FISHING AT HOME AND ABROAD 



"Gae bid the lass set on the pat, 



An' see it's no ower sma', man ; 

 An' pit twa gowpens in o' saut* 



To boil my bonnie saumon. 

 An' send for Jock an' Rab an' Tam— 



They're fishers ane and a', man — 

 An' bid them come to me at hame, 



An' eat my bonnie saumon." 



The gentry get their cooks frae France, 



Wi' mony a queer kickshaw, man ; 

 But haith ! I wadna tak' their chance 



When I hae sic a saumon. 

 Wi' it, an' some o' Scotland's best, 



A cheerer — maybe twa, man, 

 We'll gang like decent folks to rest 



An' dream o' catchin' saumon. 



Ance I was dinin' in the toun 



Whaur a' thing is sae braw, man, 

 An' there I saw a Lunnon loon 



Eat lobster sauce wi' saumon. 

 Wae's me that sic a slaistert should 



Gang into mortal maw, man. 

 To fylet the stamoch— spile the food— 



An' siccan food as saumon ! 



Wi' flesh as pink as rose in June, 



Wi' curd as white as snaw, man. 

 An' sappy broe§ they boil't him in — 



Aye ! thafs what I call saumon. 

 To my best frien' I canna wish 



That better should befa', man, 

 Than just to hae as guid a dish 



As we hae wi' our saumon. 



To Scotland's ilka honest son, 



Her dochters fair and a', man ; 

 To a' that lo'es the rod and gun 



We'll drink wi' a hurrah, man. 

 May they frae mony sporting days 



Baith health and pleasure draw, man ; 

 May muircocks craw on a' the braes. 



The rivers swarm wi' saumon ! 



•Two handfuU of salt. tA »loppy mess. JDefile. JBroth. 



82 



