1. Robert Burns

2. January 25th

5. The Haggis
1 cleaned sheep or lamb's stomach bag 2 lbs. dry oatmeal 1 lb. chopped mutton suet 1 lb. lamb or venison liver, boiled and minced 2 cups stock sheep heart and lights, boiled and minced 1 large chopped onion 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper 1/2 tsp. allspice 1/2 tsp. salt 1/2 tsp. pepper   This is the most traditional of all Scottish dishes, eaten on Burns Night (January 25th, the birthday of Scotland's national poet, Robert Burns, ) and at Hogmanay (New Year's Eve). It is really a large round sausage; the skin being a sheep's paunch. The finest haggis of all is made with deer liver, served to the skirl of the pipes, cut open with a traditional 'sgian dubh' (black stocking knife) and accompanied by small glasses of neat Scotch whisky. This recipes dates from 1856.

6. Haggis – Mmmmm!

7. Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne ?
CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidl’d in the burn, frae morning sun till dine ; But seas between us braid hae roar’d sin’ auld lang syne.
CHORUS
And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere ! And gies a hand o’ thine ! we’ll tak a right gude-willie-waught, for auld lang syne.

8. A Red, Red Rose
O my Luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June: O my Luve's like the melodie, That's sweetly play'd in tune. As fair art thou, my bonie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; And I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve! And fare-thee-weel, a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile!   

9. Scots Wha Hae
Scots, Wha Hae. Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed Or to victorie!
Now's the day, and now's the hour: See the front o' battle lour, See approach proud Edward's power - Chains and slaverie!
Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha will fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? - Let him turn, and flee!
Wha for Scotland's King and Law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand or freeman fa', Let him follow me! By oppression's woes and pains, By your sons in servile chains, We will drain our dearest veins But they shall be free!