Horace and Herby were brothers
Who lived in a castle at Fife;
Each was exceedingly greedy
And neither had need of a wife.

Horace was moody and grumpy,
Herby was boastful and bold
They seldom went out of their castle
As each was afraid of the cold.

They argued together at breakfast
Debating on who had the most.
Horace would weigh out the porridge:
Herby would measure the toast.

'Fat hippo ye are,' bellowed Herby,
'Yer manners are quite a disgrace!'
And taking a spoonful of porridge
Flicked it in Horace's face.

'Upstart and devil,' roared Horace
'This pancake's for you Herby dear -
I know ye adore them with treacle
And served with a whack round the ear.'

Horace sat flaring his nostrils
Herby started to grunt
Then Horace grabbed hold of the butter
And spread it all over his front.

As each roared revenge on the other
A knocking was heard at the door;
The caller was wee Bonny Jeanie
Who'd cycled across from the moor.

'Here are your groceries,' said Jeanie.
'Ye owe me a great deal of cash.'
'Oh MUD to the money,' they shouted.
'Give us our haggis and mash.'

The lassie started to bellow
For great was her fear of the pair.
She shook from her blue fluffy slippers
To the roots of her curly brown hair.

Dropping the bags in confusion
Jeanie remounted her bike
And rode to report to her husband
A hippo called Angus MacKike.

'We'll feed our wee faces,' roared Herby
As Jeanie awayed down the street
And each stuffed his fat greedy tummy
Till each had lost sight of his feet...

Angus, meanwhile in his kitchen
Sat sipping a bucket of tea
As Jeanie blew in with the story
And draped herself over his knee.

'Control yourself lass!' shouted Angus.
'I'm knowing what has to be done
Away off my knee Bonny Jeanie
Ye feel like a couple of ton.'

Making his way to the garden
He dug with lightning speed
Vowing revenge on the brothers
And plotting his terrible deed.

After the digging was over
Angus went quietly to bed
Whispering his secret to Jeanie
Who roared at the top of her head.

Later next day came the message:
The brothers wanted MORE food
But wouldn't be paying till Christmas
As neither felt in the mood.

Angus agreed most politely
And rode to the castle post-haste
With packages tied to his shoulders
And Jeanie behind with a case.

Putting them all on the doorstep
The plotters hid by a tree
Dancing around in a frenzy
Both in hysterical glee.

'It's terribly easy,' laughed Herby
'That Angus Mackike is a twit!'
And Horace fell about senseless
While Herby went into a fit....

Arm in arm danced the brothers
Making a terrible din
Dribbling all over their napkins
And wiping each other's chin.

'It's good Dundee cake!' shouted Horace
'Oh let me be having a sniff -
Or maybe a grand juicy Haggis
I just caught a succulent whiff.'

Ripping and tearing the parcels
They each gagged in startled surprise:
For nestled in glistening black icing
Sat hundreds of vile smelling pies...

'How gross of me,' Angus mumbled
As the brothers turned green from the smell...
'I knew I'd find use for it someday
That mud at the bottom of well.'

by Sylvia Creche

Author of the Mervyn Mouse Books