FOREST SONG. 153 



The journey's long and rugged too, 



Some waters for to cross ; 

 Some hills to climb but worst of^all 



Is troughing through the moss. 



When at Felaar we do arrive, 



How pleasing 'tis to see 

 At night the harts and birds come home, 



In dozens twa or three. 



John Crerer he spies out the harts, 



My Lord Duke does shoot them ; 

 Curly * he does bring them home, 



And Campbell he does cook them. 



Tho' Campbell carries nothing there 



But just a pan and brander, 

 He can soon cook a dinner rare 



For the Duke or Alexander. 



And when our kites is a' weel cramm'd 



Wi' ilka thing that's rare, 

 Then to the toddy we sit doun 



Each man to drink his share. 



Lang life to you Campbell, 



To stear about the toddy ; 

 Of a' the friends I ever ken't 



Ye are a dainty body. 



Next to bed we do prepare 



The best way we are able ; 

 There is twenty lies upon the floor, 



And Maddy on the table. 



From wa' to wa', all in a row 



Like herring on a plate ; 

 The man that durst our camp attack 



My faith he'll no be blate. 



Such a regiment of Highland men, 



The Duke and Lord Cathcart ; 

 I am convinced they would defy 



The devil and Buonaparte. 



* John Forbes, christened "Curly" by the Duke, from his hair being 

 much curled, attended his Grace upwards of twenty years to the hill with 

 two horses, to bring home the dead deer to Blair. This man knew every 

 part of the forest, and could be directed to find the dead deer, though lying 

 twenty miles distant from Blair. He died about the year 1825, aged 

 about seventy. 

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