LL-L "Literature" 2004.10.08 (03) [E/S]

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From: Sandy Fleming <sandy at scotstext.org>
Subject: "Games" [E]

Since children's games and rhymes have proved popular on the list, I thought
I'd present this article by J. Liddell Kelly. It's from "The Transactions of
the Rymour Club, Edinburgh - Miscellanea, Part I", published March 1906. The
Edinburgh Rymour Club was a sort of early 20th century Lowlands-L, but just
Scottish interest  :)  They would publish a few hundred rough copies of each
set of articles written by members, for members only. That was before we had
the Internet, but luckily I managed to salvage their archive!

"Children's Rhymes and Rhyme Games"

Personal Recollections of Fifty Years Ago

SCOTLAND"the North Countrie, a nation famed for song," as Beattie called
ithas produced more minor poets in proportion to population that any other
country on the globe. Opinions may vary as to the primary cause of this.
Some inquirers hold that the faculty of rhythmical expression is inborn in
the people, and had its origin in musical cadences caught from the flow of
rivers, the roar of waterfalls, and the rippling of burnies over rocky or
pebbly beds. Without presuming to pronounce on this abstruse aspect of the
question, I make bold to affirm that the love of hits, jingles, and verses,
and the capacity for rhythmical utterance, have been cultivated by hearing
the many rhymes that used to be in vogue in the domestic circle and on the
village playgrounds throughout Scotland. Before I had seen the excellent
collection made by Mr Robert Ford, and published by Mr Alexander Gardner, I
had started the compilation from my recollections of fifty years ago of
rhymes that were common in my native village of Caider Ironworks, about ten
miles east of
Glasgow. Many of those in Mr Ford's book were included in my list; but as
these are accessible to everyone, I need not give them here. As far as
possible, I shall confine myself to matter not in the work referred to,
though I may give some variants of rhymes in his collection. To begin with
the nursery, a favourite lullaby was

Loo, lootie, loo, lan,
Mammy's pet and daddy's hahn.

The last word of this rhyme was understood to mean "hen," but it may be
noted that "hahn" is German for "cock." A mother, beating time with her
infant's feet, the one above the other in alternation, would sing

Feetikin, fatikin, fitikin, tone,
Lie wi' me or lie i' the loan

or the following

Twa wee dogs gaed awa' tae the mill,
Tae fecht aboot a lick o' meal;
The tane got a lick an' the tither got nane,
An' the twa wee dogs cam toddlin' hame.

There was a touch of kindly admonition in a household quatrain that ran

A, B, the bull's foot,
Bannocks i' the awmry;
Tak a bit and leave a bit
And I'll no' be angry.

Here is a nonsense rhyme that I learned from my father

There was a moosie in a mill,
Kiltie, keerie, ca' ye me,
And a froggie in a well,
Rigdum Bummaleerie ca' ye me.
Ca' ye Deemie, ca' ye Keemie,
Ca' ye Deemie, ca' ye me;
Streem, stram, pummareedle, rally-bahly, rantan,
Rigdum Bummaleerie ca' ye me.

Among rhyming riddles I remember the following

As roun's a cheese, as sharp's a lance;
If you jump on its back, it'll carry you to France.
(The moon.)

Cauld kail cauld,
Nine days auld,
Boiled in a pat and sottert in a pan;
Spell "that" wi' four letters if you can.

As I gaed owre Bot'ell brig,
Bot'ell brig brak;
A' the men in Scotland
Couldna mend that.
(A broken bottle.)

A wee, wee hoose, fu' fu' o' meat;
There's neither door nor window to let you in to eat.
(An egg.)

A rather quaint prologue was spoken by the leader of a band of "Goloshans",
thus

Redd chairs, redd stools,
Here come we, a pack o' fools
A pack o' fools was never here before;
Big heid and little wit stands ahint the door.

Out of doors, rhymes were fully as prevalent as indoors. When we wished to
start competitors in a race, it was done with the formula

Coach horses, coach horses, what time o' the day?
One o'clock, two o'clock, three, and away.

In rhyme we delivered our gage of battle to a strange boy, accompanied by a
light blow on the chest or shoulder

There's the coucher, there's the blow,
Fecht me or ense no'.

We taunted the boys of the neighbouring village school in ribald rhyme, thus

Carnbrae scholars are no' very nice,
They bake their bannocks wi' bugs and lice,
And efter that they skin the cat
And plump it intae the kail-pat.

If a soldier in uniform came within sight, we shouted in chorus

Sodger, sodger, red-coat,
Followin' the drum
Fire in the mountains,
Run, boys, run.
Up wi' your pistol, doon wi' your gun,
Tak' a knife and cut your throat, and that's weel done.

We used rhyme in our solemn asseverations, as under

As true's death, cut my breath
Wi' God's pen-knife.

That oath was taken with a significant drawing of the forefinger across the
throat; the following with a wetting and drying of the finger

Is that wat? Is that dry?
God score my throat if I tell a lie.

When starting a game of hop-scotch (an entirely foreign name to us) the
girls were wont to shout

First at the pal-al, second at the peever;
My man's a gentleman, your man's a weaver.

Our other games--and their name was legion--had each their appropriate
rhymes. Thus at one game we used to shout

I'll sit in my dill, I'll ca' you a fule,
I'll ca' you a creeshie weaver.

I could never understand, by the way, why the weaver was always held up to
opprobrium. At a sport called "Auld Bull," we used the following rhyme

Auld Bull, red cowl, three times I warn you,
I warn you ance, I warn you twice,
I warn you a' your days in life.

One of our counting-out rhymes ran thus

Eenty-peenty, halligo lum,
The cat gaed oot to get some fun;
It got some fun on Toddy's grun
Eenty-peenty, halligo lum.

At a game called "Bairdy," one boy "makes a back," and the others in
succession jump astride of him and holding up several digits sing

Bairdy, Bairdy, buckety-buck,
Hoo mony fingers stan's up?

He guesses, say, two, whereupon the querist jumps off, hits him a sounding
whack on a handy part of his anatomy, and shouts

Twa you say, and fower it is,
And so you get anither whiz.

The victim is only released when he guesses correctly. There was a
rhyme-game to the following verse

Who went round the house at night?
None but Bloody Tom.
Who stole all my chickens away,
All but this poor one?

Another game, with question and answer, was

Hoo mony miles to Babylon?
Three-score and ten.
Will I get there by candle-licht?
Yes, and back again.
Open your gates and let us through.
No' without a beck and boo.
There's a beck, there's a boo,
Open your gates and let us through.

Our "Jingo-Ring" game, after the usual opening, proceeded thus

What'll you gie's to tell her name, to tell her name, to tell her name,
What'll you gie's to tell her name, and roun about merry-my-tanzie?
Mary is her first name, etc.

After the "second name" of a girl had been given in the same way, a boy was
similarly named, both were placed inside the ring, and the circling crowd
sang

Now they are married, I wish they may 'joy
Every year a girl or boy;
Father and mother, sister and brother,
I pray the young couple to kiss together.

Another matrimonial game finished up as follows

Up streets and down streets and windows made of glass,
Isn't Janet Rankin a nice young lass?
Isn't Willie Walker as nice as she?
When they are married I hope they will agree
Agree, agree, agree.
Clean sheets and blankets and pillow-slips an' a',
A little baby on her knee and that's the best of a'.

Yet another opened in this fashion

Green gravel, green gravel, the grass is so green;
She's the fairest young damsel that ever was seen.
Choose you Eastchoose you West
Choose the pretty one that you love best.

Our "London Toon" ran as follows

I'll gie ye a preen to stick in your thoom
To cairry a lady to London toon;
London toon's a braw, braw place,
A' covered ower wi' gold and lace.
Hotch her up, hotch her doon,
Hotch her into London toon.

We had variants of "Ring-a-Rosy," "Jenny Jo," "Here's two Nobles come from
Spain," "The Poor Widow from Babylon," "Water Wallflower," and many other
well-known games. The following version of "London Bridge" struck me as
being very quaint

London Bridge is falling down,
Dan's sister and Lady Ann.
London Bridge is falling down,
With a See, Si, So.

We'll build it up wi' penny buns, etc.

The penny buns would be a' eaten up, etc.

We'll build it up wi' silver and gold, etc.

The silver and gold would be stolen awa', etc.

We'll get a wee man to watch it at nicht, etc.

But if the wee man should fa' asleep? etc.

We'd get a wee dog to bark at his lug, etc.

In addition to rhymes for games, there were others for special occasions.
Thus, when we perpetrated a first of April joke, we jeered the victim by
exclaiming

Hunt-a-gowk, Aprile,
Send the gowk anither mile.

On All-Hallow Evewe used to troll out lustily

Hallowe'en, a uicht at e'en,
A can'le and a custock,
Doon Dons has got a wean,
They Ca' it Bessie Aitken.
Some ca't a kittlin,
Some ca't a cat,
Some ca't a wee wean
Wi' a straw hat.
It gaed to its grannie's
To seek a wee bit breid;
The grannie took the ladle
And brak it owre its heid.
"O," says the mither o't,
"My wean's deid."
"O," says the faither o't,
"Never you heed;
Gang oot by the back door,
In by the tither,
Through amang the green-kail,
You'll sune get anither."

At early morn on the last day of the year, bands of us would parade the
village, singing

Get up, auld wife, and shake your feathers,
Dinna think that we are beggars;
We are balms come out to play,
Rise up and gie's oor Hogmanay.

The question of who wrote these multifarious rhymes is wrapped in a mystery
as profound as the problem of who composes the mottoes for crackers. Some of
them, in which we find assonance instead of rhyme, bear the stamp of
antiquity; some of them may have been composed by children; but many of them
show evidence of having been written by "children of a larger growth."
Whatever their origin may have been, they remain a testimony to the aptitude
of the Scottish people for rhythmical expression, and they constitute a body
of literature that is as interesting as it is curious.

J. LIDDELL KELLY.

WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND.

Sandy
http://scotstext.org/

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