Dunderheid.

by Bruce Clark Dick
(Forfar Angus Scotland)

“Dunderheid, dinae kick open that door
Ye’ve skelt a the schuil books,
A ower the floor.”

“Nou pick them up neatly, an nae mair o that,
Go an stand in the corner,
An aye, pit on thon tall pointy hat.
Staund richt up in the corner
Well oot o yer pals reach,
I’ve students, an scholars
Crying oot fir me to teach.”

“Ye’ve stuid ther fir an oor
So come on in, an sit doun.
Not at the back o the classroom
At the front, ye wee buffoon”

“So that yer in ma vision
An I can keep ma eye on you,
While we’re daein logarithms
You’ll do the two times two”.

Thirty years hae passed, since I last see’d that lad
For a dunderheid, he hasnae done bad.
His best pal Wullie’s, a blacksmith ,
An bonnie Jeanies’s she’s a braw wee seamster,
Wha thocht that the dunderheid, wid go and mak Prime Meenster.


Bruce Clark Dick.