Cuddle Doon
Author: Alexander Anderson
Date: 2012
Source: Ullans: The Magazine for Ulster-Scots, Nummer 12 Wunter 2011/12

Again, our thanks go to Mark Thompson for drawing this heartwarming wee poem to our attention. He writes: ‘This is one of three pieces which were posted to us by Mary E Speers of Cullybackey after we (Mark’s gospel group) played at the Faith Mission Centre in Ballymena in March 2005. It was handwritten, with a few definitions added in the margins here and there. No date or author known.’
Our resident ‘oracle’, USLS Honorary Vice-President, Philip Robinson, responded: ‘The author was Alexander Anderson of Crocketford (near Stranraer). His nom-de-plume was “The Surfaceman”. His entire poems are on the web, including “Bairnies Cuddle Doon Again”.’ The term ‘surfaceman’ is used in more than one context, but in this case it meant someone who worked on the railways at keeping the track in a good state of repair.
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht
Wi muckle faucht and din [faucht/fecht — fight]
“Oh try an sleep ye waukrife rogues
Your faither’s coinin’ in”
They never heed a word I speak
I try to gie a froon
But aye I hap them up an say
“Oh bairnies, cuddle doon.”
Wee Jamie wi’ the curly heid
He aye sleeps nixt the wa’
Bangs up an cries “I want a piece” [bang — rise hastily]
The rascal starts them a’
I rin an’ fetch them pieces, drinks
They stap awee the soun’ [awee — a little while]
They dra’ the blankets up an’ cry
“Noo bairnies, cuddle doon.”
But ere five minutes gang, wee Rab
Cries oot frae ’neath the claes
“Mither, mak Tam gie ower at ance
He’s kittlin’ wi his taes [kittlin — tickling]
The mischief’s in that Tam for tricks
He’d bother half the toon
But aye I hap them up an cry
“Oh bairnies, cuddle doon.”
At length they hear their faither’s fit
An as he shuts the dure
They turn their faces to the wa’
While Tam pretends to snure
“Hae a the weans been gude” he asks
As he pits aff his shoon
The bairnies, John are in their beds,
An lang since cuddled doon.”
An just afore we bed oorsels
We look at oor wee lambs
Tam has his airm roun wee Rab’s neck
An Rab his airm roun Tam’s
I lift wee Jamie up the bed
An as I straik each croon [straik — stroke]
I whusper till my heart fills up
“Oh bairnies, cuddle doon.”
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht
Wi’ mirth that’s dear to me
But sure the big warl’s cark and care [cark — anxiety]
Wul quaten doon their glee
Yet come what will to ilka ane [ilka — every]
May He who sits aboon
Aye whusper through their pows be bault [pows — heads/scalps bault — bald]
“Oh bairnies, cuddle doon.”