For ma fellow Scots
Gordon Brown is visiting a hospital. He enters a ward and
asks the first patient how he is feeling.
'Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, an a' that;
Tho' hundreds worship at this word,
He's but a coof for a' that'
. .... comes the reply.
Brown is a little taken aback and moves on to the next
patient. 'And how are you feeling?' he asks. The patient
looks at him and replies,
'Oft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And fondly sae did I o'mine.'
Again Brown is puzzled. But undeterred he poses his same
question to the next patient, who answers,
'That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter's sleety dribble,
An cranreuch cauld!'
Brown is nonplussed. He turns to the nurse. 'Excuse me' he
asks, 'but is this the mental health ward?'
'Och, No, Prime Minister', says the nurse. 'It's the
Serious Burns unit.'
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