AFTER making a much-enjoyed “literary passeggiata” with Rosemary Goring through the pages of the Scottish Review of Books (enclosed in The Herald, November 18) I noted the article by Kenny Macaskill (“We need to stop the witch-hunt that is afflicting politics”, The Herald, November 21) and then was rather taken by the review of Nursery Crymes by Neil Cooper (“There are grim tales as childhood’s favourites become Nursery Crymes”, The Herald, November 21).

As my head is stuffed full of nursery rhymes (blame a childhood full of books) I thought that there must be one which would point out the silliness of certain things in this petty-squabbling world. The one which came to mind was:

Resolved to have a battle,

For Tweedle-Dum said Tweedle-Dee

Had spoiled his nice new rattle.

Just then flew by a monstrous crow,

As big as a tar barrel,

Which frightened both the heroes so,

They quite forgot their quarrel.

Bring on more such “monstrous crows”; it seems that they are needed.

Thelma Edwards,

Old Comrades Hall,

Hume,

Kelso.

I WAS interested to read Neil Cooper’s article on Mischief La Bas’s Nursery Crymes. I have for some time been using sleepless nights to modernise nursery rhymes, and have suggested this ploy to friends and relations. We have now a collection of more than 30. Here are some examples:

Humpty Dumpty sat on the Wall

His close friend Dow Jones by his side.

Dow Jones gave a lurch

And they fell from their perch.

The tremor was felt worldwide.

The bourses all jammed,

And Wall Street was crammed

With medics who all scratched their head.

Dow Jones would’nt move

Till his friend should improve.

And Humpty just lay there and bled.

***

“MacFeline, MacFeline, where have you been?”

“ I’ve been down to London to visit the Queen.”

“MacFeline, MacFeline what did you there?”

“I measured the stone that’s under her chair.”

“MacFeline, MacFeline, what made you do that?”

“My dear young reporter, you know I’m a Nat.”

“MacFeline, MacFeline, so what have you planned?”

“To bring back this great stone to its native Land.”

***

Old Mother Hubbard went to her cupboard

To bring out some words and a name,

But when she got there the cupboard was bare,

Just imagine her chagrin and shame.

Old Mother Hubbard took to her bed.

But then she remembered the dog wasn’t fed.

She went to her cupboard and opened the door.

There were so many bones they fell to the floor.

I am sorry to say that Mother H swore,

And out popped some words she’d not used before.

Marianne More Gordon,

18 Inveresk Village,

Musselburgh.