Sit ye downe whilst I recaunte -The Tale of the Haggis-
'Twas ay briyte an' bonnie day what the mid'o'Sevvenmonth
When -Who couad'a ken?- Th'graete Sheep o'Mouir came
A-Saddlin' rayte thru th'bleedin' fields w'his graete
Heade a-swayin' leafte n'rayte a'chewin th'verie
Branchyes from th'trees and pawin'up th'graonde with
greate hoofiewoofies t'rend n'gash
Wall.. It wearnete that fearsom, t'tell th'truth,
Bute it were a sight huger than a hoose with graete
Eyelashes unde a fleece muche like a graete woode
O fluffy rowps. Ay, it were a graete feeder too,
wit'a mowth as graete as a bleedin' bayrn door.
Ay, Ah remembre it well...
Well, MacDougal he ken it twere a plenty goode tyeme
T'Be doin' awaye with this graete pest for it twas
Aetin' him near awt o'hearthe n'home...
So what didhe do, that git MacDougal? Lissen t'me
Clowse fur I shall'nt be tellin ye this tayle twyce.
MacDougal he got hisself a graete steamin' cauldron
And he filln'it with oats an' apple pits an parsely,
All sort o'trype what he ken were eatin bye the Sheep.
That done, he left it t'boyle a wee bit until the sheep
Came oop aowt o'the Miuer t'see what was a-cookin upside
Th'crag. When he fauwnd th'cauldron all boyleing with
His fayvorit vittles he owmpenned his graete mowth
And swallowed it whole, fiyre an'all.
Ay, the sheep it was a ryte styuped beeste.
So what did it do, that infarnal sheep?
Here's the wunder ofitall. It ran to the shores of Loch Lomund
A good twenty, tharty leagues 'r so.
There it drank, an' drank, an'drank 'til it was full
Full fit t'burst, it twas.
Ay, an'it did. An'it did, tuh.
It bleedin' exploded.
Ah am nay pullin'yer leg ye git. He bloody well did!
Wall, that's how it came t'be that haggis farst blessed
The bonnie hills o'Scotland. What with all them starvin'
an huddled masses. Pickin th'guts off the gutters.
