My First Bawbee
O! nane, I trew, on a’ the yirth
Was happier than me,
When in my wee breek pouch I gat
My first bawbee.
I turned it roun’ and roun’ wi’ pride,
Syne toddled aff wi’ glee,
To wair, on something that was guid,
My first bawbee.
I met auld grannie at the ‘door,
Quo’ she, “Noo, Rab, tak’ care,
Nae feckless whigmaleeries buy
When ye gang to the fair;
A gaucie row or sonsie scone
Is best for ane that’s wee –
Mind, muckle lies in how ye spen’
Your first bawbee.”
But grannie’s words were soon forgot
When to the fair I gaed,
And saw sae mony ferlies there
On ilka staun arrayed.
I glower’d at this, I glower’d at that,
Wi’ roving, greedy e’e,
And felt dumfounder’t how to wair
My first bawbee.
Here apples lay in mony a creel,
A’ tempting to the view;
And plums and pears whase vera leuk
Brocht water tae my mou’;
And there were tosh wee picture beuks,
Spread oot a’ fair to see-
They seemed to say “come here and spen’
Your first bawbee.”
I kent the ane wad gust the gab,
The ither tell me how
Cock Robin fell that waefu’ day
The Sparrow drew his bow;
But baith, waesucks! I couldna get;
And sae wi’ teerfu’ e’e
I swithered lang on whilk to wair
My first bawbee.
At length a wheedlin’ Eerish loon
Began to bawl and brag:
“Come now,” said he, “my little lad,
And thry the Lucky Bag;
If you have but one copper got,
For it you may get three-
Shure, never venture, never win,
Come, sport your bawbee.”
Thinks I, this is the vera thing,
I’ll mak’ my bawbee twa,
And syne I’ll get the plums or pears,
The wee bit beuk and a’:
Sae at the bag I tried my luck,
But hope was dung agee –
A blank was mine, and sae I lost
My first bawbee.
A tear cam’ happin’ owre my cheek
As sad I daunert hame,
Wi’ hunger rumblin’ up and doun,
Like win’ within my wame.
I tellt auld grannie a’ my tale-
“Ye’ve gane far wrang,” quo’ she,
“But muckle guid may yet come out
Your lost bawbee.”
And true she spak’; my loss was gain –
It lair’d me usefu’ lair
It made me aft, sinsyne, tak’ tent
O’ mony a gilded snare.
And still when loons, to catch the plack,
Their fleechin’ phrases gie,
A something whispers, “Robin, mind
Your first bawbee.”
