The Banff and Buchan Collection

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Tape 1993.019 transcription

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[GS] Big hand for Mrs Gerard [applause].

I wis gaen tae tell ye aboot Jockie Burnett. Nae lang ago Jockie landed in the Coort hoose in Aiberdeen ye ken. The judge says till him, you were brought in by two policemen last night. That's right your honour. Drunk I suppose? Yes your honour, he says, they were, both of them [laughs]. Did ye hear aboot the Irish woman--a lot o Irish folk here the nicht? I wouldnae think it. An Irish woman gaed tae the priest, and oh father, she says, I want a separation from ma husband. Oh, you dear, he says, has he been cruel to you, has he beaten you. She says, he never laid a finger on me all our married days. Oh, he says, then has he ever left you short of money? She says, no father he never left me short. Then has he been unfaithful to you, she says--we've got him there father, me last two children weren't his! [laughs].

Isn't it great tae see a' this young fowk here! There wis a while we thocht that Scottish music wis gaen tae dae oot a the gither. I can say 'dae' because we're in Buchan the nicht. And jist look at a this wealth o talent coming up. And there's a man come fae Fochabers and he's won the Junior Fiddle, Junior Piano and Junior Accordion competitions this aifterneen [applause]. He must be a fiddler. We're gaen tae get him on tae play the fiddle first.


[GS] Grand fiddlin, he wis doon here last year wi the Fochabers fiddlers, but he said tae them, ach you bide at hame and I'll dae the job masel [applause].

Now we've got Scott Gardiner a' the wae fae Forfar. He won the Junior Ballad and he's going to sing the Big Kilmarnock Bunnet.

[SG] It's got a good chorus, so please join in.

Fin I was aff to leave the ploo I said to Fairmer Broon,
The money that I hae workit for will you kindly lay it doon,
This very day I mean to be in Glesga toon by half past three,
I've been a ower lang a gackie[?] in the country.

Wi ma big Kilmarnock bunnet, as I ran to catch the train,
I'll never forget the trick that was played on me by Sandy Laing,
He said 'Man Jock when ye get tae the toon speir ye for Katie Bain, ma loon,
She bides at number echty street in Glesga.'

Well, when I arrived in Glesga toon, the first young man I met,
I speired at him quite civilly, 'Will ye show me echty street?'
He says, 'Dae ye tak me fur a mug' and wae that he got me on the lug,
Man says he, ye'll meet yer match in Glesca.'

Wi ma big Kilmarnock bunnet, as I ran to catch the train,
I'll never forget the trick that was played on me by Sandy Laing,
He said 'Man Jock when ye get tae the toon speir ye for Katie Bain, ma loon,
She bides at number echty street in Glesga.'

Well I met up wae a bonnie lass dressed in a strippet frock,
She looked at me and sin she said, 'Hello is that you, Jock?
Yer big Kilmarnock's awfae plum[?] come oan and staun us a doddle o rum,
Foo lang div ye intend tae be in Glesga?'

Wi ma big Kilmarnock bunnet, as I ran to catch the train,
I'll never forget the trick that was played on me by Sandy Laing,
He said 'Man Jock when ye get tae the toon speir ye for Katie Bain, ma loon,
She bides at number echty street in Glesga.'

Now the lassie wi the strippet frock her name wis Katie Bain,
As long as I live I only hope that I will never see her again,
She left me wae ma breeks and shirt and big Kilmarnock covert wae dirt,
And rowin in the muckle streets o Glesga.

Wi ma big Kilmarnock bunnet, as I ran to catch the train,
I'll never forget the trick that was played on me by Sandy Laing,
He said 'Man Jock when ye get tae the toon speir ye for Katie Bain, ma loon,
She bides at number echty street in Glesga.'

Oh but that's nae a ma troubles yet, I'd other three besides,
The nicht bein dark and me being drunk, I fell intae the Clyde,
When bobbies come they ran me and swore they sa' me jumpin in,
I got sixty days in jail in Glesga.

Wi ma big Kilmarnock bunnet, as I ran to catch the train,
I'll never forget the trick that was played on me by Sandy Laing,
He said 'Man Jock when ye get tae the toon speir ye for Katie Bain, ma loon,
She bides at number echty street in Glesga.'



[GS] Now we've got the Junior Group, and it's the pupils of New Deer School [applause] are coming to the stage. Now I said I hid something tae say--they're nae a juniors [laughs].

[Evelyn] I used tae be Geordie!

[GS] If onything his tae been oot o order, ye jist ca on Evelyn, so they are going to be accompanied by Evelyn


[GS] Now we've got another man who needs no introduction. He's been here every year that there's been a Strichen festival. He wins every time, so you've seen him--what's this the seventh festival? So you've seen him aboot fourteen times I think on the stage, because he taks baith Bothy Ballad and Ballad, so a big hand tae Joe Aitken [applause].

[JA] Well, he's wrang [laughs]. Cause I didnae win them baith.

Oh here I am a stranger just new come fae the sea,
My ship she lies at anchor in the harbour o Dundee,
And yer face it is the fairest that ever I hae seen,
O fair maid would ye walk wi me doon by the Magdalene Green?

A roguish smile upon her cheeks, she answered me and said,
Kind sir I'd go a long wi you, but you know I am afraid,
The paths they are sae slippery, the night sae cold and keen,
It wouldnae dae for me tae fa doon by the Magdalene Green.

Wi kind words and promises, alang wi me she went,
We rambled here, we rambled there, wi love and pleasure bent,
And oft times did we sit and talk about love's please scene,
I fear that maid had mony's a fa doon by the Magdalene Green,

But soon the time for parting came, my ship had hoisted sail,
Nae langer would I see my dear or tell love's pleasant tale,
I sang fareweel tae auld Dundee, where happy I had been,
And she was left tae walk alone doon by the Magdalene Green.

One night while on my bed I lay, when my weary watch was done,
I dreamt I was the father o a darling little son,
And in my dreams his mother too, was plainly tae be seen,
And she was weeping bitterly doon by the Magdalene Green.

And when my ship comes in again, at the harbour o Dundee,
I'll search the town all up and down until my girl I see,
I'll ask her to forgive me for the rascal I hae been,
And we will make it up again, doon by the Magdalene Green.

So come a ye jolly sailor lads, a warning take by me,
And never slight a poor young girl, for the sake o poverty,
Tae lightly love and sail away, is neither straight nor clean,
And never do as I once did, doon by the Magdalene Green.


[GS] We've anither man at's daen the same as Joe, he's come tae this festival for a lot a years noo, and he gangs hame wi the cup ae. So we want Bill Stewart on tae let ye see if he can play a melodeon [applause].


[GS] Twelve Years and under Doric Verse was won by David Ross from Lonmay [applause].

[DR] 'The Alford Cattle Show' by Jimmie Wright

I'll nae forget the mornin fin the fairmer said, noo loon,
Ye'll get aul Bess a deckit up and tae Alford ye'll gae doon,
Wi this horse in fancy harness I think we'll hae a go,
Tae try and win the first prize et the Alford Cattle Show.

Noo fin we landed at the park, I hid a look aroon,
And I met in wi the foreman, fae a place they ca'd,
He said, ye'll nivver stand a chance, I said, well that's nae so,
We hope to win the first prize at the Alford Cattle Show.

Ye nivver seen sic bonny beasts as whit I saw that day,
There wis prize bulls up fae Clunies, bra stots fae Corsindae,
Oh there wis sic a lot tae see there, I'm sure I dinnae know,
Fit why ye nivver come tae see the Alford Cattle Show.

Weel I got a rude awakenin, aul Bess took second prize,
And jist tae show she wisnae pleased, laid doon an widnae rise,
I thocht I'd better dae ma bit, jist to show I wisnae slow,
So I entered in the sports events at the Alford Cattle Show.

So efter I wis dennert, I strippit tae the sark,
And jined in a the races jist for a wee bit lark,
But the obstacles fair beat me, and my face wis fair aglow,
Ma breeks came aff gin throu a bag at the Alford Cattle Show.

I didnae let that incident upset my happy day,
So efter some refreshment I was feelin kinda gay,
And fan the band struck up a waltz, I thocht I'd hae a go,
So oxtered up aul Feuchie's deem at the Alford Cattle Show.

Noo as the nicht wis wearin on, I said, noo Mary Jane,
I'd like tae hae the last waltz and then I'll see ye hame,
Well that wis my undoin, but I'd like ye a to know,
We git married nae lang efter that Alford Cattle Show.


[GS] Well done David. If we hid mair folk like that in Alford, I believe we'd still have an Alford show! [applause].

Now we've got that talented man back again fae Fochabers, tae play the accordion this time.


[End of Side A.]


[GS] Now we've got anither competitor that maks a practice o comin here and gan awa wi cups. Every year I think it is.

So we've got Alison Elphinstone, she took the Intermediate Doric Verse and she's gaun tae tell's aboot Friday nicht. 'Oh for Friday nicht,' o to hear Alison Elphinstone [applause].

[AE] 'Oh for Friday Nicht' by J. C. Milne

Oh for Friday nicht!
Friday--hame and hummin!
Oh for Friday nicht!
Friday's lang o comin!

Noo lat's hae Geography!
Fut's the toun for jute?
Sit at peace Jemima!
Kirsty, dra yer snoot!
Hey there, Wullie Wabster!
Stop powkin in yer breist!
Fut? a horny-gollach!
Gweed be here, fut neist!

Faur's the Granite City?
Weel, Georgina Broon?
Glaisga? Haud yer weesht, quine!
Glaisga's just a toun!
Buckie? Hoots an havers!
The Broch? Preserve us a'!
Hey there, Geordie Gammie!
Pit that preen awa!

Oh for Friday nicht!
Friday--hame and hummin'
Oh for Friday nicht!
Friday's lang o comin!

Noo lat's hear yer spellin's!
Fut? Ye got nane oot!
A'richt--Nature Study!
Fut gars tatties sproot?
Heat and moisture--fairly!
Fut mair, Wullie Gowk?
Fairmers! Gweed preserve's man!
Fairmers dinna work!

Dod, tak in the bottles!
Fa wants milk the day?
Gweed be here, fut's wrang, Jock?
Needin anither strae?
No! Weel, man, fut gars ye
Stan there and gowp and glower?
Twa deid fleas in ye bottle!
Be thankfu there's nae fower!

Oh for Friday nicht!
Friday--hame and hummin!
Oh for Friday nicht!
Friday's land o comin!

Noo for Table Mainners!
Specially you, Jock Broon!
Dyod, man, fin ye're suppin,
Sic a slubberin soun!
And you Bell Bowie Baxter!
As far's ye're mebbe able
Try and haud yer elbucks
And spleeters aff the table!

Govie Dick--the Register!
Fa's nae here the day?
Jamie Tough--the nickum!
Granny's washin day!
Jeannie--German measles!
Tammas--twa blin lumps!
Jamie Tough? Fut's that, Jean?
His mither's takin mumps?

Noo the aucht times table!
Weel dane, Wullie Flett!
Man, ye'll be Director
O' the coonty yet!
Fut's that? No ye winna!
Weel, weel, please yersel!
Dyod, it's time for lowsin!
Wullie, ring the bell!

Geordie, shak the duster!
Jean, pit past the chack!
Fut's that, Wullie Wabster?
A wyver on my back!
Jock, the aspidistra!
Tak it tae the sink!
Canny wi't, ye gommeril!
It's auler then ye think!

Noo, a word o warnin
Afore ye tak the road!
There's twa Inspectors comin
Haud yer tongue, Jock Todd!
Twa Inspectors comin
Tae--fut's adee, Jean Squires?
Yer mither's mebbe comin?
Wha the deevil cares!

Oh for Friday nicht!
Friday--hame and hummin!
Oh for Friday nicht!
It's been gey lang o comin!


[GS] Did ye hear aboot the twa folk fae Glesga won a lot o money on the football pools. And the bookit a seat for America. So this little wee wifie oot ae Glesga ye ken, she came in an intae een o thon great big jumbo jet things and three seats up ae side and twa seats up the ither. So she landed next tae the windae in the three seats and settled doon and wee Jimmie came in and sat doon aside her. And they made themsels fine and comfortable ere ye see, and there's a great big Yank come in--onybody fae America here tonight? [laughs]. And he sat doon ye see and there wis silence for a while and then he says (bad American accent), gee Scottie I sure had it rough last night. Gee Scottie I never had it so rough. And she says, fit's he sayin Jimmie, fit's he sayin. Oh he's tellin me he hid it rouch last night. Ya know Scottie, he says, I went to a party, boy jeez he says, I've never been to such a wild party. Do you know, he says, we drunk about six of us, we drank one whole case of whisky, one--na' that woulda been twa bottles each, musta been a Disney party [laughs]. Gee he says, I never hid such a sore head in all my life. She said, fit he sayin Jimmie, fit he sayin? Oh he's tellin ma that he drunk a lot o whisky and hid a sair heid. You know, he says, when the whisky was finished we started on wine, and o gee, he said, my head was sure going round. Oh he said, I was hell. She said, fit's he sayin Jimmie? Ay, tellin me that when he drunk the fusky, he gaed in among wine and he'd a sair heid and it was waur. Oh, you know Scottie, he says, I lost consciousness altogether, I had to be put into a bed, and I reckon it was as a single bed, but you know he says, I had a terrible night. She says, fit's he saying Jimmie. Aye, he's sayin he didnae sleep well. Oh you know, he says, oh, when I wakened this morning, he said, I never had a hangover like it and I looked across the pillow, he says, I coulda sworn I saw a woman there. She says, fit's he sayin Jimmie? He's tellin ye that fan he wakened he wis seein things. Gee Scottie, he says, you know that woman I am sure I was hallucinating, he said, and that woman that I saw, he said, I never saw such an ugly woman but gee, he says, she was ugly, she sure was the ugliest woman I ever seen. She says, fit's he sayin Jimmie! Aye, he's tryin tae tell me that he thinks he's seen you today already somewey! [Laughs, applause.]

Ah well. It taks a kinds [laughs].

A big hand for Keith Anderson who won the Intermediate Fiddle Competition. [applause]


[GS] Audrey Steele fae Turriff, the Intermediate Accordion player.


[GS] A big hand for Jim Bremner [applause].

[JB] Your nae gaen tae leave me here masel!

[GS] A yersel, it wis you who wrote the poem!

[JB] I think it wis easier to write it than tryin tae recite it. It's ca'd Doddie Milne's day o the Green and it's aboot a washin day lang ago. I should point oot that Doddie Milne is my mother in la', so it's a true [laughs].

On a Sunday it wis Doddie's last prayer o the nicht,
Lord, please mak the morn be winny and bricht,
It's a whiles a sair chauve for the bairn, him and me,
So we're mebbe nae a that you wid wint us tae be,
But if we're nae Godly, at least we'll be clean,
For a Monday wis Doddie Mill's day o the green.

Wi the wash hoose fire set the evenin afore,
And athing tae hand at the back o the door,
The cannles, the washin board, claes pegs and rope,
The scrubbin brush, bleach and bar o white soap,
Six o the mornin, rubbin sleep fae her een,
A match started Doddie Mill's day o the green.

Noo at that time o mornin, maist folk wid agree,
A wash hoose in winter wis nae place tae be,
But each cannel flickered it's wee bit o cheer,
And the fire, sookin draughts, spread a glow ower the fleer,
While ootside the poles straitchered ropes in atween,
Stood waitin, on Doddie Mill's day o the green.

Wi a tub fae o clothes in caul watter tae steep,
She gaed up and wakened her man oot o his sleep,
Sin' made the porridge, spread rolls, masked the tea,
Hid her breakfast, washed dishes, she'd plenty tae dae,
For a their jobs that's wimmen's aye daen, not daein,
On Doddie Mill's day o the green.

Wi the bairn aff tae school, she gaed back doon the stair,
Wi stockins rolled doon and dust cappet hair,
Ready tae start, wi the door on the sneck,
Shuttin oot newsie neighbours, she'd nae time tae claik,
Twas on wi her apron, and aff wi her sheen,
Not wellies for Doddie Mill's day o the green.

There wis blunkets and sheets, and collars and socks,
Table cloths, peenies, bloomers and frocks,
Lang dra'ers and semmits, her mans good white shirt,
And athing else showing the least sign a dirt,
A washin t'would tak her near a foreneed,
Sma pleasure wis Doddie Mill's day o the green

Fae products tae help her, she'd plenty to choose,
Like Oxydyl, Cleansil, Lux Flakes, Dolly Blues,
But though labels claimed 'removes dirt wi ease,'
Doddie kent she'd tae mix them wi pure elbow grease,
But nae use in girnin, it hid tae be daen,
A ritual wis Doddie Mill's day o the green.

Wi the mangle uncovered she trailed the thing ben,
Wi lobster reed airms wi the strength o maist men,
And wi tubs tae fill up and biler tae teem,
She wid seen disappear in a wash-hoose o steam,
Dichtin suds aff her hauns, aye and sweat fae her een,
A trachle, wis Doddie Mill's day o the green.

So a mornin she washed and soakit and rubbed,
And biled and ladled and lathered and scrubbed,
Ca'd them a through the mangle and hung it tae dry,
Transformin her backie wi colour forbye,
And tenement folk lookin doon on the scene,
Kent fine it wis Doddie Mill's day o the green.

For wi greenie's cram full fae pailins tae dyke,
Wi wind flappit claes, though each seemed alike,
Fa's whites were the whitest wis never in doubt,
In a hale street o washin's, Doddie's stood oot,
Nae bonnier washin in a Aiberdeen,
There wis pride in Doddie Mill's day o the green.

Now gaen aifterneen wi the last o them dry,
She gaithered them in and put athing by,
Sin' humpit twa baskets o claes up the stair,
Leavin the wash hoose sluiced oot and greedy poles bare,
A washin day past, eens the ironin wis daen,
And so ended Doddie Mill's day o the green.

Noo adays, Doddie's machine daes the work,
And she's mair time on Sundays tae ging tae the kirk,
Tae gie thanks for her blessins she sees a'roon,
And tae pray that the bloody things winna brak doon,
And though mangles and bilers are nae langer seen,
She still ca's a Monday her day o the green.


[GS] We've got anither veteran in the festival. She's been here since the festival started, is is seven year and she's still winnin, so give a big welcome to Jean Duguid. She hisnae got her melodeon this time. She's gaun tae sing tae ye first and then we'll get the melodeon.

[JD] 'The Moss o Burreldale'

Hiv ye ever seen a tinker's camp upon a simmer's nicht,
The nicht afore a market fin and a'-thing's gyan richt,
Fan a' the tramps and hawkers and they come fae hill an dale,
And they gaither in the gloamin' in the Moss o Burreldale .

Fan the ale wis only tippence aye an a tanner bocht a gill,
A besom or a tilly pan, a shelt we aye could sell,
But we a' forgot oor troubles ower a forty o sma ale,
And we gaithert in the gloamin ower the Moss o Burreldale.

Noo Jock Stewart wid hae a fecht, he tore his jacket aff,
But squeakin and we saddled him and we a got sic a laugh,
Sure an our amon the tilly pans for a wee fite iron pail,
And she skinned him like a swarm o bees ower the moss o Burreldale.

Now Annie wisnae langer heard far muckle Jock McQueen,
He startit tunin up his pipes he bocht in Aiberdeen,
He blew sae hard, the skin wis thin, the bag began tae swell,
An awa flew Jack and his sheepskin pyoke ower the Moss o Burreldale.

Noo little Jimmie Docherty, a horseman great wis he,
He jumpit on a sheltie's back, some tricks tae lat us see,
Bit a gallant shoved some prickly whins aneath the sheltie's tail,
He first cast a shot in a mossy pot in the Moss o Burreldale.

Now the dogs is started barkin and the cuddy roared 'hee ha',
And a' the tramps and hawker lads and sic a sicht they sa,
Twas aul Docherty as black as nicht, the bairns let oot a yell,
So we shouldered wir packs and we made some tracks fae the Moss o Burreldale.

Noo spring cairts is oot o date, the sheltie is too slow,
And a the tramps and hawker lads his langer roads tae go,
For we a maun hae a motor car twa went oor goods tae sell,
But I'll never forget the happy nichts ower the Moss o Burreldale.



[GE] This is back tae the time o chaumer ye ken and the feein markets and the first bittie o this sang wis whit the lad wis promised fan he fee'd hame tae the Mains o Drum and the second bittie sang is whit he found aifter he wis hame.

At ae Mairtinmas Term, the grieve fae the Drum,
Tappit me an the shooder an spiert gin I'd come,
Tae wirk his first pair, for a winter half year
Wi a big cleekit horse an a relietin meer.

There wis plenty o tools an the best o a squad,
An ye wir niver pitten oot fan the widder wis bad;
There wis a prize-takkin buul an great thumpers a kye;
An a bonnie young quine in the kitchie forbye.

Sae we newsed tae the horse, the nowt an the ploo
An he held on the drink till I gie near gat fou.
Syne efter a half dizzen glesses o rum,
Like a gowk, I feed hame tae be foreman at Drum.

Ach, I'll niver forget the first nicht at the Drum;
An losh, I wish that I niver hid come.
There wis hardly a bowster tae hud up ma heid,
An the snores o the loon wid hae wakkent the deid!

Noo, the baillie wis big, he'd a bed til himsel,
An it wis jist as weel, for his feet hid a smell
Like a press fu o cheese, o my sic a hum!
There wis millions a fleas in the chaumer at Drum.

Noo the meer wis a kicker, an files she ran aft,
An the horse wis as stiff's an aul man wi a staff,
But, losh, you should heard fu the gaffer could bum,
That day he feed me tae gyan hame tae the Drum!

Syne the milk it wis blue an the porridge wis thin--
Like a coord in a battle--aye willin tae rin!
An the breid wis sae teuch an the scones wis sae raa,
Man, it took near a yokin wir brakfest tae chaa!

An Babbie the skiffy, she wis brosie an big,
She'd a gleckit ee, an I'll sweir she'd a wig,
Her face an her hauns wir aye black as the lum;
Nae winner the lads widna fee tae the Drum.

Ach, I'll niver forget the first nicht at the Drum,
In losh, bit I wish I niver hid come.
The grieve wis a twister, his wife nae half-come,
Ach, I'll aye rue the day I feed hame tae the Drum.


[GS] We're gaen tae get a selection noo from the man who's been on already. And he won the Melodeon Section, so once again it's back to Bill Stewart [applause].



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