By Simon Brown

Auld Broon's tale of a typical Women's Rural Institute (WRI) night at Netherdale.


As I gaed oot by Netherdale,
I hope ye'll listen tae ma tale,
I sa' so mony wifies there,
That I could only stand an' stare.



Now Mrs Durno hurries on,
Fer she's her guid claes ti' get on,
An' Charlie's left tae sit himsel',
'Cause it's Rural nicht at Netherdale.

2. A man came by and he says to me,
Lord fit can a' the hurry be,
Says I, I hardly need you tell,
It's Rural nicht at Netherdale.


10. Now Mrs Mackie she'll be there,
Fur her an' Elna they're a pair,
They're loaded up wi' ginger breed,
Fer it is their nicht, the folk tae feed.
3. Noo the men lowse early fae the ploo,
Fur they ken their wife she's in a stew,
But if only you could hear them mutter,
This Rural is a bloomin' scutter.


11. Noo they come frae Marnoch an' Ardmiddle,
T' sing a sang or play the fiddle,
For it is their nicht tae entertain,
An' they'll be invited back again.
4. The bairns intil their beds they go,
Fer they ken it's hopeless saying no,
Fur mithers dressed up like a swell,
An' they ken she's aff tae Netherdale.


12. Noo Mrs Bean she's president,
An' things that's new, she will com-ment,
An' she can fairly cast a spell,
On the Rural folk of Netherdale.
5. The beasts look up an' stop their grazing,
To watch the cars, it is amazing,
Fur they say that even the beasts can tell,
Fan it's Rural nicht at Netherdale.


13. Noo they sit an' blether half the nicht,
Aboot the wey tae dae things richt,
An' fan they go hame, they're in their glory,
An' fer days they'll deeve ye wi' their story.
6. Now Mrs Gregor goes at speed,
Fur she has got her hens tae feed,
The hens look up an' they say by feggs,
She has'na even teen wir eggs.


14. Fan it's Rural nicht at Netherdale,
It boosts the "People's Journal" sale,
An' you'll see them a queued at their shoppie,
Fur fear they dinna get their copy.
7. Now Mrs Bean gets up t' say,
Ye'll get in that coo wi' nae delay,
Fur it's till the Rural I must go,
Though it's rain or sleet or frost or snow.


15. Noo I've traivelled far ower hill an' glen,
There's very few places I dinna ken,
But I am fairly safe tae tell,
There's neen compares wi' Netherdale.
8. Then Amy she will come alang,
Tae play the piano or sing a sang,
An' she says that there is little doot,
it's the only nicht that she gets oot.


16. Now you've haen a Rural fer mony a day,
An' jist let's hope that it keeps that way,
An' long efter I am deid an' gone,
Yer Rural will keep going on.
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Copyright Mrs E Henderson 2004
No part of this poem may be reproduced in any form without the prior permission of the copyright holder or Simon Brown's  family.

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