RBWF Chronice 1985
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Robert BurnsLimited World Federation Limited www.rbwf.org.uk 1985 The digital conversion of this Burns Chronicle was sponsored by Neil McNair Burns Club of London The digital conversion service was provided by DDSR Document Scanning by permission of the Robert Burns World Federation Limited to whom all Copyright title belongs. www.DDSR.com BURNS CHRONICLE 1985 BURNS CHRONICLE AND CLUB DIRECTORY INSTITUTED 1891 FOURTH SERIES: VOLUME IX PRICE: Paper £4.00, Cloth £4. 75, (Members £3.00 and £3.50 respectively). II I CONTENTS Thomas Mcilwraith 4 From the Editor 6 Obituaries 8 Greetings from Greenock and Paisley Burns Clubs 9 Address to a Score that's Unco Guid Roy Solomon 9 1983 Burns Conference John Dodds 10 Calvinist Credo David Macaree 11 The Winnipeg Burns Monument E.R. Evans 14 Personality Parade 16 The Devil Made me do it Dr. Mary F. Stough 19 The Litigation at Lochlea Dr. John Strawhorn 22 Book Reviews J.A.M. 28 JamesSmith-'ATrustyTrojan' James L. Hempstead 33 Friars' Carse-a Memorable Visit D. Wilson Ogilvie 38 A New Burns Look-alike 39 Burns Garden Appeal Robert McKay 41 Young Burnsians 42 Schools Competition Report 1984 James Glass 50 Grandpa's flying fish G. K. Murray 52 Prayer William Graham 53 Burns and the Excise J.A.M. 54 The Browns of Kirkoswald Valerie Matthews and Jan .l:ls Curtis 55 Fause Lover Donald Gordon 60 Our Honoured Guest Archie McArthur 60 Frank McAdam-Citizen of the Year David McGregor 62 Tae a Fish Supper John Smith 63 From Nancy to Selinde Diana van Dyk 64 The Moosie's Replytae Rabbie William R. Shanks 69 The Heart of Robert Burns Johnstone G. Patrick 70 The Immortal Memory of Robert Burns ProfessorJ. A. Weir 74 Scots plan cairn to Burns Bessie Little 80 Thoughts on a Burns Night Supper! A. Chalmers 81 Sixteen Poems of Burns G. Ross Roy 82 The Glasgow Venne! Sam Gaw 92 Talking Book for the Blind 93 The Burns Federation Office Bearers 94 List of Districts 99 Annual Conference Reports, 1983 106 Club Notes 119 Numerical List of Clubs on the Roll 209 Alphabetical List of Clubs on the Roll 249 Published by the Burns Federation, Kilmarnock. Printed by Wm. Hodge & Co. Ltd, Glasgow ISBN (}307 8957 ------------------4 THOMAS MclLWRAITH A native of Ayrshire, Tom Mcilwraith was educated at Stair village school and Ayr Academy. During the Second World War he served in the Royal Air Force and the Fleet Air Arm, and is now an aircraft engineer by profession. A lifelong devotee of the Bard, he has played a prominent part in the activities of many Burns clubs in both Ayrshire and the Edinburgh area where he now resides. He became President of the Edinburgh Ayrshire Association in 1969-71 and President of the Edinburgh District Burns Club Association in 1973-5. He was Chairman of the Burns Federation Conference held in Edinburgh in 1974. His travels in the cause of Robert Burns have taken him far and wide; in 1975 he proposed 'The Lassies' at the first Moscow Burns Supper. For many years a member of the Executive of the Burns Federation, he recently succeeded George McKerrow as Convener of the Finance Committee, and was inducted as President of the Burns Federation at the Annapolis Conference. Apart from aeronautics and Burns, Tom's hobby is vintage motoring. 5 FROM THE EDITOR Last September I realised a long-felt ambition and visited the Yukon and Alaska. I can now boast of having been to every state of the Union, and all the Canadian provinces bar Newfoundland. My wife lags far behind me in this quest to cover North America, but it irked me that she had been to Alaska before me. To be sure, she did it the easy way, on a flight across the Pole from London to Auckland with a lay-over in Anchorage. I did it the hard way, by Greyhound bus north from Edmonton to Dawson Creek and then along the Alaska Highway to Whitehorse. Although it was only mid-September the temperature dropped to zero. One consolation was that the mosquitoes which, I am told, are as big as sparrows in these parts, had been vanquished by the frost. On the other hand, the last fourteen hours of the journey to Whitehorse were spent in a blizzard of horrendous scale, reducing visibility to nil and transforming the unsealed road into a quagmire. The snow stopped and the sun came out shortly after I reached the capital of the Yukon. Until about two years ago there was a railway that ran from Whitehorse across the 10,000- foot high White Pass and down into Skagway on the Alaskan coast, but the closure· of the last silver mine in that area meant that the line was no longer economic. The run by six teen-seater bus, however, was just as spectacular and the driver obligingly stopped to let us photograph the world's smallest desert (listed in the Guinness Book of Records) and a porcupine who eyed us disdainfully from a nearby tree. We had a coffee stop in Carcross, on the shores of a lake near the border with British Columbia. The village used to be called Caribou Crossing, because it was a favourite haunt of the great woodland reindeer; but the local minister discovered that his mail was frequently missent to other places of a similar name, so he prevailed on the authorities to change it. History records that his mail continued to go astray! The disused railway station at Carcross has now been converted into a museum dedicated to Robert Service, the Bard of the Yukon. Now I have been a fan of his, for as long as I have been a devotee of Burns, with the added interest that Service, though born in Preston, Lancashire, was raised in Glasgow and even attended the same school as myself. Not that the headmaster or his staff made anything of that. I have the feeling that Service was not quite 'refined' enough for them, and much more was made of another former pupil called Walter Owen who had become the Bard of the Pampas and translated vast reams of Argentinian poetry from Spanish into English. But two of Robert Service's grandchildren were among my contemporaries. Both were excellent swimmers and the elder attained some celebrity by being selected for the British team at the 1948 Olympics. In his late seventies Robert Service made a return visit to Glasgow and I remember him as an amazingly alert individual who wore his years very lightly. By that time he had been living for many years in France-in fact he settled there after the First World War and spent the greater part of his life there. I was surprised to learn that he had only spent eight years in the Yukon, at the turn of the century; but such was his literary impact on it that his memory in Canada's far north west and the coastal towns of the Alaskan panhandle is remarkably fresh to this day. His 6 rollicking ballads, peppered with larger-than-life characters like Dan McGrew and Sam McGee, Blasphemous Bill and Pious Pete, have been parodied and plagiarised, and are currently the mainstay of the Yukon's embryonic tourist industry. But Service was just as familiar with the rabelaisian humour of Lancashire (so hilariously evident in the ballad of Bessie's Boil), as with the language of the sourdough and the cheechako. Not surprisingly, in view of his upbringing, he was no mean versifier in Lallans. His best piece in this genre is 'The Haggis of Private McPhee': 'Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me? It fair maks me hamesick,' says Private McPhee. 'And whit did she send ye?' says Private McPhun, As he cockit his rifle and bleezed at a Hun. 'A haggis! A Haggis!'says Private McPhee; 'The brawest big haggis I ever did see. And think! it's the morn when fond memory turns Tae haggis and whuskey-the Birthday o' Burns. We maun find a dram; then we'll ea' in the rest O' the lads, and we'll hae a Burns' Nicht wi' the best.' To judge by my mailbag there is no shortage of bards, rhymers, poets and poetasters jostling to follow in the footsteps of the two Roberts. Last year I mentioned the embarras de richesse in the way of manuscripts, which I was then accumulating. Far from diminishing, the stockpile is rapidly approaching the proportions of an EEC 'mountain'. I now have sufficient poetic effusions, from sonnets to full-blown sagas, to fill a stout anthology (indeed, that may be one way out of the dilemma). I have a similarly growing pile of other manuscripts, all very worthy and destined to see the light of day in these pages one of these years. My feelings of frustration are almost as great as those of the anguished authors anxious to see their work in print. Mercifully, only one writer has accused me of that cavalier disregard that poor Burns himself was wont to suffer at the hands of his literary exploiters. To my contributors, past, present and future, I would counsel patience-and please, do not be deterred from submitting articles for publication. Priority tends to be given to material which is, as they say in Fleet Street, time-sensitive; but if you do not get an immediate rejection you may rest assured that your piece will get printed some day. This problem has been created and exacerbated by the Club Reports.