Awd Humpy-back'd Dick, and two or three mair,
Fra Shiney Raw pit to the Well did repair;
He drank of the Spaw, when the hump, in a crack,
Dissolv'd and soon vanish'd frae poor Dicky's back!
Lord bliss us! cried timber-toed tee-total Peg,
If it banishes humps, it might bring forth a leg!
She got to the Well, with the Spaw she made free,
And very soon after poor Peggy had three!!!
Hurrah for Newcassel! &c.
Pure sanctified Betty scarce knew what to think—
Hard might be her fate if she ventur'd to drink—
For most of the lasses that live in Lang Raw,
Have getten the dropsy by tasting the Spaw!
The doctors declare, that at forty weeks' end,
'Twill be in their arms, and the dropsy will mend;
The howdies are wishing the time was well o'er,
For surely such water was ne'er known before.
Hurrah for Newcassel! &c.
A bumper, cried Cuddy, and toasted the Queen,—
Which soon was responded by all on the green,—
May she have a son soon as big's Johnny Fa'—
(There's virtue in wishing while drinking the Spaw).
So now, my good lasses, gan hyem to your wark—
There's danger in wand'ring the Dean in the dark
'Mang trees and awd quarries—I'd have ye beware,
Remember poor Peggy was caught in the snare.
Hurrah for Newcassel! &c.
[51] Some years ago, a spring of water was observed to ooze from the bank at the foot of Sandyford Dean, to which some people attributed medicinal qualities; but it was not generally noticed till the spring of 1841, when its fame spread abroad, and drew the attention of multitudes of people to the spot, many of whom being afflicted with complaints of long standing, after drinking freely of this water, declared themselves cured; and some of the faculty proving its qualities by analyzation, gave it a more favourable report, which caused still greater numbers of invalids, &c. to visit the spring—some with casks and cans, others with jugs and bottles, anxiously waiting for a turn. Whether the benefits said to have been received from this water were real or imaginary, time, the test of all things, will assuredly prove.
THE SKIPPER'S FRIGHT.
Tune—"Skipper Carr and Marky Dunn."
As aw was gannen out yen neet,—
It happen'd in the dark, man,—
A chep cam up ga' me a freet,
'Twas little Skipper Clark, man:
His fyece was white as ony clout,
Says aw, what hae ye been about?
He gyep'd at me, and gav a shout,
O Dick, I've seen the Deil, man!
Awd Nick had twee great goggle eyes,
And horns upon his heed, man,
He had a gob,—aye, sic a size,
It flay'd me near to deed, man!
His eyes were like twee burning coals,
His mouth like one o' wor pit-holes,
His horns were like twee crooked poles,—
Aw'm sure it was the Deil, man!
Aw'd often heard wor preacher tell
That Awd Nick had twee club-feet,—
Thinks aw, aw'll ken the neet mysel',
Whether wor preacher's wrang or reet:
With that aw gav a luik about—
The club-feet was there without a doubt;
And just wi' that he gav a shout—
And aw'm sure it was the Deil, man.