Sentence The Seventieth 
To the Bar of The Jolly Boatman in Gullane where we can float below the rafters; for there, squeezed into their usual corner of the booth and enjoying a preprandial drink – well, they are on their third, if truth really must be told, are Maude and Phemie, together with Daphne and Phemie's chum, Izzy Dalkeith; the four – all now firm friends – are plotting their adventures for the weekend (perhaps even the week) ahead: weather permitting, they intend to spend tomorrow on one of the Golf Links for which Gullane is rightly famous among the cognoscenti of clubs and balls; on the next day – again weather permitting – it has been agreed that Phemie shall take them on her jolly little boat The Lady's Turn, or, more commonly, just Lady, to The Bass, as Phemie said, “there to have a picnic among the sea-birds and explore the Rock, once the home of a Scottish Hermit, St Baldred, of whom it has been said that he had the gift, well, the knack, you might say, of being able to mesmerise the gulls into laying their eggs right into the palm of his hand – which is a jolly nifty little trick and beats dangling down the cliff on a rope and trying to extract them from what the birds laughingly call nests – and scrambling eggs is a lot less messy than having to pluck and eviscerate a gull; and as a member of the first family whose ownership of the Rock is recorded for over 600 years, I still have certain privileges granted by it's present owners, who bought it from the Lauders just a tad over 300 years ago” – but, in truth, Historians though they both are, Maude and Daphne were intent on leaving matters historical aside for the duration of their Honeymoon and had determined that their intention was to have 'Fun, Fun, Fun' in whatever form such 'Fun' might take and as things now stood (or sat) it was clear that it would include Phemie and Izzy; so when the time came, the bell rang, and the philandering barman indicated his intention to clear the room and get everything washed and stowed away, for he, and his buxom, blonde barmaid clearly had other fish to fry, the four friends linked arms
– as much for steadiness as camaraderie, and wound their way the short distance to Forth View, there with considerable care and effort, to quietly climb the stairs to the Honeymooners front room - “The Bride's Sweet” said Phemie, and kissed Maude on the lips, bringing a flush to her cheeks, “and The Groom's Treat,” enjoined Izzy, similarly joining her lips to Daphne's, who, extricating herself from the searching embrace and probing tongue, asked Maude to prepare the scene, then all four took their places round the green baize card-table, Daphne opened the box and, while Maude cracked and poured from a chilled bottle of Irn Bru which she generously topped up with Laphroaig Quarter Cask, Daphne dealt out the money for a game of Monopoly: The Edinburgh Edition, and in the twinkling of an eye all four were intent on the play before them and each was determined to win the prize – but who is to say Which Prize each of the four had in mind – not us, for we too have other fish to fry and so, slipping through a gap in the open window, let us cry 'Hi Ho Silver, Away'!
To the Bar of The Jolly Boatman in Gullane where we can float below the rafters; for there, squeezed into their usual corner of the booth and enjoying a preprandial drink – well, they are on their third, if truth really must be told, are Maude and Phemie, together with Daphne and Phemie's chum, Izzy Dalkeith; the four – all now firm friends – are plotting their adventures for the weekend (perhaps even the week) ahead: weather permitting, they intend to spend tomorrow on one of the Golf Links for which Gullane is rightly famous among the cognoscenti of clubs and balls; on the next day – again weather permitting – it has been agreed that Phemie shall take them on her jolly little boat The Lady's Turn, or, more commonly, just Lady, to The Bass, as Phemie said, “there to have a picnic among the sea-birds and explore the Rock, once the home of a Scottish Hermit, St Baldred, of whom it has been said that he had the gift, well, the knack, you might say, of being able to mesmerise the gulls into laying their eggs right into the palm of his hand – which is a jolly nifty little trick and beats dangling down the cliff on a rope and trying to extract them from what the birds laughingly call nests – and scrambling eggs is a lot less messy than having to pluck and eviscerate a gull; and as a member of the first family whose ownership of the Rock is recorded for over 600 years, I still have certain privileges granted by it's present owners, who bought it from the Lauders just a tad over 300 years ago” – but, in truth, Historians though they both are, Maude and Daphne were intent on leaving matters historical aside for the duration of their Honeymoon and had determined that their intention was to have 'Fun, Fun, Fun' in whatever form such 'Fun' might take and as things now stood (or sat) it was clear that it would include Phemie and Izzy; so when the time came, the bell rang, and the philandering barman indicated his intention to clear the room and get everything washed and stowed away, for he, and his buxom, blonde barmaid clearly had other fish to fry, the four friends linked arms
– as much for steadiness as camaraderie, and wound their way the short distance to Forth View, there with considerable care and effort, to quietly climb the stairs to the Honeymooners front room - “The Bride's Sweet” said Phemie, and kissed Maude on the lips, bringing a flush to her cheeks, “and The Groom's Treat,” enjoined Izzy, similarly joining her lips to Daphne's, who, extricating herself from the searching embrace and probing tongue, asked Maude to prepare the scene, then all four took their places round the green baize card-table, Daphne opened the box and, while Maude cracked and poured from a chilled bottle of Irn Bru which she generously topped up with Laphroaig Quarter Cask, Daphne dealt out the money for a game of Monopoly: The Edinburgh Edition, and in the twinkling of an eye all four were intent on the play before them and each was determined to win the prize – but who is to say Which Prize each of the four had in mind – not us, for we too have other fish to fry and so, slipping through a gap in the open window, let us cry 'Hi Ho Silver, Away'!
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