| Many years ago, an enterprising young
Scotsman decided he had had enough of poverty, and, being a practical young lad, decided
to do something about it. The fashion in those days
was if you desired a little more cash/possessions, you simply took a walk over to the
neighbours place, knocked on the door (with a large bit of wood, or if you were
particularly well off, a claymore), and politely asked for a donation to the cause.
Usually the conversation went something like this:
Knock knock.
Who's there?
'S me an' ra boyz - see iffn' ye dinnae let's rape yer
sheep an' pillage yer wimmin, we'ze ur gonnae do youse - ok? (Translation: "My
friends and I have come over for a party, which we intend to hold with or without your
permission").
Awa an' bile yer heids ye bunch o' jessies. (Translation:
"I'm not too happy about that idea").
There normally followed a session of good natured skull
bashing, after which either one of the involved parties could be declared the winner. Of
course, if your name was McDonald, and your neighbours were called Campbell, this too on a
very serious note, but that's another story.
Anyway, this your Scot, was seriously fed up of having his
sheep raped, and his women carried off, so he decided to move to a small village on the
West coast of Scotland, and begin a new enterprise. It so happens that this was the
village where your ancestors came from.
Night after night, he scoured the hills and plains, until
he managed to obtain, by various means, several pairs of haggis. These he enclosed in
pens, and began the process of inducing them to breed. Eventually, he found that by
replacing their water with whisky, the haggis lost many of their inhibitions, and began to
breed. He was delighted at his success, and now he sat back to await the outcome of the
breeding program.
Unfortunately, as all perfect plans go, there was a fatal
flaw - haggis, when left in their natural habitat to breed, do so at different intervals,
but this was "factory farming" - they were all due around the same time - and it
is a well known fact that several days before giving birth, the haggis emits a droning
sound - a sound which is to put it mildly, not too pleasant to listen to.
When the nearby villagers heard this sound, they set about
cutting all the trees on the West Coast of Scotland down, and converting them into ships -
this job was done rather hastily - like overnight! There then followed a mass exodus of
the inhabitants of this particular area to anywhere, as long as there weren't any mating
haggis around - your ancestors must have been lucky to make it over to those far shores,
considering the time they had to prepare for the journey, and the speed of their
departure.
This also of course explains the severe lack of trees
on the West coast of Scotland.
Information provided by john@wilsonjo.demon.co.uk |
