The Health Secretary was being shown round a hospital. In one room he saw three poor souls gibbering apparent nonsense. "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley," one said. "0, wad some power the giftie gie us to see oursels as ithers see us," said a second. "Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie," added the third.
The health secretary asked what affliction they had, to which the consultant replied: "Oh, this is our Burns Unit."
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