UNDERWOOD WEAVING MILL SOIREE, 1901
Last Friday night, in the Templar Hall,
At the Underwood Mill soiree and ball,
In the best o’ trim, on pleasure bent,
Tae enjoy masel’ I thither went.
After praise and prayer, we got oor tea,
An’ ilka lass was blithe and free;
’Mang merry smiles and cheerie jokes
We soon began tae toom oor pocks.
But I must noo begin and tell,
Tho’ as quate’s a moose I kept masel’,
A sweet cam’ swiftly spinning doon,
An’ feth it nearly crack’d ma croon;
But never mind, ’twas soon a’ richt,
And I joined the fun wi’ a’ ma micht;
The cunning wretch I tried tae reach,
The chairman then began his speech;
But deuce the word o’t I could hear,
Tho’ fine I heard the lasses cheer;
An’ tho’ at times they were rather wild,
At A’ their fun the chairman smiled.
A blither nicht I ne’er hae seen
Sin’ I was a lad o’ seventeen.
But ah! Ma freen’s, it’s a’ ower noo;
May we meet again in Nineteen- Two
