К грядущему

Some years ago, a Black Watch Soldier, in full dress uniform, marches into a pharmacy.
Very carefully he opens his sporran and pulls out a neatly folded cotton handkerchief, unfolds it to reveal a smaller silk square, which he also unfolds to reveal a condom. The condom has a number of patches on it.
The chemist holds it up and eyes it critically.
"Hoo much tae repair it?" The Soldier asks the chemist.
"Sixpence," says the chemist.
"Hoo much fur a new ane?"
"A shilling'," says the chemist.
The soldier painstakingly folds the condom into the silk square and the cotton hankie, replaces it carefully in his sporran, and marches out of the door, shoulders back and kilt swinging.
A moment or two later the chemist hears a great shout go up outside, followed by an even greater shout.
The soldier marches back into the chemist's, this time with a grin on his face.
"The regiment’s ta'en a vote," he says, "We'll hae a new ane."

утащено у