I wis born at Migvie, bit I didna ging tae Migvie School, na. I gid tae Logie Coldstone. I left the school fin I wis 12 year auld, an did jobbies here an there on fairms till I wis apprenticed tae a jyner at Ballater. We didna dee muckle at the school, jist yer ABCs an yer readin an coontin, an mebbe some singin. I div mind ae poem, bit I didna learn it at school, I heard it aroon Tarlan:
Noo dinna ask foo much yer looed,
For faith, I canna tell.
Bit ilkie day, baith mair an mair,
I loo ye for masel.
An mebbe, fur the New Year, luv,
Cud we nae get thegither?
Jist you an me...we'd happy be,
Throught dark an stormy weather.
I long tae haud ye in ma airms
Close tae ma breist sae husky...
Fur I'll be true tae neen bit you,
Ma ain beluved whusky!
Wis that nae a fine poem ? Tarlan's a lot quater noo, ye ken, than it eesed tae be.They eence threw a bobby doon the burn at Tarland. They widna dee that noo. Div ye like thon cup ower there? I wun yon at the curlin.
Ay, I wis a dab haun at the curlin at Tarlan. Ay, I gid through the curlers' coort.
Is't a secret society? Weel, it micht be, an then again, it michtna.
Fit div ye dee tae ging through the curlers' coort? The initiation ceremony? If I telt ye that, ye'd be as wise as me, noo widn't ye?
Ye can keep a secret? Ay, well sae can I. An if I telt ye the secret, it widna be a secret noo,. wid it!