A Waddin’ in the Glen
50 Years Ago
Song. Tune: “A Hundred Pipers.”
Stranger—What’s a’ the steer in the village the nicht,
An’ what has gaen wrang wi’ the folk?
Villager—There’s naething gane wrang, an’ a’ thing is richt;
It’s Meg gettin’ mairit tae Jock.
Ye see, when a waddin’ taks place in the glen
It is a momentous occasion,
For a guid week afore’t the hale o’ the crack
Is wha’s bid tae the jollification.
CHORUS.
Then haste ye awa’ tae the waddin’ the nicht!
Dinna miss it whate’er may befa’!
Ye’ll never forget it as lang as ye leeve,
The lassies are buskit sae braw.
When ye’re bid ye maun hasten awa’ tae the bride
If ye can wi’ a denty bit praisent,
For the lassie we a’ dae oor best ye maun ken
Tae mak’ her doon-sittin’ fu’ daicent.
An’ the women folk a’ maun see the bride’s braws,
Ken what siller she got tae a fraction;
An’ the mair that she gets the mair they are pleased,
It gies them the mair satisfaction.
CHORUS.
The bride’s freens meet in her faither’s ain hoose,
An’ sit, if tae sit there is room,
An’ wait till they hear the fiddler’s lilt
That speedily brings the bridegroom.
The minister then the marriage begins—
As a rule he is tauld tae be brief—
An’ quickly he ties them a knot wi’ his tongue
They never can loose wi’ their teeth.
CHORUS.
An’ then it’s the grand procession that’s formed;
The best-man leads aff wi’ the bride,
While the bridegroom comes on at the tail o’ the line
Haudin’ close tae the minister’s side.
The fiddler leads at a lively pace,
An’ clear frae his strings does he draw
The bonnie sweet notes o’ that auld-farrant tune,
“Oh, it’s woo’ed an’ mairit an’ a’.”
CHORUS.
The procession maun halt at the bridegroom’s new hoose
While the bride gangs in tae admire;
Then a ferl o’ breed is thrown owre her heid,
An’ wi’ the poker she steers up the fire.
The procession moves on, an’ the auld wifies cry,
“Eh, sirs, but she’s bonnie an’ braw!”
The fiddler’s tune at this juncture is drooned
By the company’s hearty “Hurrah.”
CHORUS.
A’ the wey tae the Ha’, whaur the supper is spread,
They mairch tho’ a mile an’ mair;
Auld Bacchus afore them aye beckons them on,
For he’s routh o’ a’ guid things there.
When the supper is owre the minister speaks
On the joys an’ the sorrows o’ life,
Advises the bride tae be guid tae her man
An’ bridegroom tae be guid tae his wife.
CHORUS.
Then “Weel may we be, ill may we ne’er see,”
Is sung by the guests in accord;
At the end o’ the roon, wi’ a thunderin’ soun’,
They frichten the rats frae the board;
They disperse for a wee tae meet later on
Tae hae a nicht’s pleesure an’ fun,
For there’s naething like daffin’ an’ dancing ye ken,
Tae drive dowie care tae the wun’.
CHORUS.
The fiddler tunes up an’ rosins his bow,
An’ sooples his airm for the jinkin’;
At the very first note that soons thro’ the ha’
The lads wi’ the lassies come linkin’;
The bride an’ bridegroom lead aff the first dance,
Weel pleased wi’ ilk ither, I’m thinkin’,
While the auld yins that arena sae fleet o’ the fit
Gang canny awa’ tae the drinkin’.
CHORUS.
The fun an’ the daffin gang on withoot check
Till the nicht’s turned intae the mornin’;
They’ve even been kent for tae haud at the dance
Till the sun the hill-taps was adornin’.
But if dreich is the dance, the drinkin’ is waur;
Never heard is the craw o’ the cock;
For as lang as there’s drink an’ the jollity guid
It’s nae easy maiter tae stop.
CHORUS.
“But the drink gangs dune afore the drooth,”
An’ the herts o’ the tipplers a’ sadden,
An’ ilka yin noo maun fin’ his wey hame,
For that is the end o’ the waddin’.
Noo dinna ye think that they’re gien tae the drink,
An’ tae honour they’re no weel behaudin’;
They’re leal an’ they’re true, their marrows are few,
Tho’ they tak’ a wee drap at a waddin’.
CHORUS.