Fine tune, I do believe. And I am like to hear no finer!

More port, good friends? I have several more bottles before I am done.

"She was in a flowry' garden when first she caught my eye, And I was a passing soldier, she smiled as I passed by. The flowers she held were fresh and fair, and her lips were full and red. And as I passed that shady bower, these were the words she said;

Last night we spoke of love, and now we're forced to part, Y' leave to the sound of a marching drum, and the beat of a lover's heart."

There was a fair maid I knew in the homeland. Dark of hair and eye, but pure honey in her soul. By all the powers, I wish I could see her now!

Sergeant! Are you a sportin' man? I've a few bits of cards about me, and a sure hand at the pasteboards is a lonely thing in these parts.

(Michael MacLeod produces a well worn deck, and begins to shuffle.)

Mikal