OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Bony Jean of Aberdeen (1815, Falkirk)/Bonny Jean of Aberdeen

BONNY JEAN OF ABERDEEN.
# The roving batchelor

The Roving
Batchelor.
To which is added,
Rattlin' Roarin' Willie,
THE
Pleasures of Wooing,
AND
Bess the Gawkie.
FALKIRK:
Printed & Sold by T. Johnston,
1816.
* The Roving Bachelor
* Rattlin' Roarin' Willie
* The Pleasures of Wooing
* Bess the Gawkie
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Bess the gawkie

Dated from period of activity of publisher and external evidence.
BESS the GAWKIE.
To which are added,
PEGGY IRVINE,
The LEGACY,
AND
GUDE NEWS.
EDINBURGH:
Printed by J, Morren, Cowgate.
* Bess the Gawkie
* Peggy Irvine
* The Legacy
* Gude News
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Bess the gawkie/Peggy Irvine

PEGGY IRVINE.
OUR Lady stands in her chamber door, viewing the Grahams are a coming, She knew by the light of their livery so red, they were new come down from London.
She called on her chambermaid, and Jeany her gentle woman: You'll dress my body in some fine dress, for you is my good Lord a coming.
Her smock was of the Holland so fine, her body round with busting. Her shoes were of the small corded twine, and her stockings silk and twisting.
Her petticoats was of the silk to fine. set out out with the silver and scalloping, Her gown was of the red damask silk so fine, trimmed with the red gold mounting.
You guildery maids, come trim up gauze and make them silver shining; With strawberry flowers cover all my bowers, and hang them round with the linen.
​⟨The⟩ minstrels all be on our call, when you see his horses coming; (illegible text)s music spring spare not your string, when your hear his bridles ringing.
⟨He⟩ call'd on Mag her chamber maid, and Jeanny her gentle comas, ⟨To⟩ bring me a bottle of the good Spanish wine, for to drink his health that's coming.
⟨She⟩ gently tripped down the stair, and away to the gate to meet him: ⟨You⟩ are welcome, you lord of the Boyne, you are welcome home from London.
⟨If⟩ this be so, come let me know, come kiss me for my coming; ⟨Yet⟩ tomorrow should have been my wedding day, If I had staid in London.
⟨She⟩ gave the glass out of her hand, She was a woeful woman, ⟨The⟩ morrow should be your wedding day, go back to your whores in London.
⟨He⟩ looked o'er his right shoulder, his comely court behind him, ⟨This⟩ is is a merry welcome, he says, that we have got from London.
​To your horse, to your horse my nobles all, to your horse, let us be going, This night we'll lodge in Drummond castle, and to-morrow we'll march to London.
New this Lady has fallen sick, and doctors we her dealing But at length her heart did break, and letters sent to London.
He took the letter in his hand, and loud, loud was he laughing, But before he read it to an end, the tears did come down rapping.
To your horse, to your horse my nobles all, to your hors, let's be going; To your horse let us all go in black and mourn for Peggy Irvine.
When he came to his own castle gate, the Knight was weary weeping Cheer up your heart you lord of the Boyne, your lady is but sleeping.
Sleeping deary, sleeping dow, I'm afraid she s o'er sound sleeping; Its I had rather lost all the land, of the Boyne, Before I would have lost Peggy Irvine.
# Bess the gawkie/Gude news

GUDE NEWS.
THERE's news, lasses, news, Gude news I have to tell. There's a boat fu' o' lads Come to our town to sell. The wean wants a cradle, And the cradle wants a cod, ⟨And⟩ I'll no gang to my bed Until I get a nod.
Father, quo she, mither, quo' she, Do what ye can, I'll now gang to my bed Till I get a man. The wean, &c. I hae as gude a craft rig, ⟨As made⟩ o yird and stane; As ⟨really⟩ fa' the ⟨leo⟩ crap, For I maun ull'd again. The wean, &c.
FINIS.
# Bess the gawkie, or, Jamie slighted (1802)/The woman's praise of tea, with the man's answer

The WOMAN'S PRAISE of TEA
Some men do rail against tea, and say that it makes butter dear, But let them say all that they will, it's cheaper than brandy or beer.
They say they make butter with curd, when the wives do the best they can; Who is it can blame a good woman, for doing the best for a man.
By the help of a man we were made, and over us they were to rule; The man that denies his wife tea, has got no more wit than a fool.
There's a penny for a quartern of tea, a penny for sugar’s the price, ​What man will deny his wife tea, as two pence will breakfast her twice.
When the best of the tea it is over, there's a dish for the children or maid, It is cheaper than milk; or small beer, when to such fine ⟨ale⟩ it is made.
My husband he goes to an ale-house, and soon drinks two quarts of strong beer, With a pipe to his mouth like a lord, says His wife has no buisness there.
He talks of the news of the nation, carouses with merry good cheer: Denies his wife tea which is cheaper, than either good brandy or beer.
Tea and snuff is always my comfort, and’s been all ths days of my life, The man that denies his wife tea, I wish him a sad drunken wife
There is some low-lif'd husbands says, He must buy butter and bread, But the women will have their tea, when butter-milk husbands are dead.
THE ANSWER.
Now Bet I have heard thy petitions, your praise in extolling of tea, And if that you give no more reasons, thou's ne'er get a verdict from me.
​It's said, that tea makes butter dear, but certainly that is not true For as that you state your expenses, there's none of it eaten by you.
You count but for sugar and tea, then where is the butter and bread, I judge you take something before it, or there is no teeth in your head!
Or dost thou like fish live on water? the costliest living I call; On gin, rum, or good hot brandy, I judge thou’rt a tipler of all.
Then says that thy husband loves beer, tobacco, and nappy brown ale; When thou lives on nothing but tea, and that of a penny each meal.
O happy’s the man that hath got thee, if thou earns but fourpence a day, Then sixpence a week I’ll allow thee, to clothe thee in comely array.
As thou lives on nought but sweet water, to be sure a sweet wife thou must be, But if ever I wed for the better, it’s ne’er be a lover of tea.
As at it they learn the poor fashion, cups reading, to clash and to lie, And tell how Jack our of passion, he never gives comfort to me.
​But turns his cold bum to my belly, and there he lies snoring all night, He surely loves some other madam, or else I would have more delight.
I am kiss'd only twice in the week, and that’s a poor pitiful thing: And oh! to be married again, for I love all things in the spring.
# Bess the gawkie, or, Jamie slighted (1802)/The thirsty lover

THE THIRSTY LOVER.
Drink to me only with thine, and I'll pledge thee with mine, Or leave a kiss but in the cup, and I'll not look for wine.
The thirst which in my soul doth rise, does ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove’s Nectar sip, I wou’d not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath, not so much honouring thee; And giving it a hope that there, it could not wither’d be.
But thou therein did only breathe, and sent it back to me; Since when, it looks and smells, I swear, not of itself but thee.
Printed by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1802.
# Bess the gawkie, or, Jamie slighted (1802)/The broom of Cowden Knows

The BROOM of COWDEN KNOWS.
O The broom the bonny bonny broom, the broom of the Cowden Knows, I wish I were with my dear swain, milking my daddy's ewes.
How blythe ilk morn was I to see, my swain come o'er the hill, He leapt the burn and flew to me, I met him with good will
He tuu'd his pipe and reed sae sweet, the birds stood list'ning by, Ev'n the dull cattle stood amaz'd, charm'd with his melody.
I neither wanted ewe nor lamb, while his flock near me lay, He gather'd in my sheep at e'en, and cheer’d me all the day.
He did oblige me every hour, could I but thankful be! He stole my heart, who could refuse, whate'er he ask'd of me.
​While thus we spent our time by turns, betwixt our flocks and play, I envy'd not the fairest dame though ne'er so rich and gay.
Hard fate that I should banish'd be, gang heavily and mourn, because I love the kindest swain, that ever yet was born.
Adieu! ye Cowden Knows, adieu! farewel all pleasures there; Ye gods, restore to me my swain, is all I crave or care.
# Bess the gawkie, or, Jamie slighted (1802)/Bess the gawkie, or Jamie slighted

BESS THE GAWKIE.
Blythe young Jean to Bess did say, Will ye gang to you sunny brae, Where flocks do feed and herds do stray, And sport a while wi' Jamie.
Ah na, lass. I'll no gang there, Nor about Jamie tak nae care, Nor about Jamie tak nae care, For he's ta’en up wi'Maggie.
For hark, and I will tell you lass, Did I not see young Jamie pass, Wi' muckle blythness in his face, Out o’er the muir wi’ Maggie.
I wat he gae her mony a kiss, And Maggie took them ne’er amiss, 'Tween ilka smack pleas’d her wi' this, Ihat Bess was but a Gawkie.
For whene’er a civil kiss I seek, She turns her head and thraws her cheek, And for an hour she’ll scarcely speak, Who'd not ca’ her a Gawkie?
But sure my Maggie has mak sense, she’ll gie a score without offence
Now gie me ane unto the mense, And ye shall be my Dawtie.
​O Jamie ye hae mony te’en, But I will ne'er stand up for ane, Or twa, till we do meet again, Sae ne'er think me a Gawkie.
Ah! na lass, that canna be. Sic thoughts as these are far frae me, Or ony thy sweet face that see, E’er to think thee a Gawkie.
But whisht, nae mair of this we'll speak, For yonder Jamie does us meet; Instead of Meg he kiss'd sae sweet, I true he likes the Gawkie.
O dear Bess, I hardly knew, When I came, your gown’s sae new, I think you've got it wet wi’ dew; Quoth Bess, that’s like a Gawkie.
It’s wet wi’ dew and ’twill get rain, And I'll get gowns when this is gane, Sae ye may gang the gat ye came, And tell it to your Dawtie.
The guilt appear’d in Jamie’s cheek, He cry'd, o cruel maid, but sweet, If I should gang anither gate, I ne'er could meet my Dawtie.
The lasses fast frae him they flew, And left poor Jamie fair to rue, That ever Maggie’s face he knew, Or yet ca'd Bess a Gawkie.
​As they went o'er moor they sang, The hills and dales with echoes rang, The hills and dales with echoes rang. Gang o'er the mair to Maggie.
# Bess the gawkie/Bess the gawkie

BESS the Gawkie.
BLYTHE young Bess to Jean did say, Will ye gang to yon sunny brae, Where flocks do feed, and herds do stray, And sport a while wi' Jamie? Ah, na, I'll no gang there, Not about Jamie tak a care, Nor about Jamie tak a care, For he's taen up wi' Maggie.
For hark, and I will tell you, lass, Did I not hear young Jamie pass, Wi' muckle blytheness in his face, Out owre the muir to Maggie: I wa' he gae her mony a kiss, And Maggie took them nae amiss; 'Tween ilka smack pleased her wi' this, "That Bess was but a gawkie."
"For when a civil kiss I seek, "She turns her head & thraws her cheek, "And for an hour she'll hardly speak: Wha'd no ca' her a gawkie? "Be sure my Maggie has mair sense, "She'll give a score with an offence; "Now gie me ane into the mense, "and ye shall be my dawtie."
​O Jamie, ye hae mony ⟨ta'en⟩, But I will never stand for ane. Or twa when we do meet again, "So never think me a gawkie." Ah, na lass, that canna be; Sic thoughts as these are far frae me, Or ony thy sweet face that see, "E'er to think thee a gawkie."
⟨But⟩, whisht! nae mair o' this we'll speak, ⟨For⟩ yonder Jamie does us meet; ⟨Instead⟩ o' Meg he kiss'd sae sweet, I trow, he likes the gawkie. ⟨O⟩ dear Bess, I hardly knew, When I came by your gown sae new; I think ye've got it wet wi' dew." Quoth she, "That's like a gawkie.
It's wet wi' dew: and 'twill get rain, And ⟨I'll⟩ get gowns when it is gane; Sae ye may gang the gate ye came, "And tell it to your dawtie." ⟨The⟩ guilt appear'd in Jamie's cheek; ⟨He⟩ cry'd, "O cruel maid, but sweet, If I shoul gang neither gate, "I ne'er could meet my dawtie."
⟨The⟩ lasses fast frae him they flew, ⟨And⟩ left poor Jamie sair to rue ⟨That⟩ ever Maggie s face he knew, Or yet ca'd Bess a gawkie. ​As they gade owre the muir they sang, The hills and dales with echo rung, The hills and dales with echo rung, 'Gang o'er the muir to Maggie.'
# Bony Jean of Aberdeen (1815, Falkirk)/Bess is but a Gawkie

BESS IS BUT A GAWKIE.
# Bess the Gawkie

* "The Gawkie", in Captain Ward and the Rain-Bow (n.d.), a chapbook with no printing information
* "Bess the gawkie", in Bess the gawkie (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Bess the gawkie, or Jamie slighted", in Bess the gawkie, or, Jamie slighted (1802), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "Bess is but a Gawkie", in Bony Jean of Aberdeen (1815), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Bess the Gawkie", in The roving batchelor (1816), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Bess the Gawkie", in Bess the Gawkie (1828), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "Bess the Gawkie", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# Bess the Gawkie (1828)

Bess the Gawkie.
TO WHICH ARE ADDED,
Again the Wish'd for Festive Hour,
I'M WEEL SAIR'D WI' SPUNK.
Cherry-Cheek Patty,
Captain Wattle and Miss Roe,
DEAR IS MY NATIVE VALE.
GLASGOW; Printed for the Booksellers. ——— 1828.
* Bess the Gawkie
* Again the wish'd for festive hour
* I'm weel sair'd wi' spunk
* Cherry-cheek Patty
* Captain Wattle and Miss Roe
* Dear is my native vale
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Bess the Gawkie (1828)/Bess the Gawkie

BESS THE GAWKIE.
Blythe young Bess to Jean did say, Will ye gang to yon sunny brae, Where flocks do feed, and herds do stray, And sport a while wi' Jamie? Ah, na! lass, I'll no gang there, Not about Jamie tak a care, Nor about Jamie tak a care, For he's ta'en up wi' Maggie,
For hark, and I will tell you, lass, Did I not see young Jamie pass, Wi' meikle blytheness in his face, Out o'er the muir to Maggie: I wat he gae her mony a kiss, And Maggie took them nae amiss; 'Tween ilka smack pleas'd her wi' this-- That Bess was but a gawkie.
For when a civil kiss I seek, She turns her head, and thraws her cheek, And for an hour she'll hardly speak; Wha'd no ca' her a gawkie? But sure my Maggie has mair sense, She'll give a score with an offence; Now gie me ane into the mense, And ye shall be my dawtie.
O Jamie, ye hae mony ta'en,
But I will never stand for ane, ​Or twa when we do meet again, So ne'er think me a gawkie. Ah, na! lass, that canna be, Sic thoughts as these are far from me, Or ony that sweet face that see, E'er to think thee a gawkie.
But, whisht! nae mair o' this we'll speak, For yonder Jamie does us meet; Instead of Meg he kiss'd sae sweet, I trow, he likes the gawkie. O dear Bess, I hardly knew, When I came by, your gown sae new; I think you've got it wet wi' dew: Quoth she, that's like a gawkie.
It's wet wi' dew: and 'twill get rain, And I'll get gowns when it is gane; Sae ye may gang the gate ye came, And tell it to your dawtie. The guilt appear'd in Jamie's cheek; He cried, O cruel maid, but sweet, If I should gang another gate, I ne'er should see my dawtie.
The lasses fast frae him they flew, And left poor Jamie sair to rue, That ever Maggie's face he knew, Or e'er ca'd Bess a gawkie. As they gade o'er the muir they sang, The hills and dales with echo rung, The hills and dales with echo rung, "Gang o'er the muir to Maggie.
# Bess the Gawkie (1828)/Again the wish'd for festive hour

AGAIN THE WISH'D-FOR FESTIVE HOUR.
Again the wish'd-for festive hour, Revolving time returns; Again our tribute out we pour, Unto the name of Burns. Then as we quaff the cheering gloes, In bumpers flowing high, His deathless fame let us proclaim, And drain the goblet dry.
Each manly virtue which alone, The human breast adorns, Combin'd with beaming lustre shone, Within the breast of Burns. Then as we quaff, &c.
The man to bend at Fortune's shrine, For Fortune's favour scorns, While Independence rules his mind, A brother had in Burns. Then as we quaff, &c.
To act the selfish hireling's end, His free-born bosom spurn'd; The patriot true, his country's friend, Reveres the name of Burns. Then as we quaff, &c.
And he, who with a heart sincere, A brother's sorrow mourns, Will drop a sympathetic tear, Upon the grave of Burns. Then let us quaff, &c.
​So while auld Nature's laws prevail, The earth on her axis turns, May Scotiá's sons with rapture hail, The natal day of Burrs. Then let us quaff, &c.
# Bess the Gawkie (1828)/I'm weel sair'd wi' spunk

I'M WEEL SAIR'D WI' SPUNK.
I'm weel sair'd wi' spunk, and I'm braid, and I'm brawny, I'll dare the warst blagt that roars over yon law, And I hope to see gray hairs to set me down canny,
And crack o'er my summer, and winter, and a'. Leeze me on eild! it's sae canty and hearty, To see the auld cairls wi' bonnets sae gran'; How they'll joke wi' the daftest, and laugh wi' the loudest, While the fire lights their eyes, like a flash in the pan.
There's Mungo M'Farlane, the laird o' Drumgarlin, A birsy auld hero o' fourscore and five, But he'll wield his lang arm, and he'll knock down his story, And keep his ain grun' wi' the gleggest alive. There's Michael the sodger, wha fought wi' the rebels And lost his best leg just a wee or they ran: But he has ane o' wud, and he gars it play thud, And whare there's a stour Michael's aye in the van.
There's auld Davie Currie, and Laurie his cousin, They have seen better days, and had siller and lear; But they're aff-hand and jolly, and wisdom and honour, Fu' nobly are trac'd on their foreheads sae bare. ​Here's t'ye M'Farlane! here's t'ye mt heroes, The wale o' the kintra weel wardie a. can; Ye're the relics and proofs o' our au'd Scottish nation; O! the crony o' cronies, a cracky auld man;
# Bess the Gawkie (1828)/Cherry-cheek Patty

CHERRY-CHEEK PATTY
Down in yon village I live so snug; They call me Giles the plowman's boys Throughwoods and o'er stiles, as I trudge many miles, I whistle, I whistle, and whoop, gee woo, Jerry. My work being done to the lawn there I fly, Where the lads at the lasses all look very sly; And I'ze deeply in love with a girl it is true, And I know what I know, but I mauna tell you: But I'll whistle, I'll whistle, for of all the girls I ever did see,
O cherry cheek Patty for me.
Though the squire go great, so happy mayn't be, As poor simple Giles the plowman's boy; No matters of state ever addle my pate, But I'll whistle, I'll whistle and whoop gee woo, Jerry, Now cherry cheek Patty she lives in a vale, Whom I help d o'er the stile, with her milking pail, And Patty has a like notion of me it is true, And I know what I know, but I mauna tell you; But I'll whistle, &c.
I'se able and strong, and willing to work, And when the lark rises off trudges I; The cows up I call, and harness old Ball, I whistle, I whistle, and whoop, gee woo, Jerry. ​Then I'se fifty good shillings, my luck has been such, And a lad's not to be grinn'd at, that's gotten so much And when that I'm married to Patty, so true, I know what I know, but I mauna tell you. But I'll whistle, &c.
# Bess the Gawkie (1828)/Captain Wattle and Miss Roe

CAPTAIN WATTLE AND MISS ROE.
Did you ever hear of Captain Wattle, He was all for love and a little for the bottle, We know not, though pain we have ta'en to inquire, If gunpowder he invented, or the Thames set on fire, If to him was the centre of gravity known, The longitude, or the philosopher's stone, Or whether he studied from Bacon or Boyle. Copernicus, Locke, Katerfelto, or Hoyle; But this we have learnt with great labour and pain. That he lov'd Miss Roe, and she lov'd him again.
⟨Than⟩ sweet Miss Roe none e'er look'd fiercer; ⟨She⟩ had but one eye, but that was a piercer, We know not, for certainty her education, ⟨If⟩ she wrote, mended stockings, or settled the nation, ⟨At⟩ cards if she liked whist, and swabbers or voles, ⟨Or⟩ at dinner lov'd pig, or a steak on the coals, ⟨Whether⟩ most of the Sappho she was or Thalestris, ⟨Or⟩ if dancing was taught her by Hopkins, or Vestris, ⟨But⟩ for your satisfaction. this good news we obtain, ⟨That⟩ she lov'd Captain Wattie, and he lov'd her again.
⟨When⟩ wedded, he became lord and master depend on't ⟨He⟩ had but one leg, but he'd a foot at the end on't. ⟨Which⟩ of government when she would fain hold the bridle, ⟨He⟩ took special caution should never lie idle. ​So, like most married folks, 'twas my plague and my chicken, And sometimes a kissing, and sometimes a kicking: Then for comfort a cordial she'd now and then try, Alternately bunging or piping her eye; And these facts of this couple the hist'ry contain, For when he kick'd Miss Roe, she kick'd him again.
# Bess the Gawkie (1828)/Dear is my native vale

DEAR IS MY NATIVE VALE
Dear is my little native vale, The ring-dove builds and warbles there; Close by my cot she tells her tale, To ev'ry passing villager: The squirrel leaps from tree to tree, And shells his nuts at liberty.
In orange-groves, or myrtle bow'rs, That breath a gale of fragrance round I charm the fairy-footed hours, With my lov'd lute's romantic sound: Or crowns of living laurels weave, For those who win the race at eve.
The shepherd's horn at break of day, The ballet danc'd in twilight glade, The canzonet and roundelay, Sung in the silent green-wood shade: These simple joys that never fail, Shall bind me to my native vale,
FINIS.
# Benefit of Doubt

Extracted from Adventure magazine, 10 Dec 1922, pp. 3–71. Illustrations may be omitted. A Jimgrim, King, Ommony adventure story. Published in book form as Jungle Jest.
India—hill tribes rebel and Mahommed Babar pays his father’s debt.
Benefit of Doubt A Complete Novel by Talbot Mundy Author of “Khufu's Real Tomb,” “The Gray Mahatma,” etc.
* PAGE
* I. “All right. I'll remember.” 3
* II. “Twenty-five years later.” 6
* III. “I'll prove to you there's not much wrong with Mahommed Babar.” 9
* IV. “Fear and the heart of a fool are one!” 12
* V. Loyalty to whom—to what? 17
* VI. “Engage the enemy more closely.” 21
* VII. “I am the high court judge.” 25
* VIII. “The benefit of the doubt?” 32
* IX. “I will lead!” 34
* X. “Hostages.” 40
* XI. “Yours truly, John Linkinyear.” 45
* XII. “Mahommed Babar wants a cavalry saber.” 50
* XIII. “Tonight I will write down how ye did.” 53
* XIV. “But they stole no Hindu Women!” 56
* XV. “That kind of talk is always true.” 60
* XVI. “Tomorrow a big victory.” 64
* XVII. “I am a rebel.” 66
“Benefit of Doubt,” copyright, 1922, by Talbot Mundy.
    Copyright, 1922, by The Ridgway Company in the United States and Great Britain. All rights reserved.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1940, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 83 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse