And gie to me my bigonet,

My bishop's satin gown;

For I maun tell the baillie's wife
That Colin 's in the town.
My Turkey slippers maun gae on,
My stockin's pearly blue;
It 's a' to pleasure our gudeman,
For he 's baith leal and true.

Rise, lass, and mak a clean fireside,
Put on the muckle pot;
Gie little Kate her button gown,

And Jock his Sunday coat;

And mak their shoon as black as slaes,
Their hose as white as snaw;
It's a' to please my ain gudeman,
For he 's been long awa'.

There 's twa fat hens upo' the coop

Been fed this month and mair;

Mak haste and thraw their necks about,
That Colin weel may fare;

And spread the table neat and clean,
Gar ilka thing look braw,

For wha can tell how Colin fared

When he was far awa'?

Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech,
His breath like caller air;

His very foot has music in 't
As he comes up the stair,
And will I see his face again?

And will I hear him speak?

I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet!

If Colin 's weel, and weel content,
I hae nae mair to crave:
And gin I live to keep him sae

I'm blest aboon the lave:
And will I see his face again?

And will I hear him speak?
I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet.
For there 's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck at a';
There's little pleasure in the house
When our gudeman 's awa'.

W. J. MICKLE.

SIR SIDNEY SMITH.

GENTLEFOLKS, in my time, I've made many a rhyme,

But the song I now trouble you with,

Lays some claim to applause, and you'll grant it, because

The subject 's Sir Sidney Smith, it is;
The subject's Sir Sidney Smith.

We all know Sir Sidney, a man of such kidney,
He'd fight every foe he could meet ;
Give him one ship for two, and without more ado,
He'd engage if he met a whole fleet, he would,
He'd engage if he met a whole fleet.

Thus he took, every day, all that came in his way,
Till fortune, that changeable elf,
Ordered accidents so, that while taking the foe,
Sir Sidney got taken himself, he did,
Sir Sidney got taken himself.

His captors, right glad of the prize they now had,
Rejected each offer we bid,

And swore he should stay locked up till doomsday;
But he swore he 'd be d- -d if he did, he did,
But he swore he'd be hanged if he did.

So Sir Sid got away, and his jailer next day
Cried, "Sacre, diable, morbleu,

Mon prisonnier 'scape; I 'ave got in von scrape,
And I fear I must run away too, I must,

I fear I must run away too!"

CHEVY-CHASE.

[Percy, Earl of Northumberland, had vowed to hunt for three days in the Scottish border, without condescending to ask leave from Earl Douglas, who was either lord of the soil or lord warden of the Marches. This provoked the conflict which was celebrated in the old ballad of the "Hunting a' the Cheviot." The circumstances of the battle of Otterbourne (A. D. 1388) are woven into the ballad and the affairs of the two events confounded. The ballad preserved in the Percy Reliques is probably as old as 1574- The one following is a modernized form of the time of James I.J

GOD prosper long our noble king,

Our lives and safeties all;

A woful hunting once there did
In Chevy-Chase befall.

To drive the deer with hound and horn
Earl Percy took his way;

The child may rue that is unborn
The hunting of that day.

The stout Earl of Northumberland
A vow to God did make,
His pleasure in the Scottish woods
Three summer days to take,

The chiefest harts in Chevy-Chase
To kill and bear away.
These tidings to Earl Douglas came,
In Scotland where he lay;
Who sent Earl Percy present word
He would prevent his sport.
The English earl, not fearing that,
Did to the woods resort,
With fifteen hundred bowmen bold,
All chosen men of might,
Who knew full well in time of need
To aim their shafts aright.
The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran
To chase the fallow deer;
On Monday they began to hunt
When daylight did appear;

And long before high noon they had
A hundred fat bucks slain;
Then, having dined, the drovers went
To rouse the deer again.

"Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come,
His men in armor bright;

Full twenty hundred Scottish spears
All marching in our sight;

"All men of pleasant Teviotdale,
Fast by the river Tweed";

"Then cease your sports," Earl Percy said, "And take your bows with speed;

"And now with me, my countrymen,
Your courage forth advance;
For never was there champion yet,
In Scotland or in France,

"That ever did on horseback come,
But if my hap it were,

I durst encounter man for man,
With him to break a spear."

Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed,
Most like a baron bold,

Rode foremost of his company,
Whose armor shone like gold.

"Show me," said he, "whose men you be, That hunt so boldly here,

That, without my consent, do chase

And kill my fallow-deer."