HEATHER JOCK. 



Of a different character was the Heather Jock de- 

 picted in the following old Scottish ballad, the author- 

 ship of which has been lost : 



Heather Jock 



Heather Jock was stark and grim, 

 Fought wi' a' would fecht wi' him ; 

 Swank and supple, sharp and thin, 

 Fine for gaun against the win'. 

 Tawnie face and touzie hair, 

 In his cleadin' unco bare ; 

 Curs'd and swore whene'er he spoke, 

 Nane could equal Heather Jock. 



Jock kent ilka bore and bole, 

 Could creep through a wee bit hole; 

 Quietly pilfer eggs and cheese, 

 Dunts o' bacon, skeps o' bees ; 

 Sip the kirn and steal the butter, 

 Nail the hens without a flutter; 

 Na! the watchfu' wily cock 

 Durstna craw for Heather Jock. 



Eppie Blaikie lost her goun, 

 She coft sae dear at borough town ; 

 Sandy Samson's Sunday wig 

 Left the house to rin the rig. 

 Jenny Baxter's blankets a', 

 Took a thought to gang awa'; 

 And a' the weans' bit printed frocks- 

 Wha was thief but Heather Jock? 

 176 



