The fairms noo are unca braw
Hi' coos in parlours, nae a sta
An' tractors wi' their shiny chrome
Lik' tinkers cairts that use't tae roam
Wi' combines no that cut the crap
So stooks an' mulls are aff the map
An neeps are hairstit wi' machine
An' pluck and tailer niver seen
Bit weel I min' at Cachenheid
The plowter fin the neeps we'd lead

Fin winter's gloamin' dulls the sky
An' glowerin' cloods gang scuddin' by
Al' Pat chaps up his Bogie Roll
An staps it in his pipie's bowl
He strik's his lichter wi' his thoom
An' seen he's lost in Bogie fume
Then fin the pipe is pullin' richt
He contemplates the failin' licht
An' then he murmers tae the geats
"Awa an' pull a puckle neeps"

The sheddie far the Major bides
Is leaky reef't an' wintin sides
An' chukens hunker't in their reests
Are sittin' up on ivery jeest
An' doon aneth the tractor's been
Real weel anint't frae abeen
Bit spurrit on bi failin' licht
The seat wi' sleeve is gaen a dicht
The petrol tin is heistit up
In in the tank is poor't a sup

The metal seat is unca queel
Bit Sandy clim's ahin the wheel
He sets the throttle an' the spark
An' cries "Richt, Rory, gae't a yark"
So Rory gaes his hauns a dicht
An' starts tae crank wi' a' his micht
A hardy chiel bit seen he tires
An' then the thrawn beastie fires
The ingin gies a wheezy bark
An' plug lead buttons crack an' spark

They plowter through the midden's bree
An' yoke the twa-wheel't bogie tae
Then Rory shouts "Weel, on ye come"
An' hauds the throttle tae the lum
The bogie loups an' stots breakneck
Wi' bairns hingin' tae the heck
The reek an' sparks an' dubs an' goor
Come fleein' back an' mak' them co'or
Then ower the road an' in the park
An' hit the dubs wi' muckle yark

The ingin starts tae miss an' groan
Bit still the tractor plowters on
The tracks are nearly twa fit deep
An' in atween a goorie heap
Then at the tap they turn aroon
An' heid tae far the neeps aboon
Bit noo they're heidin' doon the hill
The tractor breenges for the kill
An' Rory's doup is aff the seat
As brakes he ca's wi' fleein' feet

At last fin Rory's daen his best
An' brocht the thrawn beast tae rest
The bairns scram'l tae the grun
A' lauchin' frae their bittie fun
Then Changie tak's the steerin' wheel
Tho' sic a brae yer bleed wid jeel
An' starts aff crawlin' doon the hill
While a' the rest the bogie fill
Wi' Rory's pluck and tailer gaun
An' bairns throwin' neeps an' fa'in

They plowter on in mountin' gloom
A' sotter't up frae heid tae foon
Bit wi' the licht noo a' bit gaen
The wark o' pooin' neeps is daen
An' aince again they're on the cairt
An' heidin' for the steadin's airt
Bit noo they're slow an' lauchs are few
They're tire't an' caul an soakit through
Then through the gate an' ower the road
An' tae the steadin' wi' their load

The loons slide wide the steadin' door
Frae inside comes the Tilly's roar
Then Rory backs the bogie in
An' rummels aff the neeps ahin
The bogie's dumpit in its bed
The tractor's shov't intae its shed
Then tae the kitchin' fin'in Mam
Then dauds o' loaf an' hamemade jam
Och aye, twis hard tae be a geat
Bit, fegs, the mem'ry's unca sweet

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