
Whit rare it wis
Whit rare it wis doon Roseburn way,
paidlin’, guddlin’ hauf the day.
The bairns had cadjoled me thus far,
tae flaunt my skill wi’ jeely jar.
Naethin’ loth – my feet were bare,
an’ as I tried yon water rare,
o’ cunnin’ still I found nae lack;
“Got ye! - great big Stickleback.”
Did I no’ teach thae bairns a wheen?
There ne’er wis catch o’ mennin’s seen
like this, I showed them how tae stan’,
an’ when tae stoop an’ cup their han’.
Sich mem’ries came; I waded on,
fair wrapped in guddlin’days that’s gone.
It a’ came back, “There were”, I said,
“Peenheids, Beardies, Doctors red”.
Whit rare it wis as sun beat doon,
Amid my ploys I birled roon’.
Jings! the kids played me a lark;
They’d fled - wee diels, tae Saughton Park.