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Broadside ballad entitled 'The Storm on the Paisley Canal'




Copies can always be had at the Poet's Box, 190 and 192 Overgate, Dundee,


Pray look on this victim of Cupid,
Tae my tale of woe give an ear,
As sure as death I'm knocked quite stupid,
I'll gang wrang in the head tae, I fear,
An' it's a' through a lass that I gaed wi',
Ay, Mary M'Phail was her name;
My affections she hag cruelly played wf',
And left me like a wandered wean.

Spoken.?Aye, mony a time I hae laughed
at the idea o' folk gaeu wrang m the head an'
committin' suicide through love, but there's nae.
body kens the impression it leaves when vour
lass leaves you. I ken mony a time I hae fun'
mysol' daunering owre by Jamaica Brlg wi' the
full intention o' throwin' mysel' owre, but on
second consideration when I thoucht on the
trouble it would gie it her fouk, fairly spile my
claes, au' maybe catch cauld, I thoucht it would
be as weel tae nevor mind. Aye, Mary M'Phail
hasna failed tae mak' me fail plenty.


I wish that I never had seen her,
She has cruelly caused my doonfa'
She's awa' wi' the mate o' a steamer
That sailed on the Paisley Canal

Ye mann ken that her parents resided
In that famous place Paisley toon,
Tae first-fit them we baith had deeided
When Hogmanay nicht would come roUn'.
She said wl' the train she was tired,
And would like tae gang doon by the sea,
So a berth for us baith I then hired
In the Crossmyloof steamshib "Bumbee."

Spoken?Ay, freens, I spared nae expense
tae mak' her comfortable, I took a cabin pas-
sage in that latge and commodious steamship
O' twa hunder punds bur hen, the "Bumbec,'t
o' Crossmyloof. And before st arting that nich
I boeht a bottle a' the hard stuff. nane o' the
"Weekly Mail" kind, mind ye, but the rale Glen-
tak'it, some curran' scones, same potted head,
Some wulks, and several ither luxuries. I took
ane last look o' the shore o' Glesca', a carter
gied us a shove aff, and awa' we started, but I
micht hae kent there wis something gaun tae
tab' place, for before we left the Quay there
wis a punt lying oppeslte tae us wi' a lot o'
man-o-war sailors, on board, and they aye kept
winking at Mary, and she seemed ltk e it.

When passing the Shaws a great storm
Wi terrible fury cam on
got my Sunday troosers r torn
And Mary she lost her chignon.
I thocht I wad faint wi alarm,
When, A hauns on deck, the Captain roared,
And the erew was a chap wl yae arm,
He says, Throw the main deck overboard.

We hadno gaen far up the channel
When we felt such a thunderin shock,
The Captain gaed aft wi a candle,
And found out we had struck on a fock,
I lost Mary amfdst a' the commotion.
On a flour barrel I sprang aeross,
And by chance was rescnodf rom the ocean,
By a passing punt loaded with dross.

Spoken, ?There was a nice predicament tao
be in Talk aboot first-flttinn, I wis bobbin
aboot for three or four hours on the briny ocean
whustlin wi my fingers in my mooth as a signal
o' distress, but at last ane o' Drummonds Gov-
ernment screws cam in sicht, but they either
took me for a buoy, or else the spirit o the storm
and were frichted to tak me on board, but at
last they got convinced I was a human beieg,
so they hove to, and before you could count,
three I was on board and related my sad tale
tae the Captain. But I think a the Captains
Ere tarred wi the same stick, for he jist gied
bis troosers a hitch up an he says. Avast,
you landlubber, the girl will be right enough.
She micht be richt enough for them she was
wi but no for me; but however I arrived back
frae whaur I started, a sadder but a wiser man
I met a the ither fouk gaun hame quite hapyy
singing the Days o Auld Lang Syne, and
Let us be happy together, but I had tae gang
hame singing in tae mysel.
        I wich that I never had seen her, etc.

I had jist been twa days hauie tae a letter
Cam frae Mary that did mak me stare.
She said I should try and forget her
For she couldna see me ony mair
She got spliced the day after the storm
Tae the Captain for saving her life,
So noo I'm left quite forlorn,
Daunerin aboot lookiu oot for a wife.

Spoken.?Aye. the day I got that letter I
kent at auce it was frae Mtry, I could aye tell
her han write, ye wad chink it was wrote wi
the end o a potstick. It commenced wi, Dear
Bauldie (aye she was dear enough tae me ony
way, for the excursion cost me ane an fivepence,
my hail years gatherin, no speakin o three
penc hapenny I spent wi her up at the shows
during the fair time), she says Dear Bauldie,
I hope youll no tak it amiss o me marryin the
Captain o During the /ill/nbee, for what is to be
will be. D/ill/         the tempest me an the mate
got haud o an egg box an clung tae it tae we
were picked up by a large troopship o ane
horse-power and carried back tae the fore/ill/
port o Strabungo. When, without only
hesitation, he asked me if I would be his
partner for life, so I just said aye. because him
saving my life I thoucht he had the richt tae
get me; so when the clergyman asked mo if I
would tak him for better or worse, I said I
would tak him for the better the warst o't
bein disappointin you, but it eanna be helped
noo. Im appointed stewardess on board ane
o the carnal liners, so as there is to be a soiree
on board the nicht, an I hae tae attend a a party
o coalheavers. for the present I'll bid you an
everlasting fareweel, At the fit o the letter
there was a P.S. (I suppose that meant puir
Sowl), it said, If you came tae Strabunge
on Monday next I could get ye a job as pilot
tae pull up ane o the canal ironclads frae;
Paisley every morning. But I would prefer
bein at my ain trade weavin at hame, an.
content mysel singin?
        I wish that I never had seen her, etc'

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Probable period of publication: 1880-1900   shelfmark: RB.m.143(052)
Broadside ballad entitled 'The Storm on the Paisley Canal'
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