower the knowe.
He's scuttered a meenit tae fasten his pints,
For the ?? ??
And as lang's as he min'd he'd haud oot ower,
Tae see gaen the watres wis clean,
Ach, there micht nae be muckle a dae wi it o course,
Still and on, it hid better be daen.
He wis hinner'd a meenit fin coontin an oot,
Tae see if the ?? wis there,
There wis forty-een, he ging ower them again,
Ach, he'd counted the aul grey mare.
And jist as he turned tae come awa,
A hare lowpit oot at his feet,
And before he got haud o his tansie heuch,
Twas half ?? ower tae New Seat.
He lookit his watch, huh, a quarter tae five!
Fegs! Far had the aifterneen gane!
He leggit alang wi his heuch at his haund,
And a warrior's look in his een.
Noo back in the park, wi dreepin sark,
He gaured thristles and tansies flee,
Whaun sleekit auld hilly comes up ower the knowe,
At loon's a worker, said he.
[Laughs. Applause.]
17
[RS] A great command, a great command o the tongue there.
A young lassie on now, who won the intermediate fiddle, wi
the tutor of Andy Shaw. That's Tracy Moir of Banchory. So
it's 'Pipe Major Bob Brown's Farewell to Ballochuie' as the
march, the strathspey is 'The Smith's a Gallant Fireman' and
not for the first time tonight, the reel is 'Pretty Peggy'.
She's an affa popular quine this Pretty Peggy, I think, but
so is Tracy Moir. OK Tracy, with your march. Thank you. [Applause].
[TM] [Plays fiddle.]
[Applause]
18
[RS] In this time, I'm nae affa sure if she's sidin wi him
or no, but she is tellin us a aboot Geordie Wabster.
[KM] Geordie Wabster, by J. C. Milne
Weel Geordie Wabster fit excuse the day?
Please sir, please sir, it wis ma muckle tae!
For comin doon by Meerton wi' naether hose nor sheen,
A muckle loupin puddock gart me stotter ower a stane.
I doot Geordie, that winna tell,
Please sir, please sir, I didnae hear the bell!
For I trampit on a bees' byke, nae far fae Nedderbogs,
And I couldna hear the clapper for the buzzin in ma lugs!
Losh, Geordie Wabster, fits this tae me noo!
Please sir, please sir, it wis the grunny soo!
For I wis barely roadit, fin oot ma mither come,
'Rin, Geordie, for the fusky, Aul Stinker's taen a dwam!
I doot, Geordie Wabster, I doot ye're tellin
lees,
Please sir, please sir, twas mither's new cheese,
For it connacht a ma stomach, and it came tae sic a hicht,
I wis rowein like a bowie in the riggin o the nicht.
Gweed be here Geordie, this winna dae ava!
Please sir, please sir, I widna like tae bla',
But the verra morn's mornin, I'll waken wi the cock,
And come skelpin doon tae Memsie, fin it's ringin acht o'clock.
Aricht Geordie, ye'll be on time the morn!
Aye, sir, as sure's the boodie's watchin Hilly's corn,
And please sir, please sir, that's nae lee ava,
We'll lat that flea, Geordie, stick tae the wa'!
[Applause]
[RS] Well done to Kay Morrison there, we'll
let that flea stick tae the wa.
19
Must push on now. So I'm taking the Open Mouth Organ champion
now, this is Peter Angus fae Fogie, Fogieloan, Peter. Come
in Peter. You'll play the Hills o Lorne, the Battle o the
Somme, and ?? as yer third een. At's easy enough. That's fit
ye'll play. Peter Angus! [Applause].
[PA] Plays mouth organ.
[Applause]
20
[RS] We now come to the Intermediate on the, the ballad this
time. Well winning the intermediate Doric today was Alistair
Ritchie of St Combs, showing not only one, but he'll tell
ye aboot twa hoodie cra's. 'The Twa Corbies'!
[AR] 'Twa Corbies'
As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies makin mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
Where sall we gang and dine to-day-o?
Where sall we gang and dine to-day?
In ahint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight
And naebody kens that he lies there-o,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair-o.
His hawk, his hound, and lady fair-o.
His hawk is tae the hunting gane,
His hound to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en anither mate-o,
So we maun mak our dinner sweet-o.
So we maun mak our dinner sweet.
O ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pik out his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair-o
We'll, theek our nest when it grows bare-o.
We'll, theek our nest when it grows bare.
Monys a een for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he has gane
Oer his white banes, when grow bare-o,
The wind sall blaw for evermair-o,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.
[Applause]
21
[RS] There's a junior piano player comin on now, and that's
Sarah Anderson. You're going to play for us 'The Bonnie lass
o Bon Accord', followed by 'Stirling Castle' and the reel
is 'Rachel Rae'. From Westhill, Sarah Anderson [Applause].
[SA] [Plays piano.
[Applause]
22
[RS] Fit an affa hurry she wis, tae get fae there oot o the
stage, as though she couldnae get awa quick enough! But we
appreciated what she did! Didn't we! Once again for her, well
done [Applause]. Well done Sarah Anderson. Coming up now is
the Ladies Melodion champion, I never asked her if she's gan
tae sit doon or noo, she'll back at ?? come in here sittin
or staunin. Are ye sittin? Oh, yer sittin, oh give me complications.
Ok Margaret, you sit doon there, and Margaret's going to start
off with a slow air of Scott Skinner's 'Cirona', and then
the march we've heard already tonight, 'Father John Macmillan
of Barra'. Margaret Greig the Ladies Champion on the melodion.
[Applause].
[MG] [Plays melodion]
[Applause]
23
[RS] Let's go onto the senior Fiddle competition now. And
I've found that the winner of the senior fiddle today was
Evelyn Strachan fae Tarland. And I says, och I've niver heard
o her, and Tarland's nae a big place, yer bound tae ken abody
in Tarland. But I realised that the lassie only got married
six weeks ago, but I know her as a damned fine fiddle player
from Banchory, Aboyne, I beg your pardon. Evelyn Milne! Evelyn
in you come. [Applause]. Evelyn got married just say six weeks
ago?
[ES] Uh huh.
[RS] Is it a good life noo?
[ES] Och, it's a richt.
[RS] Aye, she's smilin aricht onywey. Ok. Starting
off with 'Mclellan Fairy Cross' as the first tune, the strathspey
will be 'Earl Grey' and the reel 'The Marquis of Huntly'.
[ES] [Plays fiddle.]
[Applause]
24
[RS] We come to the Intermediate now on the piano. We've already
heard sister playing on piano, affa well. We'll hear brother
now, from not so much as the Andersons o Tarland, but the
Andersons o the heavy weight scene! And this is Keith, ??
and it's 'James F. Dickie's Delight', followed by 'James F.
Dickie's Reel'. And we all know do folks wi the same heids
as me, the great competition contribution of James Dickie.
But Keith on piana, any time ye like.
[KA] [Plays piano.]
[Applause]
25
[RS] And I'm goin to introduce our next artist on stage for
you now, cause this is Bob Watt o Knockando, and the tune
from Bob is gan tae be 'The Gleniffer Polka'. Bob Watt o Knockando.
[BW] [Plays accordian.]
[Applause]
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