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Dougie McLaren
The Story| Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4 |
sporran. In it were shortbread biscuits and a drop of good Scotch Whisky!  It was the saving of them! While Rascal diverted the Midges' attention, I led the hikers down the hill to safety. And on the way
I fell to thinking... those who do not wear the kilt can never know the blessings of the sporran! A Treasure Trove it is! An unobtrusive place to carry a wee dram without embarrassing the wife, the Minister, or the more disapproving spinsters of the parish! And so 'The McLaren' range of underwear was born, which is of course now legendary in these parts! Boxer Shorts with a discreet wee pocket for a whisky flask, inspired by the prudence and practicality of the simple sporran. For those who do not wear the kilt and so need the shorts," Dougie grinned. " I hear even The Minister has a pair!" This was the last straw for the sceptical Mr Robertson. "My word, McLaren," he gasped. "your Scottish Midge sounds worse than the 'Millennium Bug' we're all so frightened of! Nothing will be safe from it. Computers will crash. Communications fail.
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With no heating, lighting, or transport, the food shortages could be appalling! Yet everyone will be far too busy celebrating the New Millennium to do anything about it!" "Fancy that!" said Dougie. He spent the rest of
the journey deep in thought. Impossible though it seemed, the Robertsons had silenced The McLaren! Dougie steered towards a well-lit wooden jetty where a figure waited to guide them in. "This is Peter, my cousin," he said, as strong hands helped the Robertsons from the boat. "It's a wee walk up that path to the castle." Before they could even thank him Dougie turned the boat and set off again across the Loch. "Should we have given him something?" wondered Mrs. Robertson. Peter shook his head. "You would only have offended him. Dougie's generosity is legendary in these parts!" Mr Robertson scoffed. "Oh, Not another legend, please! We've heard this legend, that legend, 
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