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three skips on the floor: 'Goodman, you've spoken the foremost word, Get up and bar the door.' [Annotations: 3.1: 'hussyfskep' = housewife's skep, a straw basket for meal. 6.4: 'For,' _i.e._ to prevent: cp. _Child Waters_, 28.6 (First Series, p. 41). 9.3: 'what ails ye,' etc. = why not use the pudding-broth. 10.4: 'sca'd,' scald.] END OF THE SECOND SERIES [Blank Page] APPENDIX THE GREAT SILKIE OF SULE SKERRIE (p. 63) Since the version given in the text was in type, my friend Mr. A. Francis Steuart of Edinburgh has kindly pointed out to me the following fuller and better variant of the ballad, which was unknown to Professor Child. It may be found in R. Menzies Fergusson's _Rambling Sketches in the Far North and Orcadian Musings_ (1883), pp. 140-141, whence I have copied it, only adding the numbers to the stanzas. THE GREY SELCHIE OF SHOOL SKERRY 1. In Norway lands there lived a maid, 'Hush, ba, loo lillie,' this maid began; 'I know not where my baby's father is, Whether by land or sea does he travel in.' 2. It happened on a certain day, When this fair lady fell fast asleep, That in cam' a good grey selchie, And set him doon at her bed feet, 3. Saying, 'Awak', awak', my pretty fair maid. For oh! how sound as thou dost sleep! An' I'll tell thee where thy baby's father is; He's sittin' close at thy bed feet.' 4. 'I pray, come tell to me thy name, Oh! tell me where does thy dwelling be?' 'My name it is good Hein Mailer, An' I earn my livin' oot o' the sea. 5. 'I am a man upon the land; I am a selchie in the sea; An' whin I'm far frae every strand, My dwellin' is in Shool Skerrie.' 6. 'Alas! alas! this woeful fate! This weary fate that's been laid for me! That a man should come frae the Wast o' Hoy, To the Norway lands to have a bairn wi' me.' 7. 'My dear, I'll wed thee with a ring, With a ring, my dear, I'll wed wi' thee.' 'Thoo may go wed thee weddens wi' whom thoo wilt; For I'm sure thoo'll never wed none wi' me.' 8. 'Thoo will nurse my little wee son For seven long years upo' thy knee, An' at the end o' seven long years I'll come back an' pay the norish fee.' 9. She's nursed her little wee son For seven long years upo' her knee, An' at the end o' seven long years He cam' back wi' gol
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