BARTHRAM'S DIRGE.

THIS ballad was communicated to Sir Walter Scott by Mr Surtees, who had taken it down from recitation, supplying some deficient lines from conjecture. Although it may have better claim to be considered a Northumbrian than a Scottish ditty, I have given it a place in this collection; more especially as it has been well set to music, and is now very popular in the North.

HEY shot him dead on the Nine-stane Rig,

THEY

Beside the Headless Cross;

And they left him lying in his blood,

Upon the muir and moss.

They made a bier of the broken bough,
The saugh and the aspen gray;
And they bore him to the Lady Chapel,
And waked him there all day.

A lady came to that lonely bower,
And threw her robes aside,

She tore her long yellow hair,

And knelt at Barthram's side.

She bathed him in the Lady-well,
His wounds sae deep and sair;

And she plaited a garland for his breast,
And a garland for his hair.

They rowed him in a lily sheet,

And bare him to his earth,

And the grey-friars sang the dead man's mass,
As they passed the Chapel-Garth.

They buried him at the mirk midnight,

When the dew fell cold and still, When the aspen gray forgot to play, And the mist clung to the hill.

They dug his grave but a bare foot deep,
By the edge of the Nine-stane burn,

And they covered him o'er with the heather-flower,
The moss and the lady-fern.

A grey-friar staid upon the grave,

And sang till morning tide;

And a friar shall sing for Barthram's soul,

While the Headless Cross shall bide.

MISTRESS MOUSE.

As ballads are for young and old, I give, from Mr Sharpe's Ballad-book, a genuine ancient nursery ditty. It is the original version of "Froggie would a-wooing go," and I recognise it with pleasure, as the first specimen of popular minstrelsy that attracted my attention.

THERE lived a Puddy in a well,
And a merry Mouse in a mill.

Puddy he'd a-wooin' ride,

Sword and pistol by his side.

Puddy cam' to the Mouse's wonne ; "Mistress Mouse, are you within ?"

"Yes, kind Sir, I am within ;
Saftly do I sit and spin."

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"Madam, I am come to woo,
Marriage I must have of you."

"Marriage I will grant you nane,
Till uncle Rotten he come's hame."

Uncle Rotten he's come hame,

"Fye, gar busk the bride alang."

Lord Rotten sate at the head o' the table,
Because he was baith stout and able.

Wha is't that sits next the wa',
But lady Mouse, baith jimp and sma'?

Wha is't that sits next the bride,
But Puddy wi' his yellow side?

Syne cam' the dewke but and the drake,
The dewke took Puddy, and gar't him squake!

Then cam' in the gude grey cat,
Wi' a' her kitlens at her back.

The Puddy he swam doun the brook,
The drake he catch'd him in his fluke.

The cat she pu'd lord Rotten down,
The kitlens they did claw his crown.

But mistress Mouse, baith jimp and sma',
Crept into a hole beneath the wa';
"Squeak," quo' she, "I'm weel awa!"

GLENLOGIE.

THIS version of a very popular ballad was given by Mr Sharpe, and adopted by Mr Chambers. Another but inferior copy is inserted in the "Scottish Minstrel."

FOUR-A

OUR-AND-TWENTY nobles sits in the king's ha'; Bonnie Glenlogie is the flower amang them a'.

In cam' Lady Jean, skipping on the floor,

And she has chosen Glenlogie 'mang a' that was there.

She turned to his footman, and thus she did say : "Oh, what is his name, and where does he stay?"

"His name is Glenlogie, when he is from home, He is of the gay Gordons; his name it is John."

"Glenlogie, Glenlogie, an you will prove kind, My love is laid on you: I am telling my mind."

He turned about lightly, as the Gordons does a' : "I thank you, Lady Jean; my love's promised awa."

She called on her maidens, her bed for to make;
Her rings and her jewels all from her to take.