Sailors tragedy (1)/The wee wifukie

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THE WEE WIFUKIE.

The e was a wee bit wifukie,
⁠and she gade till a fair,
She got a wee bit drapuke
⁠that cost her meikle care;
It gade about the wife’s heart,
⁠en' she was like to spew.
An’ O! quo' the wee bit wifukie,
⁠I wish I be nae fu'.

If Johny see me barley- ick,
⁠I doubt he’ll claw my skin,
I'll tak a wee bit napuckie,
⁠before that I gae in :
She lyin' down at a dyke-side,
⁠takin’ a wee bit nap :
By came a paukie packman,
⁠wi' a wee bit pack.

He clippet a the wife's locks,
⁠that gowden were and lang!
He took her pouch and pursukie,
⁠an’ fast awa’ he ran;
The wife waken'd in a fright,
⁠her head was lights a flec,
An’ O! quo’ the wee wifukie,
⁠sure this is no me

When I was bonny Bessukie,
⁠my locks they were like gowd,
I look'd like ony lassokie
⁠whene’er that they were cow’d
An’ Johny was aye tellin’ me,
⁠I was right fair to see;
But somebody has been fellin me,
⁠for this is no me.

I met wi’ kindly companie,
⁠I birl’d my bawbee;
If I be bonny Bessukie,
⁠three placks remain wi’ me,
She put her han' down by her side,
⁠to fin' gin it was she,
But neither pouch nor plack she had,
⁠so this is no me.

I has a wee bit housokie.
⁠an’ in’t a kindly man?
A doggie they ca’ Dossukie,
⁠if it be me he’ll fawn;
An’ a’ the bairns about the house
⁠will ken if this be me,
But somebody’s been sellin' me
⁠for this is no me.

The night was cauld an’ di gin’ wat,
⁠an’ now but it was ⟨mirk,⟩
The little doggie hear I a foot.
⁠an’ it began to bark:
An’ when the doggie barked,
⁠she kent it was nae she?
O weel ken my Dossukie
⁠that this is no me.

When Johny heard his Bessie’s foot
⁠fast to the door he ran;
Cryin’, come awa’ my bessukie;
⁠it’s no me goodman:
Be kindly to my bairns a’,
⁠an’ weel may ye be;
Fare ye weel my Johnny, lad,
⁠for this is no me

John ran to the minister,
⁠his hair it stood on end;
I hae got sic a fright, Sir,
⁠I fear I’ll never mend;
My wife’s come hame without a head,
⁠crying’ out most bitterly,
Fare ye weel my Johnny, lad,
⁠for this is no me.

The tale you tell seems wondrous strange.
⁠seems wondrous strange to me,
To think a wife without a head
⁠could either speak or see:
The things that happen here awa,
⁠are wonderful to me:
I cou’d assaist wi’ Bessie say,
⁠’tis neither you nor she

When Johnny he came hame again,
⁠his heart was unco fain,
To see his bonny Bessukie,
⁠come to hersell again:
Sittin’ on a stoolikin’,
⁠an’ Tibbock on her knee;
Cryin’ come awa’ my Johnny lad,
⁠for this is no me quo she
⁠for this is now me;
⁠I’ve got a wee bit napokie,
⁠and this is now me.

Then Johnny took her in his arms,
⁠his heart was unco glad.
To see his bonny Bessukie,
⁠now a’ right but the head;
Although you’ve lost your gowden locks,
⁠your pouch and pursukie,
Come to your bed my Bessukie,
⁠and happy we shall be.

FINIS.