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I like to have quotations ready for every occasions - they give one's ideas so pat and save one the trouble of finding expression adequate to one's feeling.

Robert Burns

We continue our new Feature in this section of the Flag - Scottish Quotations - statements in prose and verse which reflect all aspects of Scottish life and outlook from the 13^th century to the present day.  New quotes added every week.  The quotations are not restricted to native Scots but include observations from abroad which help us, in the words of our National Bard, Robert Burns, "To see oursels as others see us" 

Sir Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill (1874-1965)

… as to the future, we have to secure for Scotland a much more direct and convenient method of bringing her influence to bear upon her own purely domestic affairs. There is nothing which conflicts with the integrity of the United Kingdom in the setting up of a Scottish Parliament for the discharge of Scottish business. There is nothing which conflicts with the integrity of the United Kingdom in securing to Scotsmen in that or in some other way an effective means of shaping the special legislation which affects them and only them. Certainly I am of opinion that if such a scheme can be brought into existence it will mean a great enrichment not only of the national life of Scotland, but of the politics and public life of the United Kingdom.

(Speech given in Dundee 3 October 1911)

Andrew Fletcher of Saltoun (1653-1716) 

An army is reckoned to belong to who pays it, so an army paid from England would be called an English army.

Henry Vollam Morton (1892-1979)

The queer compromise between fairyland and battleground which is the border.

(In Search of Scotland 1929)

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832)

Then strip, lads, and to it, though sharp be the weather,
And if by mischance, you should happen to fall,
There are worse things in life than a tumble on the heather,
And life is itself but a game of football.

(Lines on the Lifting of the Banner of the House of Buccleuch)

Come saddle tae me my auld grey mare,
Come saddle tae me my pretty, O,
I’ll tak the road an’ I’m gaun far awa’,
Awa wi’ the rovin’ ploughboy, O!

Chorus:
Ploughboy, O! Ploughboy, O!
I’ll follow the rovin’ ploughboy, O!

Last night I lay on a fine feather bed,
Sheets and blankets sae cosy-o,
To-night I maun lie in a cauld barn shed
Row’d in the arms o’ my ploughboy-o.

Champion ploughboy my Geordie lad,
Cups and medals and prizes-o,
In bonnie Deveronside there’s nane can compare
Wi’ my jolly rovin’ ploughboy-o.

So fare ye weel tae auld Huntly toon,
Fare ye weel Drumdelgie O,
For noo I’m on the road and I’m gaun far away,
Awa’ wi’ the rovin’ ploughboy-o.

Footnote: A song with shades of traditional ballads about  the lady of the big houss running off with a gypsy – ploughmen obviously thought themselves ‘no small drink’! Of course with the Horseman’s Word they were supposed to control both horse and women!!

This week we again come to the highlight of rural life in Scotland as the premier agricultural show – The Royal Highland Show – is held at Ingilston, Edinburgh. The 2006 show runs from Thursday 22 June to Sunday 25 June and is Scotland’s top summer outdoor attraction. It has something for all the family which is probably why on average 150,000 people regularly attend the four-day event. Last year some 155,000 flocked to Ingilston to enjoy the wide range of attractions, trade stands and the showcasing of some 4,000 of the very best cattle, sheep, horses and goats in the country. The annual show is organised by The Royal Highland and Agricultural Society of Scotland and has grown quite dramatically since the first show was held in Edinburgh in 1822. Thankfully the show has never departed from its strong rural roots and full details are available at  www.royalhighlandshow.org for the perfect day out.

The Royal highland Show features the very best of Scottish Beef and with the lifting of the export ban on this fine product, Scottish Beef is once again available on the world’s menu. We celebrate this fact with this week’s delicious recipe -              

Beef with Chanterelle Mushrooms

Ingredients:  115g/4oz chanterelle mushrooms;  2 rump steaks, 175g/6oz each, cut into strips;  45mls/3 tbsp olive oil;  1 garlic clove;  1 shallot, finely chopped;  60ml/4 tbsp dry white wine;  60ml/4 tbsp double cream;  25g/1oz/2 tbsp butter;  salt and ground black pepper

Method:  Clean the mushrooms, cut them in half through the stalk and cap. 

Dry the beef thoroughly on kitchen paper.  Heat a large frying pan over a high heat then add 30ml/2 tbsp olive oil.  Working in batches, put the meat in the pan and quickly brown on all sides. 

Remove the meat, which still should be very rare, from the pan, set aside and keep warm.  Add the remaining olive oil to the pan and reduce the heat.  Stir in the garlic and shallot and cook, stirring, for about 1 minute.  Then increase the heat and add the mushrooms.  Season and cook until the mushrooms just start to soften.  Add the wine, bring to the boil and add the cream.  As the liquid thickens, return the beef to the pan and heat through. 

Remove the pan from the heat and swirl in the butter without mixing fully.  Serve on warmed plates, garnished with chopped fresh parsley.

 THROUGH THE FLOOD
By Ian MacLaren

Click here to listen to this in Real Audio read by Marilyn P Wright

Doctor MacLure did not lead a solemn procession from the sick bed to the dining-room, and give his opinion from the hearthrug with an air of wisdom bordering on the supernatural, because neither the Drumtochty houses nor his manners were on that large scale. He was accustomed to deliver himself in the yard, and to conclude his directions with one foot in the stirrup; but when he left the room where the life of Annie Mitchell was ebbing slowly away, our doctor said not one word, and at the sight of his face her husband’s heart was troubled. He was a dull man, Tammas, who could not read the meaning of a sign, and laboured under a perpetual disability of speech; but love was eyes to him that day, and a mouth.

"Is’t as bad as yir lookin’, doctor? tell’s the truth; wull Annie no’ come through?" and Tammas looked MacLure straight in the face, who never flinched his duty or said smooth things.

"A’ wud gie onything tae say Annie hes a chance, but a’ daurna; a’ doot yir gaein’ tae lose her, Tammas."

MacLure was in the saddle, and as he gave his judgment, he laid his hand on Tammas’s shoulder with one of the rare caresses that pass between men.

"It’s a sair business, but ye ‘ill play the man and no vex Annie; she ‘ill dae her best, a’ll warrant."

"An’ a’ll dae mine," and Tammas gave MacLure’s hand a grip that would have crushed the bones of a weakling. Drumtochty felt in such moments the brotherliness of this roughlooking man, and loved him.

Tammas hid his face in Jess’s mane, who looked round with sorrow in her beautiful eyes, for she had seen many tragedies, and in this silent sympathy the stricken man drank his cup, drop by drop.

"A’ wesna prepared for this, for a’ ay thocht she wud live the langest. . .. She’s younger than me by ten years, and never wes ill. . .. We’ve been mairit twal year laist Martinmas, but it’s juist like a year the day. . .. A wes never worthy o’ her, the bonniest, snoddest (neatest), kindliest lass in the Glen. . . . A’ never cud mak cot hoo she ever lookit at me, ‘at hesna lied ae word tae say aboot her till it’s ower late. . . . She didna cuist up tae me that a’ wesna worthy o’ her, no’ her, but ay she said, ‘Yir ma am gudeman, and nane cud be kinder tae me.’ ... An’ a’ wes minded tae be kind, but a’ see noo mony little trokes a’ snicht hae dune for her, and noo the time is bye... . Naebody kens hoo patient she wes wi’ me, and ay made the best o’ me, an never pit me tae shame afore the fouk. . . . An’ we never lied ae cross word, no ane in twal year. We were mair nor man and wife, we were sweethearts a’ the time. .. . Oh, ma bonnie lass, what ‘ill the bairnies an’ me dae withoot ye, Annie?"

"Dinna mourn tae the brakin’ o’ yir hert, Tammas," she said, "as if Annie an’ you hed never luved. Neither death nor time can pairt them that luve; there’s naethin’ in a’ the warld sae strong as luve. If Annie gaes frae the sicht o’ yir een she ‘ill come the nearer tae yir hert. She wants tae see ye, and tae hear ye say that ye ‘ill never forget her nicht nor day till ye meet in the land where there’s nae pairtin’. Oh, a’ ken what a’m sayin’, for it’s five year noo sin’ George gied awa, an’ he's mair wi’ me noo than when he wes in Edinboro’ and I wes in Drumtochty."

"Are ye meanin’ it, Drumsheugh?" and MacLure turned white below the tan.

"William MacLure," said Drumsheugh, in one of the few confidences that ever broke the Drumtochty reserve, "a'm a lonely man, wi’ naebody o’ ma am blude tae care for me liv-in’, or tae lift me intae ma coffin when a’m deid.

"A’ fecht awa at Muirtown market for an extra pund on a beast, or a shillin’ on the quarter o’ barley, an’ what’s the gude o’t? Burnbrae gaes aff tae get a goon for his wife or a buke for his college laddie, an’ Lachlan Campbell ‘ill no leave the place noo withoot a ribbon for Flora.

"Ilka man in the Kildrummie train has some bit fairin’ in his pooch for the fouk at hame that he’s bocht wi’ the siller he won.

"But there’s naebody tae be lookin’ oot for me, an’ comin’ doon the road tae meet me, and daffin’ (joking) wi’ me aboot their f airing, or feeling ma pockets. Ou ay, a’ve seen it a’ at ither hooses, though they tried tae hide it frae me for fear a’ wud lauch at them. Me lauch, wi’ ma cauld, empty hame!

"Yir the only man kens, Weelum, that I aince luved the noblest wumman in the glen or onywhere, an’ a’ luve her still, but wi’ anither luve noo.

"She hed given her heart tae anither, or a’ve thocht a’ micht hae won her, though nae man be worthy o’ sic a gift. Ma hert turned tae bitterness, but that passed awa beside the brier bush whar George Hoo lay yon sad simmer time. Some day a’ll tell ye ma story, Weelum, for you an’ me are auld freends, and will be till we dee."

MacLure felt beneath the table for Drumsheugh’s hand, but neither man looked at the other.

"Weel, a’ we can dae noo, Weelum, gin we haena mickle brichtness in oar am hames, is tae keep the licht frae gaein’ cot in anither hoose. Write the telegram, man, and Sandy ‘ill send it aff frae Kildrummie this verra nicht, and ye ‘ill hae yir man the morn."

"Yir the man a’ coonted ye, Drumsheugh, but ye ‘ill grant me a favour. Ye ‘ill lat me pay the half, bit by bit—a’ ken yir wullin’ tae dae’t a’,—but a’ haena many pleesures, an’ a’ wud like tae hae ma am share in savin’ Annie’s life."

Next morning a figure received Sir George on the Kildrummie platform, who that famous surgeon took for a gillie, but who introduced himself as "MacLure of Drumtochty." It seemed as if the East had come to meet the West when these two stood together, the one in travelling furs, handsome and distinguished, with his strong, cultured face and carriage of authority, a characteristic type of his profession; and the other more marvellously dressed than ever, for Drumsheugh’s topcoat had been forced upon him for the occasion, his face and neck one redness with the bitter cold; rough and ungainly, yet not without some signs of power in his eye and voice, the most heroic type of his noble profession. MacLure compassed the precious arrival with observances till he was securely seated in Drumsheugh’s dogcart—a vehicle that lent itself to history—with two full-sized plaids added to his equipment— Drumsheugh and Hilloeks had both been requisitioned—and MacLure wrapped another plaid round a leather case, which was placed below the seat with such reverence as might be given to the Queen’s regalia. Peter attended their departure full of interest, and as soon as they were in the fir woods MacLure explained that it would be an eventful journey.

"It’s a’ richt in here, for the wind disna get at the snaw, but the drifts are deep in the Glen, and th’ill be some engineerin’ afore we get tae oor destination."

Four times they left the road and took their way over fields, twice they forced a passage through a slap in a dyke, thrice they used gaps in the paling which MacLure had made on his downward journey.

"A’ seleckit the road this mornin’, an’ a ken the depth tae an inch; we ‘ill get through this steadin’ here tae the main road, but oor worst job ‘ill be crossin’ the Tochty.

"Ye see the bridge hes been shakin’ wi’ this winter’s flood, and we daurna venture on it, sae we hey tae ford, and the snaw’s been melting up Urtach way. There’s nae doot the water’s gey big, an’ it’s threatenin’ tae rise, but we ‘ill win through wi’ a warstle.

"It micht be safer tae lift the instruments oot o’ reach o’ the water; wud ye mind haddin’ them on yir knee till we’re ower, an’ keep firm in yir seat in case we come on a stane in the bed o’ the river."

By this time they had come to the edge, and it was not a cheering sight. The Tochty had spread out over the meadows, and while they waited they could see it cover another two inches on the trunk of a tree. There are summer floods, when the water is brown and flecked with foam, but this was a winter flood, which is black and sullen, and runs in the centre with a strong, fierce, silent current. Upon the opposite side Hillocks stood to give directions, as the ford was on his land, and none knew the Tochty better in all its ways.

They passed through the shallow water without mishap, save when the wheel struck a hidden stone or fell suddenly into a rut; but when they neared the body of the river MacLure halted, to give Jess a minute’s breathing.

"It ‘ill tak ye a’ yir time, lass, an’ a’ wud raither be on yir back; but ye never failed me yet, and a wumman’s life is hangin’ on the crossin’."

With the first plunge into the bed of the stream the water rose to the axles, and then it crept up to the shafts, so that the surgeon could feel it lapping in about his feet, while the dogcart began to quiver, and it seemed as if it were to be carried away. Sir George was as brave as most men, but he had never forded a Highland river in flood, and the mass of black water racing past beneath, before, behind him, affected his imagination and shook his nerves. He rose from his seat and ordered MacLure to turn back, declaring that he would be condemned utterly and eternally if he allowed himself to be drowned for any person.

"Sit doon," thundered MacLure; "condemned ye will be suner or later gin ye shirk yir duty, but through the water ye gang the day."

Jess trailed her feet along the ground with cunning art, and held her shoulder against the stream; MacLure leant forward in his seat, a rein in each hand, and his eyes fixed on Hillocks, who was now standing up to the waist in the water, shouting directions and cheering on horse and driver.

"Haud tae the richt, doctor; there’s a hole yonder. Keep oot o’t for ony sake. That’s it; yir daein’ fine. Steady, man, steady. Yir at the deepest; sit heavy in yir seats. Up the channel noo, an’ ye ‘ill be oct c’ the swirl. Weel dune, Jess, weel dune, auld mare! Mak straicht for me, doctor, an’ a’ll gie ye the road cot. Ma word, ye’ve dune yir best, baith o’ ye this mornin’," cried Hillocks, splashing up to the dogcart, now in the shallows.

"Sail, it wes titch an’ go for a meenut in the middle; a Hielan’ ford is a kittle (hazardous) road in the snaw time, but ye’re safe noo.

"Gude luck tae ye up at Westerton, sir; nane but a richthearted man wud hae riskit the Tochty in flood. Ye’re boond tae succeed aifter sic a graund beginnin’," for it had spread already that a famous surgeon had come to do his best for Annie, Tammas Mitchell’s wife.

Two hours later MacLure came out from Annie~ s room and laid hold of Tammas, a heap of speechless misery by the kitchen fire, and carried him off to the barn, and spread some corn on the threshing floor and thrust a flail into his hands.

"Nec we’ve tae begin, an’ we ‘ill no’ be dune for an’ oor, and ye’ve tae lay on withoot stoppin’ till a’ come for ye, an’ a'll shut the door tae haud in the noise, an’ keep yir dog beside ye, for there maunna be a cheep for Annie’s sake."

"A’ll dae onything ye want me, but if—if "

"A’ll come for ye, Tammas, gin there be danger; but what are ye feared for wi’ the Queen’s am surgeon here?"

It seemed twelve hours instead of one when the door swung back, and MacLure filled the doorway, preceded by a great burst of light, for the sun had arisen on the snow. His face was as tidings of great joy.

"A’ never saw the marrow o’t, Tammas, an’ a’ll never see the like again; it’s a’ ower, man, without a hitch frae beginnm’ tae end, and she’s fa’in’ asleep as fine as ye like."

"Dis he think Annie ... ‘ill live?"

"Of coorse he dis, and be aboot the hoose inside a month; that’s the gude o’ bein’ a clean-bluided, weel-livin’

"Preserve ye, man, what’s wrang wi’ ye? it’s a mercy a’ keppit ye, or we wud hey hed anither job for Sir George.

"Ye’re a’ richt floe; sit doon on the strae. A’Il come back in a while, an’ ye ‘ill see Annie juist for a meenut, but ye maunna say a word."

Marget took him in and let him kneel by Annie’s bedside.

He said nothing then or afterwards, for speech came only once in his lifetime to Tammas, but Annie whispered, "Ma am dear man."

When the doctor placed the precious bag beside Sir George in our solitary first next morning, he laid a cheque beside it and was about to leave.

"No, no," said the great man. "Mrs Macfadyen and I were on the gossip last night, and I know the whole story about you and your friend.

"You have some right to call me a coward, but I’ll never let you count me a mean, miserly rascal," and the cheque with Drumsheugh’s painful writing fell in fifty pieces on the floor. As the train began to move, a voice from the first called so that all in the station heard.

"Give ‘s another shake of your hand, MacLure; I’m proud to have met you; you are an honour to our profession"

Click here to listen to this in Real Audio read by Marilyn P Wright

In the midst of the World Cup 2006, East Fife have restarted training and The Flag’s own contributor,  football expert and East Fife season-ticket holder 10-year-old Caitlin Wallace is keen to help new manager David Baikie with some helpful advice!

 
"Now lads, this is a ba'.  You kick ba'.  Next slide please."