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THE milking songs of the people are numerous and varied. They are sung to pretty airs, to please the cows and to induce them to give their milk, The cows become accustomed to these lilts and will not give their milk without them, nor, occasionally, without their favourite airs being sung to them. This fondness of Highland cows for music induces owners of large herds to secure milkmaids possessed of good voices and some 'go.' It is interesting and animating to see three or four comely girls among a fold of sixty, eighty, or a hundred picturesque Highland cows on meadow or mountain slope. The moaning and heaving of the p. 259 sea afar, the swish of the wave on the shore, the carolling of the lark in the sky, the unbroken song of the mavis on the rock, the broken melody of the merle in the brake, the lowing of the kine without, the response of the calves within the fold, the singing of the milkmaids in unison with the movement of their hands, and of the soft sound of the snowy milk falling into the pail, the gilding of hill and dale, the glowing of the distant ocean beyond, as the sun sinks into the sea of golden glory, constitute a scene which the observer would not, if he could, forget.
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THIG, a Bhreannain, o’n a chuan, Thig, a Chaluim chaoimh, o’n chro, Thig am fearan o’n a choill, |
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COME, Brendan, from the ocean, Come, beloved Colum of the fold, The stock-dove will come from the wood, |
