The Boy in the Gap (jig)
Nice to see that rarity - a tune in a real Gmin. Playing it in any other key (Emin, Dmin, Amin) would ruin its distinctive character.
i really liked that tune
Yes, it’s lovely.
There’s an Emin version here https://thesession.org/tunes/1823
The other version…
is interesting to compare because it’s actually in E dorian.
“Straddle the Donkey” - another in the family
Submitted on February 26th 2008 by ceolachan.
Re: The Boy In The Gap
Beautiful tune especially when taken at a slower speed, I know it as The Laird Of Cockpen. G min seems to be the original key despite all the variations listed on the site. The earliest printing of it that I’m aware of is in Howe’s Jigs and Reels where it appears in this key. It seems like it may be slightly older still since it was originally listed as an air and set to a Scots poem by Carolina Oliphant:
The laird o’ Cockpen, he’s proud an’ he’s great,
His mind is ta’en up wi’ the things o’ the State;
He wanted a wife, his braw house to keep,
But favour wi’ wooin’ was fashious to seek.
Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
At his table head he thocht she’d look well,
M’Leish’s ae dochter o’ Clavers-ha’ Lea,
A penniless lass wi’ a lang pedigree.
His wig was weel pouther’d and as gude as new,
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
He put on a ring, a sword, and cock’d hat,
And wha could refuse the laird wi’ a’ that?
He took the grey mare, and rade cannily,
And rapp’d at the yett o’ Clavers-ha’ Lea;
‘Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben, -
She’s wanted to speak to the laird o’ Cockpen.’
Mistress Jean she was makin’ the elderflower wine;
‘An’ what brings the laird at sic a like time?’
She put aff her apron, and on her silk goun,
Her mutch wi’ red ribbons, and gaed awa’ doun.
An’ when she cam’ ben, he bowed fu’ low,
An’ what was his errand he soon let her know;
Amazed was the laird when the lady said ‘Na’,
And wi’ a laigh curtsie she turned awa’.
Dumfounder’d was he, nae sigh did he gie,
He mounted his mare - he rade cannily;
An’ aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
She’s daft to refuse the laird o’ Cockpen.