The Book of Scottish Song/The Wee Wifukie

The Wee Wifukie.

[Written by Dr. Alexander Geddes, a Catholic clergyman, and well-known by his translation of the Bible and polemical writings. Dr. Geddes was born in the county of Banff in 1737, and officiated as a priest for several years in different parts of the north of Scotland. He latterly settled in London where he died iti 1802. A memoir of his life was published by John Mason Good in 1803.]

There was a wee bit wifukie, was comin' frae the fair,
Had got a wee bit drappukie, that bred her meikle care
It gaed about the wifie's heart, and she began to spew,
I quo' the wee wifukie, I wish I binna fou.
⁠I wish I binna fou, quo' she, I wish I binna fou,
⁠Oh! quo' the wee wifukie, I wish I binna fou.

If Johnnie find me barley-sick, I'm sure he'll claw my skin;
But I'll he down and tak' a nap before that I gae in.
Sitting at the dyke-side, and taking o' her nap,
By came a packman laddie wi' a little pack.
⁠Wi' a little pack, quo' she, wi' a little pack,
⁠By came a packman laddie wi' a little pack.

He's clippit a' her gowden locks sae bonnie and sae lang,
He's ta'en her purse and a' her placks, and fast awa' he ran
And when the wifie waken'd, her head was like a bee,
Oh! quo' the wee wifukie, this is nae me.
⁠This is nae me, quo' she, this is nae me,
⁠Somebody has been felling me, and this is nae me.

I met with kindly company, and birl'd my bawbee!
And still, if this be Bessukie, three placks remain wi' me
But I will look the pursie nooks, see gin the cunyie be:—
There's neither purse nor plack about me!—this is nae me.
⁠This is nae me, &c.

I have a little housukie, but and a kindly man;
A dog, the ca' him Doussiekie; if this be me he'll fawn;
And Johnnie, he'll come to the door, and kindly welcome gi'e,
And a' the bairns on the floor-head will dance if this be me.
⁠This is nae me, &c.

The night was late, and dang out weet, and oh but it was dark,
The doggie heard a body's foot, and he began to bark.
Oh when she heard the doggie bark, and keenin' it was he,
Oh weel ken ye, Doussie, quo' she, this is nae me.
⁠This is nae me, &c.

When Johnnie heard his Bessie's word, fast to the door he ran;
Is that you, Bessukie?—Wow na, man!
Be kind to the bairns a', and weel mat ye be;
And fareweel, Johnnie, quo' she, this is nae me!
⁠This is nae me, &c.

John ran to the minister, his hair stood a' on end,
I've gotten sic a fright, Sir, I fear I'll never mend;
My wife's come hame without a head, crying out most piteously,
Oh fareweel, Johnnie, quo' she, this is nae me!
⁠This is nae me, &c.

The tale you tell, the parson said, is wonderful to me,
How that a wife without a head could speak, or hear, or see!
But things that happen hereabout, so strangely alter'd be,
That I could maist wi' Bessie say, 'tis neither you nor she.
⁠Neither you nor she, quo' he, neither you nor she,
⁠Now na, Johnnie man, 'tis neither you nor she.

Now Johnnie he cam' hame again, and oh! but he was fain,
To see his little Bessukie come to hersel' again.
He got her sitting on a stool, wi' Tibbuck on her knee:
Oh! come awa', Johnnie, quo' she, come awa' to me,
For I've got a nap Tibbuckie, and this is now me.
⁠This is now me, quo' she, this is now me,
⁠I've got a nap wi' Tibbuckie, and this is now me.

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