An anecdote on the fringes of being forgotten, remembered here from Summer 1892.
An Irish Gardener was working in the garden of the minister in Blantyre, hard work because of the heat of the midday summer sun. The servant girl noticing him outside, lifted the kitchen window and shouted across, “Would you like a drink of beer , Terence?” Terence at once threw down his spade and walked over to the house, smacking his lips.
‘Ah’m dootin’ the beers no very brisk”, said the young woman apologetically. “Or ah’ve no poured it richt?”, she continued.
Terence looks at the beer. “Aye, dead it is“, he said taking the tumbler in his hand. “Sure then Darlin’. If it’s dead, then ah’m the lad tae bury it!“…..and the beer disappeared in a gulp!
AI suitably illustrates this charming little story.
