The country-man's huy [sic] and cry against high heads and masked faces. Or, His sentiments of the vain apparel of the femal [sic] sex, which he told his wife, (and he might as well have told all the town hens.) To the tune of Gaberluingie man.

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Title
The country-man's huy [sic] and cry against high heads and masked faces. Or, His sentiments of the vain apparel of the femal [sic] sex, which he told his wife, (and he might as well have told all the town hens.) To the tune of Gaberluingie man.
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[Edinburgh? :: s.n.,
1700?]
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Subject terms
Ballads, Scots -- 17th century.
Broadsides -- Scotland -- 17th century.
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"The country-man's huy [sic] and cry against high heads and masked faces. Or, His sentiments of the vain apparel of the femal [sic] sex, which he told his wife, (and he might as well have told all the town hens.) To the tune of Gaberluingie man." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/B02425.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 7, 2024.

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THE COUNTRY-MAN'S HUY AND CRY, Against HIGH HEADS and MASKED FACES.

Or, his Sentiments of the vain Apparel of the Femal Sex, which He told to his Wife; (And He might as well have told all the town Hens.)

To the Tune of Gaberluingie Man.
TO Edinburgh Town when he did come once, At first blink he espyed some ones, Who high upon thein Snout did wear things, And at their Lugs he saw gold Ear-Rings; At which the Man was so amazed, He in their Faces star'd and gazed; All that they wore right well he notes, How they had Frienges at their Coats, All which He to his wife rehearses, And then He writes these following Verses.
AS I came up the Gate the streen, of gamphral Gackies I saw a whien, grofly guess for what they green, altho' I do not speak it. warrand Ye may ken my Meaning, And whats the thing wowld stanch their greening. Together they their Heads were leaning, and up together briked. Tull loud they clink their Iron Clappers, Their bra Tails babbed all with Tatters; And ilk one to another patters, wha Meg, where has thou been? 〈…〉〈…〉 was to another titling, They leugh as Ye had been them kitling, It may be some of them bare a Little-are I seen as light a Green. Some in their Luggs I think had Rings, They flightard all as they had Wings, Their Ribbands, Scarfs, and other Things, about them fast did flitter; out their Tails were many Frienges, And O, wow! what a Becks and Beinges, And ay their Tails the Casway cleinges when they trail through a Gutter. What means sik Tapies with syde Tails? That through the Dubbs, and Gutters trails, And ov'r the Myres and Middings sails, to gang with Shoulders bare? Yea, some do gang with musled Faces, And on their Heads the leave wear laces, With bonny walies on other Places, what Pox wad Ye have mair? The Fiends and their high Coble horn, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 guess for what they so adorn, 〈…〉〈…〉's e'en that they may get their Corn, fra some tight sturdy Fellow: Who'le trime their Bargains till a Mite, Him they will take great Delyte, tho' his Skin be not so white, but something colour'd yellow. vow these Gig lats are gane glacked, ••••at gangs so with their Shoulders naked, Fy! put them in an Hurly haked and huie them down to Lieth: Pake ye their Hurdies with a Rung, Upon their Rigging gar it bung, Gar ye them fast till they grow clung, they'l not need pike their Teeth. More Speech of Ladys I'le sorbear, For I'le get little Thanks I fear, VVhen this my Rhyme comes to their Ear, for what I've said already: Therefore to Servant-Lasses I My decent Speech will now apply, Their whole Deportment I'le survye, therefore adieu my Lady.
OUr Servanr Lasses in Borrowstouns, Pox hate the half of them's but Louns, Tho' on their Arss they get bra Gowns, and Pearling on their Heads: VVe cannot ken them by the Lady, Tho' both their Minnie and their Dadie For want of Food to starve be ready, they may not want their Beads. And Pearling as broad's both their Looves, Their Rings, their Glaickries, and their Gloves And dainty Pantons on their Hooves, with all their other Gear.
YOur Tapster Lasses are so vain, Our Country Lads they do disdain, She'll vow and swear she will him brain, if he but come her near. Shame fa that Pride that comes of nought, I'm sure that Gentries is dear bought, They have nothing but what they sought, and begg'd from Door to Door; Shame fa sik stincking sawcie Pride, The Deill himself cannot it 'bide, And is she not a bonie Bride a beggar and a whoore! Yea, when some of their Fathers comes, (with leave) they'll turn about their Bums And look on Him like stinking Rums, if He some Bodles begg From Gentlemen, where they do gather, She'll say, go hence Tyke in a Tedder; She'll not let wit that He's Her father, Tho' she's His Daughter Megg,
ANd Landwart Meggie the Bver that mucks Ye will not trow how well she looks, VVhen she comes out amongst the Foks, with all her goggles on; with Pearling bra call'd Mazarine, All hinging down between her Eene, She thinks the Lads will come be din, and follow Her a none. Her plaiding Coat as rud's a Rose, On her white Legs her dainty Hose, In Her black shoon full neat she goes, when she comes to the Casway. A dainty wastcoat on her Back, Her innen Apron as white as Chalk, Then with Her neighbours she can talk, that they are gay and gasie. A fine stuff Tail then she will have, And linnen Cuffs and all the lave A Collerbody and that right brave, a Glove but and a Glove. Then ye may see beneath Her Chin, On Her white Baan a Broach of Tin, The Posie of't it's like you'le find thou's A mine own my Love. Hold, hold, good Friends I pray you bi〈…〉〈…〉 For I forgot she had a Plaid, Her bonie wallies all to hide, and keep Her from th 〈…〉〈…〉 When this o〈…〉〈…〉 〈…〉〈…〉 Gone to the 〈…〉〈…〉 Byde still a 〈…〉〈…〉 all coming in a 〈…〉〈…〉 Then Jock, and Tam, 〈…〉〈…〉 To Megg and Jenny 〈…〉〈…〉 Into an Ale-House th•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 and that without 〈…〉〈…〉 Or else their Plaids 〈…〉〈…〉 So wickedly they'll 〈…〉〈…〉 Till they at length w 〈…〉〈…〉 and to the Al-Hou•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 When down about ae Board they 〈…〉〈…〉 A Pynt of good ale they will get, VVherewith thei hroats must all be wet that they may leak the better; Then they a talking fall belyve, At once ye'll ay hear four or five, But in this Case I'le no more dyve▪ but Ale don gang like water. But byde a wee efore they gang, The Slags and K〈…〉〈…〉 them amang, Might be the Subject of a Sang if I had Tyme to dite it: More of this Mater I'le forbear, And let them drink their ale and beer, For ye your selves see that I here, have no more Room to write t.
FINIS
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