Piece of nonsense

THE suggestion that folk from Paisley are uncommonly thrifty reminds David Craig in Saltcoats: "In the fifties, my mother owned the Crown Hotel in Saltcoats where she used to serve lunches and high teas. As the Glasgow Fair fortnight gave way to the Paisley Fair fortnight and all the free-spending Weegies had gone home, business would take a sharp drop. My mother always remarked, 'Noo, that it's the Paisley Fair, even the seagulls will be bringin' their ain pieces'."

Chapping

OUR tales of language difficulties remind Douglas Kinnaird of the Scottish builder in London who had put a notice on the door of the building where he was working which read "Working in Back. Chap loudly." Bamboozled locals wondered who the chap was that he was referring to.

Hair raising

BIT blowy out there yesterday. A few hardy souls were wondering if they should go ahead and play a round of golf. We liked the positive response of our old chum Stewart Weir who declared: "Get out there. At least you have an excuse when shooting a 99." More mean spirited was the reader who called to say: "If you ever wondered if a colleague wore a wig, check if he suddenly took a sick day yesterday."

And a reader, noticing it was Storm Ali, said President Donald Trump would be embarrassed when the fourth storm of the season came along, and because of the alphabetical progression, was named Stormy Daniel. Sadly not true. We checked and it will actually be Storm Deirdre.

Attention seeking

READER Elaine Kent recalls, following the recent television programmes about the late Princess Margaret, that an elderly neighbour served in the Scots Guards when the princess was a little girl. Says Elaine: "The soldiers were required to stand to attention whenever a member of the Royal Family passed through the Buckingham Palace gate they were guarding, and Margaret took great delight in running back and forwards past them to make sure they did it every time."

Got his measure

LOTS of readers remember the now demolished Mally Arms on Glasgow's Eglinton Street. Mary Duncan tells us: "I worked there many years ago. I had no bartending experience and very little of drinking, and only got the job because I knew the boss. On being asked for a glass of whisky, and not knowing that was the usual term for a double, I duly placed a quarter gill on the bar. The customer said in a quite unpleasant tone, 'I asked for a glass!' to which I indignantly replied, 'It is in a glass!' They still kept me on though, and I even became, after the boss, the choice of the discerning customers to pour a perfect pint of Guinness."

Exploded

SAYS reader Gordon Smith: "Your story about Edinburgh's One o'Clock Gun reminds me of the old tale of the guy who was afflicted by terrible flatulence. He was standing at a bus stop on Princes Street just as the gun was about to go off and managed to synchronise his eruption with the thunderclap of Mons Meg. 'What was that?' asked a startled American tourist. 'Oh, that's the One o'Clock Gun" he replied. Screwing up her nose, she said, 'Good Lord, it must have hit an outhouse'."

Bedtime story

A GLASGOW reader swears he heard a woman on his bus into town the other day tell her pal that her husband had been taken into hospital. "Critical?" asked the pal. "Oh aye," replied the woman. "He's complaining about the food, the noise on the ward and the heating."