Dan Reid

"I suppose a good hagis is out of the question," he said with a sigh. "Mutton as well for me" he stated to the serving maid "and a small bit for me mate" he added pointing to the little dog. He lifted his glass to his lips as he turned back to Ms. McKinney, listening to her story, "me ears are all yers, madam."

she run aground and

He looked thoughtfully at Ms. McKinney noting the sorrow in her eyes. "Well, me mate seems ta' like ye" he smiled softly "'twould be me pleasure ta' hear yer tale. I know how sorrow ken be a burden" he thought sadly of his lost brother. Pulling himself up by his bootstraps, he smiled again, "Tell away, dear lady. We both ken drown our sorrows in this good stout port." He ordered two more glasses of the drink and told the tapster to leave the bottle, throwing out a few guineas to curb the mans distasteful look. "Would ye be carin' for some dinner while we share our tales of woe?" he asked turning back to Ms. McKinney.

swiftly lifting her hand to his lips he replied "No, Miss McKinney, I not make it ta London much at all. A pity, that" he said with a shrug, escorting her to the bar. "I spend most of me time at sea with this wee pest o' a dog as me companion. I captain me father's merchantmen on most occasions, 'tween Aberdeen and th' continent. But now I be in search o' the man what killed me brother. That scoundrel's name be Dan Reid. The lads an' I set out after him as soon as we haird 'e was 'ere. Unfortunately, we was set upon by them damned Spaniards just afore th' storm hit us. We just made it ta' port afore the storm could send the "Reiver" ta Davy Jones. She be that tattered vessel what sets upon the shore outside o' town," a frown creased his sea ravaged face. "Lost many of me crew, fine lads them all. Only crew there be what is all Scotsman. We hired us an English master gunner though ta teach the lads ta be better shots. Only thing what saved us from them Spaniards, it was." He ordered two glasses of port from the tapster. "But enough about me," he said with a wink. "What's a fine beauty such as yerself doin' so far from the lights o' London? Not many stages 'ere I wager." He smiled again as he noticed the little dog curl up upon her skirts and prompty drop off to sleep.

an' proceed ta dunkit'

THIS IS GREAT ! What would you do?....you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice? At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. "I believe, that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child." Then he told the following story: Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?" Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps. Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning." Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect wit! h the ba ll. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball ... the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman' s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay" Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third!" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team. "That day", said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world". Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

found another cool pirate game...if you like Sid Meier's Pirates you will probably like this one it's called "Dogs of the Seas" pirate gamewww.dogsoftheseas.com

"Aye, ye may pet him...hehe...he may lick ye though...he has no manners. His name be "Mate" and I 'ave yet te learn yer name" MacCraige stated with a sly smile at the dog. "Works ever' time" he thought to himself.

hehehe....yer fightin a loosin battle there cap't.

the fires grew hotter

MacCraige smiled back at the lovely woman. "Please forgive me lack o' courtesy then" he stated with a wink Offering the lady his arm, "Please allow me ta' escort ye to the bar then, miss?..." The wee black dog at his feet gave a little bark..."Oh, where be me manners...hehe...this scoundrel at me feet be me mate." the little dog danced in a circle at the mention of his name.

they ran, willy nilly

thanks, glad to b e back...haad eleven days with no power due to ice storm...hehe

Capt MacCraige winced as he watched the young boy being struck upon the head. It was too much for him to take. Standing he approached the beautiful woman, the little dog at his heels. "Now that no way ta be treatin' a lad what has done ye a favor" he said in his rough Scottish brogue. "Come now miss an' calm yerself. Let me buy ye a dram ta' put out th' fire ye have brewin'. I be Capt. Hamish MacCraige of the "Mist Reiver"

The remainder of MacCraige's crew joined him later that afternoon. They had come dragging logs that would be hewn into boards for the repair of the "Reiver" and the work continued into the early evening. As darkness fell, MacCraige, tired and dirty, made his way into town to find comfort at the nearest tavern. The little dog followed at his heels. He entered and sat down, ordering a whiskey and a meal and with a tired sigh sat back trying to unwind the knots that pinched his tired muscles. He watched as the beautiful woman chastised the young lad who struggled with her trunk.

we even have a practicing guild in Oklahoma. The midwestern historical fencing project. We have had Bob Charron and several others in to seminar for us. Also, the Bramble School out of Springfield, MO is a great bunch of guys.

rum...so he lashed

as the storm winds abated Captain MacCraig left the confines of the church after lighting a candle for his departed brother. He made his way down the beach with the little dog in tow to see what the storm had left of his precious ship. The storm had washed her further up the beach and she lay listing hard to larboard. Her mizzen was dangling from the rigging and all the sails were missing. She was a real wreck. He noticed the footprints of his crew leading from the jungle and was dismayed to find so few imprints upon the sand. He knew they would return again soon. "At least some o' the lads survived the blow" he stated to the little dog who looked up at him expectantly and then wandered off to inspect the nearby beach. MacCraig grabbed a dangling line and hoisted himself to the slanted deck. With a tired sigh, he removed his coat and began the arduous task of clearing the wreckage from the deck. He noted sadly that it would take many months work to make the "Reiver" sea worthy again.

my favorite be the undead monkey....

with a cutlass waving

he dropped his shorts

his rosy red bum :angry:

he would then bite

have we decided on how time is going to operate in PR?

he tipped back his