And true it wis a frosty nicht,
Fan Banjo and I set aff thegither,
Tae hae a news wi ane anither.
As it wis weerin on tae eicht,
An we wis getting a bittie pecht
We ca'ed in bye a fairm toon,
Tae see the Lyons o high renown.
As seen as we commenced tae gab,
An my big tongue began tae wag,
Mention wis made o a ploughin match
Which mony fowk wid fain hae watched.
This match wis held at Nethermains
Faur, like aawey else it often rains.
The grun it couldna better be
Tho it were beside the sea.
Fifty ploughs took pairt in aa,
The mornin it wis unco braw,
As tractors o aa shapes an sizes
Rallied forth tae win their prizes.
They cam fae Keig, they cam fae Tough,
Fae Aboyne an Tarland, sure enough,
Fae Monymusk and Kemnay tee
Tae show the judge fit they could dee.
Charlie Low fae Pikies toon,
He wis there tho jist a loon,
Wi his Fergie an its hood
Tae show that plough, he sure could.
The Lyons they were there in force,
Some hash they hid tae reach the course,
An Grogie's grieve an Glashan tee,
Photographed for aa tae see.
Auld Imray fae Newfauld took pairt,
An set to it wi aa his hairt,
While Adams ploughed a bonnie rig,
An made judge Taylor claw his wig.
Hepburn he took fourth place,
An honour tae the Milton race.
An Glashan tho nae cup he won
Proved tae be a worthy son.
As they come roarin up the parkkk,
Nae a sparkin plug that didna spark.
The Fordies, Fergies and Davie Browns,
Kicked up some bonnie souns.
At dinner time sharp wis the win,
The soup they say wis rather thin,
Which wis, I think, a little unfair,
For those that sure had wrought sae sair.
The pub wis in the cairt shed
A good ane tee it has been said,
For mair than ane wis heard tae say,
'There's plenty beer an ale the day.'
The match cam tae an end at last,
The fairmers a hefty day hid passed
An noo they set aff tae their hames,
Fae the ploughin match at Nethermains.
IAN TAIT.