At Willie's weddin' o' the green,
The lasses, bonnie witches,
Were busked out in aprons clean,
And snaw-white Sunday mutches;
Auld Mysie bade the lads tak' tent,
But Jock wad na believe her;
But soon the fool his folly kent,
For Jenny dang the weaver.
In ilka country dance and reel
Wi' her he wad be babbin';
When she sat down, then he sat down,
And till her wad be gabbin';
Where'er she gaed, or butt or ben,
The coof wad never leave her,
Aye cacklin' like a clockin' hen,
But Jenny dang the weaver.
Quoth he, My lass, to speak my mind,
In troth I needna swither,
Ye 've bonnie e'en, and, gif ye 're kind,
I needna court anither!
He humm'd and haw'd, the lass cried "pheugh,"
And bade the coof no deave her,
Syne crack'd her thumb, and lap and leugh,
And dang the silly weaver.
[100] The origin of the air is somewhat amusing. The Rev. Mr Gardner,
minister of Birse, in Aberdeenshire, known for his humour and musical
talents, was one evening playing over on his Cremona the notes of an air
he had previously jotted down, when a curious scene arrested his
attention in the courtyard of the manse. His man "Jock," who had lately
been a weaver in the neighbouring village, had rudely declined to wipe
the minister's shoes, as requested by Mrs Gardner, when the enraged
matron, snatching a culinary utensil, administered a hearty drubbing to
the shoulders of the impudent boor, and compelled him to execute her
orders. The minister witnessing the proceeding from the window, was
highly diverted, and gave the air he had just completed the title of
"Jenny Dang the Weaver." This incident is said to have occurred in the
year 1746.