More items from 30 years ago
■ There’s a moose loose aboot the ‘Burroo’. It appeared during a hectic morning last week. The wee mouse was soon scooped up – with no questions about signing on – and put in a carrier bag. Then it was taken, gently, along the High Street and set free around the Old Fort.
■ Occasionally in this column, a few verses – either homespun or contributed – make an appearance. Here’s an offering by Tam Briseach: It’s titled The Oracle, or That Blinking Bank Machine Again: Each weekend the faithful wend their way, Towards their favourite shrine within the town. And secret rites perform without delay, Which hearten some but make a fair few frown. A talisman appears to be the key, Which operates the Oracle’s replies. And soon the apprehensive devotee Will learn if fortune favours or denies. But recently the Sphinx is growing fickle, Which customers don’t consider funny. And clients are heard to say, I’m in a pickle – This thing’s broken down again – and I’ve no money.