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The Book of Scottish Song/When we were at the Schule

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The Book of Scottish Song (1843)
edited by Alexander Whitelaw
When we were at the Schule
2269453The Book of Scottish Song — When we were at the Schule1843Alexander Whitelaw

When we were at the Schule.

[The author of this song has kept his name from the public.—Air, "There's nae luck about the house."]

The laddies plague me for a sang,
I een maun play the fule,
I'll sing them ane about the days
When we were at the schule.
Though now the frosty pow is seen
Whaur ance wav'd gowden hair;
An' mony a blythsome heart is cauld
Sin' first we sported there.
When we were at the schule, my frien',
When we were at the schule;
An' O sae merry pranks we play'd,
When we were at the schule.

Yet muckle Jock is to the fore
That used our lugs to pu',
An' Rob the pest, an' Sugar Pouch,
An' canny Davie Dow.
O do ye mind the maister's hat,
Sae auld, sae bare an' brown,
We carried to the burnie's side
An' sent it soomin' down?
When we, &c.

We thocht how clever a' was plann'd,
When, whatna voice was that?
A head is raised aboon the hedge,—
"I'll thank ye for my hat!"
O weel I mind our hingin' lugs,—
Our het an' tinglin' paws,—
O well I mind his awfu' look,
An' weel I mind his taws!
When we, &c.

O do ye mind the countin' time,
How watchfu' he has lain,
To catch us steal frae ither's slates
An' jot it on our ain?
An' how we fear'd at writin' hour
His glunches an' his glooms,
How mony times a day he said,
Our fingers a' were thooms?
When we, &c.

I'll ne'er forget the day ye stood,
('Twas manfu' like), yoursel',
An' took the pawmies an' the shame
To save wee Johnnie Bell;
The maister fand it out belyve,
He took ye on his knee,
An' as he gaz'd into your face,
The tear was in his e'e.
When we, &c.

But mind ye, lad, yon afternoon
How fleet ye skipp'd awa',
For ye had crack't auld Jenny's pane
When playin' at the ba'.
Nae pennies had we: Jenny grat;—
It cut us to the core;
Ye took yere mither's hen at nicht
An' left it at her door
When we, &c.

An' sic a steer as granny made,
When talepyet Jamie Rae
We dookit roarin' at the pump,
Syne row'd him down the brae.
But how the very maister leuch
When leein' sadler Wat,
Cam' in an' threept that cripple Tam
Had chas'd an' kill'd his cat.
When we, &c.

Ah, laddies, ye may wink awa'!
Truth maunna aye be tauld,
I fear the schules o' modern days
Are just siclike's the auld.
An' are na we but laddies yet,
An' get the name o' men?
How sweet at ane's fireside to live
The happy days again;
When we were at the schule, my frien',
When we were at the schule,
An' fling the snawba's owre again
We flang when at the schule.