When the English nobles first infiltrated Scotland they were amazed to see how easily and frequently the Scottish men were able to gather and socialize without the company of women. One noble was desperate to escape the nagging clutches of his demanding wife. He sent his servant out to learn the Scots secret, forbidding to let him return without it.
The servant hid amongst a clump of gorse in the center of a field the Scots frequented. He strained his ears, hoping to hear the secret revealed. Every afternoon, the Scotsmen gathered, laughing and joking and in general having a good time. But the poor servant couldn't understand a word of Gaelic and after two weeks of gorse needles pricking him all over he gave up and returned to his master.
The whole way home he pondered what he would tell his lord, a feared of admitting his failure. Just as he reached the castle gate the answer came and a new game was invented:
Gentlemen Only, Ladies Forbidden. . . .
and thus the word GOLF entered into the English language.
Why did knights ride stallions?
The alternative would have been a nightmare.
In an ancient monastery in a faraway place, a new monk arrived to join his brothers in copying books and scrolls in the monastery's scriptorium.
He was assigned to be a replicator of books that had already been copied by the other monks.
One day, he asked Father Florian (the rather ancient head of the scriptorium), "Does not the copying by hand of other copies allow for error? How do we know we are not copying the mistakes of someone else? Are they ever checked against the original?"
Fr. Florian was taken aback by the observation of this youthful monk. "A very good point, my son. I will take one of the latest books down to the vault and compare it against the original. Fr. Florian went down to the vault and began his verification.
After a day had passed, the monks began to worry and went down looking for the old priest. They were sure something must have happened. As they approached the vault, they heard crying.
When they opened the door, they found Fr. Florian sobbing over the new copy and the original ancient book, both of which were opened before him on the table. It was obvious to all that the poor man had been crying his heart out for a long time.
"What is the problem, Reverend Father?" asked one of the monks.
"Oh, my God, my God," sobbed the priest. "In the ancient book of the sacred rites of priesthood... the word is "CELEBRATE" !!!
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