Scottish Poetry Selection
- The Puddock

There is a strong tradition in Scotland which believes in the equality of man and a dislike of "airs and graces". Here is a little poem by J. M. Caie about pride coming before a fall...

The Puddock

A Puddock sat by the lochan's brim,
An' he thocht there was never a puddock like him.
He sat on his hurdies, he waggled his legs,
An' cockit his heid as he glowered throu' the seggs
The bigsy wee cratur' was feelin' that prood,
He gapit his mou' an' he croakit oot lood
"Gin ye'd a' like tae see a richt puddock," quo' he,
" Ye'll never, I'll sweer, get a better nor me.
I've fem'lies an' wives an' a weel-plenished hame,
Wi' drink for my thrapple an' meat for my wame.
The lasses aye thocht me a fine strappin' chiel,
An' I ken I'm a rale bonny singer as weel.
I'm nae gaun tae blaw, but the truth I maun tell-
I believe I'm the verra MacPuddock himsel'."

A heron was hungry an' needin' tae sup,
Sae he nabbit th' puddock and gollup't him up;
Syne 'runkled his feathers: "A peer thing," quo' he,
"But-puddocks is nae as fat as they eesed tae be."

Meaning of unusual words:
seggs=yellow iris
gapit=gaped open
thrapple= throat

Return to the Index of Scottish Poetry Selection

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