8
Nor kend what it could mean.
Allister M‘Allister, &c.
Now canton Willie was nae blate, For he got haud o’ winsome Kate, Come here, quo’ he, I'll shew the gate. To dance the Highland fling. The Highland fling he danc’d wi' glee, An’ lap as he were gaun to flee ; And tript it light and clean.
Allister McAllister, &c. Now Allister has done his best, And weary houghs are wantin’ rest. Besides they sair wi’ drifth are strest, Wi’ dancing sae I ween, 1 true the gantrees gat a lift, And round the bicker flew like drift, And Allister that very night, Could scarcely stand his lane. Allister M£Allister, &c.
FINIS.
