In The Graveyard

Wandering round the graveyard, as I often do, searching for a spot to rest my weary bones, I found a conifer and, under it, a collection of empty bottles with a couple of cans.

What did this signify? Had gentlemen of the street congregated in the graveyard to empty these bottles and cans? Perhaps, though I have never seen anything like this on any of my previous visits.

So what was going on? In the old days, I could have issued an invitation along the lines Answers on a postcard please, but these days are long gone.

For those on the lookout for such things, I realise that there are also gentlewomen of the street, but in our area they are greatly outnumbered by men, though for those women who have fallen on hard pavements or times, we are fortunate to have here in Edinburgh the Indigent Gentlewomen’s Fund.

But be advised, ladies, that you should form an orderly queue. And to Jock McSporran of Leith, who sought my advice on this subject, I should just like to say that no, if you decide to self-identify as a woman to progress your application to the fund you will not be deemed eligible.

Nice try, though.

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