BONNACH FALLAIDH.

O, the good-wife will be singing

When her meal is all but done —

Now all my bannocks have I baked,

I've baked them all but one;

And I'll dust the board to bake it,

I'll bake it with a spell —

O, it's Finlay's little bannock

For going to the well.

The bannock on the brander

Smells sweet for your desire —

O my crisp ones I will count not

On two sides of the fire;

And not a farl has fallen

Some evil to foretell!—

O it's Finlay's little bannock

For going to the well.

The bread would not be lasting,

‘ Twould crumble in your hand;

When fairies would be coming here

To turn the meal to sand —

But what will keep them dancing

In their own green dell?

O it's Finlay's little bannock

For going to the well.

Now, not a fairy finger

Will do my baking harm —

The little bannock with the hole,

O it will be the charm.

I knead it, I knead it,‘ twixt my palms,

And all the bairns I tell —

O it's Finlay's little bannock

For going to the well.