On the purely hypothetical subject of booing, and the irreverent heckling of Scottish public figures by crowds, don't lets forget what Walter Scott's characters had to say on the topic, airing their disgruntlement about Captain Porteous' reprieve (shortly before the soldier swung fatally from a rope hoist by the Edinburgh mob...)"Ah dinna ken muckle about the law", answered Mrs Howden; "but I ken, when we had a king, and a chancellor, and parliament men o' our ain, we could aye peeble them wi' stanes when they werena gude bairns - But naebody's nails can reach the length o' Lunnon." ~ Sir Walter Scott, Heart of Midlothian, (1818).
Scottish devolution has, at least partially, repatriated the peebling. I'm sure the redoubtable Mrs Howden would count that a signal achievement. In unrelated news, I've now returned hale and hearty from my wee jaunt to the southern edge of France, which proved just the spot for the penny-pinched to live the (temporary) wine and cheese addled life of a bon-vivant. In any case, the end of summer inaugurates a new, revivified peat worrying season. Don't forget your flaughter.
Eh dinna ken muckle aboot peeblin - jist as weel.
ReplyDeleteBit eh ken thit Lunnon's nails kin reach the length o Glesca.
Twa year tae flaughter a the threapin o the fowk thit Mrs Howden wid want tae peeble. A braw time indeed.
Had to miss my annual jaunt to the Minerve this year. Glad you enjoyed yours.
There's an Iron Maiden song going through my head now, thanks very much Lallands.
ReplyDeleteBring your flaughter, to the slaughter...
Thanks Barney; sorry Conan!
ReplyDelete