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½ cup Brown Sugar 1 cup Orange Marmalade 1 teaspoon Bicarbonate of Soda 1 cup Butter 1 cup Plain Flour 1 Egg + enough Milk to fill cup 1 cup Dried Apricots |
Sift together flour and bicarbonate of soda. Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add egg, milk, flour and apricots alternately, beating vigorously, then stir in the marmalade. Turn mixture into a greased 2-pint pudding basin. Cover with foil and steam for 1½ to 2 hours. This pudding can be kept waiting.
It would be interesting to know something of the history of these.
Can anybody help?
O where ha’ you been, Lord Randal my son?
And where ha’ you been, my handsome young man?
I ha’ been at the greenwood; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m wearied wi’ hunting and fain wad lie down.
An’ wha met ye there, Lord Randal my son?
An’ wha met you there; my handsome young man?
O I met wi’ my true-love; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m wearied wi’ huntin’ an’ fain wad lie down.
And what did she give you, Lord Randal my son?
And what did she give you, my handsome young man?
Eels fried in a pan; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m wearied wi’ huntin’ and fain wad lie down.
And wha gat your leavins, Lord Randal my son?
And wha gat your leavins, my handsome young man?
My hawks and my hounds; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m wearied wi’ hunting and fain wad lie down.
And what becam of them, Lord Randal my son?
And what becam of them, my handsome young man?
They stretched their legs out an’ died; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m wearied wi’ huntin’ and fain wad lie down.
O I fear you are poisoned, Lord Randal my son,
I fear you are poisoned, my handsome young man,
O yes, I am poisoned; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m sick at the heart and I fain wad lie down.
What d’ye leave to your mother, Lord Randal my son?
What d’ye leave to your mother, my handsome young man?
Four and twenty milk kye; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m sick at the heart and I fain wad lie down.
What d’ye leave to your sister, Lord Randal my son?
What d’ye leave to your sister, my handsome young man?
My gold and my silver; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m sick at the heart an’ I fain wad lie down.
What d’ye leave to your brother, Lord Randal my son?
What d’ye leave to your brother, my handsome young man?
My houses and my lands; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m sick at the heart and I fain wad lie down.
What d’ye leave to your true-love, Lord Randal my son?
What d’ye leave to your true-love, my handsome young man?
I leave her hell and fire; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I’m sick at the heart and I fain wad lie down.
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© Trevor Hanson 1-Jan-2006 E. & O. E.