The Adullamites at Connor

Noo, Dickey, up an’ gies a bla’

An’ no’ let Tammy rin awa’,

An’ mak tha pace;

The mair his backers hae sum’ “spunk,”

Nae doot ye’ll pit them in a “funk,”

An’ win the race.

At Connor, Tammy haes set aff

Wi’ sum’ big-wigs an’ sum’ riff-raff

Tae pu’ him throo;

Bit Connor voters didna’ ken

The man, ‘am nae bit feart they’ll sen’

Tae whaur he grew.

Tam got stoot Hanna tae preside,

An’ bate his covers far an’ wide

For ower a week;

Boul’ Frank wuz there, an’ “Haw-haw Gaut,”

Bit, bliss ye, he’s no’ worth his saut —

He canna speak.

“Fegs, Frank, ye ir’ a diver cheil;

Cum’, tell the truth an’ shame the deil

It’s only fair:

Auld Clootie haes been lang yer frien’,

Tak’ an advice an’ dinna’ screen

Him ony mair.”

“Dod, man, wuz yon no’ rether thick,

Tae speak sae hard o’ Fisherwick,

An’ he no’ near;

‘A slippery gentleman,’ ye said,

An Wull an’ Jamie braw’ly led

A feckless cheer.”

“An’ then ye sneer’t at Hanna tae,

Becas’ yer meetin’ didna’ dae

Jest up tae Dick;

It wuz a trifle het nae doot,

When Connor laddies fan’ ye oot,

An’ sa’ yer trick.”

Frank’s a guid spoke in Tammy’s wheel,

He boss’t the show an’ spauk g’y weel

Oot o’ his fancy

Bit tho’ he’s gran’ at throwin’ glour,

The pletform wudna been tha waur

O’ Tammy’s “Nancy.”

The “Earl o’ Brookfield” tae wuz up

Tae stir the wee storm in the cup

O’ Jamie’s brewin’,

He haes the voters a’ bespoke

Tae help him tae “protect his poke,”

When he gangs plewin’.

Anither man, an “importation”

Cudna’ resist the strong temptation

Tae tell nae lee

“Dixon,” he said, “wu hear their plea,

An’ ‘ratify’ their wrangs whun he

Wud be C.C.”

Then turn-coat Hoy wi’ his “Jaw Pee”

Broght oot again the graveyaird lee,

An’ slung it roun’;

In sooth, that lyin’ “graveyaird” biz,

Tae Dixon’s “bummin”’ backers wuz

A muckle boon.

Sae, Frank, an’ a’ Gaut’s ither toys,

Th’ electors ken yer no’ the boys

For them tae follow;

E’en Connor spurns yer “Tammy Wain,”

An’ sen’s ye snarlin’ tae yer ain

Wee Sleepy-Hollow.

Tae a’ electors a’ wud say

Ye want on questions o’ the day,

A man that’s soun’,

For Dickey vote, an’ sae sen’ back

The man ye a’ think’s no the whack

Tae yon big toun.