On Jul 18, 2008, at 5:19 PM, Mike Geary wrote:
Mine _has_ to be that Scottish professor of the St. Patrick Society (was he) who would hold his ukelele and recite, "And a look in his eye seemed to say to the sky ..." complete with chorus!
All together now: Behold, I am a soldier bold, And only twenty-five years old; A braver warrior never was seen Fae Inverness tae Gretna Green. When I was young my father said He would 'prentice me a decent trade, But I dinna like that job at a', Sae I went and joined the Forty-Twa. Chorus: The wind may blaw, the cock may craw, The rain may rain and the snaw may snaw But ye winna frichten Jock MacGraw, The stoutest man in the Forty-Twa! The sergeant when he 'listed me, He winked his e'e and then says he, "A man like you sae stout and tall Can ne'er be killed by a cannon ball!" The captain then when he cam' 'roon, He looked me up and he looked me doon, And said, said he, "I'l1 tak' a guess --- Ye must be the beastie o' Loch Ness!"* Chorus: At oor last fecht across the sea The general, he sends efter me, Fan I gaed there and my big gun, 0' coorse, the battle it was won. The enemy a' ran awa', They were feart at the legs o' Jock NacGraw; A man like me sae tall and neat, Ye ken yersel' he could niver be beat. Chorus: The King then held a grand review, We numbered a thousand and sixty-two; The kiltie lads cam' marchin' past And Jock MacGraw cam' marchin' last. The royal party grabbed their sticks An' a' began tae stretch their necks. Cries the King tae the Colonel, "Upon my soul, I took that man for a telegraph pole!" Chorus: *[Var.:] Then turning tae the sergeant, "Why, ye champ, Ye've blasted the wheat-field oot on tramp!" David Ritchie, leading the round near Beaverton