JOHNIE OF BREADISLEE.

AN ANCIENT NITHISDALE BALLAD.

  Johnie rose up in a May morning,
   Called for water to wash his hands—­
  “Gar loose to me the gude graie dogs
   “That are bound wi’ iron bands,”

  When Johnie’s mother gat word o’ that,
   Her hands for dule she wrang—­
  “O Johnie! for my benison,
   “To the grenewood dinna gang!

  “Eneugh ye hae o’ the gude wheat bread,
   “And eneugh o’ the blude-red wine;
  “And, therefore, for nae venison, Johnie,
   “I pray ye, stir frae hame.”

  But Johnie’s busk’t up his gude bend bow,
   His arrows, ane by ane;
  And he has gane to Durrisdeer
   To hunt the dun deer down.

  As he came down by Merriemass,
   And in by the benty line,
  There has he espied a deer lying
   Aneath a bush of ling.[A]

  Johnie he shot, and the dun deer lap,
   And he wounded her on the side;
  But, atween the water and the brae,
   His hounds they laid her pride.

  And Johnie has bryttled[B] the deer sae weel,
   That he’s had out her liver and lungs;
  And wi’ these he has feasted his bludy hounds,
   As if they had been erl’s sons.

  They eat sae much o’ the venison,
   And drank sae much o’ the blude,
  That Johnie and a’ his bludy hounds
   Fell asleep, as they had been dead.

  And by there came a silly auld carle,
   An ill death mote he die! 
  For he’s awa to Hislinton,
   Where the Seven Foresters did lie.

  “What news, what news, ye gray-headed carle,
   “What news bring ye to me?”
  “I bring nae news,” said the gray-headed carle,
   “Save what these eves did see.

  “As I came down by Merriemass,
   “And down amang the scroggs,[C]
  “The bonniest childe that ever I saw
   “Lay sleeping amang his dogs.

  “The shirt that was upon his back
   “Was o’ the Holland fine;
  “The doublet which was over that
   “Was o’ the lincome twine.

  “The buttons that were on his sleeve
   “Were o’ the goud sae gude;
  “The gude graie hounds he lay amang,
   “Their months were dyed wi’ blude.”

  Then out and spak the First Forester,
   The held man ower them a’—­
  If this be Johnie o’ Breadislee,
   “Nae nearer will we draw.”

  But up and spak the Sixth Forester,
   (His sister’s son was he)
  “If this be Johnie o’ Breadislee,
   “We soon snall gar him die!”

  The first flight of arrows the Foresters shot,
   They wounded him on the knee;
  And out and spak the Seventh Forester,
   “The next will gar him die.”

  Johnie’s set his back against an aik,
     His fute against a stane;
    And he has slain the Seven Foresters,
     He has slam them a’ but ane.

    He has broke three ribs in that ane’s side,
     But and his collar bane;
    He’s laid him twa-fald ower his steed,
     Bade him cany the tidings hame.