Colville, Ian
'Twis mingin whaur the Fresian kyne
had stood and fill'd the tapmaist gruip,
though tentless swine had aye lang syne
full scunnert Pate, he widnae clype.
"Beware the Wackerjobby, heuch!
The jaws that bite, the cleuks that snatch!
Beware the reek, tak ne'er a feuch
o' smeukin Bogle-wratch!"
He yoket in wi' graip in hand;
yon futrett beastie whit he soucht.
He restit aince 'neath Rodden tree
as aye he tyauved and focht.
Whan keekin' through a dreichly smirr
the Wackerjobby's een lowed reid,
they gart his wee bit smeddum stir.
Awfae feart, he kept the heid,
syne oot he gaed wi' ane big lowp.
Wi' sharny graip and stobbity-stobs
he struck it thrice, and saw it cowp
and sclyter then in clarty dubs,
sae noo the Wackerjobby's slain.
Sin syne the quines frae far and wide
come spier for gallus tyeuchter swain,
the loon frae Ythanside.
'Twis mingin whaur the Fresian kyne
had stood and fill'd the tapmaist gruip,
though tentless swine had aye lang syne
full scunnert Pate, he widnae clype.