BREAKING IN A THRAN PEAR

On Monday morning, I leaped out of bed, akin two the lark or the legandery blew-arsed fly.
I had a busy day in front of me, I was breaking in a knew pear of drawers for poor auld Camila McSlabber. The poor auld crater is 97 now, and her under-carriage has lost its fluiditity and suppleness. BOys, many a pear of drawers auld Camelia had broken in, her and her husband wee Camelot had a thriving business at wan thyme. Wee Camelot broke horses for ah'll the men and auld Camelia, broke in knew drawers for the weeman.
I remember when I was a young, female, cuttie, walking up the road on a sunny Sonday, and meeting men with unruly horses and weeman with brown-paper parcels under their oxters, kontaining wayward drawers.
The cubs used two watch auld Camelot breaking in the horses, but of course, they wern't allowed too watch auld Camelia, break in the drawers. It wood knot be rite, it wood knot be fitting and it could be dangerous, you never new where auld Camelia was going two kick her legs next.
Boys, auld Camelia, could kick, she used to kick the bonnet of her own head often.
I have my own way of breaking in drawers, I call it the Rosie Ryan triatalon method. First I don the drawers and let them no who is the boss, then I run, kicking and flinging for too miles, a mile up the road and a mile back, then, without stopping for a slash or a cup of water, I jump on the auld bike and repeat the procedure. Then, still without slashing or drinking, I spend too hours, bending, kicking, stooping and flinging. I do funny walks, I duck walk like Chuck Berry, I run, bent like Groucho Marks, then I take a run down the road, walking like John Cheese, you no the boy, with the funny walk? I then stand silently and motionless,if I feel the slightest resistance from the drawers, I wood take over the bog, like a wilderbeast, jumping shucks and bog wholes and letting, shrieks, gulders and yells out of me. After that, there was know more fight left in the drawers, I wood step daintly out of them and hurry off for a slash and a mug of water.
Later, that nite, as I partook of a gooses egg and the buttered heel of a pan loaf, I heard the frantic ringing of a bicycle bell. I harked my shell-like lug whole and heard some idjit roaring, "Have you got mammy's drawers? Is Mammy's drawers ready? Have you got mammy's drawers? The priest is coming over and mammy needs her-drawers. Have you got mammy's drawers.
It was auld Camelia's eldest sun Avana,the cub must be 70 new if hes a day. I ran out yelling, "Keep your voice down, how dare you come round here yelling about drawers, don't you no that Clougher is full of nicker nickers?" I put the drawers on the carrier and the idjit rode off yelling, "MAMMY, I've got your drawers" It was a difficult birth I heard, knot only were they at him with forceps,it took spoons, shoe-horns and a midwife pulling on a rope that they had round his ears. Hes a bit--you-no-thick. What in under God wool happen that cub when his mammy dies?
He kan barely tell his arse from his elbow. I wonder wood it be two late for a-late vocation?
The church looks after its own and I wood say, he wouldn't be two hard on the auld-penance.