Children's Rhymes, Children's Games, Children's Songs, Children's Stories Part 21

And it's braw milking the kye, kye, It's braw milking the kye; The birds are singing, the bells are ringing, The wild deer come galloping by, by, The wild deer come galloping by.

And hush-a-ba birdie, croon, croon, Hush-a-ba birdie, croon; The gaits are gane to the mountain hie, And they'll no be hame till noon, And they'll no be hame till noon.

A prime favourite--none excelling it--has been

DANCE TO YOUR DADDIE.

Dance to your daddie, My bonnie laddie, Dance to your daddie, my bonnie lamb; And ye'll get a fishie, In a little dishie, Ye'll get a fishie when the boat comes hame!

Dance to your daddie, My bonnie laddie, Dance to your daddie, my bonnie lamb!

And ye'll get a coatie, And a pair o' breekies-- Ye'll get a whippie and a supple Tam!

By the bye, as touching the lullaby order of these songs, it is interesting to note that, no matter of what age or nation they may be, they are all but regularly made up on precisely the same plan. There is first the appeal to the child to slumber, or to rest and be happy; then comes the statement that the father is away following some toilsome occupation; and the promise succeeds that he will soon return laden with the fruits of his labour, and all will be well. We have been seeing, and will see again, how the Scottish go. The Norwegian mother sings:--

Row, row to Baltnarock, How many fish caught in the net?

One for father and one for mother.

One for sister and one for brother.

Even the Hottentot mother promises her child that its "dusky sire" shall bring it "sh.e.l.ls from yonder sh.o.r.e," where he has probably been occupied in turning turtles over on their broad backs. The Breton song goes:--

Fais dado, pauvre, p't.i.t Pierrot.

Papa est sur l'eau Qui fait des bateaux Pour le p't.i.t Pierrot.

The Swedish cradle song follows the almost universal custom. It runs (in English):--

Hush, hush; baby mine!

p.u.s.s.y climbs the big green pine, Ma turns the mill stone, Pa to kill the pig has gone.

The Danish does not prove an exception:--

Lullaby, sweet baby mine!

Mother spins the thread so fine; Father o'er the bridge has gone, Shoes he'll buy for little John.

The North German cradle song is:--

Schlaf Kindchen, schlaf!

Dein Vater hut't die schaf; Dein Mutter schuttelts Baumelien, Da fallt herab ein Tramelein, Schlaf, Kindchen, schlaf!

Which, being done into English, runs:--

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Thy father guards the sheep; The mother shakes the dreamland tree, And from it falls sweet dreams for thee.

Sleep, baby, sleep.

The simplest and crudest of these, we may be sure, has lulled millions to sleep, and by virtue of that a.s.sociation is worth more than many quartos of recent verse deliberately composed with the view of engaging the attention of the nursery circle. How many volumes of the newer wares, for instance, might be accepted in exchange for

KATIE BEARDIE.

Katie Beardie had a coo, Black and white about the mou'; Wasna that a dentie coo?

Dance, Katie Beardie!

Katie Beardie had a hen, Cackled but an' cackled ben; Wasna that a dentie hen?

Dance, Katie Beardie!

Katie Beardie had a c.o.c.k That could spin a gude tow rock; Wasna that a dentie c.o.c.k?

Dance, Katie Beardie!

Katie Beardie had a grice, It could skate upon the ice; Wasna that a dentie grice?

Dance, Katie Beardie!

Katie Beardie had a wean, That was a' her lovin' ain; Wasna that a dentie wean?

Dance, Katie Beardie!

Yet, there is tolerable proof extant that the above dates from at least the beginning of the seventeenth century. "Katherine Beardie," anyway, is the name affixed to an air in a ma.n.u.script musical collection which belonged to the Scottish poet, Sir William Mure, of Rowallan, written, presumably, between the years 1612 and 1628. The same tune, under the name of "Kette Bairdie," also appears in a similar collection which belonged to Sir John Skene of Hallyards, supposed to have been written about 1629. Further, so well did Sir Walter Scott know that this was a popular dance during the reign of King James VI., as Mr. Dawney points out, that he introduces it in the _Fortunes of Nigel_, with this difference, that it is there called "Chrichty Bairdie," a name not precisely identical with that here given; but as Kit is a diminutive of Christopher, it is not difficult to perceive how the two came to be confounded. Old as it certainly is--and older by a deal it may be than these presents indicate--it maintains yet the charm of youth--delighting all with its lightly tripping numbers. No less does--

THE MILLER'S DOCHTER.

There was a miller's dochter, She wadna want a baby, O; She took her father's grey hound An' row'd it in a plaidie, O.

Singing, Hush-a-ba! hush-a-ba!

Hush-a-ba, my baby, O!

An 'twere na for you lang beard, I wad kiss your gabbie, O!

While bedding operations have been in progress no song, surely, has been more welcome and effective than

HAP AND ROW.

Hap and row, hap and row, Hap and row the feetie o't; I never kent I had a bairn Until I heard the greetie o't.

The wife put on the wee pan To boil the bairn's meatie, O, When down fell a cinder And burn't a' its feetie, O.

Hap and row, hap and row, Hap and row the feetie o't; I never kent I had a bairn Until I heard the greetie o't.