The Foreman at Drum

The Foreman at Drum

Traditional

At ae Mairtenmas Term, the grieve fae the Drum,
Tappit me an the shooder an spiert gin I'd come,
Tae wirk his first pair, for a winter half year
Wi a big cleekit horse an a relietin meer.

There wis plenty o tools an the best o a squad,
An ye wir niver pitten oot fan the widder wis bad;
There. wis a prize-takkin buul an great thumpers a kye;
An a bonnie young quine in the kitchie forbye.

Sae we newsed tae the horse, the nowt an the ploo
An he held on the drink till I gie near gat fou.
Syne efter a half dizzen glesses o rum,
Like a gowk, I feed hame tae be foreman at Drum.

Ach, I'll niver forget the first nicht at the Drum;
An losh, bit I wish that I niver hid come.
There wis hardly a bowster tae hud up ma heid,
An the snores o the loon wid hae wakkent the deid!

Noo, the baillie wis big, he'd a bed the himsel,
An it wis jist as weel, for his feet hid a smell
Like a press fu o cheese, o my sic a hum!
There wis thoosans a fleas in the chaumer at Drum.

Syne the meer wis a kicker, an files she ran aft,
An the horse wis as stiff's an aul man wi a staff,
But, losh, you should heard fu yon gaffer could bum,
That day he feed me tae gyan hame tae the Drum!

The milk it wis blue an the porridge wis thin -
Like a coord in a battle - aye willin tae rin!
An the breid wis sae teuch an the scones wis sae raa,
Man, it took near a yokin yir brakfest tae chaa!

An Babbie the skiffy, she wis brosie an big,
She'd a gleck kine a ee, an I'll sweir she'd a wig,
Her face an her hauns wir aye black as the lum;
Nae winner the lads widna fee tae the Drum.

Ach, I'll niver forget the first nicht at the Drum,
An, losh, bit I wish I niver hid come.
The grieve wis a twister, his wife nae half-come,
Ach, I'll aye rue the day I feed hame tae the Drum.

--------------------------------
Collected from Gordon Easton, Fairmer, Tyrie, Fraserburgh.