Our Youthful Days or the Old Barn School
Let us recall to memory, our merry youthful days,
When we ran about the Burnies, and the heather covered Braes,
For playing on the hillside, and our splashing in the pool,
Made our youthful days quite happy, at the Old Barn School.
In fancy we may see ourselves assembled there again,
Each with a book, or copy, or in our hand a pen,
The Master glides among us, by his side the spanking tool,
An emblem of order, in the Old Barn School.
If the Master chanced to leave us, we would romp around the floor,
While he perchance was watching through the keyhole in the door,
And with a castigation rewarded our misrule,
Yet our youthful days were happy in the Old Barn School.
Through the window at the back we have often made a row,
And set the dogs a barking with their bow, wow, wow!
Then we’d turn round to our lessons, collected, calm and cool.
As if there were no kennels near the Old Barn School.
All playthings seen at school hours, were made forfeit in the Drawer,
Tops and Dolls and Jewish Harps, and pocket knives galore,
Then not until vacation time or the holidays at Yule,
Would they return to ownership, in the Old Barn School. And when released at mealtimes, we would hurry to the Brae,
To play our games and frolics in the glorious sunny day,
But often had to scamper off when our hearts with joy were full,
For disturbing “Phelak’s” Oschin at the Old Barn School.
Sandy with his Cuddy and Betty at the Bridge,
Jock and Jean, beside us, and Old Campbell at the Lodge,
Knew well we meant no harm, though with them we played the fool,
Twas only youthful sporting at the Old Barn School.
But now these days are gone with their pleasures rich and rare,
And in their stead the days have come of toil and anxious care,
Some schoolmates too have gone to rest whilst others strive to pull
Their weak craft through life’s Ocean from the Old Barn School.