lull it asleep--balow! balow!
And while she is singing, the snowflakes are winging
And whirling in eddies all through, all through.
I listed the rening and wondered the meaning:
Was it the tale of her woe, her woe--
A truthful crooning or a maniac mooning--
All in the forest of Rumbollow?

[Footnote A: The old song called "Rumbollow Fair" is said by
Pinkerton to have been lost. I have heard a refrain, "All in the
Forest of Rumbollow," but whether this has any relation to the
old song I do not know. I fear I am altogether responsible for
this rhapsodical effusion.]

THE SONG OF THE BETRAYED.

"Balow! balow! my bonnie bairn--
Nae father to care for you;
As your mother has sinned so shall she earn,
And to her the world is hard and stern,
Who has loved and lived to rue,
Balow!
Who has loved and lived to rue.

"On Rumbollow green my love lies slain,
As he cam' frae Rumbollow Fair;
His bodie lies deep amang rushes green,
Where corbies pike at his bonnie blue een,
And taeds sleep in his hair,
Balow!
And taeds sleep in his hair.

"The grey owl sits on yon willow tree,
Whose branches o'er him weep,
And sends its scream far o'er the lea,
Where night winds whisper mournfullie,
And through the rashes sweep,
Balow!
And through the rashes sweep.

"When first I met wi' Hab o' the Howe
I had scarce twice nine years seen,
And he swore by our Ladye o' Rumbollow
I had set a' his heart in a holy lowe
Wi' the fire o' my twa black een,
Balow!
Wi' the fire o' my twa black een.

"Of a' the fair maidens on Rumbollow green
There was nane sae fair as me,
Wi' my kilted kirtle o' mazarine,
And buckles as bright as the siller sheen,
And my coatie o' cramosie,
Balow!
And my coatie o' cramosie.

"I was proud that he stood tall men abune,
Sae stalwart, sae bald and free;
But he cozened my heart and left me undune,
Wi' tatters for claes and bachels for shune,
And a sin-wean on my knee,
Balow!
And a sin-wean on my knee.

"Last night, when the mune was in the wane,
And the winds were moaning low,
I wandered by his dead bodie alane,
And looked at the hole in his white hause bane,
And the gash on his bonnie brow,
Balow!
And the gash on his bonnie brow.

"Did I wail to the mune, and tear my hair,
And weep o'er his bodie? Na!
I leugh at the fause are wha left me to care,
And fought for Bess Cummock at Rumbollow Fair,
And there lies dead, ha! ha!
Balow!
And there lies dead, ha! ha!"

She is up an