He’s aye been an affa stravaigin’ kinna loonie! Ilka mornin’ he’s awa’ on ee haik somewye or anither! Ach, weel, he aye comes hame fan he’s hung’ert! He’s a noticin’ kinna craiter an’ a’. Files in a forenicht, he’ll tell o’ the ferlies he’s seen that day! Ae day he gaed awa’ t’watch ee soldiers drillin’, mairchin’ wi’ their “eagle” as they ca’ the standard thing ee mannie in front cairries. I wisna weel suitet wi’ that proteck, an’ I telt him tae bide awa’ fae they Romans, an’ stick tae his ain fowk!
Anither day I min’ he cam hame wi’ a great lagamachie aboot an auld mannie he hid seen, dancin’ in ee road! Awa’, I telt him, ee’re makkin’ that up! Bit he said na, he wisna’. Es auld mannie wis comin’ alang, dancin’ an’ skippin’, and singin’ till hissel’.
“He lookit that comic, Mam, wi’ his leggies like spurdies, an’ him skippin’ aboot, wi’ a great big smile on his face! I speirt at him fit wis adee, an’ he telt me that noo he cwid walk again. He hid been telt tae row up e mattrass he aye sat on, and get aff his hurdies an’ walk like a’body else, sae he did jist that! He wis fair kinechtit wi’ hissel’, and wi’ a jiner-mannie fae Nazareth, he said, fa wis jist an ordinary chiel, bit cwid dae maist extra-ordinary things!”

Noo wisna’ that a droll story for my loonie tae came awa’ wi’? An’ I thocht I hid heard a’thing, till yestreen. Wait ere I tell ye aboot yestreen. The loonie wis rarin’ to g’wa on ain o’ his haiks. Sae I gied him a piece-denner an’ telt him “Nae Romans, noo!” And awa’ he gied, as joco as ye like. I nivver saw him again till nearhan’ derk, an’ I wis getting’ fair in a state. Bit hame he comes at last, lookin’ maist affa cheery. “Hiv ye hid a gran’ day, loonie,” I speired. An’ he said, “Oh Mither! Sic a day! Jist sit doon an’ listen, till I tell ye a’ aboot it!”

“Fan I gaed oot the day, sic a mineer o’ fowk wis walking doon ee road! Ho,ho, I thocht, something’s gyan on here! Sae I jist traivelled wi’ the lave! On an’ on we traipsed, an’ aye the crood got bigger an’ bigger! Syne, fan we cam tae a grassy kinna place, a’man sat doon, an’ oot in front, there wis a chiel stannin’. I speired at a wifie fa’ he wis, bit she jist said “Wheest! Listen tae the Maister!” Bit a v’ice ahin’ me whispered “That’s the jiner frae Nazareth. Noo, haud yer tongue!”
Oh, Mam! I wish I cwid tell ye a’ the stories he telt! An’ a’ the fowk he helped! I cwid hardly tak’ it in! A’ day we sat, like we wis under a spell!
Syne, afore ee sun begood tae disappear, fowk stairted tae get restless, an’ spikkin’ aboot gyan tae get maet, an’ foo hungert a’body must be. Syne I min’d on the piece- denner I hid! I tugged at ee robe o’ a tall mannie, fa seemed tae be a kinna heid-bummer, an’ I gied him the wee suppie food I hid, jist twa-three safties, an’ yon sardines. I telt him he cwid gie it tae some puir body, an’ I wid get supper fin I gaed hame. Bit he smiled sae kindly at me, an’ took it up tae the jiner-mannie. Jesus, the fowk ca’ed him. He took it in his han’ an’ spoke a prayer ower it, an’ telt his freens tae “feed the people”. Weel, that winna ging far! I thocht. Bit aifter that, a’body pulled oot fit food they hid, and a’body had something tae gie tae ithers! Ae mannie got ain o’ my safties, and gied me the biggest juiciest fig I’ve ivver seen! Honest, Ma, the juice wis rinnin’ doon ma chin! An’ a young wifie neist tae me burst oot laughin’ an gied me a daud o’ her breid, wi’ honey on it! Yon turned intae the biggest picnic ye ivver sa’ in a’ yer born days! An’ by the time a’body wis deen aetin’, I wis fair stappit fu’!
An’ afore we gaed hame, a’ the breid an’ fruit an’ a’thin’ else wis gaithered up tae feed them in the village that wis maist needin’t. Wisna that nae a richt guid idea? Syne we cam’ hame. An’ Mam, ken something? The road hame didna seem near as lang as the road there! Bit noo maybe it’s beddie-time for me!”

An’ neist I kent, ee wee scampie wis soon’ an’ roon’, jist far he wis sittin’! Weel, yon wis a queer-like tale! Bit widna it be gran’ if it wis true?