Bad spelin'

Chasing lasses around a bar?

I would have you know, Clarky, that I am an upright sort of feller, and have always endeavoured to live my life by following the examples of great men.

However, I am compelled to admit that on this occasion I was following the example of the immortal bard, Rabbie Burrrrns. A man who I have to confess was no stranger to lassies or bars.

Shortly after singing one of his best known (and least understood) songs (for it was Hogmanay), I found myself demonstrating the finer points of the Irish jig to a young person. The fact that this lassie was herself Irish should have discouraged me, but I pressed on regardless.

The result was catastrophic. Nearly two months in plaster, then a strange sort of adjustable boot - an improved version of those used for extracting confessions in the Tower of London.

However, I can now hobble about without crutches, and even drive a car, so life is looking up. Jigging, you will not be surprised to hear, is no longer part of my repertoire.

G

An Irish jig The things we do to impress the fairer sex

I'm glad you've learnt your lesson, hobbling around on crutches is something I am no stranger to, coming from years of dirt bike riding, unfortunately I have yet to learn my lesson And if I ever decide to give up riding I will follow your advice and not take up Irish jigging as a pastime.

Again, glad to see you back.

George, I hope the wee lass was impressed by how you fell for her....

G