Sacred to the Memory
of
Angus McClung,
Dung Dealer of this Parish
who departed this life
26 Aug 1876.
He was born at Dunipace
and died on a lamp-post in
Main Street, St Ninians.
This Monument was erected
by the grateful Publicans
of St Ninians.
Angus McClung, was a dealer in dung,
Aye, a dealer in dung was he!
You'd see him stand, with his shovel in hand,
Where ever a horse ran free.
But when he walked into the pub,
You'd see a stampede start,
For the smell of McClung, and a pile of dung,
Could not be told apart.
Angus McClung, sold a cartload of dung,
To a farmer, way up at the Myres,
There was more stone in it, than there ever was grit,
So he used it to build up his byre.
But a problem remained, as Bert Miller explained,
"I was jist in there mulkin oor coo,
Bit I had tae retire, fur the stink in that byre,
Was that thick, ye cud cut it in two!"
Copyright David M. Stirling 2001.
OBITUARIES.
McClung, Angus. Died of shortage of breath,
26th August. No flowers or dung please.
Auld Angus McClung, by his neighbours was hung,
From the lamp-post, jist ootside his hoose.
For they'd all had enough, of the horrible guff,
That his presence, would always induce.
They were taken to court, as the papers report,
And the sentence , the judge handed doon,
"Justifiable death, for even his breath,
Was rancid, and dungie, and broon!"
Copyright David M. Stirling 2001.
McLean-McClung. At St Ninians, 25 June 1857, Mary McAree,
youngest daughter of Angus McClung and Mary McAree Crap.
Mary McAree McClung, she, who's father dealt in dung,
Could never get a man tae take her oot,
For around the girl there clung, the sickly smell of dung,
Which greatly disadvantaged her, no doubt.
To the singles bar she went, wafting out her dung-heap scent,
There she met the man, she promised she would wed.
He was handsome, he was tall, while young Mary was quite small,
And she felt her heart, go flying to her head!
As it happened, Muck McLean, earned his living digging drains,
And to him the smell of dung, was sweet as roses.
In the Chapel, they were wed, afterwards the guests were fed,
Though they all looked strange, with clothes-pins on their noses!
Copyright David M. Stirling 2001.
Esmeralda Dung, was getting married , tae Jock Heep,
An' Esmeralda made it plain, her ancient name she'd keep,
Whilst Jock too was refusing, tae change his family name,
If Esmie could be stubborn, then young Jock could be the same!
But Alick Bean, their best man spake, "Why no' jist keep the twa?
An' pit a hyphen in between, 'twill soond richt posh an' a'!"
So noo the happy pair are wed, an' baith their names they'll keep,
You'll see it in the voter's roll, the brand-new name Dung-Heep!
Copyright David M. Stirling 2001.
