...haughty lass, Her head wi' pride and folly toss ; Ne'er look on her, but let her pass, For oh ! she's not my Mary. Sae kind, kind and gentle is she, Kind is my Mary ; The tender blossom o' the tree, Nae purer is than Mary. But see you one, wi' modest air, Bedecked wi' beauties soft and...

...again for auld lang syne. " But see ye one o' modest air, Bedecked wi' beauty saft an' rare, That maks your heart feel sweetly sair, O weel ye ken my Mary....she, Kind is my Mary ; The tender blossom on the tree Cannot compare wi' Mary." He was in the middle of the refrain, and had his hand uplifted, beating time...

...face responsive, as was his voice, to the sentiment and the melody of the exquisite ballad he chose. " Kind, kind and gentle is she, Kind is my Mary; The tender blossom on the tree Cannot compare wi' Mary." We saw that the heart of the old man was stirred as he sang, and that his...

...he voiced some inner thought — an old, long-forgotten air, presently breaking into its words : " Sae kind, kind and gentle is she, Kind is my Mary; The tender blossom on the tree. Cannot compare wi' Mary." Duly arriving at the ranch, he dropped his lines, and leisurely sauntering...

...camp-chair, with hands folded in front of him, he fixed upon me his childlike gaze, and began to sing. "Kind, kind, and gentle is she, Kind is my Mary, The tender blossom on the tree Cannot compare wi' Mary." Fashions in music may come and go. Even the socalled music of the present...