Part 12

There are twa pownies in the mine, a braw an' bonnie pair, An' physically fit are they tae dae their wark an' mair; But Dandy wi' his funeral step, an' Bobbie wi his tricks, Mak' the driver's life a burden doon in Level No. 6.

CHORUS.

An' then the ruif is far owre low, wi' the hinger hingin' doon, Yer needin' stickin' plaister aye, for the dressin' o' yer croon; Sometimes ye think ye've got it, frae a hunerwecht o' bricks-- Job's patience wadna' stan' the test in Level No. 6.

CHORUS.

Whiles when ye think ye're daein' weel, an' a sang begin tae croon, It's then ye hear the gaffer's plaint--"Is this a' ye hae dune?" If ye dinna get the ha'pence, ye're shair tae get the kicks Frae the gaffers or the pownies doon in Level No. 6.

CHORUS.

The miners doon in No. 6 are awfu' han's tae sweer; Gang and hear them for yersel' gin ye think that I'm a leear; There's the Billys and the Sandys, the Taffys and the Micks, Cosmopolitan is jist the word for Level No. 6.

CHORUS.

Wi' a' this fash an' worry, I'm seek an' tired o' life, An' I'd gledly gang an' droon masel' gin that would end the strife; But a worse micht then befa' me, for I'm nae freen o' Auld Nick's, Sae I think I'd better work awa' in Level No. 6.

CHORUS.

EMERGENCY PUMP, LEVEL No. 4.

In 1908 we set ye up, A mechanism fine; We a' admired ye as ye lashed The water frae the mine.

Noo that anither's taen yer place Ye're reckoned second-rate, An' dark an' silent there ye stan' Until there comes a spate.

But when we ask ye for a lift Ye start aff wi' a roar, Sae keen are ye tae dae yer bit At Level No. 4.

When oiled an' greased an' packit weel, An' steady hauds the steam, Ye gang as smooth as ony clock Or ony poet's dream.

Tae pumps, an' horse, an' human kind, The kindlier we are The mair o' guid we get frae them, The less tae fret an' jar.

Sae let us aye keep this in mind When ilka spell is o'er, An' kindly tend ye while ye rest At Level No. 4.

THE TURNING O' THE WHEEL.

New Song with an Old Title. Old Country Style.

As I was a-walking upon a simmer day I spied a bonnie lassie a-winnowin' the hay; Says I, "My bonnie lassie, true love for you I feel. Will ye wed and share what fortune brings wi' the turnin' o' the wheel?"

Says she, "My bonnie laddie, I'm far ower young for thee; My faither an' my mither they baith wad angry be Were I sae young tae wed wi' you an' leave their hamely biel Tae share what fortune brings you wi' the turnin' o' the wheel."

Says I, "My bonnie lassie, O! dinna say me nay; Tho' young you be, that is a faut that's mendin' every day; If ye'll consent tae mairry me ye'll find me kind an' leal, An' we'll share what fortune brings us wi' the turnin' o' the wheel."

Says she, "My bonnie laddie, yer offer tempts me sair; Gin ye can win the auld folks I'll hesitate nae mair, An' I'll lay by my winin's, likewise my rock an' reel, An' share what fortune brings ye wi' the turnin' o' the wheel."

Noo we've been mairried mony a year, an' happy we hae been, We watch oor children's children a-sportin' on the green; Let ilka lad an' lassie wha lo'e each ither weel Get wed an' share what fortune brings wi' the turnin' o' the wheel.

TO ARMS!

Song. Recruiting Call.

Arise! Arise! Britannia's sons! And forward go with flag unfurled, And help to crush this murderous Power That seeks to dominate the world.

Arise and answer to the call, And strike for freedom and the name Of manhood 'gainst a foe that's lost Alike to honour and to shame!