Broadside ballad entitled ?Uncle Will?

Transcription

UNCLE   WILL.

SUNG BY W. H. LANNAGAN.

THIS    POPULAR   SNOG    CAN    ALWAYS    BE,    AT    THE    POET'S    BOX,

182 OVERGATE, DUNDEE

Noo, I'm a simple country chiel,
And I'm just cam' tac the toon ;
Because I am a stranger here,
Folk tak, me for a lood.
The folk they a' glower after me,
The wanes a' laugh their full,
An' tac ane auither ye wid here then say,
Oh, look at Uncle wull.
Spoken,? But the racals kent fine?

CHORUS,

That I had just cam' tac the toon the day,
An' thocht I'd buy some toys,
I've dolls for a' the lasses,
An' monkeys tor the boys;
An' when they see me comin' hame,
Wi' joy their hearts will full,
It's only yince a year they see.
Their Uncle Will.

When I cam   oot o' the station,
In the street I took my staun,
To tell the honest, truth, my frecns,
I kent na whaur tae gaun.
I've a sister stays in Anderston,
Awa doon at Cranstonhill,
But whaur it's aboot, it fairly puzzles
Honest Uncle Wull,

SPOKES.?I daunert in tae the Square youder,
whaur a' the statues is, an' I was staunin' lookin'
up at yin o' them when twa men wis passing. Yin
said tae the ither, "Look at this case. I winner
is he gaun tac spring up." They thocht I wis gaun
tae mak' a statae o' mysel,' an' I wis looking for
some place tae licht on. Then anither chap cam'
up, an' tapped meon the shuther "Whit's wrang
wi' Willie''. Whit are ye daein' here?" Says I,
Whit's that tae you? an' wha telt ye my name "I
guessed it." says he. Says I, I think there's a
lump o' the Christy minstral aboot you. Ye can
guess what I am dacin' here Says he, "Ye are
waunner't." Says I, Ye are a guid guesscr. Says
he, "Come awa, an I'll pit ye on the ear at the tit
o' Queen street." Y'e ken I hidna tasted meat that
day, an' ye ken there's a restaurant in Queen Street,'

Weel, when I cam' tae the door I changed colours.
Says he, "Willie, I ken whit's wrang wi' ye now ;
ye' re hungry." Says I, Ye're richt. Says he, "Come
awa' in here, an' I'll staun' ye a dinner." Says I,
He's no a bad fellow after a,' So we gead in, an had
a gran' spread. "Noo," says he, Willie, I've been
guessiu' a' alang. Dae ye think ye could guess ony
noo." Says I, I don't know, but I'll, try. Says he,
"Could ye guess the price o' that dinner?" Says I,
That's an easy yin: aboot half-a-croon. "Ye're
richt," says he' "Could ye guess wha's gaun tae
pay for't." Aye, says I, it will be you. Says he,
"Ye'll hae tie guess again an' he walked oot, left
me tae pay the dinner. But toe chap kent fine

Chorus.?

lntae the Polytechnic-
Was the next place I did gaun.
Whaur lots o   toys for girls and boys,
Was placed on every staun'.
The lasses there, wi' curly hair,
Ony chap's c'e wid full ;
But they fairly took their water afl'
Simple Uncle Wull.

SPOKEN.? It wis a winuy day, ye maun ken an'
jist as I gaed in the it blew a fearfu' gust, an' I
goad walkin up the pass as if it belanged tae mys-
el', when yae wee lassie says tae anither, "Ha
Mary, see whit the win' blew in." "Wheest," saya
she, "or he'll hear ye. I'm beginnin' tae think he's
alive." Anither yin says, "He's been set oot o'
Macleod's." Ah, but there wis anither big lassie
cam' ower an' settled the quiston. Says she, That's
a Member o' Parliament. He's a candidate for the
Rookey oot in Brighton.' Bit I gaed ower toe a
staun', an' bocht there twa dolls. She showed me
this yin.' Says she, "I'll gie ye't for tenpence-
ha'pny." Says I, as licht on my pocket ye can. I
just lost half-a-croon there in Queen Street. I
want anither yin for a wee lassie. So she showed
me yin at, tenpence-ha'puy. 'Says I, Whit way in
that ye see chape, ''Because it has a grau' widden
heed, like yoursel'. Well I bocht it. Says I, Bit
there s twa laddies yet. I'll need tae buy some-
thing for them. Is there ony monkeys in the place?
"Aye," says she, "a perfomin' yin's in the noo."
Says , Could I see it: "Aye." says she; "There's
a loom-glass at the back o' ye." I thocht I wis
gaun tae get my nairday frae her. So I turned run'.
I coud see naething bit my am image in the lookin',
glass. There I had been daein'my perfomia' monk-
ey tor the last hauf-oor. Bit tine that lassie kent ?

Chruos.?

PRINTED at the POETS BOX, by Wm. SHEPHERD

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