Document 728

Mephistophelean Ballant-Scherzo on ane Fife Legend

Author(s): Tom Hubbard

Copyright holder(s): Tom Hubbard

- See that boy Faust? He scunners me,
The toffee-nebbit cratur;
Aye on at me ti dae the wark
That’s richt agin my natur.

Says I, ‘You’re fir the warkin fowk –
Fine words, Faust! I’ll be blunter:
Thae schemes o yours are faur abune
The heid o your avrage punter.

‘Time wis, a stair that wad unrowe
As you’d gang up or doun;
A walin o my pliskiest deils
Paradin throu the toun;

‘Time wis, that saired the masses weill –
Christ! Hit wis aa they kent!
They’re better aff, but still they want
The-day’s equivalent.

‘Like bairns that, gie thaim wine or juice,
Be shair they’ll tak whit’s sweetest;
It’s as it wis and aye’ll be!
Faust, son, you’re an élitist!’

I tak the doktor doun the shore
And scoop intil his haund
Whit’s cheengeless as the fowk theirsel –
And common tae – the saund.

‘Leuk there’, says I, ‘fir nae twa grains
‘ll ever byde thegither;
Ilkane will think itsel unique
Though we canna tell ane frae the t’ither.’

This Faust says I’m a clever deil;
Mony a ferlie I’ve wrocht;
Is there some darg I canna dae?
He canna think o ocht.

‘I’m shair that Mephistopheles
Is the dabbest o dab haunds
At makkin me the finest raip
Frae the grains o Scotlan’s saunds.’

Weill! Hit’s eneuch ti gar the deil
Defect as last ti Gawd:
I wove, and still I better wove,
But the stuffie wadna haud.

Hit gars an honest deil ti wish
He’d bade at hame in Hell!
- Sae if Faust still wants his raip o saund,
He can dae’t his bluidy sel.

Information about Document 728

Mephistophelean Ballant-Scherzo on ane Fife Legend