This one’s for Phil. An inside joke for a Red October. Ask us at Boomershoot 2012 if you want the backstory — that’s if he wants to tell it. From John Buchan’s Huntingtower:
To Dickson’s surprise Dougal seemed to be in good spirits. He began to sing to a hymn tune a strange ditty:
“Class-conscious we are, and class-conscious wull be / Till our fit’s on the neck o’ the Boorjoyzee.”
“What on earth are you singing?” Dickson inquired.
Dougal grinned.
“Wee Jaikie went to a Socialist Sunday School last winter because he heard they were for fechtin’ battles. Ay, and they telled him he was to join a thing called an International, and Jaikie thought it was a footba’ club. But when he fund out there was no magic lantern or swaree at Christmas he gie’d it the chuck. They learned him a heap o’ queer songs. That’s one.”
“What does the last word mean?”
“I don’t ken. Jaikie thought it was some kind of a draigon.”