3: The Devil and the Maid
Versions from the Singing Tradition
1: The Devil and the Maid
As sung by John McDonald and his son Ronnie on Marshall's berryfield, Alyth, Angus
2: The Elfin Knight
From Duncan Johnstone and Martha (Peasie) Reid, Torwood, Dunkeld, Perthshire
(Archive version)
3: The Elfin Knight
From Duncan Johnstone and Martha (Peasie) Reid, Torwood, Dunkeld, Perthshire
(Collated version)
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From Duncan Johnstone and Martha (Peasie) Reid, Torwood, Dunkeld, Perthshire
(Collated version) Duncan Johnstone and his wife Martha (Peasie) Reid lived in part of the large house of Torwood in Birnam just across the River Tay from Dunkeld. Their upper flat was reached by an outside stair in the old Scottish style, other flats in the house occupied by other members of their extended traveller family. Recorded by Peter and Lena Shepheard.
PS: I was pointed in their direction by Sheila Stewart of the Blairgowrie Stewart family who told me of Peasie's repertoire of old ballads. When I first visited them (30 June 1967) I had recently recorded John McDonald and his son Ronnie's version of the ballad while camping at the Blairgowrie berryfields so I naturally asked about it and both Peasie and Duncan knew the ballad. Here is their collated version from recordings in June and September 1967 [Spr 67.4.10/11 and 67.5.28]:
'You'll make to me aye a Holland shirt,
Withoot one steke of needlework.'
An' it's ha, ha the wynd'll blow.
'For ye'll wash it into yon draw well,
Where there never was water nor one drop o dew fell.'
An' it's ha, ha the wynd'll blow.
'For ye'll dry it o'er yon thorn-haw bush,
Where there never was thorn since Adam was born.'
An' it's ha, ha the wynd'll blow.
'Since you've played so hard on me,
I'll surely play so hard on you.'
An' it's ha, ha the wynd'll blow.
'For you'll fetch to me two acres of land,
Betwixt the salt sea an' the salt sea strand.'
An' it's ha, ha the wynd'll blow.
'You'll ploo it up with a dooble tup's horn,
You will sow it over with one grain of corn,
An' you'll dry it up with one blink o sun.'
An' it's ha, ha the wynd'll blow.
'You will cut it down with a peahen's feather,
An' you'll stook it up by the stang o an ether.'
An' it's ha, ha the wynd'll blow.
'For you'll yoke two sparrers in a match box,
An' you'll cairt it home to our own fairm yard.'
An' it's ha, ha the wynd'll blow.
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