"Here lies, interred beneath this sod,That sycophantish man of God,Who taught an easy way to heaven,Which to the rich was always given;If he get in, he'll look and stareTo find some out that he put there."
"Here lies, interred beneath this sod,That sycophantish man of God,Who taught an easy way to heaven,Which to the rich was always given;If he get in, he'll look and stareTo find some out that he put there."
A Variety Entertainment
There used to be a waggish ostler at one of the chief inns at Hertford, who delighted to make merry at the expense of any guests who gave themselves airs. The manner of the ostler was extremely deferential, and only those who knew him well were aware of the humor which almost always lurked beneath his civil replies to the questions put to him. One day a commercial traveler, a complete prig, who wanted to play the fine gentleman, entered the inn, and having despatched his dinner, rang the bell of the commercial room for "boots," who presently made his appearance, when the following colloquy took place:
Commercial: "Dull town, this. Any amusements, Boots?"
Boots: "Yes, sir, please, sir; Musical Conversazione over the way at the Shire Hall, sir. Half-a-crown admission, sir. Very nice, sir."
Commercial: "Ah, nice music, I dare say; I don't care for such things. Is there nothing else, Boots?"
Boots: "Yes, sir, please, sir; Popular Entertainment at Corn Exchange, admission one penny; gentlemen pay sixpence to front seats, sir, if they please, sir."
Commercial: "Intensely vulgar! Are there no other amusements in this confoundedly dull town?"
Boots: "Yes, sir, please sir; railway station at each end of the town—walk down and see the trains come in."
A Descriptive Hymn
A minister in Orkney having been asked by the Rev. Mr. Spark, minister of St. Magnus, to conduct service in his church, and also to baptize his infant daughter, gave out for singing, before the baptismal service, a portion of the fifth paraphrase, beginning:
"Assparksin quick succession rise."
"Assparksin quick succession rise."
As Mr. Spark's help-mate was a fruitful vine, and presented him with a pledge of her affection every year, the titter among the congregation was unmistakable and irresistible.
A Vigorous Translation
"What is the meaning ofex nihilo nihil fit?" asked a Highlander of a village schoolmaster.
"Weel, Donald," answered the dominie, "I dinna mind the literal translation; but it just means that ye canna tak' the breeks aff a Highland-man."
"Before the Provost!"
The magistrates of the Scottish burghs, though respectable men, are generally not the wealthiest in their respective communities. And it sometimes happens, in the case of very poor and remote burghs, that persons of a very inferior station alone can be induced to accept the uneasy dignity of the municipal chair.
An amusing story is told regarding the town of L——, in B——shire, which is generally considered as a peculiarly miserable specimen of these privileged townships. An English gentleman approaching L—— one day in a gig, his horse started at a heap of dry wood and decayed branches of trees, which a very poor-looking old man was accumulating upon the road, apparently with the intention of conveyingthem to town for sale as firewood. The stranger immediately cried to the old man, desiring him in no very civil terms, to clear the road that his horse might pass. The old man, offended at the disrespectful language of the complainant, took no notice of him, but continued to hew away at the trees.
"You old dog," the gentleman then exclaimed, "I'll have you brought before the provost, and put into prison for your disregard of the laws of the road."
"Gang to the de'il, man, wi' your provost!" the woodcutter contemptuously replied; "I'm provost mysel'."
Denominational Graves
For a short time after the disruption, an unkindly feeling existed between the ministers of the Established Church and their protesting brethren. Several "free" parishioners of Blackford, Perthshire, waited on Mr. Clark, the established minister, and requested that they might have the services of a non-Erastian sexton.
"Will you allow us, sir," said one of the deputation, "to dig our own graves?"
"Certainly, gentlemen," said Mr. Clark, "you are most welcome; and the sooner the better!"
Escaping Punishment
An active-looking boy, aged about twelve years, was brought up before Provost Baker, at the Rutherglen Burgh Court, charged with breaking into gardens and stealing fruit therefrom. The charge having been substantiated, the magistrate, addressing the juvenile offender, said in his gravest manner: "If you had a garden, and pilfering boys were to break into and steal your property, in what way would you like to have them punished?"
"Aweel, sir," replied the prisoner, "I think I would let them awa' for first time."
It is needless to add that the worthy provost was mollified, and that the little fellow was dismissed with an admonition.
Passing Remarks
"There she goes," sneered an Englishman, as a Highlander marched past in his tartans at a fair.
"There she lies," retorted Duncan, as he knocked the scorner down at a blow.
Scottish Vision and Cockney Chaff
Two sharp youths from London, while enjoying themselves among the heather in Argylshire, met with a decent-looking shepherd upon the top of a hill. They accosted him by remarking: "You have a fine view here, friend; you will be able to see a great way."
"Ou, ay, ou, ay, a ferry great way."
"Ah! you will see America from here?"
"Farther than that," said Donald.
"Ah! how's that?"
"Ou, juist wait till the mists gang awa', an' you'll see the mune!"
"The," and "The Other"
When the chief of the Scottish clan, Macnab, emigrated to Canada with a hundred clansmen, he, on arriving at Toronto, called on his namesake, the late Sir Allen, and left his card as "TheMacnab." Sir Allen returned his visit, leaving as his card, "TheotherMacnab."
"Old Clo'"
Christopher North had a great hatred of the "old clo'" men who infest the streets. Coming from his class one day, a shabby Irishman asked him in the usual confidential manner, "Any old clo', sir?"
"No;" replied the professor, imitating the whisper; "no, my dear fellow,—have you?"
Church Popularity
"How is it, John," said a minister to his man, "that you never go a message for me anywhere in the parish but you contrive to take too much spirits? People don't offermespirits when I'm making visits in the parish."
"Weel, sir," said John, "I canna precisely explainit, unless on the supposition that I'm a wee bit mair popular wi' some o' the folks maybe than you are."
Wersh Parritch and Wersh Kisses
Kirsty and Jenny, two country lassies, were supping their "parritch" from the same bicker in the harvest-field one morning.
"Hech," said Kirsty to her neighbor, "Jenny, but thae's awfu' wersh parritch!"
"'Deed are they," said Jenny, "they are that. D'ye ken what they put me in mind o'? Just o' a kiss frae a body that ye dinna like."
A Stranger in the Court of Session
The "Daft Highland Laird," a noted character in Edinburgh at the latter end of last century, one day accosted the Hon. Henry Erskine, as he was entering the Parliament House. Erskine inquired of the "laird" how he did.
"Oh, very well!" answered the laird; "but I'll tell ye what, Harry, tak' inJusticewi' ye," pointing to one of the statues over the old porch of the House; "for she has stood lang i' the outside, and it would be a treat to see her inside, like other strangers!"
Wit and Humor Under Difficulties
Sandy Gordon, the town-crier of Maybole, was a character in his way. At one period of his life he had been an auctioneer and appraiser, although his "louring drouth" interfered sadly with the business, but neither poverty nor misfortune could blunt Sandy's relish for a joke. One day, going down the street he encountered his son riding on an ass.
"Weel, Jock," quoth he, "you're a riding on your brither."
"Ay, father," rejoined the son, "I didna ken this was ane o' yours tae."
At a neighboring village he had one day sold his shoes to slake his thirst. After the transaction he was discovered seated on the roadside, gazing on his bare feet, and soliloquizing in this strain—"Step forrit, barefit Gordon, if it's no'onyou, it'sinyou."
He was once taking a walk into the country, when he met Sir David Hunter Blair.
"Where are you for to-day, Gordon?" asked the baronet.
"Sir David," rejoined the crier, with some dignity, "if I was to ask that of you, you would say I was ill-bred."
He had the misfortune once to break his leg in a drunken brawl, and a hastily constructed litter was improvised to carry him home. Still his characteristic humor did not leave him. "Canny boys," he would cry to those carrying him, "keep the funeral step; tak' care o' my pipe; let oor Jock tae the head, he's the chief mourner."
An Affectionate Aunt
A plain-spoken old Scottish lady, Mrs. Wanchope, of Nibbey, being very ill, sent for Aunt Soph and said to her: "Soph, I believe I am dying; will you be always kind to my children when I am gone?"
"Na, na; tak' yer spoilt deevils wi' ye," was the reply, "for I'll hae naething ado wi' them!"
A Discerning Fool
"Jock, how auld will ye be?" said a sage wife to daft Jock Amos one day, when talking of their ages.
"O, I dinna ken," said Jock; "it would tak' a wiser head than mine to tell you that."
"It's an unco' queer thing you dinna ken hoo auld you are," returned the woman.
"I ken weel eneuch how auld Iam," answered Jock; "but I dinna ken how auldI'll be." [24]
A Law of Nature
Principal Hill once encountered a fierce onslaught from the Rev. James Burn in the General Assembly. When Mr. Burn had concluded his attack, the professor rose, and said with a smile: "Moderator, we all know that it is most natural thatBurnsshouldrun down Hills."
The laugh was effectually raised against his opponent, whose arguments and assertions he then proceeded to demolish at his leisure.
Ingenious Remedy for Ignorance
When a former Prince of Wales was married, a Highland minister at Greenock was praying for the happiness and welfare of the royal couple. He was somewhat embarrassed as to how he should join the two names, but at length he got over it thus:
"Lord blessherroyal highness the Prince of Wales, andhisroyal highness thesheprince!"
Highland "Warldliness"
At a breakfast there was abundance of Highland cheer, towering dishes of scones, oatcakes, an enormous cheese, fish eggs and a monstrous grey-beard of whiskey ready, if required; fumes of tobacco were floating in the air, and the whole seemed an embodiment of the Highlander's grace, "Oh, gie us rivers of whiskey, chau'ders o' snuff, and tons o' tobacco, pread an' a cheese as pig as the great hill of Ben Nevis, and may our childer's childer be lords and lairds to the latest sheneration." On repeating this grace to an old hillsman of eighty, leaning on his stick, he thoughtfully answered: "Weel, it's a goot grace—a very goot grace—but it's a warldly thing!"
A Paradox
On Henry Erskine being told that Knox, who had long derived his livelihood by keeping the door of the Parliament House, had been killed by a shot from a small cannon on the king's birthday, he observed that "it was remarkable that a man should live by the civil and die by the can(n)on law."
A Sensible Lass
A Scottish gentleman, while walking in a meadow with some ladies, had the impudence to snatch a kiss from one, unperceived by the rest. She said indignantly, "Sir, I am not accustomed to such freedom."
"It will be the greater rarity, then, madam."
She flew from him, and ran towards her mother, who, alarmed at her seeming terror, inquired what was the cause.
"She has taken fright at a rash buss," said the gentleman.
"O, ye idiot," said the mother, "go back this instant."
She returned, smiling, and said, "Do't again, it's no' forbidden."
A Sad Loss
An old lady was telling her grandchildren about some trouble in Scotland, in the course of which the chief of her clan was beheaded.
"It was nae great thing of a head, bairns, to be sure," said the good lady, "but it was a sad loss to him."
Catechising
The minister called in upon the gudewife at Corset Hill one night, for the purpose of catechising her.
"What is the Lord's Supper, Peggy?" he inquired.
"'Deed, sir," said the hostel wife, more intent on matters temporal than on things spiritual, "there's nae lords come this way; but I'se tell ye what a cadger's supper is—it's just a groat; and what they leave at night they tak' awa' wi' them in their pouch in the morning."
Lord Cockburn Confounded
One day Lord Cockburn went into the Second Division of the Court of Session, but came out again very hurriedly, meeting Lord Jeffrey at the door.
"Do you see any paleness about my face, Jeffrey?" asked Cockburn.
"No," replied Jeffrey; "I hope you're well enough."
"I don't know," said the other; "but I have just heard Bolus (Lord Justice-Clerk Boyle) say: 'Ifor oneam of opinion that this case is founded on the fundamental basis of a quadrilateral contract, the four sides of which are agglutinated by adhesion!'"
"I think, Cockburn," said Jeffrey "that you had better go home."
"No Compliments"
An aged divine had occasionally to avail himself of the assistance of probationers. One day, a young man, very vain of his accomplishments as a preacher, officiated, and, on descending from the pulpit, was met by the old gentleman with extended hands. Expecting high praise, he said, "No compliments, I pray."
"Na, na, na, my young friend," said the minister, "nowadays I'm glad o' onybody!"
A Sensible Servant
A very old domestic servant of the familiar Scottish character common long ago, having offended his master extremely, was commanded to leave his service instantly.
"In troth, and that will I not," answered the domestic; "if your honor disna ken when ye hae a gude servant, I ken when I hae a gude master, and go away I will not."
On another occasion of the same nature the master said, "John, you and I shall never sleep under the same roof again", to which John replied, with muchnaivete, "Where the deil can your honor be ganging?"
A Lesson in Manners
William Martin was at one time a book auctioneer in Edinburgh. He was no great scholar, and occasionally made some humorous blunders during the exercise of his vocation. One night he made a clumsy attempt to unravel the title of a French book. A young dandy, wishing to have the laugh at Martin's expense, asked him to read the title again, as he did not quite understand him.
"Oh!" said Martin, "it's something about manners, and that's what neither you nor me has ower muckle o'."
A Magnanimous Cobbler
At a certain country election of a member of Parliament in the Highlands, the popular candidate waited on a shoemaker to solicit his vote.
"Get out of my house, sir," said the shoemaker; and the gentleman was forced to retire accordingly. The cobbler, however, followed him and called him back, saying, "You turned me off from your estate, sir, and I was determined to turn you out of my house; but for all that, I'll give you my vote."
How Greyhounds are Produced
At a certain mansion, notorious for its scanty fare, a gentleman was inquiring of the gardener about a dog which he had given to the laird some time before. The gardener showed him a lank greyhound, on which the gentleman said: "No, no; the dog I gave your master was a mastiff, not a greyhound"; to which the gardener quietly answered:
"Indeed, sir, ony dog would soon be turned into a greyhound if it stoppit lang here."
Vanity Scathingly Reproved
Burns was dining with Maxwell of Terraughty, when one of the guests chose to talk of the dukes and earls with whom he had drank or dined, till the host and others got tired of him. Burns, however, silenced him with an epigram:
"What of earls, with whom you have supped?And of dukes, that you dined with yestreen?Lord! a louse, sir, is still but a louse,Though it crawls on the curls of a queen."
"What of earls, with whom you have supped?And of dukes, that you dined with yestreen?Lord! a louse, sir, is still but a louse,Though it crawls on the curls of a queen."
Gratifying Industry!
In Galloway large craigs are met with having ancient writing on them. One on the farm of Knockleby has, cut deep on the upper side:
"Lift me up and I'll tell you more."
"Lift me up and I'll tell you more."
A number of people gathered to this craig, and succeeded in lifting it up, in hopes of being well repaid; but, instead of finding any gold, they found written on it:
"Lay me down as I was before."
"Lay me down as I was before."
The Force of Habit
Some years ago a Scotch gentleman, who went to London for the first time, took the uppermost story of a lodging-house, and was very much surprised to get what he thought the genteelest place of the whole at the lowest price. His friends who came to see him, in vain acquainted him with the mistake he had been guilty of.
"He ken't very weel," he said, "what gentility was; and after having lived all his life in a sixth story, he had not come to London to live upon the ground."
Significant Advice
A church in the north country which required a pastor had a beadle who took an active interest in all the proceedings taken to fill up the vacancy.
One of the candidates, after the afternoon service was over, put off his cloak in the vestry and slipped into the church, in which our worthy was just putting things to rights.
"I was just taking a look at the church," said the minister.
"Ay, tak' a guid look at it," said the beadle, "for it's no' likely ye'll ever see't again."
A "Wigging"
The Rev. Dr. Macleod (father of the late Dr. Norman Macleod) was proceeding to open a new place of worship.
As he passed slowly and gravely through the crowd gathered about the doors, an elderly man, with the peculiar kind of a wig known in that district—bright, smooth and of a reddish brown—accosted him:
"Doctor, if you please, I wish to speak to you."
"Well, Duncan," said the venerable doctor, "can ye not wait till after worship?"
"No, doctor; I must speak to you now, for it is a matter upon my conscience."
"Oh, since it is a matter of conscience, tell me what it is; but be brief, Duncan, for time presses."
"The matter is this, doctor. Ye see the clockyonder on the face of the new church? Well, there is no clock really there—nothing but the face of the clock. There is no truth in it, but only once in the twelve hours. Now it is, in my mind, very wrong, and quite against my conscience, that there should be a lie on the face of the house of the Lord."
"Duncan, I will consider the point. I am glad to see you looking so well. You are not young now; I remember you for many years; and what a fine head of hair you have still!"
"Eh, doctor, you are joking now; it is long since I have had my hair."
"Oh, Duncan, Duncan, are you going into the house of the Lord with a lie upon your head?"
This settled the question, and the doctor heard no more of the lie on the face of the clock.
A Poacher's Prayer
Jamie Hamilton, a noted poacher at Crawfordjohn, was once asked by a woman to pray for a poor old woman who was lying at the point of death.
"I canna pray," said he.
"But ye maun do't, Jamie," said the woman.
"Weel, if I maun do't, I maun do't, but I haena muckle to say," said Jamie.
Being placed beside the dying woman, the poacher, with thoughts more intent upon hares than prayers, said "O Lord, thou kens best Thyself how the case stands between Thee and auld Eppie: but sin' ye hae baith the haft and the blade in your ain hand, just guide the gully as best suits Thy ain glory and her guid. Amen!"
Could a bishop have said more in as few words?
Broader than He was Long
Mr. Dale, whose portrait figures inKay, was very short in stature, and also very stout.
Having mentioned to a friend one day that "he had slipped on the ice, and fallen all his length"—
"Be thankful, sir," was the consolatory and apt reply, "that it was not all your breadth!"
"Prayer, with Thanksgiving"
On one occasion, a clergyman eminent for his piety and simplicity of heart, but also noted for his great eccentricity of character, surprised his hearers by introducing the following passage into one of his prayers: "Oh Lord! we desire to offer our grateful thanks unto Thee for the seasonable relief which Thou has sent to the poor of this place, from thine inexhaustible storehouse in the great deep, and which every day we hear called upon our streets, 'Fine fresh herrings, sax a penny! sax a penny!'"
An Extra Shilling to Avoid a Calamity
A farmer having buried his wife, waited upon the grave-digger who had performed the necessary duties, to pay him fees. Being of a niggardly disposition, he endeavored to get the knight of the spade to abate his charges.
The patience of the latter becoming exhausted, he grasped his shovel impulsively, and, with an angry look, exclaimed: "Doon wi' another shillin', or—up she comes!" The threat had the desired effect.
Putting off a Duel and Avoiding a Quarrel
At a convivial meeting of the Golfing Society at Bruntsfield Links, Edinburgh, on one occasion, a Mr. Megget took offence at something which Mr. Braidwood, father of the lamented superintendent of the London Fire Brigade, had said. Being highly incensed, he desired the latter to follow him to the Links, and he "would do for him."
Without at all disturbing himself, Mr. Braidwood pleasantly replied: "Mr. Megget, if you will be so good as to go out to the Links, andwait till I come, I will be very much obliged to you."
This produced a general burst of laughter, in which his antagonist could not refrain from joining; and it had the effect of restoring him to good humor for the remainder of the evening.
A Test of Literary Appreciation
Dr. Ranken, of Glasgow, wrote a very ponderousHistory of France. Wishing to learn how it was appreciated by the public, he went to Stirling's Libraryincognito, and inquired "if Dr. Ranken'sHistory of Francewas in?"
Mr. Peat, the caustic librarian, curtly replied: "In! it never was out!"
Ornithology
"Pray, Lord Robertson," said a lady to that eminent lawyer at a party, "can you tell me what sort of a bird the bul-bul is?"
"I suppose, ma'am," replied the humorous judge, "it is the male of the coo-coo."
A Practical View of Matrimony
"Fat's this I hear ye're gaun to dee, Jeannie," said an Aberdeen lass to another young woman.
"Weel, Maggie, lass, I'm just gaun to marry that farm ower by there, and live wi' the bit mannie on't."
Winning the Race Instead of the Battle
When Sir John Copse fled from Dunbar, the fleetness of his horse carried him foremost, upon which a sarcastic Scotsman complimented him by saying, "Deed, sir, but ye hae won the race: win the battle wha like!"
"After You, Leddies"
Will Hamilton, the "daft man o' Ayr," was once hanging about the vicinity of a loch, which was partially frozen. Three young ladies were deliberating as to whether they should venture upon the ice, when one of them suggested that Will should be asked to walk on first. The proposal was made to him.
"Though I'm daft, I'm no' ill-bred," quickly responded Will; "after you, leddies!"
"Ursa Major"
Boswell expatiating to his father, Lord Auchinleck, on the learning and other qualities of Dr. Johnson, concluded by saying, "He is the grand luminary of our hemisphere—quite a constellation, sir."
"Ursa Major, I suppose," dryly responded the judge.
Sheridan's Pauses
A Scottish minister had visited London in the early part of the present century, and seen, among other tricks of pulpit oratory, "Sheridan's Pauses" exhibited. During his first sermon, after his return home, he took occasion at the termination of a very impassioned and highly wrought sentence or paragraph, to stop suddenly, and pause in "mute unbreathing silence."
The precentor, who had taken advantage of his immemorial privilege to sleep out the sermon, imagining, from the cessation of sound, that the discourse was actually brought to a close, started up, with some degree of agitation, and in an audible, though somewhat tremulous voice read out his usual, "Remember in prayer——"
"Hoot man!" exclaimed the good-natured orator over his head, placing at the same time his hand upon his shoulder: "hout, Jamie, man, what's the matter wi' ye the day; d'ye no ken I hae nae done yet?— That's only ane o' Sheridan's pauses, man!"
Absent in Mind, and Body, Too
The Rev. John Duncan, the Hebrew scholar, was very absent-minded, and many curious stories are told of this awkward failing.
On one occasion he had arranged to preach in a certain church a few miles from Aberdeen.
He set out on a pony in good time, but when near the end of his journey he felt a desire to take a pinch of snuff. The wind, however, blowing in his face, he turned the head of the pony round, the better to enjoy the luxury. Pocketing his snuff-box, he started the pony without again turning it in the proper direction, and did not discover his error until he found himself in Union Street, Aberdeen, at the very time he ought to have entered the pulpit seven miles off.
On another occasion he was invited to dinner at the house of a friend, and was shown into a bedroom to wash his hands.
After a long delay, as he did not appear, his friend went to the room, and, behold! there lay the professor snugly in bed, and fast asleep!
Prof. Aytoun's Courtship
After Prof. Aytoun had made proposals of marriage to Miss Emily Jane Wilson, daughter of "Christopher North," he was, as a matter of course, referred to her father. As Aytoun was uncommonly diffident, he said to her, "Emily, my dear, you must speak to him for me. I could not summon courage to speak to the professor on this subject."
"Papa is in the library," said the lady.
"Then you had better go to him," said the suitor, "and I'll wait here for you."
There being apparently no help for it, the lady proceeded to the library, and taking her father affectionately by the hand, mentioned that Aytoun had asked her in marriage. She added, "Shall I accept this offer, papa; he is so shy and diffident, that he cannot speak to you himself."
"Then we must deal tenderly with him," said the hearty old man. "I'll write my reply on a slip of paper, and pin it on your back."
"Papa's answer is on the back of my dress," said Miss Wilson, as she re-entered the drawing-room.
Turning round, the delighted swain read these words: "With the author's compliments."
A Sad Drinking Bout
The following story of an occurrence at one of the drinking bouts in Scotland, at which the Laird of Garscadden took his last draught, has often been told, but it will bear repetition. The scene occurred in the wee clachan of Law, where a considerable number of Kilpatrick lairds had congregated for the ostensible purpose of talking over some parish business. And well they talked and better drank, when one of them, about the dawn of the morning, fixing his eye on Garscadden, remarked that he was "looking unco' gash."
Upon which the Laird of Kilmardinny coolly replied, "Deil mean him, since he has been wi' his Maker these twa hours! I saw him step awa', but I dinna like to disturb guid company!"
The following epitaph on this celebrated Bacchanalian plainly indicates that he was held in no great estimation among his neighbors:
"Beneath this stane lies auld Garscad,Wha lived a neighbor very bad;Now, how he finds and how he fares,The deil ane kens, and deil ane cares."
"Beneath this stane lies auld Garscad,Wha lived a neighbor very bad;Now, how he finds and how he fares,The deil ane kens, and deil ane cares."
Not Surprised
Benjamin Greig, one of the last specimens of tie-wig and powder gentry, and a rich old curmudgeon to boot, one day entered the shop of Mr. Walker—better known, however, by the nickname of "Sugar Jock"—and accosting him, said, "Are you no' muckle astonished to hear that Mr. L—— has left £20,000?"
"Weel, Mr. Greig," replied "Sugar," "I wad hae been mair astonished to hear that he had ta'en it wi' him."
Greig gave a grunt and left the shop.
The Best Crap
A baby was out with its nurse, who walked it up and down a garden.
"Is't a laddie or a lassie, Jess?" asked the gardener.
"A laddie," said the maid.
"Weel," said he, "I'm glad o' that; there's ower mony lasses in the world already."
"Hech, man," said Jess, "div ye no ken there's aye maist sawn o' the best crap?"
A Marriage "Not Made in Heaven"
Watty Marshall was a simple, useless, good-for-nothing body, who somehow or other got married to a terrible shrew of a wife. Finding out that she had made a bad bargain, she resolved to have the best of it, and accordingly abused and thrashed her luckless spouse to such an extent that he, in despair, went to the minister to get unmarried.
The parson told him that he could do him no such service as marriages were made in heaven.
"Made in heaven, sir," cried Watty; "it's a lee! I was marriet i' your ain kitchen, wi' your twa servant hizzies looking on! I doubt ye hae made an awfu' mistake wi' my marriage, sir, for the muckle fire that was bleezing at the time made it look far mair like the other place! What a life I'll hae to lead, baith in this world and the next, for that blunder o' yours, minister!"
"Another Opportunity"
An old gentleman named Scott was engaged in the "affair of the '15" (the Rebellion of 1715) and with some difficulty was saved from the gallows by the intercession by the Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth. Her grace, who maintained considerable authority over her clan, sent for the object of her intercession and, warning him of the risk which he had run and the trouble she had taken on his account, wound up her lecture by intimating that, in case of such disloyalty again, he was not to expect her interest in his favor.
"An' it please your grace," said the stout old Tory, "I fear I am too old to see another opportunity."
A Night in a Coal-cellar
One night, sitting later than usual, sunk in the profundities of a great folio tome, the Rev. Dr. Wightman of Kirkmahol imagined he heard a sound in the kitchen inconsistent with the quietude and security of a manse, and so taking his candle he proceeded to investigate the cause. His foot being heard in the lobby, the housekeeper began with all earnestness to cover the fire, as if preparing for bed.
"Ye're late up to-night, Mary."
"I'm jist rakin' the fire, sir, and gaun to bed."
"That's right, Mary; I like timeous hours."
On his way back to the study he passed the coal-closet, and, turning the key, took it with him. Next morning, at an early hour, there was a rap at his bedroom door, and a request for the key to put a fire on.
"Ye're too soon up, Mary; go back to your bed yet."
Half an hour later there was another knock, and a similar request in order to prepare the breakfast.
"I don't want breakfast so soon, Mary; go back to your bed."
Another half an hour and another knock with an entreaty for the key, as it was washing day. This was enough. He rose and handed out the key saying, "go and let the man out."
Mary's sweetheart had been imprisoned all night in the coal-closet, as the minister shrewdly suspected, and, Pyramis-and-Thisbe-like, they had breathed their love to each other through the key-hole. [25]
Not Quite an Ass
James Boswell, the biographer of Dr. Johnson, was distinguished in his private life by his humor and power of repartee. He has been described as a man in whose face it was impossible at any time to look without being inclined to laugh. The following is one of his good things: As he was pleading one day at the Scotch bar before his father, Lord Auchinleck, who was at that time what is called Ordinary on the Bills (judge of cases in the first stage), the testy old senator, offended at something his son said, peevishly exclaimed: "Jamie, ye're an ass, man."
"Not exactly, my lord," answered the junior; "only a colt, the foal of an ass."
A Cute Gaoler
Before the adoption of the police act in Airdrie, a worthy named Geordie G—— had the surveillance of the town. A drunken, noisy Irishman was lodged in a cell, who caused an "awful row" by kicking at the cell-door with his heavy boots. Geordie went to the cell, and opening the door a little, said:
"Man, ye micht put aff yer buits, and I'll gie them a bit rub, so that ye'll be respectable like afore the bailie in the mornin'."
The prisoner complied with his request, and saw his mistake only when the door was closed upon him, Geordie crying out:
"Ye can kick as lang as ye like, noo."
Not Qualified to Baptize
The only amusement in which Ralph Erskine, the father of the Scottish Secession, indulged, was playing the violin. He was so great a proficient on this instrument, and so often beguiled his leisure hours with it, that the people of Dumfermline believed he composed his sermons to its tones, as a poet writes a song to a particular air. They also tell the following anecdote connected with the subject:
A poor man in one of the neighboring parishes, having a child to baptize, resolved not to employ his own clergyman, with whom he was at issue on certain points of doctrine, but to have the office performed by some minister of whose tenets fame gave a better report.
With the child in his arms, therefore, and attended by the full complement of old and young women who usually minister on such occasions, he proceeded to the manse of ——, some miles off (not that of Mr. Erskine), where he inquired if the clergyman was at home.
"Na; he's no' at hame yeenoo," answered the servant lass; "he's down the burn fishing; but I can soon cry him in."
"Ye needna gie yoursel' the trouble," replied the man, quite shocked at this account of the minister's habits; "nane o' your fishin' ministers shall bapteeze my bairn."
Off he then trudged, followed by his whole train, to the residence of another parochial clergyman, at the distance of some miles. Here, on inquiring if the minister was at home, the lass answered:
"'Deed he's no' at home the day, he's been out since sax i' the morning at the shooting. Ye needna wait, neither; for he'll be sae made out when he comes back, that he'll no' be able to say bo to a calf, let-a-be kirsen a wean!"
"Wait, lassie!" cried the man in a tone of indignant scorn; "wad I wait, d'ye think, to haud up my bairn before a minister that gangs oot at six i' the morning to shoot God's creatures? I'll awa down togude Mr. Erskine at Dumfermline; and he'll be neither out at the fishing nor shooting, I think."
The whole baptismal train then set off for Dumfermline, sure that the Father of the Secession, although not now a placed minister, would at least be engaged in no unclerical sports, to incapacitate him for performing the sacred ordinance in question.
On their arriving, however, at the house of the clergyman, which they did not do until late in the evening, the man, on rapping at the door, anticipated that he would not be at home any more than his brethren, as he heard the strains of a fiddle proceeding from the upper chamber. "The minister will not be at home," he said, with a sly smile to the girl who came to the door, "or your lad wadna be playing that gait t'ye on the fiddle."
"The ministerisat hame," quoth the girl; "mair by token, it's himsel' that's playing, honest man; he aye takes a tune at night, before he gangs to bed. Faith, there's nae lad o' mine can play that gait; it wad be something to tell if ony o' them could."
"Thatthe minister playing!" cried the man in a degree of astonishment and horror far transcending what he had expressed on either of the former occasions. "Ifhedoes this, what may the rest no' do? Weel, I fairly gie them up a'thegither. I have traveled this haill day in search o' a godly minister, and never man met wi' mair disappointment in a day's journey." "I'll tell ye what, gudewife," he added, turning to the disconsolate party behind, "we'll just awa' back to our ain minister after a'. He's no' a'thegither sound, it's true; but let him be what he likes in doctrine, deil hae me if ever I kenk him fish, shoot, or play on the fiddle a' his days!"
One Scotchman Outwitted by Another
Some years since, before the sale of game was legalized, and a present of it was thought worth the expense of carriage, an Englishman who had rented a moor within twenty miles of Aberdeen, wishing to send a ten brace box of grouse to his friends in the south, directed his gilly to procure a person to take the boxto the capital of the north, from whence the London steamer sailed. Not one, however, of the miserably poor tenants in the neighborhood could be found who would take the box for a less sum than eight shillings. This demand was thought so unreasonable, that the Englishman complained to a Scotch friend who was shooting along with him.
The Scotchman replied that "the natives always make a point of imposing as much as possible upon strangers; but," he said "if you will leave it to me, I will manage it for you; for with all their knavery, they are the simplest people under the sun."
A few days afterwards, going out shooting, they saw a man loading his cart with peats, when the Scotchman, approaching him, said, after the usual salutation—"What are you going to do with the peats?"
"I'm going to Aberdeen to sell them," was the reply.
"What do you get for them?"
"One shilling and eightpence, sir."
"Indeed! Well, I will buy them, if you will be sure to deliver them for me at Aberdeen."
"That I will, and thank you, too, sir."
All agreed, the Scotchman resumed his walk for about twenty yards, when he suddenly turned round and said: "By-the-by, I have a small box I want taken to the same place. You can place it on the top of the peats?"
"That I will, and welcome, sir."
"Well, if you will call at the lodge in the evening, I will give you the direction for the peats, and you can have the box at the same time."
He did so, and actually carried the box, and gave a load of peats for one shilling and eightpence, although neither the same man nor any of his neighbors would forward the boxalonefor less than eight shillings.
Quaint Old Edinburgh Ministers
There was wee Scotty, o' the Coogate Kirk; and a famous preacher he was at the height o' his popularity. But he was sadly bathered wi' his flock, for they kept him aye in het water.
Ae day he was preaching on Job. "My brethren," says he, "Job, in the first place, was a sairly-tried man; Job, in the second place, was an uncommonly patient man; Job, in the third place, never preached in the Coogate; fourthly and lastly, had Job preachedthere, the Lord help his patience."
At anither time, before the service began, when there was a great noise o' folk gaun into their seats, he got up in the pu'pit an' cried out—"Oh, that I could hear the pence rattle in the plate at the door wi' half the noise ye mak' wi' yer cheepin' shoon! Oh, that Paul had been here wi' a long wudden ladle! for yer coppers are strangers in a far country, an' as for yer silver an' gold—let us pray!"
An' there was Deddy Weston, wha began ane o' his Sunday morning services in this manner: "My brethren, I'll divide my discourse the day into three heads:Firstly, I'll tell ye something that I ken, an' you dinna ken.Secondly, I'll tell ye something that you ken, an' I dinna ken.Thirdly, I'll tell ye something that neither you nor me ken.Firstly, Coming ower a stile this mornin', my breeks got an unco' skreed. That's something that I ken, an' you dinna ken.Secondly, What you're gaun to gie Charlie Waddie, the tailor, for mendin' my breeks, is what you ken, an' I dinna ken.Thirdly, What Charlie Waddie's to tak' for mendin' my breeks, is what neither you nor me ken.Finally and lastly, Hand round the ladle."
An' there was Doctor Dabster, that could pit a bottle or twa under his belt, an' was neither up nor down. But an unco' bitter body was he when there was a sma' collection. Before the service began, the beadle generally handed him a slip of paper stating the amount collected. Ae day a' the siller gathered was only twa' shillin's an' ninepence; an' he couldnever get this out o' his head through the whole of his sermon.
He was aye spunkin oot noo an' then. "It's the land o' Canawn ye're thrang strivin' after," says he; "The land o' Canawn, eh?—twa an' ninepence! yes, ye're sure to gang there! I think I see ye! Nae doot ye'll think yersel's on the richt road for't. Ask yer consciences, an' see what they'll say. Ask them, an' see what they'll say. Ask them, an' whatwillthey say? I'll tell ye: 'Twa miserable shillin's an' ninepence is puir passage-money for sic a lang journey!' What? Twa-an'-ninepence! As weel micht a coo gang up a tree tail foremost, an' whistle like a superannuated mavis, as get to Canawn for that!" [26]