''Some hae meat and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it;

But we hae meat, and we can eat,

And sae the Lord be thankit.''

So began our celebration of the Scottish poet Robert Burns (1759 - 1796) at the IC on Saturday night.  This has become an annual event no matter how many Scottish connections there are in the House at the time.  There will always be at least one, with Mr. C being one quarter Scottish, but this year our only other connection was in Oliver Wright who boasts one half of that fine nationality.  The Blue Room was decked with Saltire flags and bunting, the tables dressed with Scottish flags, tartan ribbons and Robbie Burns napkins as our feast of Scottish food began.  Served by some of the staff from the school kitchen who were good enough to give up their evening for us, Mr. C solemnly intoned the Selkirk Grace in his best Scottish accent, much to the amusement of the gathering, and we all began with a starter of haggis, 'neeps and tatties' (swede and potato for those of you not in the know).  Before the main course of Scottish salmon, there was the ceremonial address to the haggis and the stabbing of the beast performed with gusto by Mr. C (some might say with disturbing enthusiasm), and a toast proposed to the haggis with (watered down!) whisky - our thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Wright for the gift of this fine beverage.  The traditional dessert of Cranachan was supplemented by the famous Scottish sweets known as Edinburgh rock and tablet.

Then began the task of clearing the room which our students accomplished quickly and efficiently, in readiness for the arrival of the girls who were to partner the boys in the next stage of our celebrations, Scottish traditional dancing.  As the girls arrived on the stairs, Oliver welcomed them with his dignified 'Address to the Ladies' in a very convincing accent and the girls came down to find their dancing partners.  Guests of honour that night were Mr. Peter Taylor and his wife Jo to whom we are greatly indebted each year, as Peter (the only man in a kilt on the night!) performs the difficult task of 'caller', the man to teach, direct and correct us in our learning of the dance steps.  Having had a practice run-through the previous night, some of our boys were already up to speed which helped greatly, but it has to be said that this year the quality of the dancing from everyone exceeded all previous years.  Even those who had been dubious about joining in had a lot of fun as we danced 'The Gay Gordons', 'The Dashing White Sergeant' and 'Strip the Willow'.  I think we were all pretty exhausted by the end of the evening but sad to see it end, and we look forward to a repeat next year. 

''Adieu, dear, amiable youth!
Your heart can ne'er be wanting!
May prudence, fortitude, and truth,
Erect your brow undaunting!
In ploughman phrase, 'God send you speed,'
Still daily to grow wiser;
And may ye better reck the rede,
Than ever did th' adviser!!''