Tony Blair is being shown round a hospital, and towards the end of his visit he is taken to a ward to meet some of the patients.

He approaches one man, who has no obvious signs of injury, and asks him how he feels. The man replies:   `Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o' the pudding-race!'

Perplexed, the PM approaches the man in the next bed and asks him why he is in hospital. `Some hae meat, and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit,' says the man.

A third patient tells him: `Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie...'

Embarrassed, Mr Blair turns to the doctor accompanying him and whispers:  `What's the matter with them? Is this the psychiatric ward?'

`No,' replies the doctor. `It's the Burns unit.'

Anon.