A pun is the lowest form of humor, my father used to say, but irresistible nonetheless. He’d have loved this one, which I just received from a good friend:
An English doctor was being shown around a Scottish hospital. Near the end of his visit, he saw a ward of patients with no obvious injuries.
He started to examine the first patient, but the man proclaimed:
“Fair fa’ yer honest, sonsie face / Great chieftain o’ the puddin’ race!”
The doctor, taken aback, moved on to the next patient, who immediately said,
“Some hae meat and canna eat / And some wad eat that want it.”
The next patient cried out,
“Wee sleekit cow’rin tim’rous beastie / O what a panic’s in thy breastie!”
“Well,” the English doctor muttered to his Scottish colleague, “I see you saved the psychiatric ward for last.”
“Oh, no,” said the Scottish doctor. “This is our serious Burns unit!”