While M.C.ing events in NYC, and the Catskill Mountains (1940’s to 1980’s) - even some years in a retirement home on Long Island - my Scottish-born grandpa sang Scottish songs, told Scottish jokes (and Irish) and repeated a bit of Burns here and there, all while dressed in his plaid suit (in which he was buried - dang - thought I was going to acquire it).
His Scottish-born son, my father, would informally recite bits of Burns now and again. I was young, and didn't pay much attention to the actual words, unfortunately - - - it was fun to just watch these men perform!