Wry observations of rural life in north-east Scotland written in Doric by Barrowsgate.

Before the first tune at the local dance, there was always “Kissin’ Time”. Gentlemen and ladies started out sitting at opposite sides of the room but, when the fiddler took up his bow, both sides rushed towards each other. There then followed a whole range of approaches to kissing, from the bashful to the positively over-enthusiastic.