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A Walking Stick
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The Specific Gravity Of Folly
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Scotch Simplicity
Jests Home
AT Hawick, the people used to wear wooden clogs, which made a clanking
noise on the pavement. A dying old woman had some friends by her
bedside, who said to her, Weel, Jenny, ye are gaun to Heeven, an' gin
you should see our folks, ye can tell them that we're a weel. To which
Jenny replied. Weel, gin I shud see them I 'se tell them, but you manna
expect that I am to gang clank clanking through Heeven looking for your
folk.
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