Ah dunnae know what's worse, thes bludy st'rm, no bludy power, almost bein' devowered by an..um....alligatur Ah believe, ur bein' mistaken fur a boy. Again. Its understandable hoo it tends tae happen a lot though. Mah Da makes me cut mah hair, bin' mah chest, dress like a boy an' talk like a boy. Back in Scootlund, there was a mob efter him when he decided tae turn on them durin' a revolution. They vowed tae kill him an' his entire fowk, so ta hide Ah have ta be a loon. Why? Coz they ur lookin' fur a fowk wi' a twin boy an' lassie, nae twin wee boys.
Some days, Ah wish Ah could be a lassie again. Mah lang hair was mah pride an' joy, mah beloved Scottish red. But now aw that's left ay that bonnie heed ay hair is th' wee bit Ah am allowed tae keep. But, if Ah were tae become a lassie again, they main fin' our fowk. Livin' in constant danger ay discovery is hard but worth it as lang as we stay alive.
That day Ah will always min'. On th' way back from th' brewery, mah eye caught sigh ay somethin' in a dark, murky foontain. A local quine stopped tae talk tae me. Ah believe she is th' bodie that treats mah dug whenever she is sick, an' runs th' clinic. 'er nam is..uhh...Anna? Probably, though mah memory tends tae git a bit hazy at times.
"I've the nerve to push you." Ah turn aroond an' say hello tae th' quine, Anna. In mah min' Ah am wonderin', now what in th' world wold a grown hen want tae push a young "boy" intae th' foontain? Hmmph, Ah suppose not all of us are graced wi' good manners.
"My name, you know it?" Well of coorse Ah do quine, Ah make it a point tae know everyone's names. Its simply polite. She also likes tae come aroond th' pub some. She asks me what Ah am lookin' at, an' Ah tell 'er Ah believe Ah saw a crocodile down there. She 'en accuses me of drinkin' mah sailor's whiskey mah Da needs fur th' pub. How rude dae Americans git?
Ah then spot th' huge beast. Without another thought, mah whiskey cask is bein' split ower th' beasts thick skull, sae as it would hurt neither of us. Ah see all of that bonnie, amber liquid spill ower th' square's cobblestones while th' beast retreats tae its murky depths. Of course she then decided tae git smart wi' me an' correct mah mistake. "Alligatur. Spines on th' back were different. Alligatur." No wonder mah Ma was hesitant on comin' tae America, th' fowk here are all rude an' in such a hurry. But, Ah decide tae still be polite.
"Artis. You're welcome Anna. Stay safe out there eh." Ah shake 'er haind an' we part ways.
