William Hutchison (Creadieknowe)                        SA1972.99.15

This racy broadsheet ballad was quite well-known in Scotland being published by The Poet’s Box at the Overgate in Dundee and as one of many song sheets printed by Sanderson of Edinburgh and distributed around Shetland until 1945. Roud index no.  5835.

After he sings it you can hear how Willie came to know it.

Jocky Tamson lived wi his mither,
A puir auld body she had nae ither
Tae hear her speak o’ her darling son,
Fokk wid think a haein bairns had newly begun.
Sing ri for looral, ladi for loora, ladi for loorai li do.

As Jock grew up and learned a trade,
He thocht he then big wages made;
Says he,”I’ll ha’e nae mair brose an’ butter,
But I’ll eat nothing but tripe  for me supper
Sing ri for looral, … etc..

[Tae mak’ this dish Jock’s mither agreed,
So Jock on tripe each nicht did feed;
It stood in a can at the end o’ the mangle,
An’ Jock ate in the dark tae save the candle.
Sing ri for looral, … etc..]

Oh Jock ae night tae a wadden’ had geen,               
His mither she’d put nae tripe in the can’
Says she “He’ll be drinkin’ something stronger as water,
And he’ll no need ony tripe for his supper.
Sing ri for looral, … etc..

That night Jock’s mother had mutches tae wash,
An wi some water she gi’ed them a splash!
Wi’ soap and soda she steepit them white
In the pan that Jock aye keepit his tripe,
Singing ri for looral… etc.

Oh Jock cam’ hame at fower o morn’
Wi’ a wee drap barley bree in his horn;                 
Says he I’ll tak my supper I think,
For tripe is guid for killin the drink ‘
Sing ri for looral… etc.

He grovelled aboot the hoose in the dark
For in the place there wisnae a spark
Till on the pan he got his clutch,
Man he stuck in his han’ an’ pu’d oot the mutch.
Sing ri for looral… etc.

“My figs!”says Jock; “This piece o’ tripe
Is as teuch as a gutta-perchy pipe.”
He tore the border awa-frae the croon.
Jock’s thrapple was wide an’ the mutch gaed doon.
Sing ri for looral… etc.

He göd tae bed but couldna sleep,
For inside qualms there was a heap;
His mither awa’ for the doctor ran
Jock gapeit like a shockin swan.
Sing ri for looral… etc.

The doctor cam and prescribed the vomit  
That cleared Jock’s stammach o’ a’ that was on it
The fokk a’ gazed in amaze tae be sure,
When a clean bleach’d mutch fell out on the flair.
Sing ri for looral… etc.

“I think yon’s the kind o outline o him. Hits aboot forty-five years fae I sang yon last.”
PC.  Where did you get that from?
“It’s Sanderson, yonder from Edinburgh.”
PC. Where did you get the tune?
 “Well there were an old blind man in  … Graven, Blind Willie they called him. An he had little harmonium, a organ and he knew an awful lot o yon old songs.  And he used to come tae Whalsay wi concerts, and that’s …when I wis a boy.And that’s the first one I heard him singing. 

And I got the words fae Sanderson [of Edinburgh].  Blind Willie Sinclair – his name.  He used to go to all the cattle shows and all that – play and sing for a few pennies and that.  And he wis here in Whalsay a good few times and he had just a concert himself in the hall – he would sing a song or two and then he would play a tune on the organ, a reel or somethi’ … and then he would tell a few jokes. “