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Elphinstone Kist   Maakers, History, Family & Home

A Question o Mainners     by: Middleton, Ian

Jock Stronach wis birslin, fair brunt tae the reets,
In a blooter o swyte fae ees croon till ees queets,
He wis a’ fire’t an fyaachy, an fabbit as weel
So he turned ees attention on foo tae get queel.

He thocht o the beach, bit ach, twis ower far,
An he’d nae inclination for yokin the car,
Syne he thocht till himsel “I cwid aye be a jeuk,
The dam, be it dubby, wid dee for a dook!”

There wis nithin tae hinner ‘im – as far’s he cwid tell
There wis naebody aboot bit the jeuks an imsel,
The option wis there gin he wintit tae tak it,
So he tirred aff ees claes an he loupit in nyaakit!

He came doon on his stammick wi sic a like clyte
That he steered fae the boddim a cloud o jeuk’s droppins!
The watter wis freezin, ees breath gid awa,
An fan it cam back it came oot wi an “Ah-a-a-ah!”

He got eased wi’t come time, an wis sweer tae come oot
Re-livin ees youth as he capert aboot,
He swam on ees belly, syne on til ees back
An spootert an splashed, an did a’thing bit quack!

Meg Mitchell, weel kent for inquisitive itch,
Wis poo-in amon rasps ben the side o the ditch
That ran intae the dam far Jock he wis dooking
An she crawled throu the busses tae see fit wis cookin!

Jock b’ this time wis oot, haein tired o ees fun
An wis lyin on ees guts drying aff in the sun,
Fin a vice fae the busses cries “Furl or ye’ll burn,
I can tell b’ baith cheeks that yer deen till a turn!”

Jock jirked wi the fleg o’t, an loupt till ees feet,
Tryin sair tae get decent, an beat a retreat,
He grabbit ees bonnet wi commendable speed
An clappit it on far twid dee the maist gweed!

As he steed there, reed-faced, cross-leggit, an sullen,
Ye’d hae heard the guffas o Meggie in Cullen,
An she howled at Jock fae the heid o the k-now
“Wid yer bonnet nae fit better up on yer pow?”

“A’ richt than,” cried Jock, “Ye’ve hane yer wee game,
I’m surprised at ye umman, ye ocht tae think shame!
G’wa oot o that noo, an less o yer yap,
It’s the hicht o ill-mainners tae stan there an gaap!”

Meg, determined at least that she’d hae the last say,
Turned an shoutit at Jock fae the heid oo the brae
“Yer ticht kine o mainners yersel, come tae that,
For a gentleman, surely, wid hae liftit ees hat!”

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