IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT.3) C'. :/. (/. fA ^^ 1.0 I.I 1^ 12.2 IM 1.8 •■25 1,4 1.6 ^1= == == •< 6" ► o 7 /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 14580 (716) 872-4503 iV iV ^^ \ \ ^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbole V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmis 6 des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est filmd 6 partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche 6 droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 1*. /) s^:*' i . ix-i-i— T- -f-* - •t^.i «#W-^2j; -^jk;^^ «ii** THISTLEDOWN r w ppp"^ mrn'mmi mt n Scotch folks' humour, being the common ffift of Nature to all and sundry in the land, differing only in degree, ^ips out most frequently when and where least expected. Famous specimens of it come down from our lonesome hillsides— from the cofloge and farm ingle- nooks.— Po^a .9^. Frontispiece, il I j i fi !■ I- I I i.Knou'N • / t 1 ' t I k I ' I j ; . I »M I j ; I- :Jff' , ■ ;*.'■■<:■•■ •i> •^, ..' '')-/.'^V-,JR<_,j^:5 ,;'■ ■" \;." '-i* ■■' \ ■,*'r",'V '■ '"'A " ,fV j .' ■• ■ '■ . * '■'"fr'-'^i^t-'-'^^'*^' 1 ;'j'>'. .(lwe'> ••■■.. ">- , ■ ■j,, »'■••; . J- ■ *;..! ,4'> 'fl ' . . ' ■» * ■ ' ." ■.■■;'xi. '■^^ V.^ ^^^.,-ii!'. ::)«:, »n I. 4* iK-jL'smmr I I THISTLEDOWN A HOOK OF SCOTCH HUMOUR CHARACTER, FOLK-LORE STORY & ANECDOTE * HV R O H E R r F O R I) KDITOK (ll- i;\ll Mt- 1)1 IIAlRNIIOni)," "VAGAHOND SONCS." IIC. / ; 7 T// IL l. US TRA TIONS BY JOHN DUNCAN TORONTO BELL 6^ COCKBURN FAm K» I 'i i •N- ♦» /\ *' (1 •• ^ ^ Ki-'? PREFACE A NiTniMfntlyltnrnfd ami ^rcmn.] rx-Prof;.ssor of one of our IJnn. , itiw n„t long since pointed out how Scotland wnt anjongst us in the most unlikely as well a^ in the most likely places. It blossoms in the solemn M i 1 tei m i S5V .: PREFACE assemblies of the people ; at meetings of Kirk-Sessions ; in the City and Town Council Chambers; in our Presbyteries ; our Courts of Justice ; and in the high Parliament of the Kirk itself. Famous specimens of it come down from the lonesome hillsides ; from the cottage, bothy, and farm ingle-nooks. It issues from the village inn, the smiddy, the kirkyard ; and functions of fasting and sorrow give it birth as well as occasions of feasting and mirth. It drops from the lips of the learned and the unlearned in the land ; and is not more frequently revealed in the eloquence of the University savant than in the gibberish of the hobbling village and city natural. Humorous Scottish anecdotes have been an abun- dant crop ; and collectors of them there have been not a few. Dean Ramsay''s garrulous and entertain- ing Remirmceiices, and Dr. Charles Rogers' Familiar Ilhtstrations of Scottish Life excepted, however, the published collections of our floating facetiae have been ** hotch-potch ** affairs. Revelations each of some little industry, no doubt, but few of them affording any proof of the compiler s familiarity with the subject. And as none of them have reached farther back than Dean Ramsay, and all have been content to take the more familiar of Ramsay's and Rogers'* illustrations and anecdotes, and supplement 'I PREFACE I these ill htip-hazard fashion with random chppings from the variety columns of the daily and weekly newspapers, the individual result has been such as Voltaire"'s famous criticism eloquently describes : — They have contained things both good and new ; but what was good was not new, and what was new \vas not good. To the present work the critical aphorism of the "brilliant Frenchman" may not in fairness be applied. In any attempt to afford an adequate representation of the humours of the Scottish people, illustrations must of necessity be drawn from widely different sources, and I have, consequently, to confess my indebtedness to various earlier gleaners in the same field, chiefly to Dean Ramsay, Dr. Rogers, and the genial trio, CaiTick, Motherwell, and Henderson. But for representative illustrations of Scottish life and chanicter I have gone further back and come down to a later period than any previous >vinter on ihe subject. And so, whilst the reader will discover here much that is old and good, he will find very much that is new, which, as illustrative of Scottish humour and character, will compare with the best of the old. No pointless or dubiously nationalistic anecdote or illustration has been admitted. The work has been UJ $ PREFACE cartfully and elaborately classified under eighteen distinct headings, each class, or section, being intro- duced by an exjxjsition of the pha:se or phases of liie and character to which it applies, and cemented from firet to last by reflective and expository comment. Essentially a book of humour, it is hoped that the reader will find it to be something more than a mei*ely funny book. If he does not, the writer will have failed to realize fully his aim. Robert Ford. [1891.] I •I I I ■^ "< i ,^ CONTENTS CHAPTER I., .... The Scottish Tongue-Its graphic fo«-eand powers of pathos and humour. CHAPTER II., ---... Characteristics of Scotch Humour. CHAPTER III., .... Humour of Old Scotch Divines. CHAPTER IV., .... The Pulpit and the Pew. CHAPTER v., . . . The Old Scottish Beadle -His Character and Humour. CHAPTER VI., - Humour of Scotch Precentors. CHAPTER VII., ... Humour of Dram-Drinking in Scotland. CHAPTER Vni., . . The Thistle and the Rose. 7 : PAGE 11 32 56 87 122 149 169 195 *t V.'V. p CONTENTS l*AOE CHAPTER IX., 222 Screeds o' Tartan — A Chapter of Highland Humour. CHAPTER X., 247 Humour of Scottish Poets. CHAPTER XL, 285 'Tween Bench and Bar — A Chapter of Legal Facetiae. CHAPTER XII., 31.1 Humour of Scottish Rural Life. CHAPTER XIII., 342 Humours of Scottish Superstition. CHAPTER XIV., S67 Humour of Scotch Naturals. CHAPTER XV., :i86 Jamie Fleeman, the Laird of Udny's Fool. CHAPTER XVI., - 401 " Hawkie " — A Glasgow Street Character. CHAPTER XVII., 429 The Laird o' Macnab. CHAPTER XVIII., ... - . 4.40 Kirkyard Humour. INDEX, - 455 S s I I "^ LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "'.£ Scotch folks* humour. - . . . "Plenty o' milk for a' the parritch," - "Three fauts to his sermon," "Yedidnaseem toha'ecatch'dmony." - "This wee black deev'lucJc. we ra' W^. xr , . Tron ! " - Mmufreffor o' the " I'm geyan weel on mysel', sir," - " I hae happit raony a faut o' yours," "The foxes' tails," ... "They mind their ain business." - " Can ye no show him yer Government papers ? " - " We do a' cor ain whistlin' here," - " My— my faither's below't ! " "If ye was a sheep, ye wad hae mair sense," - "Hoothedeildoyou ken whether this be the road or PAGE Frontinpieeit 35 91 98 lOfi 120 13H 168 915 322 325 326 328 335 383 M mi m J THISTLEDOWN CHAPTER I THE SCOTTISH TON'OrK — UN GHAPJIir FORCE AND POWERS OF I'ATHOS AND HUMOUR WE are frequently told — and now and again receive unwelcome scraps of evidence in con- firmation of the scandal — that our dear old mother tongue is falling into desuetude in our native land. Already, it nuist be confessed, it has been abrogated from the dra\s ing-rooms of the ultra-refined upper circles of Scottish society. The snobbish element amongst the great middle-class, ever prone to imi- tate their " bettere,"" affect not to understand it, and blush (the sillier of them) when, in an unguarded moment, a manifest Scotticism slips into their con- versation. There is a portion of the semi-educated working population, again, who, imitating the snob- bish element of the middle grade, speak Scotch freely only in their working clothes. On Sundays, and extra occasions, when dressed in their very best, there is just about as much Scotch in their talk as will show one how poorly they can speak English, and just about enough English to render their Scotch ridicu- lous. Observing all this, and taking it in conjunction » 11 [^ THISTLEDOWN ?■<■} '6rf with the other tlonationahsing teiuk'ncics of the age, there are those who pi-edict that the time is not far distant when Bunis''s poems, Scott's novels, and riogg''3 tales will be sealed Ixxjks to the partially educated Scotsman. That tluie is a gi"owing ten- dency in the direction indicated is quite true, but the disease, I believe, is only skin deep as yet, aiid the bone and sinew of the country remain quite unaffected. That there will be a sudden reaction in the patient must be the sincere desire of ever)' patriotic Scot. If the prediction of obsoletism is ever to Ixi realized, then, "the niair's the pity."" Scotland will not stand where she did. For vety much — oh, so much — of what has made her glorious among thv. nations of the world will have })assed away, taking the sheen of her glory with it. \Vliat Scotsmen, as Scotsmen, should ever prize most is bound up inseparably with the native language. Oui-s is a matured country, and the stirring scenes of her history on which the mind of the individual delights to dwell, are so frequently enshrined in spirited ballad and song, couched in the pithy Scot- tish vernacular, that, to suppose these latter dead — they are not translatable into English — is to suppose the best part of Scottish history dead and buried beyond the hope of resurrection. For its own sake alone the Scottish tongue is eminently deserving of regard — of cultivation and preservation. Scotsmen should be — and so all well-conditioned Scotsmen surely are — as proud of their native tongue as they 18 THE SCOTTISH TONGUE not far s, and irtially ig tC'll- le, but et, aiul 1 quite •cactiDii if ever)' itisin is i pity. or very glorious > passed ^Vlmt most is mguage. scenes dividual ined iu hy Scot- dead — suppose buried iwn sake rving of Icotsuieii icotsmen jis they are of their far-famed native bens and glens. For why, the rugged grandeur of the physical features of our country are not more worthy of adnii ration than the language in which their glories have been most fittingly extolled. They have characteristics in common ; for rugged grandeur is as truly a feature of the Scottish language as it is the dominant feature of Scottish scenery. Tnie, its various dialects are somewhat tantalising. The Forfar man is vividly identified by his "foo's" and his «faV and his "fat's "and his "fans"; and the Renfrewshire man by his "weans," his " wee weans," and his "yin a pound yin and yinpence," etc. Taking a simple phrase as an example — {AnffUce): — "The spoon is on the loom." The Aberdonian will tell you that "The speen's on the leeni." The Perthshire man will say " Tliat spun'*s on the luim " ; and the Glasgow citizen will inform you that "Tlie spin's on the lini." In a fuller example, a Renfrewshire person will vouch- safe the information that he " Saw aseybo synd't doou the syvor till it sank in the stank." A native of Perthshire will only about half understand what the speaker has said, and may threaten to " rax a rung frae the boggars o'' the hoose and reeshil his mmple wi't," without sending teiTor to the soul of his West country confederate. Latterly, an Aberdonian may come on the scene and ask, " Fa' fuppit the loonie.'*" and neither of the forenamed parties will at once perceive the drift of his inquiry. To illustrate how difficult it may be for the East and the West to 13 THISTLEDOWN understand eacli other, I will tell a little story. An Abcrdonian not long ago got work in Glasgow where they used a quantity of tar, and was rather annoyed to see his fellow-workmen wash the tar off their hands while he washed and rubbed at his in vain. His patience could stand it no longer, and going up to the foreman, and, stretching out his hands, he asked :—" Faf 11 tak' it aff?^ "Yes,^ replied the foreman, " fat'll tak' it aff*." « Fatll tak' it aft*? '^ " Yes, I said fat would tuk' it aft'." " Lut faai tak' it aft'?" persisted the Aberdonian. Tho foreman pointed to a tub, and roared : " Grease, you stupid eediot ! " " Weel than," retorted the Abenlonian, " an* fat for did you no say that at fii-sh r " There are, however, dialects and provincialisms in the language of every country and people under the sun, and the Scottish vernacular is not woree — not nearly so bad as many are. Our dialects are mainly the results of a nan'owiiig and broadening of the vowel sounds, as exemplified in the instance of the words " h.poon " and " looin."" I have sjx)kcn of the rugged grandeur of the Scottish Doric, and its claims to pre- servation. There are single words in Scotch which cannot be adecjuately expressed in a Avhole sentence in English. Think of " fushionless," "eerie," " wersh,"" "gloaminV' " scunner," "glower," " cosie," "bonnie," " thoweless," " splairge," and " plowter," etc., and try to find their equivalents in the language of the school. Try and find a sentence that will fairly express some 'S %^ ■% THE SCOTTISH TONGUE y. An flasgow ; rather I tar off b his in ^»r, and out his "Yes," itni tak' " But n. Th.^ Grease, ted the that at ilisms in ider the ree — not e mainly le vowel le words rugged to pre- which sentence 'wersh,""* Donnie," and try e school. ■ess some :h I of the woifls. " A gowpeti o' glaur " is but weakly expressed in "a handful of mud""; "stoure"" is not mlequatt'ly defined by calling it " dust in motion ** ; "flype yer stocking lassie,^ is easier siiid than " turn your stocking inside out, girl/' " Auld Ling syne" is not expressible in English. "A Iwnnie wee lassie'* is more euphonious and expressive by a long way tluui " a pretty little girl.'' " Hirsle yont," " my cuit's yeukie," " e'enin's orts muk' gude morain' fodder,' " s{wk' o' lowpin^ ouer a linn," and " pree my mou'," are also good examples of expressive Scotch. No- where, perhaps, is the singular beauty and raie expressiveness of the Scottish national tongue seen to better advantage than in the proverbial sayings — those short, sharp, and shiny shafts of speech, aptly defined as " the wit of one and the wisdom of many," — and of wliich the Scottish language has been so prolific "The genius, wit, and wisdom of a nation are discovered by their proverbs," says Bacon ; and, verily, while the proverbs of Scotland are singularly expitjssive of the pith and beauty of the vernacular in which they are couched, they jJso reveal in very great measure the mental and social characteristics of the people who have per- petuated them. *' A gangin ' fit's aye gettin', were't but a thorn;" "Burnt bairns dread the fire;" "A'e bird in the hand's worth twa in the bush;" "A fool an' his siller's sune parted ; " " Hang a thief when he's young an' he'll no steal when he's auld;'' "There's aye some water whaur the stirkie droons;'" 15 .^^ n '^ THISTLEDOWN "Moudi warts feediiii on jnidges;** "When gossipin' wives nu'ct, the dcil gangs to his dinner ; " " Hungry dogs are hlythe o' hni'sten pnddin's;" "He needs a lang-shankit spune that wad sup wi' the deil ;" "A blate cat nmks a prood mouse ;" " Better a tooui liouse than an ill tenant;" "Lippen to me, but look to You:-ser;" " Jouk anMat the jaw gang by;*" "Hotter snitt' fish than nanc;" "The tulziesome tyke conies hiiphn' hanie;*' "Ha' binks are sliddery;" "Ilka cock cmws best on his ain middenhead ; ^ ** Liuy youth mak's lowsy age ; "^ " Next to nae wife, a guid wife's best;" "Lay your wanie to your winnin';" "It's nae lauchin' to girn in a widdy;" "The wife's a'e dochter an' the man's a'e coo, the tane's ne'er weel, an' the tither's ne'er fu'." Tliese give the evidence. Ours is a language peculiarly powerful in its use of vowels, and the following dialogue between a shopman and a customer is a convincing example. The conversation relates to a plaid hanging at a shop door : — Customer (inquiring the material) — ■"Oo?" (wool?). Shopman — " Aye, es uie roun for His ain nanie's sake, intil richt rtKldins. "Na! tho"* I gang thro' the dead-mirk dail ; e'en thar sid I dread nae skaithin ; for YerseP are nar-by me ; Yer stok an' Yer stay hand me bailh fu'cheerie. "]My buird Ye ha'e hansell'd in face o' my faes; Ye ha'e drookit my head wi' oyle ; my bicker is fu' an' skturnC. "EV'n sae sal gude guidin"' an' gude gree gang wi' me ilk day o' my livin' ; an' ever mair syne i' the Lord's ain howff, at lang last, sal I mak bydan." Hear also Dr. Waddell's translation of the last four vei-ses of the 52nd chapter of Isaiah, they ai-e inexpressibly beautiful : — " Blythe and brak-out, lilt a' like ane, ye bourocks sae swak o' Jerusalem ; for the Lord He has heait- en'd His folk fu' kin'; He has e'en boucht back Jerusalem. IT t m w r-i '■') i THISTLEDOWN " The Lord He rax'd yont His hailie ann, in sight o"* the nations mouy, O ; an' ilk neuk o' the yirth Sill tak tent an' learn the health o' our God bae l30ine, O ' " ^Vwa, awa, clean l)ut frae the toun : niak nor meddle wi' nought that's roun'; awa frae her bosom; haud ye soun"*, v.i' the gear o' the Loid forenent ye ! " For ifs no wi' sic piiigle ye^se gang the gate ; nor ifs no wi' sic spewl ye maun spang the spate ; for the Lord, He's afore ye, ear'' an'' late ; an' Israel's Grod, He's ahint ye ! " These suggest "The Lord's Prayer intill Auld Scottis," as printed by Pinkeiton, and which is cast in more antique form still: — "Uor fader quhilk becst i' Hevin, Hallo wit weird thyne nam. Cum thyne kinrik. Be dune thyne wuU as is i' Hevin, sva po yerd. Uor dailie breid gif us thilk day. And forleit us our skaths, as we forleit tham quha skath us. And Iced us na intill tenitation. Butan fi-e us fra evil. Amen." No writer of any time — Bums alone excepted — has handled the native tongue to better puipose for the expression of every feeling of the human heart than has Sir Walter Scott; and in Jcanie Deans' pica to the Queen for her sister's life there is the finest example of simple pathos, dashed with the passion of hope struggling v ith despair, that is to be met with anywhere in literature. It shows the extent in this way of which the native speech is capjible. 18 11 THE SCOTTISH TONGUE n sight e yirth rod bae lak nor bosom; ent ye! e gate; i spate ; ' IsraePs 11 Auld I is cast quliilk . Cum Ilt'vin, ilk day. m quha Butan )pted — se for heart Deans'* is the ith the It is to Us the leech is "My sister — my puir sister Effie, still lives, though her days and hours are numbered ! She still lives, and a word o' the King's mouth might restore her to a heart-broken auld man, that never, in his daily and nightly exercise, forgot to pray that His IMajesty might be blessed with a lang an' a pi-osperous reign, and that bis throne, and the throne o' his pos- tei-ity, might be estiiblished in rigbteousness. O, madam, if ever ye kend what it was to sorrow for and with a sirming and a suffering creature, whase mind is sae tossed that she can be neither ca'd fit to live or dee, hae some conipjission on our misery ! Save an honest house from dishonour, and an un- hajipy girl, not eighteen years of age, from an early and dreadful death ! ALis ! it is not when we sleep saft and wake nierrily oui-sers that Me think on other people's sufferings. Our hearts are waxed light with- in us then, and we are for righting our ain wrangs and fighting our ain battles. But when the hour of tiouble comes to the mind or to the body — and seldom may it visit your leddyship — and when the hour of death comes, that comes to high and low — lang and late may it be yours ! — oh, my leddy, then it isna what we hae dune for oursePs, but what we b.ae done for othei-s, that we think on maist pleas- antly. And the thought that ye hae intervened to spare the puir thing's life will be sweeter in that hour, come when it may, tlian if a word o' your mouth could hang the haill Porteous mob at the tail o' a'e tow." THISTLEDOWN M * - 'I Then the vigour and variety of the Scottish idiom a.'- a vehicle of description has perhjips never received better ilhistration than in Andrew Fairservice's ac- count of Glasgow Cathedral: — "Ay! ifs a brave Kirk/' said Andrew. '' Nane o"* yere whigmaleeiies and curliwurlies and open sttck hems aboot it — a' solidj weel-jointed mason wark, that will stand as lang as the Marld, keep hands and gunpowther aff it. It had aniaist a douncome lang syne at the Reformation, when they pu'd doon the Kirks of St. AndreA\s and Perth, and thereawa"*, to cleanse them o' Papery, and idolatiy, and image-woi'ship, and surplices, and sic like rags o' the muckle hure that sitteth on the seven hills, as if ane wasua braid enough for her aiild hinder end. Sae the commons o"" Renfrew, and o' the Barony, and the Gorbals, and a' aboot, they behoved to come into Glasgow a'e fair morning, to trj' their hand on purging the High Kirk o' Popish nick-nackets. But the townsmen o' Glasgow, they were feared their auld edifice niight slip the girths in gaun through siccan rough physic, Sfie they rang the connnon bell, and assembled the train-bands wi"" took o' drum. By gude luck, the worthy James Rabat was Dean o"' Guild that year (and a gude mason he was him sell, made him keener to keep up the auld bigging). And the trades assembled, and offered downright battle to the com- mons, rather than their Ivirk should couj) the crans, as others had done elsew here. It wasna for love o' Papeiy — na, na! — nane could ever say that o' the 20 ^ FHE SCOTTISH TONGUE h idiom received ice's ac- a brave laleeries t it— a' itand as ther aff' at the [irks of cleanse rt'oi^ship, de hure iia bi*aid oinmons )als, and V a'e fail- le High isnien o' e might physic, jled the ick, the lat year keener trades le com- le crans, love o' t o' the trades o' Glasgow. Sae they sune came to aii agreement to tak a' the idolatrous statues o' sants (soiTow be on them) out o' their neuks — and sae the bits o' stone idols were broken in pieces by Scripture warrant, and flung into the Molendincr burn, and the Auld Kirk stood as crouse as a cat ^vhen the flaes are kaimcd aff her, and a' body was alike pleased. And I hae heard wise folk say that if the same liud been dune in ilka Kirk in Scotland, the Reform wad just hae been as pure as it is e'en now, and we wad hae mair Christianlike Kirks ; for I hae been sae lang in England, that naething will drive out o' my head, that the dog-kennel at Osbaldi stone-Hall is better than mony a hoiisf> o' God in Scotland." No man, it is well known, had ever more command of the native vernacular than Robert Burns. In a letter written at Carlisle, in June 1787, to his friend William Nicol, Master of the High School, Edin- burgh, he has left a curious testimony at once to the capabilities of the language and his own skill in it. " Kind, honest-hearted Willie,"" he writes, "I'm sitten doon here, after seven-and-forty miles' ridin', e'en as ibrjeskit l ad forniaw'd as a forfoughten cock, to gie you some notion o' my land-lowper-like stravaigm' pin' the sorrowfu' hour that I sheuk hands and parted wi' Auld Reekie. " My auld ga'd gleyde o' a meere has huchyall'd up liill and doun brae in Scotland and England, as teuch and birnie as a vera deevil wi* me. It's true, 21 » I'J i f' I lf< \ V .' < \ a THISTLEDOWN she's as puir"'s a saiig-maker, an' as hard's a kirk, and tipper taipers when she tak's the gate, jist like a lady's gentlewoman in a minuwae, or a hen on a het girdle; but she's a yauld, poutherie girran for a' that, and has a stamach like Willie Stalker's nieere, that Wfid hae digeested tumbler-wheels, for she'll whip me aff her five stimparts o' the best aits at a down-si* , and ne'er fash her thoom. Wlian ance her ring-banes and spavies, her crucksand cramps, are fairly soupl'd, she beets to, beets to, and aye the hindmost hour the tightest. I could wager her price to a thretty pennies, that for twa or three wooks, ridin' at fifty miles a day, the deil-stickit a five gallopere acqueesh Clyde and Whithorn could cast saut on her tail. " I hae dander'd owre a"* the countiy frae Dunbar to Selcraig, and ha'e forgather'd wi' mony a gude fallow, and mony a weel-faui''d hizzie. I met wi' twa dink queynes in particular. Ane o' them a sonsie, fine, fodgel lass, baith braw and bonnie; the ithcr was a clean-shank it, straught, tight, weel-faur'd wench, as blythe's a lint white on a flowerie tliorn, and as sweet and modest's a new blavn plum-rose in a hazel shaw. They were baith bred to mainere by the beuk, and ony ane o' them had as muckle smed- dum and rumbleguniption as the half o' some Pres- bytries that you and I baith ken. They played me sic a deil o' a shavie, that I daur say if my harigals were turn'd out ye wad see twa nicks i' the heart o' me like the mark o' a kail-whittle in a castock. *' I was gaun to write you a lang pystle, but, Gude 22 's a kirk, and e, jist like a hen on a het ,n for a' th;it, i nieere, that le'll whip me down-si* , er ring-banes airly soupl'd, idmost hour to a thretty idin"' at fifty iei"s acqueesh her tail, frae Dunbar lony a gude met wi"" twa sm a sonsie, :'; the ither weel-faur'd «^erie tliorn, jlum-rose in mainere by uckle smed- ' some Pres- r played me my harigals :he heart o' istock. !, but, Gude THE SCOTTISH TONGUE forgive me, I gat myscP sae noutourously bitchify'd tlie day, after kail-time, than I can hardly stoiter but and ben. "My best respecks to the guidwife and a' our <:'omnion fricns, especiall Mr. and Mrs. Cruikshank, iind the honest guidman o' Jock's Lodge. " ni be in Dumfries the morn gif the bwist be to the fore, and the branks bide hale. " Gude be wi' you, Willie ! Amen ! " That letter might fairly be made the "Shibboleth"" in any case of doubt regarding one's ability to read Scotch. It would shi\er the front teeth of some of your counterlouper gentry. Yet it is not an over- done example of the Scotch Doi-ic as it was spoken in Edinburgh drawing-rooms a hundred yeai-s ago — vidcy Heniy Cockburn's Memorials. Between it and the " braid Scotch " of half a century earlier there is a marked difference. In the Scots Magazine for November, 1743, the following proclamation is printed: — " All brethren and sisters, I let you to witt that there is a twa-year-auld lad littleane tint, that ist' ere'en. " It's a' scabbit i' the how hole o' the neck o\], and a cauler kail-blade and brunt butter at it, that ist'er. It has a muckle maun blue pooch hingin' at the carr side oM, fou (/ mullei-s and chucky-stanes, and a spindle and a whorle, and it's daddy's ain jock- teleg in"t. It's a' black aneath the nails wi' howkin' o' yird, that is't. It has its daddy's gi-avat tied about 23 ♦ 1 w i.\ THISTLEDOWN the cmig o*d, and liini^iir down the back oVi. The Imck o"" the hand o\r.s a' hrunt; it got it i' the sniiddy ae day. '"Wliae'er can find this s^iid twa-ycar-auld lad littlc- ane may repair to M o J n\ town-smith in C n, and he sail hae forrewaid twall bear scones, and a ride o' our ain auld beast to bear him hame, and nae mair wonls about it, that wilt'r no."" Hogg, in his "She})herd's Calendar," referring to the religious character of the shepherds of Scotland in his day, tells that " the antiquated but delightful exercise of family worship was never neglected," and, "formality being a thing despised, there are no compositions I ever heard," he continues, "so truly original as those prayers occasionally were; some- times for rude eloquence and pathos, at other times for an indescribable sort of pomp, and, not infre- quently, for a plain and somewhat unbecoming familiarity." He gives several illustrations, quite justifying this description, from some with whom he had himself served and herded. One of the most notable men for this sort of family eloquence, he thought, was a certain Adam Scott, in T^^pper Dalgleish. Thus Scott prayed for a son who seemed thoughtless — " For Thy mercy's sake — for the sake o' Thy puir, sinfu' servants that are now addressing Thee in their ain shilly-shally way, and for the sake o"" mair than we diiur woel name to Thee, hae mercy on Rab. Ye ken fu"' weel he's a wild, mischievous callant, and 24 ^ (I. The i sniiddy nd little- ^mith in r scones, n hamcs rring to Scotland -lightful k1," and, are no so truh' i; some- er times )t infre- L'comnig , quite whom le most nco, he Tapper seemed ly puir, n their r thati 3. Ye it, and THE SCOTTISH TONGUE thinks nae mair o' coiiiiuittin' sin thiin a doi; does o^ Hckin'a dish; but put Thy liook in his nose, and Thy bridle in his gab, and gar hiui come back to Theewi"" a jerk that he'll no forget the langest day that he has to live." For another son he prayed: — "Diinia forget puir Jamie, wha's far awa' frae us this nicht. Keep Thy aim o' jx)\ver about him ; and, oh, I wish Ye wad endow him wi'a little spunk and smedduni to }ict for himser; for, if Ye dinna, he'll be but a bauchle i' this warld, and a b.'ick-sitter i' the neist.""' Again: — " Wt're a' like hawks, we'ie a"" like snails, we're a' like slogie riddles; like hawks to do evil, like snails to do gcxxl, and like slogie liddles to let through a"" the gutle and keep a' the bad." Wher. Napoleon I. was filling Europe with alarm, he pi'ayed — " Bring (loon the tyrant and his lang neb, for he has done imickle ill this year, and gie him a cup o''Thy wrath, and gin he winna tak' that, gie him kelty"" [i.e., double, or two cups]. Very graphic, is it not ! It reminds us of the prayer of one Jamie Hamilton, a celebrated poacher in the West country. As Jamie was reconnoitring a lonely situation one morning, his mind more set on hares than on prayers, a woman approached him from the only house in the immediate district and recjuested that he should " come owre and pray for auld Eppie, for she's just deein'." " Ye ken wi-el enough that I can pray nane," replied Jamie. '•But we haena time to rin for ony ithei-, Jamie," 25 t i I: THISTLEDOWN I f /. urged the woman, "Eppie's just slippin' awa'; and oh ! it wad be an awfu"" like thing to lat the puir bodie dee without bein' prayed for." "Weel, then,"" said Jamie, "an I maun come, I mami come ; but I'm sure I kenna right what to say." The occasion has ever so much to do with the making of the man. Approaching the bed, Jamie doffed his cap and proceeded : — " O Lord, Thou kens best Thy nainsel' how the case stands atween Thee and auld Eppie ; and sin' Ye hae baith the heft and the blade in Yer nain hand, just guide the gully as best suits her guid and Yer nain gloiy. Amen." It was a poacher's prayer in veiy truth, but a bishop could not have said more in as few words. But it is Ciusy to be expressive in Scotch, for it is peculiar to the native idiom that the simpler the lan- guage employed the effect is the greater. Think how this is manifested in the sonajand ballad literature of the country. In popular ballads like "Gil Mori'ice," " Sir James the Rose," " Barbara Allan," and " The Dowie Dens o' Yarrow " ; in Jane Elliot's song of "The Flowers of the Forest"; in Grizzel Baillie's " Werena ni}' heart licht I wad doe " ; in Lady Lind- say's " Auld Robin Gi-ay " ; in Lady Naime's " Land o' the Leal"; in Burns's "Auld Lang Syne"; in Taimahill's " Gloomy Winter" ; in Thorn's " Mither- less Bairn"; and in Smibert's "Widow's Lament." I do not mean to say that the making of these songs and ballads was a simple matter; but the verbal THE SCOTTISH TONGUE 'a"" ; and lir bodie come, I what to lith the I, Jamie hou kens en Thee left and gully as lien." , but a ords. for it is the lan- link how ature of lorrice,"" d"The song of iBailhe's ly Lind- " Land ine"; in piither- lanient."" ]pe songs verbal material is in each ca>^e of the simplest character, and the effect such that the j)ieces are established in the common heart of Scotland. Bums did not go out of his way for either language or figm-es of speech to describe Willie Wastle's wife, yet see the gmphic pictuiv we have presented to us by a few strokes of the pen : — " She has an e'e — she has but ane. The cat has twa the very colour ; Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump, A clapper-tongue wad dcave a miller ; A whiskin' beard about her mou'. Her nose and chin they threaten ither — Sic .1 wife as Willie has, I wadna gie a button for her. ■' She's bow-houghed, she's hein-shinn'd, Ae limpin' leg, a hand-breed shorter; She's twisted right, she's twisted left To balance fair in ilka quarter : She has a hump upon her breast The twin o' that upon her shouther — Sic a wife as Willie has, I wadna gie a button for her," No idea there is stranied. Every word is connnon. The siune may be said of Hew Ainslie's lyric poem in a different vein, " Dowie in the hint o' Hairst," which I make no apology for (juoting in full : — " It's dowie in the hint o' hairst, At the wa'-gang o' the swallow. When the wind grows can Id, and the burns grow bauld, An' the wuds are hmgin' yellow ; C 27 1 i ''■■I i ! THISTLEDOWN But oh, it's dowier far to see Tlie wa'-ffiing o' her tlie heart gangs wi'. The dead-set o' a shinin' e'e. That darkens the weary warld on thee. ** There was meikle love atween us twa — Oh, twa could ncVr be fonder ; And the thing on yird was never made, That could ha'e gart us sunder. But the way o' Hcraven's aboon a' ken. And we maun bear what it likes to sen' — H'k comfort, though, to weary men. That the warst o' this warld's wacs maun en". " There's mony things that come and gae. Just kent, and just forgotten ; And the flowers that busk a bonnie brae. Gin anither year lie rotten. But the last look o' yon lovely e'e. And the deein' grip she ga'e to me. They're settled like eternitie — Oh, Mary ; gin I were wi' thee." Ry these illustrations I have enduavoured to s\\c\y forth, to all whom it may concern, the verbal beauty, the graphic force, and the powers for the expression of pathos and humour there is in the vernacular speech of Scotland. I^ike our national emblem — the thistle — it is, of course, nothing in the mouth of an ass. But well spoken, it js charming alike to the ear and the intellect ; and, for the reasons already urged in this paper, is worthy of more general esteem and more t' nil ass. e ear and uim'cl in . and more .'ration of Old Cock- lexpressive THE SCOTTISH TONGUE of living languages;" and no unprejudiced reader of his Alemorials will dispute the value of his opinion on the subject. He wrote excellent Doric himself, and made it the vehicle of his convei'sation in his family, and casually throughout the day, as long as he lived. Ho ! for more such good old Scottish gentlemen ! Ho ! for another Jean, Duchess of Gordon, to teach our Scottish gentry how to speak natur.illv ! That wc had more men in our midst, with (.(jual influence and education, and charged with the fine spirit of patriotism which animates Scotland's ain "grand aiild man" — Professor Black ie ! It has been the fashion for English journalists with preten- sions to wit, to animadvert by pen and pencil on what they regard as the idiosyncracies of Scottish speech and behaviour. Ptmch is a frequent offender in this way. I say offender advisedly, for no Punch artist, so far as I have seen — and I havescanned that jounial from the first number to the last — ever drew a Scots- man in "his maimer as he lived.'" The originals of the ])i(;tines may have appeared in London Christmas pantomimes, but certaiidy nowhere else. Then the language which in their guileless innocence they expect will passnuisteras Scotch, is a hash-up alike revolting to the eais of gods and men. We don't expect very nmch from st)me folks, but surely even a London journalist should know that a Scotsman does not say " nion " when he means to say " man." Charles Macklin put it that way, and the London journalist apparently can never get beyond Macklin. Don't go 29 i \\ i THISTLEDOWN i I' : ^ /, il to I/)ndon for your Scotch, my remlcr ! Listen to it iin it may sUll be .s()()kfn at your graiiuy's in^lisidc. laniiliarise youi-sdf « itli it as it is to l)o foinul in its full vigour and j)uiity in the Wavcrlcy Novels; in Hurns's Poems and Songs ; in the " Noctes Ambro- sianiK " of IVofessor Wilson ; in Gaifs Tales ; in the writings of the Kttrick Shephertl ; in the stories of George MacDonald, J. M. Bairie, and S. R. Crockett; in the pages of " Mansie Wauch," " Tammas BckI- kin," and " Johimy Gibb." Don't learn English less; but again, I say, read, write, and speak Scotch more frequently. And, when doing so, remember you are not indulging in a mere vulgar corruption of g(M)d Knglish, comparable with the barbarous dialects of Yorkshire and Devon, but in a true and distinct, a powerful and beautiful language of your own, " differ- ing not men ly from modern English in pronunciation, but in the possession of many beautiful words, which have ceased to be English, and in the use of inflexions unknown to literary and spoken English since the days of Piei"s Ploughman and Chaucei'." " The Scotch,'''' as the late I^ord Jeffrey said, "is not to be considered as a provincial dialect — the vehicle only of mstic vul- garity and I'ude local humour. It is the language of ;•. whole country, long an independent kingdom, and still separate in laws, character, and manners. It is by no nu'ans })eculiar to the vulgar, but is the common speech of the whole nation in eai'ly life, and with many of its most exaltwl and accomplished individuals throughout their whole existence ; and though it be 30 THE SCOTTISH TONGUE ten to it iil^U'sidc. nd in its )M'ls ; in Anibn)- s ; in tlu' stories of Crockett ; iiiis BckI- ^lishless; tch more r you are I of gOd as more j)ure, lofty, and simple than the pres•. .-licularly in the larger 3'> i I i 1 '■f \ i THISTLEDOWN li ) ' ■ , i towns, wliere the populations are so mixed ; do not go there to learn the Scottish taste and humour. This practice has led to the proverbial saying that "a Scotchman takes his amusement seriously.*" In such places you may learn something of the English char- acter and humour, but nothing of he Scotch. For an Englishman^'s wit (he has little or no humour) being an accjuired taste, comes out " on parade *" — it is a gay thing — while Scotch folks"' humour being the common gift of Nature to all and sundry in the land, differing only in degree, slips out most frequently when and where least expectetl. I amous specimens of it come down from oiu* loneiy liillaides — from the cottage and farm ingle-nooks. It blossoms in the solemn assemblies of the peoj)le — at meetings of Kirk Sessions, in the City and Town Council Chambei's, in our Presbyteries, our Couiis of Justice, and occasion- ally in the high Parliament of the Kirk itself. In testimony of this read the Reminiscences of Dean Ramsiiy, Dr. Rodgers'' Century of Scottish Life^ The Laird of Lognn, and other similar collections of the national humour; or study the humoi • ; of our Scottish life and characteras they arc abu.ici... ill reflected in the immortal writings of Burns, f> Sc >ct, and Gait, and Wilson. One of the chief characteristics of Scotch huruc»ur, as I have already indicate^l, is its spontaneity, or utter want of effbrt to effect its production. Much of it comes out just as a matter of couire, and without the slightest indication on the part of the creator that he 34 S : i'\ Wipiw^p^ipii I ,:/:>--^:' "i'^'^^'" '_A-'«;i,'<^»Ji»5»v;>:i,,;!jK- U>',;* ■c' ' ■ff '^yi 1 i i ' *"' sHI > 1 (if si-. ^.' 'V i , ■i s\ ut I a^n^^il^i^^ •MX.:f^', ..»;• H\:VVLEIK)S\S frv-ii-. ■v'.\i-], t|i ■ }/. . ..!•■,► v,.j \i ■) ; ■!.. f r. (»■(> til t Till I io It M n '.. >^.-> .^\. c 4 . ■i- in '.i'..,ru :.i; r M'M- li;: i;-' 'i:' i . • • '■>iU 11'' tl) it ":i 'O ;<.MI->!\', Tl! ;u:n lil'i"' > ',!<;> '•• t - t- c'li sii'.ii l-'.Mu'l'-^h r'ti ■.r.U u K 1 t\(i> .mil,' )ii)tf: U'i' !;r'ii- oi" {i(.» Imtuoi; . W " I I . ■ M ■ < a 'Hi T!.';.i iiU - liM.HJi.i } H-tn . b ll I..;- (!• li i Ju-t: >4'; .! tt / ■ H,! Ci-'iii j;,).-!.;! ai • '■ ;<;■!.. its,. if J. ' X.acijih (.i.e. ;i!ii i 1 1 1 oi;ci;t"iri!.-, •J '! 'i S <,'t!' I 'J..- f>. :r M.'V _M 1-.' ,.■• , ,,« .-■(•ivi-l. ;>!'!!! (• ,1,11 (.-. I V - k' I ' ! • niiit WW i^'v , !;;'»;rl; '•"■ ;iK':)«!ii. »!■ r i>i 1- ■lliv.- -SU ,.J 'VIM, , til). '•ll-i. l' IM! ;ii JM; !, ■ I M Jiv i;i-' »t..-U;Ht I'l* U tiJS G it to e9,P g. o o 8)j J3 « 05 O Ss go. •5 a ^1 tJJ ^.S Or ^•s "n-fi t*:, S:^ -352 I V ^W' % 't. t I *''»''■*. ? • 1 'vSjT i^ I ^IHiri-'^--- ■yn^ SCOTCH HUMOUR is aware of the splendid part he is playing. Then it has nearly always a strong practiail basis. The Scotch are characteristically practical people, and very much of what is most enjoyable in humorous Scotch storias and anecdotes, as Dean Kamsay truly siiys, arises "from the simple and matter-of-fact references made to circumstances which are unusual.'' There are otheix, of course, but these are the main characteristics of Scotch humour. Our best anecdotes illustrate this. Here is a goo ;he other, if'ore they •ay too ? " Yatterin^ Surelv 1 a time a pound the price SCOTCH HUMOUR at which the article in ipu^tion had stood fixed for .some time. " Anither bawbee, mistress,"''' said the grocer. " Caw- nils are up, on account o"" the war." " Kh, megstie me ! " was the resj)onse. "An' can it be the case that thcv reallv fecht wi' cawnil licht?" A Scotch blacksmith, being asked the meaning of metaphysics, explained as follows : — " Weel, Geordie, ye see, it's just like this. When the pairty that listens disna ken what the pairty that speaks means, an' when the pairty that speaks disna ken what he means him- scV, that^s metapkeesicsy Many a lecture of an hour's length, I am thinking, has had no better results. No anecdote can better illustrate the practical basis of the Scotch mind than the following: — "John,"' Slid a minister to one of his congregation, " I hope you hold family worehip regularly." "Aye," stiid John, " in the time o' year o't." " In the time o' year o't ! What do you mean, John ? " " Ye ken, sir, we canna see in the winter nichts." " But, John, can't you buy candles ? " " AVcel, I could," replied John, " but in that case I'm dootin' the cost would owergang the profit." And practical in the management of their devo- tional exercises, there is a practical side to the grief of Scotch folk. " Dinna greet amang your parritch, Geordie," said one to another, " they're thin eneuch already." And the story is told of an Aberdeenshire woman who, when on the occasion of the death of m m i.' h'' > ".\. * K^ THISTLEDOWN K I I her huslmiul the minister's wife came to cniidolo vnih hor, and said — "It is a great loss you have sustained, Janet.'' She repHed, "Deed is't, my lady. An' I've just hcen sittin' here greetin' a' day, an' as sune as I get this bowliefu' o' kail snppit I'm gaun to begin an' greet again." " You have had a sore affliction, Margaret," said a minister once to a Scotch matron in circum-stances similar to the heroine of the above stoiy. "A sore .affliction indeed ; but I hope you are not altogether without consolation." "Na,"said Margaret, "an' I'm no that, sir; for gin He has ta'en awa' the saul, it's a great consolation for me to think that He's ta'en awa' the stammick as weel." Ah, poor bo .V. ■><:,. SCOTCH HUMOUR le with itainfd, Ve jvist us I get Ln' greet ," said a iLstances "A sore together ; for gin at ion for iniick as ision tea H pronii- uinds Uij, ill dine,'" )r a time, icult to ^ff, a de- come, view of ch mind f the old is Border wooden - noise on ^: the pavement. Several friends stood b^' the bedside of tlie dying j)erson, and one of them suiu to her — "Weel, Jenny, ye're deein'; but ye\e done the richt gaet here, air ye'll gang to lieaven ; an' when ye fang there, should you see ony o' oor fouk, ye niicht tell thenj that we're a' weel." " Ou,"" said Jenny half-heartedly, " gin I see them Tse tell them ; but ye maumia expect that Fm to be gaun clank, clankin' about through heaven lookin' for your fouk." Of all the stories of this class, however, the following death-bed conversation between a husband and wife affoi-ds perhaps the very best specimen of the dry humour peculiar to Scotch folk : — An old shoemaker in Glasgow was sitting by the bedside of his wife, who was dying. Taking her husband by the hand, the old woman said, " Weel, John, weVe to paiii. I hae been a gude wife to you, John." "Oh, middlin"', middlin"', Jenny," said John, not disposed to connnit himself wholly. "Ay, Tve been a gude wife to you, John," says she, " an' ye maun promise to bury me in the auld kirkyard at Stra'von, beside my ain kith and kin, for I couldna rest in peace among unoo fouk, in the dirt an' smoke o' Gleska'." "Weel, weel, Jenny, my woman," said John, soothingly, " I'll humour ye thus far. We'll pit ye in the Gorbals first, an' gin ye dinnn "; quiet there, we'll tak' ye to Stra'von syne." Ajid vt't there is on record a retort of a Scotch W ! 39 m THISTLEDOWN , % bcmiU', which is ahiiost e(|imlly nioving. SamideiN Uiis a violiin to chronic usthmM, and out; c plain to his minister of inverference with his tl on the paii: of his supei'annuated predecessor. Coming up to the mini- ster one day, " John's been interfeerin' again," said he, " an' I've come to see what's to be dune ? "" " Well, I'm sorry to hear it," saifl the minister, " but as I have told you before, Da\ id, John's a silly body, and you should try, I think, some other means of getting rid of his annoyance than by openly resisting him. \Vliy not follow tlie Scriptural injunction given for our guidance in such cases, and heap coals of fire on yoiu' enemy's head," " Dod, sir, that's the very thing," cried David, taking the minister literally, and grinning and rub- bing his hands with glee at the prospect of an early 40 SCOTCH HUMOUR SmindeiN ly, whilst I ji violent oin Siuin- ; fntt'iing IS \n: was from hi> OU'VL' got. HISO, but at wudbc thei- good y daro to try l)t'adlt' a niinisti r ai-t of his the mini- nin," said minister, n's a silly her means y resisting tion given als of fire Lid David, and rub- an early and rffectnul settleinetih ot" the long-standing fiMid. *'('a|)it.il, minister; that'll sort him ; dod, ay — heap lowin' coals on his head, and burn the wnitch !" We are proverbially a eantioiis people. "The canny Scot " is a world-wide term; but the Paisley man u ho describi'd Niagara Falls as "naething but a pcrt'cct waste o' waier," was canny to a fault. And vet tiie MoM'at man — his more inspiring native sui- rotindings notwithstanding -was scarcely more visibly impressed by the same S(;ene. " Did you ever see Hiiythijig so grand ?" demanded his friend who had taken him to see the mighty cataract. "\Veel,'"'said the Moffat man, "as for grand, I maybe never saw onything better ; but for (jueer, man, d'ye ken, I ance saw a peacoi U wi' a wocklen leg." IIow naturally the one thing would suggest the other will not readily appear to most folks. lie was more of a true Scot who, when the scIhk)!- master in passing along one day said to him, " I see you ai-e to have u pool" crop of potatoes this year, Thomas," i-eplied — "Ay, but there's some consolation, sir ; John Tarn- son's aie no a bit better." " riame's avo hamely," — some homes are more so than others. The " Paisley Ixxlies " havesoi le reason for being proud of their native burgh, as they aie. I ha\e heard of one who was on a visit to Edinburgh many years ago, and during his brief stay there was discovered by one of the city guides lying on hi-; face on the Calton Hill, apparently jtsleep. The 41 M I \m ' it' I i I' THISTLEDOWN '■'i summer sun was scorching tlie back of his im. covered heml, and the guide thought it his duty to roujMi him up. 'Tm no slcepinV responded the Paisley man, to the touch of the guide's stalf, " Tm just lyin"* here thinkin';'" then turning himself round and looking up, "Ay, freend," continued he, "I was just lyin' thinkin"" about Paisley." "Well,"' responded the guide, "I don't see why i y thought of Paisley should enter your head while you can feast your eyes on fair'Edina, Scotia's darling Seat,"* as the Poet Burns has called our city here." " Maybe ay, an"" maybe no, freend ; but it's no easy gettin"" the thocht o' Paisley oot o' a Paisley man's head, even although he is in the middle o' Edinburgh. Up in yer braw college there, the )naist distinguishwl professor in it is John Wilson, a Paisley man. In St. George's kirk, ower there, yer precentor, 11. A. Smith — an' there's no his marrow again in a' Scotland — is a Paisley man. In the jail ower by foment us there's mair than a'e Paisley callan' the noo. Syne, ye see the Register House doon there, weel, the woman that sweeps out the passages — an' my ain kissen to boot — is a Paisley woman. An' so ye see, freend, although ane's in I'^dinburgh it's no sae ejisy gettin' thochts o' Paisley kept oot o' his head." The next illustration is also truly Scotch. Two Lowland crofters lived within a few hundred yards of each other. One of then), Duncan by name, being the possessor of " Willison's Works," a rarity in the 42 1 f his iin- is duty to ly man, to lyin"* here rid looking' jast lyin' ieewhyr y I while you ma darling y here;' it's no easy li.sley man's I'.dinburgh. istinguished y man. In ■ntor, R. A. 1 eC Scotland y foment us noo. Syne, e, weel, the -an' my ain A\ so ye si-'c, ; no sae ea.sy head." icotch. Two dred yards i)i name, being rarity in the SCOTCH HUMOUR distri.'t, his neighbour, Donald, sent liis boy one day to ask Dunean to fiivour him with a resuling of the book. "Tell your father," said Duncan, "that I canna lend oot my book, but ho may come to my h(K)se and read it thei'c as lang as he likes." Cou)itry folk deal all iiDre or less in " giff-gaff," and in a few days after, ])uncan, having to go to the market, and Ix'inj; minus a saddle, sent his bov to ask Donald to give him the loan of his saddle for the occasion. "Tell your father," said Donald, "that I canna lend oot my siiddle ; but it's in the barn, an' he can come there an' ride on it a' day if he likes." The cannyness charactei'istic of our countrymen, sometimes jxs a matter of course, is found manifestinir itself in ways which, to say the least of them, are peculiar, as w itness : A Forfar cobbler, described briefly as " a notoi'ious offender," was not very long ago brought lip before the local magistrate, aiul being found guilty as libelled, was sentenced to pay a fine of half-a-crown, or endure twenty-four hours' impris- onment. If he chose tlije latter, he w(mld, in accoixl- auce with the police arrangements of the district, be taken to the jail at Perth. Having his option, the cobbler communed with himself. " Fll go to Perth," siiid he ; " Tve business in the toon at ony rate." An official forthwith conveyed liiin by train to the "Fair City"; but when the prisoner reached the jail he said he would now pay the fine. The (iovenior looked surprised, but found he would have to take it. " And now," said the canny cobbler, "I D 43 r^ i i Ml i n ^:n I I i.' THISTLEDOWN want my fare hanie/" The (rovcnior denmiTCfl, made inquiiies, and discovered that there was no alternative ; the prisoner must be sent at the pubhc expense to the place where he had been brought from. So the crafty son of St. Crispin got the 2.s. 8id., which represented his railway fare, transacted his business, and went home triumphant, ^k^* '^'^^^ * railway jouniey the better for his (, nee. Our iK'xt specinu>n is cousin-gernian to the alx)ve. It is of two elderly Scotch ladies — " twa auld maids,"' to use a more homely phrjtse — who, on a certain Sun- day not very long ago, set out to attend divine service in the Auld Kirk, and discovered on the way thither that they had left home without the usual smal[ subscription for the "plate."" They lesolved not to leturn for the money, but to ask a loan of the neces- sary amount from a friend whose door they would pass on the way. The fiiend was delighted to be able to oblige them, and, pi-oducing her purse, spread out on the table a number of coins of various values — half- pennies, pennies, threepenny, and sixpenny pieces. The ladies innnediately selected a halfpenny each and \\('nt away. Jjater in the course of the same day they .ippeared to their friend again, and said they had come to repay the loan. "Toots, havers," exclaimed old Janet, "ye needna hae Iwen in sic a hurry wi' the bits o'coppei-s ; I could hae gotten them frae you at ony time." "Ou, buL" said the thrifty pair, in subdued and confidential tones, " it was nae trouble ava\ for there 44 1, made [•native; e to the le crafty resente that I could sae sune getanither coo." The late Rev. Dr. Bcgg, was wont to tell of a Scotch woman to whom a neighbour said, "Effie, I wonder hoo ye can sleep wi' sae muckle debt on your heid ;"" to which Effie quietly answered, "I can sleep fu' weel; but I wonder hoo they can sleep that trust me." "Are you a native of this parish ?" asked a sheriflT of a witness who was summoned to testify in a case of distilling. " Maistly, yer honour," was the reply. " I mean, were you bom in this parish .'' " " No, yer honour, I wisna bom in this jmrish ; but Fm maistly a native for a' that." " You came here when you were a child I suppose, vou mean .'' " said the sheriff. Iv/. i %\ t, i-' THISTLEDOWN % f II It " No, sir ; I'm here just aboot sax year noo.^ " Then how do you come to be mostly a native of the parish ? " " Weel, ye see, when I cam here, sax year syne, I just weighed eight stane, an"* Fm fully seventeen stane noo ; so, ye see, that aboot nine stane o"* me belangs to this parish, an' I maun be maistly a native o"'t.*'' Not very long ago a countryman got married, and soon after invited a friend to his house and introduced him to his new wife, who, by the by, was a person of remarkably plain appearance. " What do you think o' her John ? '*"' he asked his friend, when the good lady had retired from the room for a little. '* She's no"" veiy bonnie ! "" was the candid and discomforting reply. " Thafs ti'ue,'''' said the husband ; " she''s no muckle to look at, but she''s a rale gude-hearted woman. Positeevly ugly outride, but a' thafs lovely inside.'''' " Lord, man, Tam," said the friend gravely, *' it's a peety ye QoxAdnsi Jlype her ! " At a feeing market in Perth a boy was waiting to be hired, when a farmer, who wanted such a senant, accosted him, and after some con\ersation, enquired if he had a written character. The lad replied that he had, but it was at home. " Bring it with you next Pnday," said the farmer, " and meet me here at two o'clock." When the parties met again, " Weel, my man," said the farmer, "ha'e ye got your char- acter ? " " Na," was the reply, " but I've gotten yours, an' I'm no comin' ! " "There's anither row up at the Soutars'," said 48 sir SCOTCH HUMOUR AVillie Wilson, as he shook the rain from his plaid aiul t i.Ml-.. . ' li THISTLEDOWN I I'i B Pate no sing ? Tin thinkiii' he's sung to as good fouk, an' better than you, in his time. Til tell ye o' aV place whaur he lins Ix'en kent losing ui'inair honour to himseP than ye can brag (Z, and tiiafs before the Queen. Ay? an' if it >vill heighten him ony in your estimation, I'll prove to you, for the wager o' a bottle o' brandy, that he even sleepit, an' that no' sae lang syne, in the same hoose she \\as in." Thinking this latter assertion outstretched the limits of all j)robability, the wager was immediately taken by the party, when, to the satisfaction of all the others j)resent, the worthy farmer proved the truth of his allegations by telling how, accompaniwl by Pate, he had been to the Kirk of Crathie on the Sunday previous, sind that during the service, and in presence of Her Royal Alajesty, Pate had both sung and slept. The farmer won the wager, and the bottle circulated, amid continued outbursts of stentorian laughter. A worthy laird in a Perthshire village made the, for hiiu, wonderful journey to see the great Exhibi- tion of 1851. On his return, his banker, a man who was well known to have the idea that he was by far the most influential and potent power in the shire, invitetl the laird, with some cronies, to a glass of punch. The banker meant to annise the company at the old laird's expense, to trot him out, and get him to describe the sights of I^cmdon. "An' what, laird, most of all impressetl you at the great glass house.''" asked the banker, with a sly wink at the and suit I realtr their \i fouk, o"* tiV' onovu' re the 1 your bottle ,e lang ;d the diately I of all ed the ipanied on the , and in th sung le lK)ttle pntorian ade the, Exhibi- m who by far le shire, lass of onipany and get n' what, at glass at the 1 SCOTCH HUMOUR conifKuiy. "Ah, weel, sir," replied the laird, as he emptied his glass, "I wa« nnickle imj)ressed wV a I saw — nuiekle inipresseie may with more truth be said of him. At the same time the Scottish pulpit has contained many earnest, good men, who were also genuine humourists. Yea, than the good old Scotch divines, certainly no other class or section of the connnunity lias laid up to its credit so many witty and humorous sayings that are destined to live with the language in which they are uttered. Every parish in the land hfxs stories to tell of such pastors. It is only necessary to mention such pronn'nent names as the Revs. Robert Shirra, of Kirkcaldy ; Walter Dunlop, of Dumfries ; John Skinner, of Longside, the author of "Tullochgorum"; Mr. Thorn, 56 ll OLD SCOTCH DIVINES of Govan ; and the ]at«j Din. Norman MaclcHxl and "William Andei-son, of Glasgow, to suggest many other bright and shining lights. Tliere have been many ministers of the Gaspel, of coui*se, wJio, not at all witty themselves, yet, by reason of cer'^ain idiosyncrasies of nature and eccentricities of char- acter, have been the cause of wit in others. These, however, do not come within the scope of the present j)aper. Here we shall deal not with negative but with, positive clerical humorists only. Much of the old clerical hinnour of Scotland came direct from the pulpit, juid vas j)art and parcel of the pastoral matter and method of the time. The preaching of to-day gives but the faintest idea of the preaching of a hundi'ed years ago. The sermon of the old divine was very much in the style of an easy conversation, interspei-sed with occasional piuentheses applicable to individual chaiactei*s or to the circum- stances which ai'ose before his eyes in church. Dean Kamsay, in his faithful Reminiscences, tells of a clergyman wlio, observing one of his flock jusleep during his sermon, paused, and called him to order, thus — "Jeems Robson, ye are sleep! n'. I insist on your wanking when God's word is pi-eached to ye." "liOok at your ain seat and ye'll sie a sleeper forby me," aruswered Jeems, pointing to the clergy- nuui's lady in the minister's pew. "Then, Jeems," said the minister, 'when ye see my wife asl','ep again baud up your hand." ■0f _ f 'i !i, . 1 . 4ii 'i \ tf 1 THISTLEDOWN By and by the arm was stretched out, and sure enough the fair lady was caught in the act. Her husband solemnly called upon her to sbmd up and receive the censui'e due to her oft'ence, and thus iuldressed her — "Mrs. B., a'body kens that when I got ye for my wife I got nae beauty ; yer freens ken I got nae siller; and, if I didna get God's grace, I hae gotten a puir bargain indeed."" It is fortunate for some folks, both you and I know, my reader, that Church discipline is not so rigorously enforced nowadays. Mr. Shin'a, of Kirkcaldy, distinguished for his homely and remarkable Siiyings, bf)th in the pulpit and abroad, was greatly given to personal reproof in the cou2-se of divine service, and had a happy knack of sometimes killing two birds with one stone. One day, observing a young girl w'lih a large and rather gaudy new bonnet, with which she herself seemed immoderately pleased, and also noticing or suspecting that his Avife was indulging in a quiet nap, he paused in the middle of his sermon and said — " Look ony o' ye there if my wife be sleepin', for I canna see her for thae fine falderals on Jenny Bain's n 'W bonnet." One day a weaver entered Shirm's kirk dressed in the new uniform then procured for the volunteers, just raised. He kept walking about for a time as if looking for a seat, but really to show off his fineiy, which he perceived was attracting the attention of some of the less grave mcmbei's of the congregation. He came to his place, however, rather quickly on 58 I OLD SCOTCH DIVINES Shirra cjuietly remarking, "Just sit down thoi'e, my man, and we'll a' see your new breeks when the kirk skails." This same Shirra was arldicted to parenthetical leniarks when reading the Scriptures, and one day, when reading from the 116th Psalm, "I said in my haste, all men are liars,'' he (juietly remarked — "Indeed, Dauvid, gin ye hatl lived in this parish ye might hae said it at your leisure." This, good as it is, was almost equalled by the remarks of an Edinburgh minister. The Rev. Mr. Scott, of the Cow gate, was a man of some popularity, but was seldom on good terms with his flock. One day, as he was preaching on Job, he said — " My brethren, Job, in the first place, was a sairly tried man ; Job, in the second place, was an unconnnonly patient man ; Job, in the third place, never preached in the Cowgate ; fourthly, and lastly, if Job hud preached here, gude help his patience." The Rev. James Oliphant, of Dumbarton, wjis especially quaint in the pulpit. In reading the Scriptiu'es, his habit was to make parenthetical connnents in undertones. On this account the scats in nearest proximity to the pulpit were always best filled. Reading, one day, the passage which describes the possessed swine running into the deep and being there choked, he was heai'd to nuitter, "Oh, that the deevil had been chockit too." Again, in the passage as to Peter exclaiming, " We have left all and followed Thee," the remark was, 59 ! K m^ liL r^m THISTLEDOWN }' "Aye boiistiiig, Peter, aye bragging; what had ye to leave but an auld, crazy boat, and maybe twa or three lotten nets ? " There wtis considerable ingenuity in the nuxle by which Mr. 01i[)hanl sought to establish the absolute wickedness of the devil. "From the word devil^^ said Mr. Oliohant, " which means an enemy ^ take the d and you have evil; remove the e and you have vil (vile); take away the v and it is ill; and so you see, my brethren, he''s just an ill, vile, evil devil l"*^ A late minister of Crossmichael, in Galloway, did not disdain to illustrate his subjects with such images and allusions jis were within the comprehension of his homely liearei's. Accordingly, one Sabbath morning, he read a verse from the book of Exodus, as follows — " And the I^ord said unto Moses — shut that door; Fm thinkin' if ye had to sit beside the door yei-ser ye wadna be sae ready leavin' it open ; it was just beside that door that Yedam Tamson, the bellman, gat his death o' cauld, an' I'm sure, honest man, he didna let it stey nuickle open. — And the Lord said unto jMoses — put oot that dog; wha is't that brings dogs to the kirk, yaft'-yatfin' ? Lat nje never see ye bring yer dogs here ony mair, or I'll put you an' them baith oot. — And the Lord saitl unto Moses — I see a man aneath that wast laft wi' his hat on ; I'm sure ye're clean oot o' the souch o' the door ; keep aff yer bonnet, Tammas, an' if yer bare pow be caukl, ye maun jist get a grey woi'set wig like myseP ; they're no sae dear ; plenty o' them 60 r. OLD SCOTCH DIVINES at Bob Gillespie's for tenpence." This said, he again began the verse, and at last made out the instructions to Moses in a manner more strictly in accordance with the text and with decency. Another, remarkable for the simplicity and force of his style, was discoursing from the text, "Except ye repent ye shall all likewise perish," and in order to impress upon his hearers the importance of attending to the solemn truth conveyed in the passage — " Yes, my freens,"" he emphatically ex- claimed, "unless ye repent ye shall all perish, just as surely as Em gaun to ding the guts oot o' that muckle blue flee that's lichtit on my Bible." Before the blow was struck the fly got away, upon which he struck the book with all his might and exclaimed at the top of his voice, " My freens, there's a chance for ye yet ! " Dr. Paul, in his Past and Present of Aberdeenshire ^ tells of a minister who, while preaching on the sub- ject of the wiles and crafts of Satan, suddenly paused, and then exclaimed — " See him sittin' there in the crap o' the wa'. What shall we do wi' him, my brethren? He winna hang, for he's licht as a feather; neither will he droon, my brethren, for he can soom like a cork ; but we'll shoot him wi' the gun o' the Gospel." Then putting himself in the position of one aiming at an object, and imitating the noise of a shot, the minister called out cxultingly, " He's doon like a dead craw ! " This incident would have greatly delighted tlie 61 %. fit t , 1 mm f. f' Jl li I K I lyf 1.^ THISTLEDOWN mail who thus dt'scribed the kind of minister he was in search of — " Nane o' your guid-warks men, or preiichers o' ciiuld moraHty for me ! Gie me a speerit-rousin' preacher that'll haud the deil under the noses of the congregation and mak' tlieir flesh creep ! " It is related of a certain divine, whose matrimonia4 relations are supjjosed not to have been of the most agreeable kind, that one Sabbath morning, while reading to his congregation the parable of the Supper, in which occurs the passage — "And another said, I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them ; I pray thee have me excused. And another said, I have married a wife, and therefore cannot come," he suddenly paused at the end of this vei-se, drew oft' his spectacles, and, looking on his hearers, said with emphasis — " The fact is, my brethren, one woman can draw a man farther away from the kingdom of heaven than fifty yoke of t)X(n." They were hard nuts to crack, many of these old preachers. A late Earl of Airlie, when Lord High Commis- sioner, hud the retiring jNIoderator to dinner with him on the evening previous to the opening of the General Assembly. In a spirit of mischief, the Ivirl tried to unfit him for his duties on the following day. As often as the re\erend gentleman would endeavour to retire, the P]arl met him with the exclamation, "Another glass, and then!" In spite of his late potations, the minisLcr was in his place on 62 OLD SCOTCH DIVINES the following day, and preached from the words, " The wicked shall be punished, and that light early." Notwithstanding the manifest impatience of the Commissioner, the sermon was spun out t<) an inordinate length, the minister repeating with nuaning emphasis each time that the sand glass which showed the half-hours wjus turned, "Another glass, and then ! The wicke» \ It, ' THISTLEDOWN / I si> doth a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honour," a north country divine illus- trated his subject by this example : — " See John at the kirk, an' he looks amon"" folk like a man o' mense; but follow him to the peat-moss, an"" ye'll hear him tellin' cooree stories to the loons an*" (jueans, haudin"* them lauchin"' at sin. There's a dead flee in John's sowl." Sometimes, in his endeavour to give a vivid description, this same preacher became delijLjhtfully grotesque. Refeiring to Jonah — "The whawl," he said, " shoutherin' awa' the waves, got at last geyan near the shore, and cried Byock-up. But Jonjih didna come. Then the whawl cried [speaking it loudei-, and imitating the whale retching], I3vock-i:i'1 But na ! Jonah aye stack. Then the whawl cried [speaking it veiy loud and slow], Byock-iji' ! Noo, sirs, divna ye see Jonah rinnin', dreepin', up the beach." Once he described the progress of a sinner in a course of vice to the last stage of his liopeless- ness, when there is nothing left for him but a ciy of pain — "Sirs, oot owre yon knowe there's a sheepie tether't, an' in o' reach o' its tether there's a breem buss [broom bush], an' it gangs roond the buss, an' i\x)nd the buss, till it's hankit at the head, an' then, what does it dee? It cries, fia^/ That's just the sinner ciyin' oot in its meesery." In the same sermon, looking down upon the old women who sat near the pulpit and on the pulpit stair for the pui*pose of better hearing, in their clean white mutches, he said — " Here ye're a' sittin*, wi' yer 64 (I OLD SCOTCH DIVINES luikl wither't faces, that's bonnier to me than a lass in her teens, for I ken ye hae seen sixty or seventy yeare, ilka ane o^ ye, an' yei- aiild faces just say to nie, * We hae served our Maister threescore years thcgither, an' we're no tired servin' Him yet.' " It does not surprise one to be told that this reference to the old women put them in a state of visible emotion. The tjuaint homeliness thus manifested in the lesson and in the senrion found a place now utuI again in the prayers ; and a west country divine, in the course of a wet harvest, in prayinfij for more suitfiblc weather, expressed himself thus: — "O Lord, f^ie us nae mair wattcr for a season, but wind — plenty o' wind, an' yet, O Lord, nane o' yer rantin', tantin', tearin' winds, but an oughin', soughin', winnin' wind." Another, similarly circumstanced, prayed " that the floodgates of heaven might be shut for a season." This was towaids the close of a protracted period oi' rain and storm, and the weather had never beeti MOi-se than on this particular Sablmth. And, just as the good man pei-sisted in his petition, a fierce gust of wind bore the roof- window of the church down >sith a crash, ^\•hich was succeeded by a terrific clatter of broken glass. "Oh," he exclaimed, assuming an attitude of despair, "() Lord, this is perfectly ridiculous ! " He was more of a Dhilosopher who, when his good lady told him that tie did not insist enough when 65 \'i V nim 'a I :» I ( / THISTLEDOWN ' praying i'ov u change of woatlier, replied, "Nae use ii insistin', Marget, until the change o' the nuine."" The pa;-itor of a suiall congregation ot Dissentcis in tlie West of Scotland, who, in prayer, often employed terms of familiarity towards the (Jreat Being whom he invoked, was praying one day that .such weather would be granted as was necessary for the ripening and gathering in of the iruits of the eai'th, wiien, pausing suddenly, he added in a lower tone of voice — " But what needs I talk ! When I was up at the Shotts the other day, everj'thing wjvs as green jus leeks ! " The Rev. Dr. Voung, of Perth, used to he ainioyed by a couple coming to church, sitting away in the gallery, " ssh-ssh " as they talked in lovei^' languaj|^' all through the service. lie could stand it no longer, so one Sunday he stop[)ed in the nnddle of his sermon, looked up to the gallery, and said, " If that couple in the right hand galleiy there will come to me on Monday I will marry them for nothing, if they will stop that 'ssh-ssh"'!" The Rev. John Ross, of Blairgowrie, indulged a propensity for vei-sifying in his pulpit announce- ments, and one day, at the close of the service, intimated that / ;tt " The Milton, the Hilton, Rochabie, and Tammamoon, Will a' be examined on Thiu-sday afternoon." And now we are induced to follow our subject out of the pulpit and into the wider sphere of pa.storal 66 I OLD SCOTCH DIVINES iifc. U, was lu'J'c nun'f particularly that the puDgent and ready wit of the famous Watty Dunlop got full it'igii and enjoyed free play. The best known aturdote of this worthy relates to an occasion when he happened to be accompanying u funeral thiough a straggling village in the parish of Cjverlavei-ock. Kntering at one end of the luunlet he nict a man dnving a flock of geese. The wayuaitl disposition of tlie feathered bipeds at the moment was t(M) much for the driver's temper, and he indignantly cried out, "Deevil choke ye!" Mr. Dunlop walked a little fui-ther on, and passed a fann-stead where a servant was driving a nunilx;r of swine, and baiming them with "Deevil tak' ye!" Upon which Mr. Duidop stepped up to him, and said, " Ay, ay, my man, yer gentleman '11 be wi' ye i' the noo ; he's jast back the road there a bit chokin' some geese till a man." Than Mr. Dunlop few ministers were more esteemed by their congregations as faithful and affectionate pastoi's, juid so much respected by all denominations. And no doubt his freedom of speech and frankness of manner were important factoi's in bringing about this hap])y result. Here we liave a capital example of his free and easy manner. While pm-suing his ])astoml visitations among some of the country members of his Hock, he came one evening to a farm-house where he was expected ; and the mistre.ss, thinking that he would be in nee8 I! OLD SCOTCH DIVINES ill a house at \^]iirli lu' whs visitini;, a peculiar sound vas liiunl to issue.' lioin his gruitcoat {Njckct. This was nrtcnvanls discovi-rcd to liavi- pHK-t'tHled ti"om H half-cliokflay off a trick on him. It was known tliat he wtus to dine with a minister whose house was situated close to the church, so that his return walk must be thiough the churchyard. Accordingly, some idle and mis- chievous fellows waited for him in the middle of tlie kiikyard, (hessed in the j)opularly accredited habihments of a ghost, hoping to put him in a terrible fright. " Is't a general risin*'?" inquired Watty, as he leisurely passed by the unco figui-e, "or are ve just tjikin* a daundcr ver lane ?" ^V\\Q celebrated Edward Irving had been lecturing at IXimfi'ies, and a man who passtnl as a wag in the ()9 ■*\ \ i m i t THISTLEDOWN ' ». '} H^ locality h;ui boon to hear him. He met Watty Dunlop the following day, who said — "Weel, Willie, man, an' what do }ou think o' Mr. Ii-v'ing ? " "Oh,'' said Willie, conteniptuousl; , *' the man's crack it." " Ah, Willie," rejoined Dunlop, oatting the man (juietly on the .shoulder, " but ye'U .if'ten .see a bnght light shinin' throu^:;h a crack." No ix;joinder was ever more pat. Of similar grit with the facetious Watty I>inilop was another Watty : to wit, the Rev. Walter Morrison, a well-known north coantiy divine. It is told of this worthy that when he was entreating the commanding oHicer of a regiment at Foii-George to pardon a poor fellow who had been sent to the halberls, the oHicer declared he would grant the culprit a free partion on the condition that Mr. Morrison should accord with the fii'st favour he (the officer) askwd. The preacher at once agi'eed. The favour wa.i to peri'oini the ceremony of baptisia for his young puppy. A merry party was invited to the christening, and nuich fun was expected at the minister's expense. But they had Ixt'n reckoning without their host. On his arrival, Mr. Mornson desired the officer to hold up the pup. " As I am a minister of the Kirk of Scotland," siiid he, " I must proceed accordingly." The Major said he asketi no more. " Well then, Major, I begin with the usual tjuostion — You acknowledge yourself the father of 70 \) OLD SCOTCH DIVINES this puppy?" The Major saw he had been over- reached, and threw away the animal amid the loud laughter of his brother officers. The humour of John Skinner, for sixty-four years the Episcopal minister of Longside, who was the friend and correspondent of Robert Bums, and the author of " Tullochgorum,"" "The Ewie wi' the Crookit Horn,"" "John o' Badenyon," and many other capital songs, w is of the finest quality, standing in that respect in striking contrast to the humour of the l^.P. minister of Dumfries. One specimen will suffice here, and I give it exactly as recorded by Dean Ramsay. Being present at a party (I think, says the Dean, at Lord Forbes''s), where were also several ministers of the EstablishmcTit, the convei'sa- tion over their wine turned, among other things, on tlie Prayer Book. Skinner took no part in it till one minister remarked to him — "The great fault I hae to your Prayer Book is that ye use the I^ord's Prayer sae aften. Ye just mak' a dishclout o't." Skinner's rejoinder was, " Verra true ; ay, man, we mak' a dishclout c/t, an' we wring't, an' we '..linj't, an' the bree o"t washes a' the lave o' our prayers." The reply was witty and cle\er, and \\ithout gall. Here you have another admirable example of the retort courteous. An old P^dinburgh Doctor of Divinity, whose nose and chin were both very k)ng, lost his teeth, and the nose and chin were thus 71 > 't\ II THISTLEDOWN ifi': brought, like the nose and chin of WiUie Wastle s wife, to " threaten ither." A friend of his, accord- ingly, looking hiui broad in the face, jokingly obseived — " I am afraid, Dtxrtor, your nose and chin will fight before long ; they approach each other verj' menacingly,"" " I am afraid of it myself," was the ready and good-humoured reply, " lor a great many \vord>5 have passed between them alreatly."" The llev. Dr. Lawson, of Selkirk, a pious, able, and esteemed man, was reputed for indulging in those sallies of humour which not unfrequently avail in con\eying salutary council wlu-n a graver uiethml would prove ineffectual. His medical advisor, says Dr. (Jharles llogcrs, had conti'ucted the unvc^hy habit of using profane oaths. The Doctor hi.' v rit for him to consult him upon the state of his health, when, after hearing a narrative of his complaints, the physician rather angrily said, " Danm it, sir, you are the slave of a vile habit, and you will not soon recover unless you at once give it up." " And what is the liabit you refer to .'' " inijuirud the patient. " It is your practice of smoking — the use of tobacco is injuring your constitution." " I find it is an expensive habit," said Di-. T^awson, "and if it is injuring me I shall abandon it; but will you permit me to give you a hint, too, as to a vile habit of your own ; and which, were you to give 1 ' 71* n If OLD SCOTCH DIVINES it up, would tx- a i^eat benefit to yourself tiiid com- fort to your friends r " "What is that: " iiu|(iii-od the M.D. " I refer to youi- habit of profane swearing," rephed the divine. " Tnie," said Dr. , " but that is not an ex- pensive habit, like youi-s,"" "Doctor!" rejoined Luwscn, "I warn you that you will discover it to be a very expensive habit indeed when the account is handed to you." Anotlier anecdote of a similar nature is recorded of tins divine. He w;us diiiing at a friend's house. A gentleman of the party was, in conversation, frequently employing the words, "The devil take me." Dr. Lawson at length arose, and ordered his horse. The host was surprised, and iisisted upon his remaining, as dinner had scarcely begun. But nothing could prevail on him to do so ; and when pressed to give a reason for his abrupt departure, he replied, "That gentleman there" (pointing to him) "has been praying that the devil would take him ; and as 1 have no wish to be present at the scene, I beg to be allowed to depart." At a subsequent period of his niinistiy. Dr. Lawson was appointed Professor in the Divinity Hall of the Associate Church. One morning he ap])eared in tlie Hall with his wig somewhat toiisie and all on one sitle, A student whispered to his neighhoni", "See, his v.ig is no re a storv of another Selkirk minister — Mr. Law, afterwards of Kirkcaldy — who was equally remark- able with Dr. Lawson for wit and satire, piety and talent. 'I'liere was a sort of scoffing chai'acter in the town in ^vhich Mr. l^aw lived, connnonly called Jock Hanmion. Jock had a nickname for Mr. Law, which, though piofane, had I'efcrence to the well-known evangelical character of his ministry. "There's the gi'ace of (Tod," he would say, as he saw the good viian j)a.ssing by ; and he actually talkerl of hi)n under that designation. It so happened that Mr. Law had on one occfision consented to take the chair at some public meeting. The hour of meeting was past, the place of meeting was filled, but no minister appean d. Symptoms of imy)atience were manifested, when a voice Mas heard from one coi'ner of the hall — "My treends, there will be nae '(liace of God' here this nicht !" Just at this moment the door opened and Mr. Law appeared, casting, as he entered, a rather knowing look upon Jock Hannnon, as Jock ejaculated these words. On taking the chair Mr. Ljiw apologised for being so late. " I had," he said, "to go into the countiy to preside at the examination of a village school, and really the young folks conducted themselves so well that I 74 OLD SCOTCH DIVINES coukl scarce get away from them. If you please, I will give you a specimen of the examination. I <'alled up an intelligent-looking girl, and asked her if she had ever heard of any one who had erected a gallows for another and wlio liad been hanged on it himself? 'Yes,' replied the girl, 'it was Haman.' With that up started another little girl, and she said, 'Eh, minister, that's no true; Hammon's no hanged yet, for I saw him at the public-hoose door this forenoon, and he was swearing like a trooper!'"' (Tpon this there wjis a considerable tittering among the audience, and eyes were directed to the corner where Jock was sitting.) " You are both quite right, my deal's,'' said Mr. Law. " Your Hainan was really hanged, {is he deserved to be; and" (turning towards the other) " your Hammon, my lammie, is no hanged yet — by ' the grace of God,' " he added, with a solenniity of tone which removed every thought of irreverence from the allusion. Very sharp and stinging was the wit and satiie of the well-known Thom of Govan. One day when he was preaching before the magisti-ates, he is reported to have suddenly halted and said, " Dinna snore ^ae loud, Bailie Brocm, ye'll wauken the Provost." On another occasion, the cii'cumstances of which Mere very similar, he suddenly st()p()ed in his discourse, took out his snuff-box, tapped it on the lid, and took a pinch of snuff with the greatest of deliberation. l^v• this time the whole congregation was agog with eager curiosity to know what was wi-ong. Mr. Thom, r 75 > ■ (." /( \ i''' i«:M THISTLEDOWN fli after a little, gravely proceeded to say, " My fiiends, Fve had a snuft', and the Provost has h.'ul a sleep, and, if ye like, we'll just begin again." A country laird, near Govan, who had lately been cle\ated to tbe position of a count} magistrate, meeting Mr. Thom one day on hoi"seback, attempted jocularity by remarking that he was moie ambitious than his Mastei', who was content to ride upon an ass. "They canna be gotten noo," replied Thom; "■ they're a' made Justices o' the Peace." Of the Rev. James Robertson, of Kilmaniock, who was possessed of high attaimncnts as a theologian and scholar, there are many good stories. Like many another divine, Mr. Robertson wtvs often annoyed by those basybodies who take charge of everyone's business but their own. One day, when preaching upon the besetting sins of different men, he ix'uuuked, using a well-known Scottish saying — " Every ano, my friends, has his ain di-aff'-pock. Some hae their draff-pock hingin"* afore them; ithei's, again, hae their draft-pock hingin"' 'dient them ; but I ken a man that sits in my ain kirk that has draft- pocks hingin' a' around him. An' wha dae ye think that is 'i A'body kens wha I mean — nae ither than Andro' OliphantV' Mr. Robertson's precentor displeased him very nmch by his loud singing, and accordingly was not only often reproved, but even stopped by him after connnencing the psalm. One morning a tune was started upon a key a little higher even than usual. OLD SCOTCH DIVINES when Mr. Rolx'rtson rose up in tlie pulpit, nnd, tapping the musical worthy on the head, thus addressed him — " Andro', Andro', man, do you no ken that a toom barrel aye soonds loudest ? " Preaching before the Associate Synod at Glasgow, he introduced the probability of a French invasion as a punishment for national sin ; and while admitting the inunoral character of the infliction, he assui'ed his hearers that " Providence wasna always nice in the choice of instruments for punishing the wicketl- ness of men." "Tak'," he continued, "an example frae amang yersel's. Your magistrates dinna ask certificates o"" character for their public executionei"s. They generally select sic clanjainphrie as hae rubbit shouthers wi' the gallows themsel's. And as for this Bonyparte," continued the preacher, " I've telFd ye, my friends, what was the beginning o' that man, and ril tell ye what will be the end o' him. He'll coine doon like a pockfu"* o' goats' horns at the Broom ielaw ! " The Rev. Dr. M'Cubbin, of Douglas, had a humorous faculty peculiar!}- his own, and once at least was able to turn the tables on such an incor- rigible joker as the Hon. Heiuy Erskine. They met at the dinner-table of a mutual friend. There was a dish of cresses on the table, and the doc':or took such a hearty supply, and devoured them with such relish, using his fingers, that Erskine was tempted to remark that his procediu'e reminded him of Nebuchadnezzar. "Ay," retorted Dr. M'CuVuin, 1 1 l.\ JVf « n » > •t^l i#» «' .ti ill J ^^ THISTLEDOWN V " that'll be because I'm eatin' amaug the brutes, I suppose." But the wit of the old fathers and brethren M'as generally keenest when turned against the wearers of their own cloth. On one occasion, when coming to church. Dr. Macknight, who was a much better commentator than preacher, having been caught in a shower of rain, entci-ed the vestiy soaked through. Every means were employed to relieve him from his dis- comfort, but as the time drew on for divine service he became very querulous, and ejaculated over and over again, " Oh, I wish that I was dry ! Do you think that I am diy ? Do you think I am diy enough now ? " Tired by these endless complaints, his jocose col- league. Dr. Heniy, the historian, at last replied, " Bide a wee, Doctor, an' ye'll be dry enough, Tse warrant, when ye get into the poopit." It was a very dri/ joke indeed. The Rev. Dr. Dow, of Errol, and the Rev. Dr. Duff', of Kilspindie, long maintained a warm and un- interrupted intimacy. Once, on a New Years Day, Dr. Dow sent to his friend, who was a great snuffer, a snufF-box filled with snuff, and inscribed thus — " Dr. Dov/ to Dr. Duff, Snuff! Snuff! Snuff!" The minister of Kilspindie resolved not to be out- done either in generosity or pungent humour. The pastor of Errol, though withal a sober and exemplary 78 llr. >' OLD SCOTCH DIVINES man, was known to enjoy a glass of toddy with his friends. So his clerical brother rctaliatwl on him with the present of a hot-water jug, bearing on the hd this couplet — ■ " Dr. Duff to Dr. Dow, Fou! Foil! Fou!" Shortly after the disruption of the Church of Scotland, two clergymen — father and son — ^wcre dis- cussir.g the coiiiparative merits of the Churches to which they belongtHl. The father, an uj)holdi'r of Erastianism, liad remained faithful to the Church in which he liad been ordained ; the son hud joined the Non-intrusion paity, and attached himself to the Free Church. The son expatiated at great length on the superiority of his Church over that of his father ; of the advantages of its freedom from State control ; of the privilege of its members to elect their own ministei-s ; of its activity and zeal for the diffusion of religion, etc. ; and while he did so, did not hesitate to pick holes large and many in the discipline and government of the Church with which his father had been so long connected, and from which he himself had so recently seceded. In his estimation the Auld Kirk h.ul faidts innumerable, the Free Church none. After liearing him for a while, the father closed the conversation by saying — "When 1/our Kirk's lum, Andrew, has been as lang reekin* as mine, Tm thinkin*' ye'll find, lad, it will then n?ed swecpin'' too." The R( V. Dr. Gillan, of Inchinnan, was a ready 7i il't^ i f THISTLEDOWN \^ 11^ ■'1 wit, of vhoin a miiuiu'r of capital .stories arc told, uinoiig tluiii bfiii^ the following: — Oiu; day a young ilder, making his iirst appearance in the Gliusgow I'resbytery, modestly sat down on the very edge of a IkiicIi near the door. My and by the minister who jiad been sitting at the other end rose, and the young elder was just falling off when the door opened and Dr. Gillan entered, who, catching him in his arms, with liis usual readiness exclaimed, "Sir, whi-n you come to this place }()U must try and stick, to the Jorvis of the Church." Among the j)reachers who occupicnl the pulpits in Scotland in the days of other years, these fitful glances tend to reveal, were men not less famous for their elo(|uence and earnest preaching than for their wit and humour and popular eccentricities of chai-- acter ; and they were certainly not the less effective as pastors and preachers that they now and again ga\e reign to their fancies, aiid were moved to laughter like ordinary men. How much ha\e the keen lunnorous sensibilities of Spurgeon, and MocKly, and ^M'Xeill, and others that might be named, contributed to the effectiveness of their pulpit ministrations ? Indeed, there have been few great preachers, in any time or place, who have not had a lively sense of humour; although the converee, of course, does not obtain. The great Dr. Guthrie; the grand Dr. Nornuui Macleod ; the erudite Dr. .Vnderson, of Glasgow ; and the elo({uent Gilfillan, of Dundee, were all humourists of the firs^ water. 80 M I / ^rv OLD SCOTCH DIVINES Uctt'rrin^ to flu.' tai-t tliut, I'lu-h successive gcntT.i- tioii coiisidt'is itself' a vn.st iiiiprovcnu'iit on it.s pivdcccssor, Di". (iutlii"ie once said, "• I tliodit that my liithor rijilly didua kiii very imickle, hut my ladd'ies seem to tliiuk Vux a lioni idiot." Dr. Norman Maeleod's f'acidty of humour was well known everywhere, for it manifested itself in various ^vays — most efl'ectively, })erhaps, in lyrical measures such as "The Wa^t^in' (/ oor l)o*, \FI'f"W THISTLEDOWN scription from him to aid in putting a stove in the church, which, he said, the congregation found very cold. " Cauld, sir, cauld ? " snorted the chief heritor ; " then warm them up wi' your doctrine, sir. John Knox never askit for a stove in his kirk." K(jU!illy pungent was the retort which issued from a country pew on the north of the Tay. " Ye're sleepin"*, John,"^ said the minister, pausing in the middle of a humdrum discoui-se, and looking hard in the direction of the drowsy member thus addressed — "Tak' a snuff, John." "Put the snuff in the sermon," grunter " Ileadin", is he ?" said the eulogist, changing her tone. "The jmltry fellow! We'll gang hame, Jenny, and read our Book." In 1772, when Dr. Thomas Blacklock, the well- known poet, who was blind, was preaching one of his trial discourses on the occasion of his being presented, by the Earl of Selkirk, to the living of Kirkcudbright, an old woman who sat on the pulpit stairs incjuired of a neighbour if she thought he was a reader. " He canna be a reader," was the reply, "for he's blind." " Fm gljid to hear it," said the ancient dame ; " I wish they were a' blind ! " The ladies have always exercisetl a lively surveill- ance of the pulpit, and vendetl many an apt criticism. " How did you like that young man we had to-day ? " was once asked of a discerning village matron. 90 f I* •• rl '• ^^ iM^ ■H\\ ■■■^: \ \ [>■" rr ■< •■I-..- k 11 <, -i-»*«.«*'» ■■ r* •• >I'F«rf-4~«« ' • (f 7 -'--^''-J^;;./:^' *,': III- •v IH'^I Lr{H»U s I lirf I' '1^ f ..' "*'■! r i/i' ' .j '.'|fi ii '.1 '•■i'\ ■ V IV • - II ','vi /.. \ ) h>i: I. .t i i, ■!.' M'' t! I . '1,(1 1 ^ ;l / .» [><"- ■( ''^ i;,-.f ' u .'. -i '■n: W- u II . •. r> 'i' I 1 ■ •» . 1 ju; ')■ '■'! u. 'V !''■'»(. .1 h I-. . «» I ' ii , ' I » t ,,fl r 1 ' I i.f |1 ,l.lt' -( ■-« ;j- I i {<,,Vv ■111 ^'J•l^ Wj' Ilifi ••f;* J I " Weel, I had just thiee fauts to his sermon : firstlv, it was read ; and, secondly, it wasna weel read; and, thirdly, it wasna worth readin* ! '—Page 91. 1 I i} \ i\ ■ « ^t, ^ ' a \ THE PULPIT AND THE PEW " Weel, I had just three faiits to his sermon,'" was the reply. " And what were these, if I may ask ? "^ "Weel,'" said she, "firstly, it was read; and, secondly, it wasna weel read ; and, thirdly, it wasna worth readin'' ! " A sweeping criticism, and no mistake. Dr. Norman Macleod was once preaching in a district in Ayrshire, where the reading of a sermon was regarded as the greatest fault a minister conld be guilty of. When the congregation dispersed, an old woman, overflowing with enthusiasm, addressed her neighbour with, " Did ye ever hear on3^hing sae grand ? Wasna that a sermon ? " " Oh, ay,"" replied her friend sulkily, " but he read it." ^^ Read it,'" reiterated the other with indignant emphasis, " I wudna hae cared gin he had whuatled Mr How the great Norman would enjoy this we can easily imagine ! And yet it was not always plain sailing with the preacher who was a victim to " the paper." A cei'tain minister had a custom of merely writing the heads of his discoui-ses on small bits of paper, which he arranged and placed on the Bible before him, to be used in succession. One day, while he was expounding the second head, he became so excited in his manner that by a wave of his afm the ensuing slip was, unperceived by himself, swept over G 91 / \'.\ m vr-' m I A. ■ !ii sr,' 4% UlMlfl I I . II 'il ttr THISTLEDOWN the cxlge of the pulpit, and, being caught in an air current in falling, was carried right out through the window, which for ventilation sake had been left partly open. On reaching the end of the second, he looked down for the third slip, but, alas! it was not to be found. " Thirdly," he cried, looking i-ound him with great anxiety. After a little pause, " Thirdly," he again exclaimed, but still no thirdly appeared. "Thirdly, I say, my brethren," pursual the bewildered clergyman, but not another word could he utter. At this point, while the congrega- tion were partly sympathising in his distress, and partly rejoicing in such a decisive instance of the evil of using notes in preaching, an old woman came to the minister's rescue with the remark — " Deed, sir, ye needna fash yersel', for thirdly gaed oot at the window a quarter o' an hour syne." That clergyman had not the inventive ingenuity of a Perth minister I have heard about. The latter had one really good sermon, which he styled the "White Horse," and on occasions when he was called out to preach, which were few and far between, he invariably trotted out his " White Hoi-se." On one occasion he arranged to conduct the forenoon service in a church at some considerable distance, the regular minister of which being from home expected to return in time to preach himself in the afternoon. In the forenoon, the " White Horse " did the usual gallant service, but in the interval of public worship, the intelligence arrived that some untoward circum- 92 ;i. ii,i 2en, On THE PULPIT AND THE PEW stance had prevented the native clergyman''s return, and that he (the Perth divine) would require to conduct the afternoon service also. Here was a demand which our Boanerges fi-om the Fair City had not calculated on. He had brought no other sermon with him, and, even although he had, it would not have sustained the impression made by the " White Horse." What was to be done.'' A momenfs reflection, and the difficulty was removed. " My dear brethren," said he, when he stood up in the place of execution in the afternoon, " it was told to me in the interval that some of you when leaving the church were saying that the sermon which I preached from this place in the forenoon was not sound doctrine. I maintain that it was perfectly sound ; and as I wish to convince everyone of you that it was so, I now ask you to give me your attentive hearing and I will preach the sermon over again." And he did. The heix) of the next story was like unto the author of the " White Horse " :— A Scotch gentleman, previous to a Continental tour, engaged as a travelling companion, a rather dissolute and ignorant Highland student, named Alexander IMacpherson. Before they had been long abroad, the gentleman, to his regret, found himself compelled to part with his compagnon de voyage owing to his intemperate habits, and heai-d no more aljout him for several years. Happening, however, to drop into a secluded little Dissenting chapel in 93 ',?! ■'t-' 1.^ h h't '>' ''f 7S 'I i 1 li 1' ■■ ( 'i^ THISTLEDOWN Wales, presided over by the Rev. Jonas Jones, as the board at the little gate revealed, he was jiston- ished to find his dismissed servitor officiating in the pulpit, and astounded to hear him several times during the reading of the preliminary chapter turn the English into Highland Gaelic, prefacing his translation always in a sententious manner by the words, "or, as it is in the original," and he was further jistonished to hear from several of the congregation that Mi*. Jones passed among them as a man of deep learning. After the conclusion of the service, he accosted the minister as he was leaving the church without any signs of recognition on that worthy's part. " Do you not know me ? "" cried the gentleman, grasping his hand. "Really, I beg your pardon, but there must be some mistake," said the minister, endeavouring to move on. " Oh, no mistake whatever, I assure you," returned the gentleman. " Are you not Mr. 'f " " I am Mr. Jonas Jones," put in the pastor, hastily. "Aye," replied the gentleman, sarcastically, observ- ing that he was detennined to ignore all recollection of him, " or, a* it is in the original, Sandy Macpher- son o" Inveraray ! " To be "sound" was the main essential in those days. A certain clergyman had been suspected of leanings towai*ds Arminianism, or of being a Rationalist, and much anxiety in consequence was 94 : ij-lf' \''^% THE PULPIT AND THE PEW felt by the flock he was called on to superinteiul. He put their fears suddenly to flight, however, for he tinned out to be a sound divine as well as a good man. On the Monday after his sermon liad been delivered, he was accosted in his walk by a decent old man, who after thanking him for his able discourse, went on — "Od, sir, the stoiy gaed that you was a rational preacher ; but glad am I, and a' the parish wi' me, to find that you are no' a rational preacfier after a'." The minister thought it a dubious compliment, no doubt. An old farmer, wishing to pay his minister a compliment on the occasion of his being made a D.D., said, " I kent ye wad come to something, sir, for, as I have aye said, ye neither fear G(xl nor regard man." Speaking of the old-fashioned " rousing sermons *" with which some ministei's used to delight and terrify their hearers, Mr. Inglis, in his recent work Our A in Folk, relates a conversation that took place between two severe old Covenanters aftei hearing a sermon of this type. "What do you think o' that sermon, Jamie ? "" said Willie, as thej wended their way down the street. "Think 0%' said Jamie. "Man, it was jist a gran' sermon. 1 havena heard ane I likit better for mony a day. What do you think o't yerseP ? " " Ae, man,"" said Willie, "it was an awfu' sermon, a fearfu' sermon. It fair gar'd my flesh a' grue. Fm shiverin' yet, an Fm sure I canna tak'' my denner.'" " What ? " said 95 ^i 1^ ? II I ;' i ' .. h 'M i THISTLEDOWN Jamie, wi' a snort o' indignation ; " what do you want ? What wad ye ha'e, man ? Do you wtuit the man to slide ye down to hell on a buttered plate ! " A little band of old women on their way home from the kirk on the evening of a special day''s preaching, shortened the road by discussing the merits of the various divines who had addressed them, when one worthy dame thus honestly expressed herself, " Oh, leeze me abune them a'," exclaimed she, " for yon auld, held, clear-headed man that spoke sae bonnie on the angels. When he said, * Raphael sings, and Gabriel tunes his goolden herp, and a' the angels clap their wings wi' joy,"* oh, but it was grand ! It just put me in mind o' oor geese, at Dunjarg, as they turn their nebs to the south an' clap their wings when they see rain comin"' after a lang drouth." The Rev. Mr. Yule, a Perthshire divine, was in tlie habit of going through the village on the Sabbath afternoons in summer, and inviting the people to open-air service on the green in the evening. Entering one afternoon where there were a number of the inhabitants congregated for no special purpose further than the discussion of cuiTent local events, the good man had not time to deelare his mission when a douce village matron folded her hands complacently on her lap, and, looking towards the minister, said, "Eh! yon was a grand sennon ye ga'ed us this forenoon, Mr. Yule."" 96 V I ^i\ THE PULPIT AND THE PEW " I am gliwl you wore pleased with it, I am sure,'' the minister mo :■ ■: V'i's^:' THISTLEDOWN '^ !i " Sandy " Russel of the Scotsman-^was some years ago, it is sjiid, enjoying a brief holiday in a quiet Highland retreat, which aff'oi*ded excellent scope for the plying of the "gentle art," and the Sabbath coming round in due course, he resolved, in order to dispel the tedium of the day, to attend the village church. The worthy pai-son noted the intellectual- looking stranger among his sparse congregation, and, on making encjuiries, was informed of his pei-sonal identity. On the Monday following, the pareon took a walk along the river side and very soon encountered the popular editor busy with rod and line. "You are a keen fisher, I believe, Mr. Russel," was the preacher''s introductory remark. " Yes, I am, pastor," was the instant and decided reply, " I am a fisher too," remarked the minister dream- ily, " but a fisher of men ; " the latter words were delivered with great unction. " Oh, indeed," dryly responded the editor, " I had a keek into your creel yesterday ; ye didna seem to ha'e catch''d mony." Taking a walk through his parish one day a minister came upon a woman seated at her door reading a book, which he at once concluded was the New Testament, but which was really Blind Harry's Wallace. Expressing his gratification at finding her so well employed, he said it was a book which no one would ever grow weaiy reading. m 5 i» '^' J;> '*';\s*Jc-,-^^., § r ^U ■ t \ -%■' >. i- •: ^ s" W.>> > Wii— '< » ^tW iti I J W| ^ ICWJWO»fp.V.^i*-»*' •^i^^«»;>' ■-.H'ir ^^'vA>..il't-^'*-'-- ■ • imjtt/m tndnxd," thj/l? ffiijifm4ffi^ the An^fles, *• I hral « k«i,-k mi^i ytmr iictfl i^ itaiitl:£iim!..Mitidi,Sui'j *..L ■■! '!':■ ti* -'I THISTr FHOWNT (« ••^undy" Hu^t,,.! of tl,.3 .S' (rVfWf;;i— \v,us some v'enrs 'HV in a qiiiet M Pi>i Uili of thf •Hf, which »lfb,t!e,i ..xcelknt scupo (or til.. 44 .. 1 .... . • P'n«uwu-t.- and the SabUt f'';iivh. i'h ivi- to K-rt! hnr. W>i^ 'Hi'iicir-., M.is iidl '»f» tia. .Vto.idHv ffJ ^hVm"1 of i- Hy ft '->< {K'J-SOJitil j» d ( in •• ' **>'V)UJ^. the <1 parson ilMi \;>iy soon ».Jn rti! ."i n Hi and '»•» arc H i.,^,. .j,^,.j , J >^itj( f.fy ;•, >'i''-, Mr. Hussei, •timH ivua,;.),n too.- ,,,,,,, ,,,„,} ,j,^ ^) << a /i 'i k'>n.k into •h'd ''er of m^'yi;- tht- J nvit un.'tUMi ininj.,l(-i- (b-c.-ifu l^te^ words w i'i'e tdocti/- dr> ly i'esp.::.d. .i\- you?- cn-ci vr^Uni rlu: f!f I'ak liijniih-j- Monv ^v; ye didiui sptun I i> I Mi/ ;|! 1 .ll; ;»• •*';^ 'li/tJO M rc.i,h. •>^! ■•f , iVuIL ^f» tV! irr. h aJM; ' h! h 1; '•■it vvi.irh V. •^oi.'.a' '. at (tjn'i) J'i*'«h ojic d,iy a d .-d I ►'iclddcv} K'l' d(»/ir H7ts the •II ■y jwirishionei-s were of the miruo mind, and what benefit it would be to themselves, too! For oh, to think, Janet, what He did and suffered for us ! " " Deetl, ay, sir, an"* thafs true," answered Janet, "an' to think how he soom'd through the Can-on water on a cauld frosty niornin', wi' his braidsword in his teeth. It was awfu' ! " The Rev. Mr. M'Dougall was one of those preachcre who keep their heaiers awake by sheer strength of lung. Preaching one day in a strange church, he espied an old woman apj)lying her hand- kerchief veiy frequently to her eyes. Attributing her distress to a change for the better, he kept his eye on her, and at the close of the service, found an opportunity to speak to her, and swii and altcritivc listener, "tliis wee l)laek deev'lueU. we ea" He Mm ! \ i 'f- ^i: , N fA'i f Wil l:t I T V n I f :. THISTLEDOWN when the following convei-sation took place : — " Do you know who that was, Mary, that came to see you last week ?" "No, my lady," was the reply. "Tlie famous Bishop of Oxford,"''' said her ladyship. On which the denizen of the mountains (juietly remarked, " Aweel, my lady, he's a rale fine man ; and a' I can say is, that I trust and pray he'll gang to heaven — Bishop though he be ! " " I hope you have made due preparation, and are in a fit state to have the Sacrament of Baptism administered to your child, John," said a minister to one of his parishioners, a ploughman, who had called at the manse in connection with a recent event in his domestic circle. " Weel," said the ploughman, "I haena been ower extravagant in the way o' preparation, maybe. Fm a man o' sma' means, ye ken ; but Fve gotten in a bottle o' whisky and the best hauf o** a kebbuck o' cheese." " Tuts, tuts ! " interrupted the minister, " I do not mean preparation of the things that perish. Is your mind and heart in proper condition ?'^ "Do you mean that Fm no soond in the head?" queried the ploughman. " No, I do not mean that at all," said the divine. " You do not appear to have an intelligent idea of the matter that has brought you here." Then, after a minute's reflection, he continued — " How many Connnandments are there, John ? " " I couldna tell ye jist exactly on the spur o' the 108 THE PULPIT AND THE PEW the meenit,^ said John, scratching his hwul, "but tlieiL'\s an auld btuk lyin"" i' the hoose yonder, gin I htid it here I could sune answer yer question."''' " John," sfiid the nnnister, "I am afraid you are not in a fit state to hold up your child for baptism." "No fit to baud him U[)?" echoed the ploughman, starting to his feet, and posing in the attitude best calculated to display hia great muscular foruK " Me ? Man, I could baud him up gin he were a bull stirk ! " And ludicrous incidents have occurred even in the supreme moment occupied by the ceremony of the baptism of a child, and when no one was veiy seriously to blame. In Paisley, some time ago, the father of a child was from home at the time of its birth, and was not expected to return for two or three months. The mother, desiring that the baptism of the child should not be delayed so long, was consequently obliged to present the infant herself, the ordinance being administered in private. The officiating clergyman was an old man, who, when in the act of dispensing the sacrament, asked the name by which the child was to be called. The mother, who had a thickness in her speech, politely said, " Lucy, sir." "Lucifer!" exclaimed the old and irritable divine, in exasperated horror, " I shall baptise no child by the name of the Prince of Darkness, madam. The child's name is John." But perhaps the very best specimen story on 109 ^ i .k u. f-" J LM « V: ^U^ T jT 7^ 1)1 r i J i THISTLEDOWN record is the wtH-knowii one which is as.mx:iated with the iimiie of llulph Ei-skine, the father of the Scottish Secxsaion Kirk, and wliich the late Robert Leighton, the poet, rendered so happily into rhyme under the title of "The Biipteezenient o' the Huirn." Mr. Krskine was a most proficient performer on the violin, and so often beguiled his leisure hours with this instrument that the people of Dunfermline believed he composed his sermons to its tones, as a poet writes a song to a particular air. But to the stoiy : — A poor man in one of the neighbouring parishes having a child to baptise resohed not to employ his own clergyman, with whom he wjis at issue on certain points of doctrine, but to have the office performed by some minister of whose tenets fame gave a better repoit. With the child in his arms, thei-efore, and attended by the full complement of old and young women who Uaually minister on iiuch occfisioiis, lie 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 the noo," answered the servant lass : " hd doon the bum fishing ; but I can surie cry him in." " Ye needno gie yerseP the trouble," replied the man, quite shocked at this account of the minister s habits, " nane o' yer fishin' ministers shall bapteeze my bairn." Off he then trudged, followed by his whole train, to the residence of another parochial clergyman, at 110 THE PULPIT AND THE PEW the distaiK t of some miles. Here, cmi his iiujulring if tlu! iiiinisttT UJ18 at home, the lass answered : " Deed, he's no at hunie the day; he's been oot since sax i' the nioniin' at the shooting. Ye newiiia wait, neither; for he'll be sae dune oot when he comes back, that he'll no be able to miy boo to a goose, lat-a-be kii-sten a wean." *' Wait, lassie ! '' cried the man, in a tone of indignant sconi ; "wad I wait, d'ye think, to hand up my baim afore a minister that gangs oot at s»ix i' the mornin* to shoot (rod's creatur's ? I'll awa doon to glide Mr. Erskinejit Dunfennline; and lie'll be neither oot at the fishin', nor shootin', I'm thinkin'." The whole baptismal train then set off' for Dun- fennline, sure that the father of the Secession, although not now a placed minister, would at leas*; be engaged in no unclerical sports to incapacitate him for performing the sacred ordination in (juestion. On their arriving, however, at the house of the clergyman, which they did not do till late in the e\ening, the man, on rapping at the door, antici- pated that he would not be at home any more than his brethren, as he heard the strains of a fiddle proceeding from the upper chandK-r. " The minister '11 no be at hame," he said, with a sly smile to the girl who came to the door, " or your lad wadna be playin' that gate to ye on the fiddle." "The minister is at hame," quoth the girl, "mair be token it's himsel' that's playin', honest man ; he 111 4 t| ■\ 1 1 !} * 'l I * f riiisi Li:i)owN 1, '11 i iiyo tali's II Imu' at niilil, aloi** lu* j^uii^s to Im'»1. I'uilli, tli(>i'r'.s iiMc Im(1 o' iiiiiic ran play llial. |^al<'; it wad Im' sdint'lliiii^ to tril il'oii\ «»' llicm roiild." " Thitt the nuiiislcr playiiT!" nifd the man, in u dcgii't' 1)1" Ihhioi- and a-slonislnncnt iar li'iinsci-ndinj^ uliat lu' had «'\|)i<'s.s«' a' tlirj^ithti, 1 liavc lravrl!»'tl this hale «lay in scairh u' a f^odly ministrr, uiT nr\('i' man met. wi^ niair disa|>|>«>inlm«-nt in a day's jonnu'v. Til till ytMvhal,^nd»\vit'r," lu* added, lurnini^ ti) tluMhsi»>ns«)latt' parly hi'hind, '* w-fMl jnsl awa' hack to oor ain minisliT afltT »i\ llt-'snoa' tlu'i^ilhir siu)nd, it's fruc; bnl lal him he what hv liki's in doclrini', cK'il haV me, if vwv I kcimM him U) tlsh, shin)l, «)r pliy on the liddlf in u' his days ! " WodtUn^s ha\i* hri'n the oirasion of mnoh joy in tlio wiuld, and an* clusUn-d annnid with capilnl stones, "tieanie, lassie," said un old Cumeronian t4) his dan^litiT, who was Jiskiii^ his permission to many, *' nnnd ye, it'sasolenm Ihinj^ lo^el marrinl." " I ken that, laitluT," ri'tnnied the sensible Ijuss, "but it's a soK'mner thin^ no to be maiTied." "It's the n)ad wi>'\e tC to <^ani^," said the short - siijhled old niaiil, soUinnly, mistaking a passing eliding party for u funeral procession. So also w stvmed to think the lu'roineof the folU)winir uneedoti aiu 1 no vi'u^tiike nbont it : — A clerirvn lan, navnig thn>e tintes refused to marry xi man who had as often ctHue Ivfoi-e him drunk, on the third oecjusion said )^y riiK puLPir AND riii to llic woiiimi, "■ VVI J.liiit Nliitf r " " Vlvnsr Iirti I ly do voii briii|^ /oiii" iTvrr.iuM- ^n\( i si I w If s Molicr", 'I'Ik; Kcv. Dr. Wif^'lilnwin, u\' KiiKii 'dimple iiiiii)iro\Ml of the \i .\<'eordiii<.^ly, tlie Doctor waited upon and, slat iii^ liis ease, the jfood woman, Ills proposid, pas.sed the iisiuil Seoll i.sh complimen "''Died, Doe I or, ye' re Car ower j^iide ("or our .lanet/' " VVeel, wt'ei," was the iiistnnt. rejoinder, " ve keii best; so we'll .say na mairuhoot it." And he lu-vei' did, iil!hoii<^h the social iiilcreouise of the parties eoiitiniied us helori"; and lorly y«am uller Doctor VVi^htmaii died an ol(i hachelor, nnd tin; a//inv ilius "My IViends,'"' he would say, " mui- ria^e ;■> .*. tilessin|^ to some, >i curse to miuiy, and a ^reat risk ro .Jl. Now, do yon ventu.. .' And no ohjections being made -"Then let us j)roceed "^ A cler^ yinan, in mai'rying u couple, failed at the crucial part of the service to 4)l)tain li.ny indicaticju from the l)ridef.^room as to wliethei he would acce|){. the bride Jis his helpmeet. iUtir a considerable ■» I 'x THISTLEDOWN pause, the bride indignant at the stolidity of her intended husband, pushed down his head with her hand, at the same time ejaculatin<^, " Canna ye boo» ye brute ? " That young lady should have been coui'ted by the hero of the next story. Some time ago a couple went to a clergyman to get united in the bands of wedlock. As the custom is, befoi'e pronouncing their doom, the minister asked the bridegi'oom if he was willing to tak ' the young voman whom he now held by the ^ nil to be his lawful wife. He n(Klded assent. The bride was then asked the same question. " No sii-," said she. " WHiat are your reasons," asked the worthy divine, " for drawing back after you have come this length?^' "Oh," replied she, hanging down her head, "I haV just taV-n a scumicr at him." They accordingly went away ; but in about a wvek they returned. When the minister asked her if she now consented to take this man to be her husband, " Ves, sir," was the answer. He then asked the biim if he was willing to take this woman to be his wife. " No, sir," he rej)lied. "And what hjis come over you no v.?" incjuii-ed the minister, in a tone of surprise. " Oh," said he, " I ha'e just taV'ii a scunner at her." And so away they went a second time without being mairied. 114 I i THE PULPIT AND THE PEW They came back a third time, however, in about a fortnight after, now both thoroughly resolved ; but when the minister siiw them coming, he hurried down-staii-s and shut the door, and, I'cturning to his study, cried over the window to them — " For gudesake, gae awa' hame, you twa, for Fve ta'en a scunner at you baith ! " "Eh, minister, I maist think shame to come to ye,*" said an old dame, who had sought the clergy- man's oHices in this way on four previous occasions. " What's the matter, Margaret, that you should think shame to come to me ? " "'Deed, sir, it's just this, I'm gaun to be married .again,'' " Well, Margaret, I do not see that you have any cause for shame in coming to me for such a pur|K)S€. Marriage, you know, is honourable in all." " Nae doot, sir, nae doot. But eh ! (bui-sting into tears) there never was surely ony puir woman fash'd wi' sic a set o' deein' men as I've had." Another dame who hud a similar experience in husbandry y took a brighter view of the situation. " Ay," she said, " first it was John Tamson, then it was Dawvit Soutar, syne Peter Andei-son, then Tanmias M'Farlane. N(M) it's Willie Simpson ; and eh ! I wonder whase dear Invib I'll be next ': " Tlie practice of house-to-house visitation and congregational catechising have yielded a host of anecdotes, one or two of which n\ust sutlice liere. A country minister, accompanied by one of his eldei-s, 115 ■ t i V (■,1 i ■\h In "i * li " \ \ ^ 'S' mt THISTLEDOWN was visiting in the most outlying parts of his parish, and I'urly in the afternoon arrived, after a long walk, at the house of a maiden lady, who kept a cow, a pig, and a few hens, etc. The house was so far removed from every other human habitation that anyone who reached it was in instant need of refresh- :;'.ent. On the arrival of her minister and elder, the f lf.dy accordingly produced the kebbuck, a dir ■• of milk, and a quantity of cakes. They were a welcome fejist, for the visitors were famishing of hunger after their long and arduous walk. They theiefore " laid their lugs amang "" the eatables in a style which struck terror to the heart of their extra frugal hostess. By and by, and still "pegging away " at the pile of cakes and whangs of well- seasoned cheese, the ministe- looked over to Janet and remarked that he was ^el•y glad to see her in the church on Sabbath last, and asked her if she remembered the subject of his discourse. " Ay, fine that,"" said she ; " "'twas the parable o"* the loaves an"" the fishes/"' " I'iXactly, Janet,"" said the minister ; " and what useful lesson did you derive from the exposition of the parable ? "" " Weel, naething particular at the time, sir, but I was just sittin' thinkin"' aboot it there a meenit syne/"' " Well, Janet, that is very interesting ; and what thought occurred to you a minute since in cojinection with the subject ? "" 116 \v THE PULPIT AND THE PEW " Weel, sir, I was just thinkin" that gin the elder an'' you had been aniang the multitude there wadna have been sae mony basketfu's left." The answers vouchsafed in diets of catechetical examinations were often shrewd, if sometimes ridicu- lous. " What are the decrees of God ? " was once asked of an old dame. " 'Deed, sir. He kens that best Himser,"'"' was the shrewd reply. "Why did the Israelites make a golden calf?"" was the question put to a little girl. " Because they hadna as muckle siller as wad mak' a coo,"" she replied. These examinations were invariably intimated from the pulpit, and the families in each district were invited to meet the minister on a certain day, at an appointed hour, and in a particular house. The farmers"* wives, not better informed than the humble parishioners, yet considered themselves superior persons, and afraid lest they should be affronted by having a question put to them that they could not answer, the catechiser was frequently bribed by a basketful of eggs and a few pounds of fresh butter being sent over to the manse on the morning of the diet. Thus, a certain minister was intercepted whilst crossing a moor on his way to the house of meeting one day. " Good moniing, Janet,"" said the divine ; " but are you not to present yourself at the diet of examination in the house of John Anderson, at noon to-day ? "" 117 I si '< 'Mr M. I ifi THISTLEDOWN " Ay am I, sir. Ou, deed, ay. But you see, sir, I just sent ower the lassie to the manse this mornin' wi' twa or tliree rows o' fresh butter and a curn eggs, d'ye see; an' I was just wantin' to say to ye, sir, that ye micht speir some easy question at me. Ifs no that I dinna read my Book, an' dinna ken, but I just get in a state o' the nerves, like, afore fouk, an' micht mak' a fule o' mysel' ; an' that's the reason I wad like ye just to ask some veiy simple question when my turn comes." " I'm surely obliged to you for your present, Jiiuuly"^ said the minister, "and, depend upon it, I shall be careful to give you a (question that will be easily answered." So saying, he bade her good morning and rode on. Janet was forward in time ; and when her turn came to be examined, the minister, remembering his pi'oniise, said— "Janet Davidson, can you tell me which is the Seventh Connnanduicnt .'' " Simple as the question would have been to many present, Janet could not answer it, and no voice responding, tlie question wfis repeated slowly and with emphasis on the wordH—Sevetith Commandment. Janet cast a beseeching look at the minister, and in a half repi-oving tone said — " Eh, sir, after yon on the muir the day, I didna think ye wad hae askit me that question ! " The people looked to one another with astonish- ment, whereu|K)n the minister prudently explained the whole matter. 118 Wher of Porti Ralph, i entering "Ila]| gude tin and I hi Perth. nie gang "With "Wee] easy to c; better no Scotch wj anither, a) "AfFror think he'll "Aweel ye had bet Tile in( Simpson, t of examina some to his to the last smith perp at once by question. simple preli senior nieml be cried out r !! WW" 4*i THE PULPIT AND THE PEW When the venerable Ebenezer Erskine was minister of Portmoak, his brother, the e(iually \Nell-known Ralph, afore-mentioned, paid him a visit. On his entering the manse Ebene/er exclaimed — " Ralph, man, Fm glad to see you, ye hae come in gude time. I have a diet of examination to-day, and I have also important business to attend to at Perth. Ye'll tak' the examination, v ill ye, and let me gang to Perth ? " " With all my heart," said Ralph. "Weel," said Ebenezer, "ye'U find a' my fouk easy to examine but ane, and him, I reckon, ye had better no meddle wi\ He has an auld-fashioned Scotch way o' answering a'e question by putting anither, aif he'll maybe affront ye." '* Affront me ! " said Ralph indignantly. " Do you think he'll foil me wi' my ain weapons ? " " Awecl," said his brother, " I gi'e ye fair wainiing, ye had better no ca' him up."" Tlie individual thus referred to ^vas Walter Simpson, the village blacksmith, who at former diets of examination had proved himself rather trouble- some to his minister. The gifted Ralph, indignant to the last degree at the idea of an illiterate black- smith perplexing him^ determined to encounter him at once by putting a grand, leading, unanswei-able question. Accordingly, after putting a variety of simple preliminary interrogations to some of the senior members of his brother's congregation present, he cried out w ith a loud voice, " Walter Simpson.'" 119 m •A' .". ( ■' if i i ( • i< I] 11 r ' ■' f h. ', i 1 ' ? i: I 1 1 )' THISTLEDOWN " Here, sir," responded the smith. " Now, Walter, attend," said the examiner. " Can ye tell me how long Adam continued in a state of innocence ? " " Oh, ay, sir ; just till he got a wife," said Vulcan ; " but can ye tell me how lang he remained innocent after that ? " " Sit down, Walter," said the discomfited divine, and proceeded to examine another. Scotch folks have each a mind of their own, which they respect. Still they are seldom found to be doggedly unreasonable. When it was proposed by the Secession congregation at Haddington to give a call to the afterwards celebrated Mr. John Brown, one of the adherents of the church expressed his decided opposition. Subsequent to his ordination, Mr. Brown waited on the solitary dissentient, who was threatening to leave the meeting-house. " Why do you think of leaving us ? " mildly enquiretl Mr. Brown. " Because," said the sturdy oppositionist, " I don't think you a good preacher." " That is quite my own opinion," replied the minister ; " but the great majority of the congregation think the reverse, and it would not do for you and me to set up our opinion against theirs. I have given in, you see, and I would suggest you might just do so too." " Weel, weel," said the grumbler, quite reconciled by the candidate's frank confession, " I think I'll just follow your example, sir." All differences were ended ; and afterwards, than this same individual, 120 h^ Can ye tell ine how long Adam continued in a state ot" innofenee !- " -I'ltqi' I. 'I I. P, •<■¥]/ i ) \'^w^ !• \ VM i r»i Vi wm , ./ i' u '• I* 1 'i!\ THE PULPIT AND THE PEW the Rev. John Brown had no (jrwitor aclniitx*r in the tov.ii of Haddington. Old Hack.stoini of Rathillet one day said to Mi-. Sniibert, the minister of Cupar, who, like himself, was blessed with a foolish, or rather wild, youth for a son — "D'ye ken, oir, you and I are wiser than Solomon." "How can that be, Rathillet?" inquired the startled clergyman. " Ou, ye see," said Hackstoun, " Solomon didiia ken whether his son was to be a fool or a a\ ise man : but baith you and I are quite sure that our sons arc fools." These anecdotes and illustrations possess a value distinct from the rich ore of humour they re\eul. They are redolent of the soil, and serve as " keek- holes " through which fitful glances are obtained of the mannei'S and customs of the " rude forefathei-s of the hamlet," and the easy relationship which in bygone days existed between the occupants of the pulpit and the pew . Here endeth thin lesson. : 1 1 m-^ < ' I • » ■ u ii II.' ' 121 iim )«!•. \ THISTLEDOWN CHAPTER V ■,'•1 , 'mv. OLD scorrisH ukadlk — his charactkr AND HUMOUR THE Ixadle, or bothcral — freqiuntly grave- tlig^tr, chinch officer, aiul minister's nuui all in one — bulks largely in every representative collection of the Scottish national humour iuul character — next to the minister here, indeed, Jis elsewhere — and furnishes the collector with his choicest specimens of Scotch wit and humour of the dry and Ciiustic order. The type of beadle, r urse, which fil'ty or a Innuhed yeai-s ago gave , and character to the class, and has made them famous in story and anecdote, is now almost a defunct species. This being so, let us turn aside and review the " bodie " where he is preserved, " in his manner Jis he lived," in the many stories and anecdotes which have survived him. See him there ! He is a shrewd, canny-goiiig, scranky-looking individual. Fond of snuff, and susceptible to the allurements of a sly dram. lie is proud of his office — the more solemn and conspicuous duties of which he perfoinis with a dignity of deportment and solemnity of countenance which casts the minister almost hopelessly into the shade. He is heard to speak of "7«^ and the minister ; " and should there chance to come a young 122 THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE ll./' probationer to occupy the pulpit for a day, who appeal's flurried and nervous just Ix-foit* lie is to luscend to the " place of execution," he (the preacher) will receive a kindly tap on the shoulder, and be warned not to let his feelings get the Ijetter of him. " I can never see a young chap like you gaun up into the poopit," he will continue, " without bein"' re- minded o' the first Sawbath that I took up the Bible. I shook like the leaf o' a tree ! I dinna shak' noo : an' ye'll get ower yer nervousness, too, sir, wi' practice, just as I ha'e dune. I fand it the best plan — an' dootless sae will ye, gin ye'U try it — never to think aboot what ye're doin\ nor wha's lookin' at ye, but just stap up the stair and gang through wi' the business as if you didna care a rap for a livin' sow! o' them." His intimacy with the minister — the semi-private work he performs about the manse, and elsewhere, affording him an occasional keek behind the solemnity that doth hedge a clergyman — places him on easy conversation with his reverend master, and of this circumstance much of his humour is bom and given to the world. The minister's condescendences towurus him not unfrequently have had the effect of giving him an exaggerated notion of his own importiuice. His knowledge of what is going on at the manse makes him a welcome visitor at the houses of the gossipiiig membei-s of the congregation ; and Dean Ramsay tells a story which admirably illustrates this interesting phase of his character. 1 128 .\ II '■ ',V ,n mi 1^ i THISTLEDOWN t i f ■ A certain country beadle had been sent round the parish to dehver notices at all the houses of the catechising which was to precede the preparation for receiving the Communion. On his return it was evident that John had partaken rather freely of refreshments in the course cf the expedition. The minister rebuked him for his improper conduct. The beadle pleaded the pressing hospitality of the parishioners. The preacher would not admit the plea, and added, "Why, John, I go through the parish, and you do not see me return home fou', as you have done.*" " Ay, minister," replied John, with an emphatic shake of the head, " but, then, ye're no sae popular in the parish as I am." The self-complacency of the reply could scarcely be surpassed. It is told of another of the consequential breed that being asked by a member of the kirk — one of the hinnbler order — if he knew whether or not the minister was to be preaching himself on the approach- ing Sabbath, he dryly replied, " It's ill for me to ken a' that the minister intends doin\ Come ye to the kirk, an' whether the minister"'s there or no, ye'U see me in the poopit as usual, at ony rate." *' Indeed, sir," said Robert Fairgrieve, the beadle of Ancrum, one day to the minister, " Huz (us) that are offish-bearers (meaning the minister and himself) should be examples to the flock." The self-same functionary when on his death-bed was visited by the minister, who was a little con- 124 THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE 1- cemed to find him in r restless and discontented humour. On enquiring into the cause of his un- easiness, Robert replied, " Weel, sir, I was just mindin' that I have buried 598 fowk since I was made bedral o' Ancruni, and I was anxious, gin it were His will, that I micht be spared to mak*' it the sax hunder." When beadle meets beadle, as is the common practice with persons in other walks of life, they enter glibly into a free-and-easy criticism of their respective chiefs. One is admittedly "strong in prayer," whilst another is set aside as "weak m doctrine,"" and so forth. "I think oor minister does weel," said one. *' Man ! hoo he gal's the stoure flee oot o' the cooshions ! " " Stoure oot o' the cooshions ! " sneered another. " If yeVe a notion o' powerfu' preachin"', come owre an^ gie us a day's hearin'. Wad ye believe it ? — for a' the short time yon man o' oui*s has delivered the Word amang us, he has knockit three poopits a' to shivers, an' has dung the guts out o' five Bibles ! " " The last minister I Wiis wi\" said one, " had a great power o' water ; for he grat, an' swat, an' spat like the very mischief." "Well, Saundei-s," said a country clergyman to his beadle on Monday morning, " how did you like that minister who was preaching for me yesterday ? " " Oh, just very middlin' ways, sir,'' replied Saunders. " Just very middlin' ways. He was far owre plain and simple for me. I like a preacher that junnnils 125 \- i> ' ) rV ;<1 ( I' i I i/ II 'i'S 'I k Ml THISTLEDOWN the joodgement and confoonds the sense awee ; and dod, sir, I never heard ony o' them that could beat yei-seP at that." Well said, Saunders ! There are many people about who estimate a preacher much in the same fashion — measure his eloquer by his success in "jummlin' their joodgement" and "confoondin' their senses." They desire sermons so " deep " that they cannot see to the bottom of them ; the more incom- prehensible the preaching, the more profound the preacher is declared to be. " Eh, he was grand the day ! " said an old lady on her return from church. " In what respect ? " inquired her lord and master. " Just terrible deep," said she. " I didna under- stand a word o't ; but, eh ! it was grand ! " " What makes you laugh, James ? " inquired a country minister of his beadle one Sabbath in the Session-house between the preachings, as the humbler functionary stirred up the fire and " hottered and leuch," in a semi -suppressed manner. " It is un- seemly, James. What is there to amuse you ? " The minister, it should be explained, had a repu- tation for giving his people what is well undei-stood when described as " cauld kail het again." " Eh, naething particular," said Jamie, still laugh- ing. " I was only thinkin' o' something that happened when the kirk was skailin' a maument syne." " What was it ? Tell me about it." 126 ;( :.,'^ ■n THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE "Weel, minister, dinna be angiy wi* me," said Jamie, "an' I'll tell ye. Whether ye ken it or no, sir, ye're blamed for preaehin" an auld sermon noo an' than, an' I think I rather got the better o' some o' them the day — some o' the kirk-fouk, I mean." " How so, James ? " " 'Deed, simply eneuch, an' I'll tell ye hoo. Just as soon as the hinmost psalm was finished, ye see, I gaed aff as usual an' opened first the West door, and syne ran round and opened the East door, and as I was comin' back round the kirk again, wha should I meet but Newmains, an' twa or three ither o' the farmers, an' by the way they were lauchin' an' nudgin' ane anither wi' their elbucks, I kcnt fine what they were ettlin' to say, so I tak's the first word wi' them, an' says I, ' Weel, lads,' says I, * ye canna say that yon was an auld ane ye got the day, for it's no abune sax weeks since ye got it afore.' An' I think I got the better o' them, sir. An' that's hoo I canna help lauchin'." The beadle of a northern city kirk was a pavior to trade, and the minister with whom he was regularly "yokit" eveiy Sabbath coming up one day to where John was busily engaged laying causey, was struck with a fine simile, as he thought, and said, "John, you and I toil daily with the same object in view, namely, to mend the ways of our fellow-men. But, I am afraid, you make much better progress than I do." 127 ttr' •'!» !.•: i m\ lOi I i\ . THISTLEDOWN " Ay," replied the pavior-beadle, diyly, " but maybe if ye was as niuckle on your knees at your walk as I am, sir, you would come better speed." A capital rejoinder. One of the be{ulle''s weaknesses is the " dram,*^ as has been already hinted here, and as this must be tiiken on the sly, his defence must be strong, even though imscrupulous. Alexander M'Laughlan, a Blairgowrie beadle, had contracted a habit of tippling, and entering the Session-house one morning with the evidence of guilt in his breath, the minister deemed the occasion a fitting one on which to ad- minister a reproof, and said— "Saunders, I nmch fear that the bottle has become " " Aye, sir," interrupted the officer, " I was just about to remark that there was surely a smell o' drink amang's ! " In another case of the same kind, the defence was less equivocal. " You have been drinking again, John," said the minister. " Why, John, you should really become a teetotaler." " Do you never tak' a drap yersel', sir ? " inquired John. "I do ; but, John, you must consider the differ- ence between your circumstances and mine." " Very true, sir," said John ; " but do ye ken hoc the streets o' Jerusalem were keepit clean ? " ' No, I am not sure that I do, John." 128 (( THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE « Weel, then, I'll tell ye. It was just by ilka bodie ket'pin' their ain door-stane soopit." The argument, doubtless, was not fuiiher con- tinued on that occasion. The minister of one of the Dundee parish churches had a beadle called Donald, who was a woithy and useful man. No fault could b<' found against him except his being too fond of a dram. At a meeting of the Session one night Donald was so unsteady in his gait that, to prevent an accident, one of the elders had to go to his assistance in lighting the gas, which could only be reached by a chair, or steps. The habit had become so marked of late that it was decided to have Donald "u})." On his appearing, the minister, in his most ini})ressive nmnner, said, " Donald, the Session has asked me to remonstrate with you on your intemperate habits, which seem to have become worse recently."'' Donald, with as great a look of offended dignity as in the circumstances he could assume, replied, " I never takes more than what's good for me, shir ; did you ever see me the — (hie) — worse of drink ? " The Session was not a little amused ; but the minister, still keeping his gravity, said, " Well, Donald, we have pretty plain evidence to-night. And not very long ago I saw you clinging to a railing in the Nethergatc, and, so that you nn'ght not know I saw you, I crossed to the other side of the street." Drawing himself up to his full height, the bearlle 129 hv 1, t T 5i w 1 j' THISTLEDOWN replied, " Well, you did wrong, shir — very far wrong; it was your duty, shir, to have stopped and admonished ine." The minister was pleased enough to see Donald's back, as by this time it was very apparent the sympathies of the Session were with the accused. We rarely find the beadle at loggerheads with the minister, however. He rather inclines to regard the minister's and his own interests as identical, and is disposed to be friendly and confidential. So confidential, indeed, that it is recorded of one that, when the minister was in a state of exasperation about something or other, John looked sympathisingly towards him and said, " Gin ye think that an aith wad relieve ye, sir, dinna mind me ! " " John,'* said a parish minister in Perthshire to his beadle not very long ago, "that Disestablishment cry is becoming serious. Dr. Hutton and his crew are apparently not to rest until they have us all put out of church and manse together, \^^ly, I see there's to be a set of agitators from Glasgow and elsewhere to be holding a meeting in our very own parish this week." " Dinna ye bother yei-sel', minister," was the beadle's reply, " dinna ye bother yersel'. If the kirk continues to do her duty, the very gates o' hell will no prevail against her. We have Scripture for that. As an instance, sir. Ye mind o' yon five dissenters wha tried to put me oot o' the grave-diggin' twa years syne, Fve happit four o' them noo ! " 130 , (,' :*;^;i'5;?'' >;• ■ V-' i' H- f * ,''r,^. ..^^?;-. ■;■ ■'.i-. V".^«, 4' '^.>^w-i--w..y.«mwa«-)H»r<»|Mi i !■>»»■.'< i'*. -wvf ^i-t»WKi*W««*«<-'*'ft»'r-'i'"'*'^<"'"" irvKvaning, of'rtnu-se, that Mm '-^jm cimaxly the, vH,r-sr of Jiqvwrl. .' rs-ifei't luwutumV *«»iM sTflihiT, with s Wearj*. wink, " Vni geyau \ . >. ■ Jj 1 , • < . jiH, F*.- ■t/^:-': t, ■| ,. )a !: 1 ' i > H. // \ I' I I 5, I THlSTLiJjOVVN i'cpH»toi)ir. si Uf •VHI •y i'):i- wroii^-; i; was your dniv, Wir, to have stopped and m<. ionisiM-d n.c." T>.. nvinister yvm ph-ic^cd VJ'VV i wi!h II le nri ]>l>'ii>'i)t iSjf syiupji ct []ui Scs ision ui-re W i* !n...;;- »,,.,» 11,., 5,<.;d]e nt I(;^" rr,1| u K." J.- i! •:!. ,s ih rH(hi!' J. r 1 > /'".■•'*'■' AixniLsoiiii^l:!);; .: . tOkVat-fh liliO ;uid • t^^" ono tb/ '^.•^.•^ If! ,), wui r t.< •/oh '''!• ;•• think Hi.'it ; rNVa'^pi.-rafion >y'.np.ithi.singlv nn uith eve yo, sii , liVMIlH m irid IMG \n\i Aw { P"- idi Kiiiiister in I'frthdiire to I y Icjt.jT a HL'O. ^1. Ill I^MstthJishuh i:^ n' 'tii;( Hrri'ins, n--, Miiit I 'lit f '•(■, il til en and his crt lev ha\t; us al! jj)it lo bi... JvfK • ;if.:'M tiijrth':)' liV I .see .% -if, (ij <».» l»o Ijoii •.'.>> df \t ly £j.'it have ,St;rM)tiii lift" J'^- ili 'i'^ pvi'saii duty, he ii}.r"u»sh h( AV \n\ V lor ''vi. As an Itidancf.", sir, Hid o yon hw diti-si" ten, ubu ii:bd hi' iZTiW to dji put tne oat i!'/."<:;»v »K>0 / " :i^VA hvLxyv-w-^syu^rveAcnuii ion '/'i" \m f [ • I 1 H < ' • W?*2S!!^W^ *^^^^^ cSl7ffi'"»*« ^ h« beadle Don t menUpn't," replied J^n StuTV/ "** '^"e of IfqroS \ r' (r,1.! V: , 1 '?; ■f •■•-■ -r-^T r:i> mil th£ will « I I)' .*if > I \i. \m. '■^msii- LI t'.','i},-4f I f ((Sy-- THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE "Drunk again, John," said a north couiitiy minister one day to his beadle, meaning, of course, that John was clearly the worse of li(]Uoi-. "Don't mention't," replied John, with a bleai-y wink, " Vm geyan weel on myseP, sir/' "That's a damp, cold morning,"'"' said the minister, as he entered the Session-house, chaffing both hands and feet. " Deevilish, sir, deevilish ! " replied John, catching the sense perhaps, although the sound reached him imperfectly. And, by the by, the word sound just reminds me of a very good beadle anecdote, and one which illustrates how expressive a monosyllable may some- times be made. A certain countiy congregation had been hearing candidates, with a view to filling the pulpit. The third on the short leet, a young spark of a fellow, had preached, jvs it w ere, yesterday, and desiring to ascei'tain, not only what impression he had himself made, but also the esteem in which the members of the kirk held those who liad pi-eached before him, he sauntered around, looking for some suitable pei-son to sound on the matter. In com'se of time he espied the beadle busily exercised in opening a grave, and, going towaixls the digger, he talked with him (juictly for a time on mattere likely to interest the ruial inhabitant, and gradually arrived at the subject which was uppermost in his own mind. "And what are the people saying about the 131 \\v-4 ^A M !1.U i 1 / I ) ii'^ I f ii^y THISTLEDOWN candidate' who preached first ? "" at length asked the budding divine. "Soond ! ■" replied Jolni, throwing up a spadeful. " And of the second one P " (pieried the preacher. Xo soond ! '' was the ready and emphatic answer. And do you know what opinion they entertain ofnivsilf?" " yV soond ! " snorted the bejidle, and drove the spade into the loanj with a thud that was even more elo(juent than tiie words of his mouth. Perha|)s it was to this self-same functionaiy that a gentleman one day remarked — " Ye hae been sao lang aboot the minister's hand, John, th.it I dare say ye could preach a sermon yerscl' noo," "Oh, na, sir," was the modest reply; "I couldna preach a seiiiion." Tiien, after a brief pause, he remarked, "But maybe I could draw an inference, though;' " Well, John," said the gentleman, humouring the (juiet vanity of the beadle, " what inference could you draw from this text — ' A wild tiss snuffeth up the wind at her pleasure' (Jer. ii. 24)?" " Weel," replied John, " the or-ly t^ atural-like in- ference that I could draw frae ' ol this, th; * she w/ul snuff* a l^mg time before si a ad fatten oi, ." In a country parish in the Ijolhians tlie dwelling- house of the beadle was in close pro.vimity to the manse, and both were on the sunnnit of a hill overlooking the neighbouring village. The minister 132 I i '1 ii 1%tsl^ltl<-^,:, * ^ THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE wjis greatly estceinccl for his piety, and it was 8aiKly''s ambition to Ix^ regarded as tlie one other unco fftule man in the parish. They frecjiiently foregathered and exchanged experiences and \ie\vs, and ahvays on the basis of their spiritual superiority to all their neighbours. During a certain Satinxlay night, a great storm of wind and snow had caused such drifts to accunndate about the doors of the vilUigei's that when Siniday dawned all woie prisonei's within their dwellings except the minister and the beadle. Mr. Blank emerged from the manse, and stood on the hill-top surveying the scene. In a little while he was joined by Sandy ; and whether the minister could interpret the situation or not, the beadle had fully mastered its significance. "Gude moi-nin"', Maister Blank," said Sandy; "ye mind what the Word says, * He causeth His rain to fall upon the just and the unjust.^" Then slowly sweeping his outstretched arm over the imprisoned village, he added, with a peculiar emphasis, " But faith, sir, the gnaw finds the sinners oot.''^ Several capital examples of our subjecfs power of withering sarcasm have been already (j noted, but the following would be difficult to rival : — "Gin ye mention our local magistrates in yer prayers, sir," said the beadle of a small buigh tov n to a clergyman who had come from a distance to officiate for a day — " gin ye mention our local magistrates in yer prayers, dinna ask that they may be a terror to evil-doers, because the fack o"' 133 ll I. ' ..'!■ i i. « .1 4 i I '^A\ ■i ii V ' THISTLEDOWN the maitter is, sir, the piiir, auld, waefu' bodies could be nae terror to onybody."" To a notorious inlidc;!, who gloried in his pro- fanity, and was once denouncing the absurdity of the doctrine of original sin, a Falkirk beadle remarked, *' It seems to me, Mr. H., that you needna fash yei-ser aboot original sin, for to my certain knowledge you\'e quite as muckle ackual sin as will do for you." An infidel citizen of an Ayrshire burgh built a handsome mausoleum for himself and family in the local cemetery. He spared no expense, and was rather proud of his family burial-place. Indeed, he closely superintended the operations of the workmen, and noted their progress. As he was going to the place one day, he met the beadle of the Secession kirk, and ask^d him if he had seen the new vault. " Ou ay," was all the answer he got. Nothing daunted, he proceeded to expatiate on the theme, and concluded by saying, " Yoirs a gey strong place. It'll tak"" us a"* our time to rise out o' yonder at the last day." *' My man," said the beadle, " dinna gie yersel' ony trouble about r'tsin^ for they'll maybe just ding the bottom out an' let ye gang doun instead." They are generally found having a single eye to business, and one is reported to have rejoiced to hear that an epidemic had broken out in the parish ; "for," said he, " I hacna buried a livin' sowl for the last six weeks, binna a scart o' a bairn." 134 THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE John Prentice of Camwath put his plaint in a more pleasant form. " Hech vow ! " he would say^ when told of the death of any pei*son. " ^.y, man, an' is So-and-So dead ? Weel, I wad rather it had been anither twa ! "" A person once asked John Prentice if he considered himself at liberty to pray for his daily bread. " Dear sake, sir,"" he answered, " the Lord's Prayer tells us that, ye ken."" "Ay, but," said the querist, "do you think you can do that consistently with the command which enjoins us to wish no evil to our neighbour ? " " My conscience ! " cried John, in astonishment, *' the folk maun be buried ! " " Rin awa"* hame, bairns," a well-known Perthshire beadle was in the habit of saying to such of the children as curiosity or playfulness had brought to the churchyard. " Awa' wi' ye ! an' dinna come here again on yer ain feet." Just after an interment one day in the same churchyard, and as the mourni is were returning towards the gate, one of the party gave a cough, which caused the beadle to prick his ears, and, looking towards a friend who stood by, " Wha ga'e yon howe hoast (hollow cough) ? " said he. " He'll be my way gin March ! " "Pm gettin' auld an' frail noo, Jamie," said a timorous and " pernickity " old lady one day to this same functionary ; " there's a saxpence to ye to buy snuff. An' if I sud be ta'en awa' afore I see ye 135 n ♦ m^ hu », t ■p" . % THISTLEDOWN again, Jamie, ye'll mind an' lay me in oor wastmost lair." " A' richt," said Jamie, " but there may be ithers i' the family that wad like the wastmost lair as weel as you, so, to save disappointment, ye'd better hurry up an' tak' possession." Tlie late Rov. Mr. Barty, of Ruthven, was a man brimful of humour, and many good stories are told of him. A vacancy having occurred in the office of gravediggcr, one, Peter Hardie, made application for the appointment. The parish is small, con- sisting of five farms. The rate per head having been duly fixed, the minister and Peter had just about closed the bargain, when Peter, with an eye to self-interest, said, " But am I to get steady wark ? " " Keep's a ! Peter," answered Mr. Barty, "wi' steady wark ye wad bury a' the parish in a fortnicht ! " But the beadle sometimes meets with folks as inhumanly practical as himself. " What's to pey, John ? " asked a scrubby farmer of the sexton of Kilwinning, as the finishing touches were being given to the sod on the grave of the farmer's wife. " Five shillin's," said John. " Five shillin's for that sma' job .'' It's oot o' a' reason. Ye're weel pey'd wi' hauf-a-croon." " She's doon seven feet," said John ; " an' Fve tell't ye my chairge." "I dinna want to quarrel wi' ye here the day, 136 ft p ^ THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE John,'' said the farnior, gmffly ; " so there's four shillin's, but I winna gi e ye a fardiii' niair ! " "See here!" said John, holding the money on the palm of his left hand just as he had received it, whilst he seized the handle of the spade in a business- like way with the other, "doon wi' the ither shillin', or up she comes ! " Another was remonstrated with for making an overcharge. "Weel, you see," said the beadle, making a motion with his thumb to the grave, "him and me had a bit troke about a watch a dizzin o' years syne, and he never paid me the difference o't. Noo, says I to mysel', this is my last chance. I'll better tak' it." " Ay, man, it's ^ bounie turff," one is reported to have said. " It's a peety to see it putten doon on the tap o' sic a skemp ! " Of another deceased person another beadle said, " He was sic a fine chield I howkit his grave wi' my new spade." Not long ago a funeral party in the North on arriving at the kirkyard and placing the coffin over the grave, discovered that the latter was not long enough to admit of the interment. " Man, John," said the chief mourner to the beadle, "ye've made the grave ower short." " It canna be," retorted John very gruffly, " I measiH'ed the coffin wi' my ain hand, and was very particular about it." " Ye made a niistak' in the measuring, then, 137 f -. *i rv.. ^ •i t if ^ ">. > m i / i ! I i THISTLEDOWN John,'''* said the party, " or yeVe gane wrang wi' the howkin\'' " J/(p wrang!'" snorted the beadle, livid with rage; " see that ye haena brocht the wrang corp.'" A physician in Dumfries, who was also a member of the Kirk-Session, meeting the beadle " the waur o' a dram,"' threatened to expose him. "Man, doctor,'" said the gravedigger, with a twinkle in his eye, " I hae happit viony a faut o"" yours, an' I think ye micht thole ane o' mine.'" The translation of the Rev. Donald Macleod from Linlithgow to Glasgow was deeply resented by the beadle, who also held the office of sexton. When Mr. Macleod first went to Linlithgow, the beadle took him into the graveyai^d, and, showing him the resting-places of his predecessors, said, "There''s whaur Dr. Bell lies ; and there's whaur Dr. Dobie lies ; and there''s whaur you'll lie if you're spared." As Mr. Macleod was taking his departure, the beadle said, "Weel, sir, ye're the first minister that was ever lifted out o' Linlithgow except to the grave." In the memoir of the late Dr. William Lindsay Alexander there are some choice beadle anecdotes ; and the following, which is identified with his first pulpit appearance in the congregation which had known him " man and boy," the rev. doctor himself told in a church meeting not very long before his death. " As well as I remember," he said, *' I dis- charged the duty to the best of my ability. But, on coming down to the vestry, one of the worthy 138 .-.-^^ l..JH^ w'*-, -A -0^t*-\-%f ■if,- 1 : '? ">^- \ •?*!-:'| t. I '■ -' rt f \ THISTLEDOWN Jolin," sfliri fh<; PHrt}', '"or yt'"ve gtuifc wrang wi"' tbf ho 'v kin"/' " xV^ vvrnn;^!" r^iun-tt.d tlv ''A-iuWr. livid with rn^e; "sto tbut v».' Jjjiena brochi ihc wmng coip/'' A phv "'^ ill Dumfries, who WiS also a nicmher v>f Lilt Kiifs-ScsMoii, mocMng the Ix-adlo *' the waur o"* a 'i'jiit. thr»jatf'n.'."' {){ tilt ii'r" U.f !'.li- l>i, Wiiliaiii I^iiids-Ti Ai'.:::: iiiii. ; ':.i ».•.%. .-..ne vl'jic; bead h; anecdotes ; and ii-' •; :i>wii;^^ •'lit-'Vi is ^IvKlitlcd v\iv.h }li^ ti;>i1 poljiit >lj■{^•'^■.• iXKH t,.' ttic ctU!i^^rf{..jM':i"'t which h.io known liim M-m .m-- ? hiv,', ' tho rf" . (Usctjjr himself t(;ld jji a cbi;''ch fncrt.i.f^ uot. very ion^' b»d'ore hu ilculh. "As well fu^ I "'.•v.MinhiT," he s-.dtl, 'T dis- ch;irirt'd (he dutv to tlj»' !>..-st of /nv abihtv. Hut. o-> '.'oin'Hg duvn to tijo vestry, out* of the worthy 1<: i8 I. V ?P!Pf!W"''rTr*^^ **Man, doctor," said the mvedigger, with a twinkle, in his ( " I hae happii motufm faut a jroan, an* I think ye micht thole o* mintr— Page 198. eye, an» >:!:i*.^-;-..-. sti>-L. hv <• i» X ,A w- 'i,w I 'I ( ! SI- 1 ; vj m^m •f^m K ■'•% I ' *1 I, n f, . i *j-wjt ^*.-^_. THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE deacons came to me and said some very disparaging things about my sermon, saying plainly that this sort of thing would never do ! Among other things he said it was too flowery. Saunders, the church- officer, who was in the vestry and wfis standing with his hand on the door, turned round and said, 'Flooei-sl an' what for no? What ails ye at flooei's?' After the deacon went out I went up to Saundere and thanked him for taking my part. 'Weel, Maister Weelum, I jist didna like to see him ower ill to ye ; but, atween ooreers, he wasna far wrang, ye ken. Yon '11 no dae ! " The Doctor one day told " Jimms," who had been gardener and minister's man at Pinkieburn when he (the minister) was a boy, that he had planned a new approach to the house, and intended to set about and have it made at once. "Na, na. Doctor, that'll no dae at a'," Jimms sturdily exclaimed, when explanations of the plan had been laid before him. " Well, but I have resolved to have it done," Dr. Alexander said, and quietly reminded Jimms that he was there to cany out ordere. "Nae doot. Doctor, in a certain sense that's true," was the prompt reply. "Still I'm here to prevent ye frae spoilin' the property." When, however, the new walk was an accomplished fact, and approved of by the visitor's, Jimmg took his full share of the credit. ** Ou, ay," he would say, " nane o' yer landscape K 139 'MM II M *M \'^' ¥ 1/ J THISTLEDOWN ganlcners here. Me an* the Doctor, we managed it a'/' In coui*se of time this "Jimms** went where all good be.*ulk'3 go, and his mantle fell on his successor, John Sloan. This worthy and the Doctor got on capitally together. "There were never words atween me an* the Doctor," said Sloan. " I did my wark, and said straicht what cam* into my head, an* the Doctor hked it." Sloan seldom volunteered advice, but when he did, it was always with good effect. On one occasion he found himself in the Deacons* vestry putting coals on the fire, when the subject under discussion was whether a service, at which a special collection was to be asked, should be held on Sunday afternoon or evening. Dr. Alexander had just said that he would prefer the afternoon, when Sloan paused for a moment, coal-scuttle in hand, and facing round, said, "The Doctor's richt. In the afternoon we'll ha'e oor ain fouk ; at nicht there'll be a wheen Pres- byterians — I reckon them at thruppence a dizzen ! " He did not wait to see the effect of his shot, but it ended the discussion. *' I don't think I should put on my gown to-day, John," said a country minister to his beadle, *' the weather is so very hot. I will preach better without it." " Put on the goun, sir," said John, " it mak*s ye mair impressive like, an* ye need it a'." 140 .\ THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE In a congregation in the North the beadle had been systematically pilfering just as much of the church-door collection money as would keep himself in snuff. The acting elder habitually counted the money in the presence of the minister, put it in the box, turned the key in the lock, and left it there. By and by it was discovered that small sums were being regularly abstracted. Suspicion fell on the beadle. So one Sabbath after the minister had seen the elder count over the day's drawings, and place it in the box in the usual way, he returned to the Session-house after the Sabbath School was dismissed, and, counting over the money again, noticed that the usual small portion had disappeared. He ac- cordingly summoned the beadle. " David," said the minister, "there is something wrong here. Some one has been abstracting the church money from the box ; and you know that no one has access to it but you and I." The minister thought he had the beadle thor- oughly cornered, and that he would confess his guilt. But David cleared his conscience, and dumfoundered the minister by this strange proposal : " Weel, minister,'* said he, " if there is a deficiency, it's for you and me to mak' it up 'atween us, and say naething about it ! " A highly respectable minister, who had no preach- ing gifts, was one day going to officiate for a country brother who was from home. The manse to which he was going was some miles from the railway station. w l-xi t , t / i 1 ir THISTLEDOWN and thu miinstei's man, John, wjis in waiting with the C(jnv('ynuce for the stranger when the train arrived in the winter afternoon. John, after receiv- ing liini kindly, told hinj that he h;vd some messages to do in the town close hy the station, which would take liiin al)out half an hour, and that if ho would go along to the liotol the landlord woiild give liini a comfortable seat at the fireside till he was ready. The minister readily agreed, but when, instead of half an hour, considerably more than an hour elapsed before John appeai'ed, he upbraided him when he came for his unnecessary delay, and threatened to report him to his master. At length John could stand it no longer, and said, " Weel, sir, if ye maun hae the truth, I was tell't by the maister to put aff at the toun till it wjis dark, so that the folk in the parish micht na see wha Wfis to preach the morn." When the Rev. Mr. Mitchell had been translated from a country parish to a church in Glasgow, a friend of his, visiting the old parish, asked the beadle how he liked the new minister. *' Oh," said the beadle, " he's a very good man, but I would rather hae Mr. Mitchell." " Indeed," said the visitor ; " I suppose the former was a better preacher ? " " No ; we\e a good enough preacher now." " Wiis it the prayer of Mr. Mitchell, or his reading, or what was it you preferred him for?" *' Weel, sir," said the beadle, " if you maun ken the reason, Mr. MitchelPs auld claes fitted me best." 142 THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE ri It is a truism that nmch dcpriuis upon the way in which a thing is done. A young spurk of a fV-llow had been made a minister, neither very xcisehj nor very 7C'eU, as we may in fairness HU[){)ose, for, being ap[)<)inted to a country charge where the manse was situated at a eonsidcrahh! distance from tlie church, he very soon shocked the finer sensibiliHes of the hcgcs by (h'iving tandem to and from tlie Sunday service — that is, having two horses yoked to his machine, the one running in front of the other. The Hke had never been seen nor heard of before. He would rc(juire to be spoken to about it at once. Dri\ing of itself was tolerable, but tnndcm was out of the (juestion. Accordingly, the eldei-s laid their heads together, and one of them tackled the reverend gentlen)an on the (juestion at the close of the service. "Why, you drive to church yourself," said the minister to the elder. "Ay, but in a very different manner frae that heathenish way that you do it," retorted the elder — " that tandem way." "I see nothing more scandalous in driving horses tandem than running them abreast," coolly argued the minister ; " but if you can convince me th it there is, I will cease from doing it." " I just dinna like it," said the elder, failing to discover a better argument at the moment. " That's just it," sneered the minister. " Vou don't like it. It's a sheer case of conventionality and narrow-minded prejudice." 14S V \hn r wm ii ." n • 4' /■ THISTLEDOWN " Maybe it is. But it disna look weel," iniistcd the elder. " Look ! Look is nothing,"" returned the n inister, " but a mere matter of taste." " The elder's richt," broke in the beadle, who had been standing aside listening to all the argument. "Look has a hantle to do wi't. An' if ye'll aloo me, sir, TU convince ye o' that by a very simple illustration. See ye here noo, sir. When ye pro- nounced the benediction twa or three minutes since, it lookit grand an' consistent-like when ye did it Tliis way! 144 THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE But what gin ye had dune it /v ::i Thai waTjr' The minister stood convinced, and never proposed tf.nat >n again as long as he hved. Of a Durisdeer beadle it is told that having re- ceived from the minister — a comparative new-comer — the gift of a half-worn coat, he sidled to the door, and turning round gave him a lesson in the traditions of his office by explaining, " Mr. Smith used to gi'e me the waistcoat too.*" The greatly esteemed Principal Caird was minister of Errol before he was appointed Professor of Divinity 145 ' 4'' ' Ih ; i i < \ i \' ::\ H \ ,t J- . S m:--\ THISTLEDOWN t- > in Glasgow. While there the Doctor discovered the acoustic properties of the church to be by no means of the best, and his congregation being scanty, he suggested to the beadle that an improvement might be effected by boarding up one of the side aisles. " That may do very weel for you," replied the shrewd old Scotchman, " but what will we do for room if we should get a popular preacher to follow you .^ " Robert Bums tells us that t %. >j "The f?ar o' hell's a hangman's whip To haud the wretch in order." and the asseveration of the bard received favourable commentaiy at the instance of a sage country bead^ ' not very long ago. The minister had for sonic time previously been favouring the free and easy theology which excludes belief in eternal punishment. He had, indeed, told his )>vople from the pulpit that such an arrangement was not, ir his opinion, con- sistent with the character and beng of the Creator of the univei"se. From this point there was a marked falling off in the attendance at church on the Sabbath, and the preacher was, naturally, con- cerned. "John," he said to the beadle one day between the preachings, " the people are not turning out to public woi-ship nearly so well as they used to do." " I dinna blame them for't," was John's dry reply. " Y'ou what, John .'* " " I dinna blame them foi't, Vm sayin\" 14G h 'T'^m THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE " You do not blame the people for absenting themselves from di\ ine service ! Do you mean to insinuate, John, that my preaching is less able, less adequate to their needs, and ; " " Yer preachin' may be a' ye wad claim for it, sir, an' ril no argue wi' ye aboot it : but I say this, an"" ni stick tiirt, a kirk withoot a hell's just no worth a d docken." Twas coarse, but strong, apd true. In a Forfarshire parish, a number of years ago, the old l^eadle was an outstanding character even among his kind. The minister — a recent appoint- ment — entered the churchyard one day accompanied by a gentleman friend — also a recent importation into the district — and approaching the beadle the following colloquy ensued : — Minister — " This is Mr. So and So, John, he wishes to purchase a lair." Bcadh: — " Imphm ! Ou, ay. Just that. Is it for hiniser ? " Gentleman — " No. It's for my brother. He died last night." Beadle — " Ou, ay. Wcel it's a' the same to me, of coui'se, ye ken ; but d'ye ken hoo he wad like to lie.?"' Minister — " What do you mean, John ? " Beadle — "Weel, ye see, there's some likes to lie wi' their feet to the east, some wi' their feet to the wast. There, just for instance, ahent ye, lies the auld minister an' his wife ; him wi' his feet to the 147 l.v- H * ; ^tm I (it i;i 'i L r I H I i ■ I .' ■I THISTLEDOWN "^Vhustle kirks"" will very soon be the rule rather than the exception, and the precentor will, in the course of a few years, have become an almost unknown (juantity. Some of us who have already cut our wisdom teeth may live to see him a totally defunct species. And yet, if we do, we will not behold the spectacle without acute twinges of regret, for many plesising memories of the pleasantcst period of our lives cluster around the familiar form of the village-kirk precentor as he appeared in the desk with clean-shaven chin, black "stock," stiffly-starched, high-rinnned linen collar, and ample shirt-front as white as the drifted snaw ; and by the mildest effort of the imagination we can even now hear the familiar snap of his snuff-box lid, see him prime the one nostril, then the other, and hear the e(i[ually familiar dirl of the " pitch-fork " on the book-board, and the reading of the line on the key-note of " Balermo," or "Devizes," "ColeshilV' « St. Asaphs," or the "wild warbling measures of ' Dundee.'" Of coui-se it is just as the study of music progresses in Scotland, and the taste for the highly-refining art becomes general, that organs increase and precentoi's decay. It is to the olden vimcs, however, when he who had a "fairish gude lug" and a thoroughly sound pair of lungs was, irrespective of nuisical education, elected to " fill the desk," that the humours of preconting almost exclusively belong. And, ti'uly, of that time many a sufficiently funny and ludicrous story may be told. 150 •X Mx •«wMn HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS ?, W,|PK The late and lamented David Kennedy, the eminent Scottish vocalist, began his career, as most people are aware, as a precentor in his native city of Perth, where his father before him held a similar office for many years in one of the l.irger Presby- terian kirks. Of the time of the elder Kennedy*'s precentorship, "Dauvit" remembered a well-known old character in Perth, an inveterate snufl'cr, who sang with all his might, and was in the habit of stopping short in the middle of a verse, blow ing his nose in his red pocket-napkin, and, having carefully marked the place, would recommence where he left off, oblivious to the fact that the precentor and the rest of the congregation were two lines in advance of him. That man's singing resembled the dancing of a Perthshire ploughman I have heard of. This latter individual, who hobbled on the floor like a "hen on a het girdle," and never modulated the action of his limbs to fast or slow nmsic, said he "maybe wasna a very elegant dancer, but he was awfu' constant." Mr. Kennedy, also, when introducing one of his songs, used to tell a good story of the times when the minister did not choose his Psfilnis as at present, but the precentor simply went through the Psalm- book, taking so many verses each time. The singer's father and some others, when lads, managed to take advantage of this custom to play a good practical joke on an old precentor. Gaining access to the vestry on the Saturday night they took his Psalm- 1 f >\ i '. ) ( i f ! *l THISTLEDOWN ;/ !' IK :s book and, turning to the part which was to be used on the morrow, neatly pasted in the first page of the well-known ballad " Chevy Chase," the type in which the two books were printed being nearly similar. On the day following, the precentor, as was the general custom in those days, read each line before singing it, atid so managed to get to the end of the third line without noticing anything out of place : — " God prosper long our noble king, Our lives and safeties all ; A woeful hunting once there did " — Having reached the fourth line he read — " In Chevy Chase befall." Muttering, " Hoots ! I maun be tuniing blind,^ he adjusted his spectacles, and held the book close to his nose. Finding the exact words there, he gazed round him for a second as if he had doubts of his own sanity, and said, "Weel, freends, I am clean bambaized. IVe sung the Psalms o"" Dauvit for thretty year, but never saw 'Chevy Chase' mentioned in them before," The feeling against repeating tunes approached to something like horror in certain parts of the country, even in the second and third decades of the present centuiy, and I have heard my father tell how, when he was a young man, he accompanied a friend to the kirk in Logiealmond. The friend's father was an elder in the kirk in question, and he, the 152 HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS young man, was to occupy the precentor"'s desk for the day. In the course of the service he introduced a repeating tune, and the scene in the kirkyard at the " skailin' o' the kirk " made the occasion memor- able. The young man's father had hurried out immediately after the benediction was pronouncetl, and placing himself at the cheek of the kirk door, as soon as the budding precentor appeared he seized him by the neck, threw him to the ground, and, belabouring him with hands and feet, he exclaimed — " You abominable scoundrel ! if you dare again to profane the word of God in my hearing, FU slay you with my own hands in the presence of the whole congregation ! " A precentor of age and experience was once as effectively corrected for the same practice. Think- ing to steal a march on the minister, whose mind on the subject was well known, he started a repeating tune one day. As soon as his drift was evident the minister"'s hand was over the pulpit and his fingere among the " lettergae's "^ hair, and, " Stop, Dauvit ! stop!"" he shouted, "when the Lord repeats we'll repeat ; but no till then." Of course, then, even as now, repeating tunes had to be chosen with neat discrimination, as much of our sacred verse does not yield itself gracefully to such treatment. Repeats generally occur in the last line of a stanza, and the praise of a congregation has not infrequently been rendered ludicrous from the want of good taste and commonsense in the 153 'I { n V THISTLEDOWN ' selection of tunes suited to the words, as well as to the sentiment of a psahn or hymn. To the well- known Ilundreth Psalm a repeating tune has some- times been applied, which, from a peculiarity in its arrangement, luis rendered the line — " And for His sheep He doth us take " — thus, " And for His sheep hed — And for His sheep he'd — And for His sheep he''d — oth us take."" From the same indiscretion multitudes of people have been made to exclaim — " Oh ! send down S(d—0\\ ! send down Sal— Oh ! send down sal — va — tion to us," and solicit the privilege to '■^ Bozo — xvow — woio before the throne." But surely the most ludicrous example of the kind ever produced was when the female voices in a choir had to repeat by themselves — " Oh ! for a man — Oh ! for a man — Oh ! for a man — sion in the skies." Occasions have also been made memorable by pre- centors from ignorance or accident launching into a tune in a different measure from the psalm. In this way a " lettergae " in a rural parish in the North, far from perfect in his profession, astonished the congre- gation one Sabbath many years ago. In the psalm which was intimated, the second line to be sung ended with the word "Jacob," said psalm being a common metre. The precentor, who sang " by the lug " and used no tune-book, went off on a peculiar metre tune, and not discovering the error until he had reached the word " Jacob," and then finding he was short of verbal material, he improvised for the occasion, and sang it " J — a — jay — fal — de — riddle 154 \tit HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS '—cob,'" and so on, as necessity deniandwl, until the verses were finished. On coming out of the chuich some of his neighbours approached him and said — "Cd, yon was a new ane ye ga'e us the day, Geordie.^ "Ay," replied Geordie; " yon's ' Kinnoull Hill,'" and away he went, avoiding further question as much as he could. Geordie's impromptu was not disingenuous by any means, and his after-fencing was admirable ; but he would have shown better discretion had he, when he discovered the incompatibility of the metres, actwl after the manner of a well-known precentor of the same shire, lately deceased. This latter functionaiy was guided also more by the " lug "" than the music- book, and in raising the psalm one day, even although he had hummed the tune to himself while the minister was reading the verses, his memory played him false at the critical moment of entering into action, and off' he went on a tune the measure of which did not suit the psalm. The instant he dis- covered his en'or — which was at the end of the firet line — he stopped, looked round the congregation — not a blush — and in a firm voice said, " I am wrong." Then he mused for a moment, caught up the tune he meant to sing, and away he went with it, and, as I have heard him tell, never sang with better "birr" in all his life. As he left the church his arm was touched by the factor's lady, a woman of rare intelli- gence and vivacity of manner, who exclaimed, " Now, L 155 f A iw»^ It •^ • ., IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 1.8 ^ m Hiotographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 873-4S03 A l^.r (/a k THISTLEDOWN f) '\ Joseph, I see that a well-corrccted inistuke looks firet-rate." So it docs; and is often the making of a man. This Joseph was acktiowledged to be the lx;st " reader of the line "" — that is, of reading each line on the keynote before singing it — within a radius of twenty nules. He only once " put his foot in it," so far as I have heard. It wiis in connection with the word "snow,"" to which he at first applied the wrong vowel soimd, ajid in attempting to correct himself made it altogether " Snee-snaw-snow." In connection with the practice of reading the line, I have heard several good stories. One of them is that a young man wlio looked even younger than he was, had been granted "a day in the desk'"" by the regular precentor of a country congregation. The fii'st psalm given out was the fifth part of 119th, beginning "Teach me, O I^ord, the perfect way;" and this line he declaimed with quite exceptional and inspiring elixjuence. But on returning to sing it he failed to catch on the tune somehow. He read the line again ; but, no, it would not go. Once more he tackled the subject by the "heft end,"" and exclaimed, "Teach me, O Lord, the perfect way." Still being unable to raise the tune, an old farmer in the church blurted out, "IJotl, laddie. Fin thinking He hfis nniekle need;" and rising to his feet, in response to a nod from the minister, he went off with the line and the tune both, much to the relief of the unHed^-.d precentor. The next time that young mm essayed to lead the praise in the same > T » 'f HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS '»g edifice, the service curiously enough opened with the 48th Paraphrase, the fii-st line of which runs, "Let Christian faith and hope dispel ;"" and it was with him even as the words re(j nested, for he disported himself to the complete satisfaction of all present. The Rev. Sir Homy Moncrieff, Bart., was for some yeai*s minister of the parish of Blackford, prior to his translation to St. Cuthlx'i-fs in Edinburgh. During his incumbency at Blackford (alxnit 1774), he had, as Doctor Rodgers tells, one Sabbath opened divine service by giving out a portion of the 71st Psalm, at the seventh verse. The conductor of the psalmody followed the practice then in vogue, and enunciated the opening line — " To many I a wonder am." Immediately the congregation seemed to be over- powered by an inclination to indulge in laughter which, indeed, some were unable to restrain. The precentor faltered, but proceeded to read the line again. This tended only to increase the excitement ; and while some quickly withdrew from the church, others concealed their faces under the pews, or buried them in their handkerchiefs. Sir Hemy rosi' up, and, looking down at the precentor, called to him, " So you are a wonder, John ; tuni your w ig." Tlie oddity of the precentor's appearance with his wig misplaced, viewed in comiection with his pro- clamation, had produced the mistimed merrinuiit. A precentor of humour, when Lord Eglinton s 167 I' ■■ t I , ,i THISTLEDOWN family were crowded out of sitting room in the kirk, exclaimwl, " Stand hack, Jock, and let the Eglinton family in ; "" then continued to read — " Nor stand in sinners' way." Dr. Chalmers attempted to abolish the practice of reading the line, and used to tell a story of an old woman in his congregation who stoutly maintained that the change was anti -scriptural. On being asked by the great preacher what was the scripture of which she regarded the change as a contravention, the go(xl old dame at once replied by citing the text, *' Line upon line,*" which, as she fancied, settled the matter. It has been a common ambition among musical young men in country places to have " a day in the desk,'"" and many soiTOwful experiences might be related in connection therewith — experiences which would go to show that the late James Smith's account of " Bareuones' Fii-st Day in the Desk " was not a severely oveitlrawn picture. Barebones' account is in " common metre," and the crisis of the occasion is thus graphically described : — " Forth like a martyr then I went, Quench'd were Hope's smouldering emben; And walk'd into a lofty churc-h, Well filled with country members. With fear I saw each icy glance That like a serpent stings ; Then mounted quickly to the desk. And seemed to mount on wings. 158 I ^ HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS Then when the psalm was given out« I raised my forl< on high With energy of fierce despair. And felt inclined to cry. Again the line was thunderd o'er. Cold drops ran down n>y face ; A burning throb riish'd through ray brain. For I had lost the place. I seized the first that came to hand. And sang with deadly shudder ! ' Bletsed is he that wuely doth Thtpoor man I case consider.' With knocking knees I slew MotUrote, And then 'mid some surprises, I called at York and Manchester^ Then landed at Ihvizfs ! jfi At length St. Lawrence glided by, 'Mid stillness most unp'easant. When suddenly a vjice exvlairaed — * Stop ! that'll do at present ! ' T started, ceased, and looking round. Beheld the congregation Wild staring, with distended jaws. In speechless consternation. First one began to shake his head — Another — and another ; Then, blinded with despair, I cried, • My mother ! Oh, my mother .' ' Down from the desk I swiftly sprang, And reached the vestry door; Then rent the sable gown in twain, And cast it on the floor." 159 •I 1 ii :4'. 41 .i;>* •A / i THISTLEDOWN In a rurjil village in Perthshire, a number of years ago, a tiiilois apprentice, who was fain to thrill the congregation with a display of his vocal powers, failed even more conspicuously than Barebones aforesaid. This individual was allowed a "day,'^ only after repeated entreaty, the habitual occupant of the " letteran " being dubious about the success of the venture. However, when sanction was at length given, the "Psalms" were early secured from the minister, and elaborate preparations ensued. Sabbath came, and on the last toll of the bell our hero emerged from the Session-house and stepped with jaunty and self-confident air into the desk in front of the pulpit. He was a sight to behold, and not soon to forget. Every hair was in its right place, and shone from the superabundance of scented pomade, and his whole demeanour was that of one who had come forth to con(juer, or to die. While the first psalm was being read he kept sounding his pitchfork. As the time for rising drew near a nervous twitching of the mouth and eyes ensued, which was accompanied by sudden paleness of the features. Promptly as the minister sat down, how- ever, he banged to his feet, once more struck the pitchfork on the book-boaid, once more sounded his doh. Then he raised his book — turned his eyes on the congregation — opened his mouth — and — and — no — not a sound would come. Perceiving the situation, the precentor, who was in his own family pew, opportunely threw his voice into the breach, 160 ■)Y .1 HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS and led off' with the tune which he had previously directed should be siuig to the first psahn. At the same inouient his young substitute disappeared below the desk, and there he remained throughout all the rest of the service, and until every soul but himself and the beadle had quit the sacred edifice, the precentor having, as each successive psalm was given out, stood in his family pew and led the congrega- tion. But, though baffled for the time being, Willie was not altogether discomfited, and iK'fore many months had passed he appealed for an oppor- tunity to *' redeem his character," as he put it. The re(juest was by and by conceded, and he "stack"" a second time. ^Vgain he essayed to "ledeem his character," and once more the opportunity wius affbixled. This time it was to be "now or never," and no effort was to be spared to ensure success. He was himself thoroughly confident, as heretofore, and in marching proudly kirkwards he came up on the village wiseacre of the time, who was stepping leisurely in the same direction. " Well, Mr. C , I am going to redeem my character to-day," said Willie. The old man stopped and looked reflectively. " Ay ! ai-e ye gaein' to be precentin' the day, Willie.?" " Yes," replied Willie, proudly. " Weel, then," said Mr. C , "Fm guein' hame;" and home he went. He might have gone to church that day, however, 161 K< ''^H I 'Cn. n It ' ' Ai M. M u xi ■ 'i / THISTLEDOWN for Willie came off' with flying colours • and, though he hius precenk'd many a year and day since, he has never had occiision again to " redeem his character." Hut precent<)i"s have "stuck" after they have had yeai-s of experience, and I have heaitl of one in :i country kiik who frecjuently pitched his tunes t(H) high, and when he failed in his efforts to ciirry them through, he would stop and shake his head and exclaim, " It'll no do, chaps ; we'll need to try't a wee thocht laicher." Anothei-, after repeated ineffectual attempts to raise the tune on a certain occasion, turned round, and looking up to the minister, exclaimed, " ]3(kI, sir, that psalmll no sing ava." One who wsis suffering froni cold occupied the desk so imperfectly that the minister whispertnl to him over the pulpit — " What's the matter wi' ye, John > " """Deed, sir," leplied John, " Tm fash'd wi' an unco kittlin"' i' the pauj) o' my hfuss," "A kittlin"', do ye ca't ?" exclaimed the unnister, loud enough for all the congregation to hear him. "■ It sooiids to my lug mair like the catterwaw o' an auld tam-cat." And there have been humorous incidents connected with the praise of the Church for which the precentor could only be held diix:ctly responsible. Thus in the Statistical Account we read that, in the days of Mr. Cununing, the late Episcopal minister in the |>arish of Halkirk, iu Caithness-shire, there was no 102 I % I f HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS siiigiT of j)>Milm.s in the chuifh but the " lottn-f^ne^ ftiid one Tait, ^imlencr in Hnuil. Tins Tait siiii^ so loud, urul with such a laigi; open mouth, that a young follow of the name of Ivenich w>us tempted to throw a small round stone into his mouth, wlu ivhy his teeth were broken arul his sinking stopped at once, and he hiinself almost choked. Inverach innnediately took to his heils ; the service wjls converted to laughter; two of T.iit's sons cluised and overtook him ; and the scciu! w.ts dosed with a despei ate fight. Precentoi"s, like musiciU men generally, of coui'se, have not suffered from an overstock of modesty. Dr. Blair used to tell the following anecdote of his precentor with a great deal of glee. Happening to preach one day at a distance, he lu-xt day met tiiat official as he was returning home — " Well," said the Doctor, "how did matters pix)- ceed ye:terday at chuich in my absence?" ""■Died," replied the man of song, "no verv weel, I'm dootiiT: for I wjusna there. Doctor, ony mair than yourse)\" I have heard how the vanity of a choirmaster was effectually ciiished. It was in a certain church in one of our large towns some years ago. The rev. Doctor had given out a well-known psalm, wjiich he expected would he sung to the tune of Alart/jrdorn. Instead of that it was sung to a new tune which none of the congregation knew, and the choir had thus the whole singing to themselves. When they 163 Mi' \Ul ,^ v\>>\ '#. / M > '/ THISTLEDOWN w xi hiul fitiislu'd, tlio Doctor rose, with an anj^ry look on his face, HI ul vcinaiki'd, "Since the choir have sung to thi'ir own j)iaise and glory, wo shall now sing to the piaise and gloiy of Clod."" Foi-thwith he 1)( gan the words to the tune of Martyrdom^ and the whole of the people joined with givat warmth. The reading of the proclamations, or marriage banns, etc., was long a duty which in country pari.sh chinches generally devolved on the precentor, and many sufficiently funny blunders was the result. In a small seaport town in the Noilh, many yeare ago, when vessels left port, those of the crew who were members of the visible Church in the midst thereof weixi recommended publicly to the prayere of the congregation. Captain M*Phei"son and his Luly were prominent membei-s, and the Sabbath succeed- ing the aiptairrs departure on one occasion, the written intimation which was handed to the prcv centor read as, follows : — " Captain M'Pherson having gone to sea, his wife desires the piayere of the congregation in his behalf."" By the simple displace- ment of the comma after " sea,"" the people were told that "Captain M'Pherson having gone to see his wife, desires the prayere of the congregation in his behalf." Precentors have sometimes received compliments which might be envied by those occupying higher places. The late Rev. Mi-. M'Dougall, of Paisley, used to tell of ha\ing been accosted by a man on leaving some meeting, with — 164 HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS « Yoirie Mr. AI'Dougull, I think ?" "Yes, I am. IIt)w (U) yj)u h.i|»jM'a to know me?*" "Oh ! Tin whiles in your kirk." " Do you live in l^aisUy ?" "No, IliveinCJleskir.'^ "Then, I suppose you sometimes sbiy with friends in Puisley ? " "No, I just walk out on the Sundays." " That's a long walk, surely ? " nie minister was beginning to feel (piite proud of his power of drawing a congregation, and »ii(l — "Do you stay over the night after going to church ? " " No, I just walk back again." "Tliat is a veiy long walk." ** Oh, ay, it's a bit gude walk ; but ye see I think a deal o' your precentor," It W(vs the minister here: — In a rural ])arish the old preacher felt out of sorts one Sabbath, and to provide a rest for himself bciore delivering the sermon, he gave out a hmg psalm to be sung, not talking into account the precentor's bad cold, which wjis a chronic complaint. The first four vci-scs were finished not so b^uUy, but at the fifth Tanniuis stuck, and no amount of tuning could get hini started again. At last the minister had to get to his feet, and in no very pleasant njood. Accordingly, lean- ing over the pulpit, he addressed the precentor thus: — "TamniJis, if ye mak' sic a waik about skirlin' out four vei-ses o' a psalm noo, hoo do ye 165 « i, , ( / THISTLEDOWN 1 1 I' V .< ( \ i^r i expect yc're to manage to sing through a' the ages o' eteniitv ?" The story of " The I'oxch' Tails," so mlinii'ably elaborated to the (liinensioiis of a piibhe " remhiig" by Dr. Moxey of iMlinbnrgh, I was accustonicd to hear, more than twenty ytai-s ago, as having trans- piii'il l)('t\Mtn a country minister and his pri'ientor, Sa^l(^y .lohnslon; and in this way. In the coni>e of a twa-hundc'd enuk one day, tlie minister had vi'ntuii'd on some fiii-ndly criticism of Sandy's singing, whereupon Sandy retahati'd by remarking tliat he tliought the singing would com[)are favour- ably \vith the preaching any duv. "Don't lit us (|uariel, Sandy," sjiid the minister; " we may each benefit by the other's criticism. Now, tell me candidly, w hat the chief faults of my preach- ing are ? " " On, I'm no sayiif I ha'e ony fauts till't, but just this, that I've noticed ye — weel — that is to say — ye exaggerate a wee." " Well, Sandy, if I exaggerate the truth in the pulpit, I am cei'tainiy not aware of it." " Ve do't a' the same, though," ii\sisted the pivcentor. " Sandy, I respect your opinion," said the minister, " but I am so satisfied that I am innoce?it of the charge you have preferred against me, that I now call upon you, if ever on any future occasion you shall hear me exaggerate in the pulj)it, you will pull me up there and then, just by emitting a low, thin whistle." 1G6 f ' \ HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS Siuuly ji^ri'td to this arrungeincnt. Scvcml Sablxillis passed, and nothing oiit-of-joint was wiid or litard. The pircriilor, however, still kipt his "hij^ on the C(Kk," and at length his patience was rewanh'd. Ixrtnring one day on that cliapter of the Scriptures which descrilK'S Samson as catcliing tliree hundred foxes, tying them t^iil to tjiil, civsting fin'hmnds in their midst, stj'.rting tliein anu^M" the standing corn of tlie Phihstines, and buinii,^ it down. " My friends,'' said he, "you will Ix) wo- 'Bering in your minds how Samson could tie so m.iuy foxes 'ail to tail, un the best man in Sc( tland couhhTt lie (wo ui" our foxes' t^iils together. Samson, however, was the strongest man the world luus ever seen, ind these Kiustern foxes, ti"avellei-s tell us, hml very long Uiils — tails, indeed, forty and fifty feet long. [Pu'centor emits a low thin whistle.] I should have Siiid," con- tinuetl the preacher, "that — that — is the account given by the earliest travellers to the East, and that recent investigation had prove \\\ n ft- HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING CHAPTER VII HUMOURS OK DRAM-DRINKING IN SCOTLAND " Lee/e me on drink, it gie's us inair Than eitlier school or college : It kindles wit, it waukcns leur. It pangs us fu' o' knowledge. Be't whisky gill or penny wheep. Or ony stronger potion. It never fails, in drinking deep. To kittle up oor notion By night or day." SO sang Scotland's greatest, Scotland's sweetest poet ; and whether in his heai-t of hearts he believed the sentiment which in those lines we find so vigorously expressed, he has undoubtedly re- flected therein, for the enlightenment of his country- men through succeeding ages, the popular notion of his own time regarding the potency of the ** dram." In Burns'" day, and for some time thereafter, happiness and whisky were regarded as almost synonymous terms ; deep drinking was fashionable ; and " the last beside his chair to fa'''" was verily the hero of the social community. *' We''re happiest when we're fou,'" is a well-worn proverb. *'We''ll aye sit an' tipple owre a wee drappie o''t,"'"' croons an old song- writer, evidently impressed with the conviction that a man could not be better occupied than in consum- 169 "it'. 1: " JM li ■;t*V '.,"'^> *« »l III t 1 If 1 ! 1 " ^ 1 1 J ■ m ■ _, .1 t *' - - ^^^ m m i > ^ ll / I ! -i ;:fi i\ THISTLEDOWN la iiig malt liquors. "Fivedom and whisky gang tht'gither — tak' aff your dram ! " shouts Burns. Yes. But the same sweet singer has fervidly prayed — " Oh, wad some power the giftie gi'e us, To sec oursel's as itbers see us." And happily, whilst the shout is going in at the one ear and out at the other — is failing to conniiand obedience — the prayer is gradually being answered. Old customs, like old prejudices, no matter how absurd they may be, die hard ; but with the general advance of eduoition in Scotland, and the dissemina- tion of cheap and healthy literature, the people are becoming day by day more distinctly convinced of the many ludicrous absurdities connected with our social habits, particularly with the old-fashioned ideas relating to hospitality and conviviality, and with the practice of persistent and indiscriminate dram-drinking. A man may be meriy nowadays without being " half fou,'' and yet not be considered "daft,"" and we have been realising that there are other ways of hospibibly entertaining a friend than by filling him to the chin with whisky. Our dram- drinking tendencies have made us the butt of the Continental jokist, and no wonder How utterly absurd the practice in general has been — in many instances how highly humorous! Your teetotal lecturer, I have often thought, dwells too frequently on the tragedy of the subject. It has a tragic side, no doubt, and a woefully pathetic one ; but very 170 HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING much connected with it, like the antics of a half- tipsy individual, is ludicrously humorous, and needs only to be dangled belbre the eye of sober sense to render the persistent and indiscriminate participator more than half-ashamed of his connection with it. Let our active teetotallers instruct themselves fairly in the art of photography, and go around ph 11^ ~ cover whether or not he was within a day''s march of any person of intelligence, he came up, aiter walking about two miles, to a man breaking stones by the road-side. InteiTogating the workman as to the amenities of the locality in general, the dominie proceeded to make en(|uirics in particular, and said — " How far dist^uit is the nearest minister?" " Ou, about four mile," said the roadman. *' Indeed. And how far are we from a doctor ? " " Ten mile an"* a bittock, e'en as the craw flees," replied the roadman. " Dear me, that's very awkwaixl. How do you do when anyone turns suddenly ill ? " " Ou, just gi'e him a gless o' whisky." " But if a glass of whisky has not the desired effect ; what then ? " " We just gi'e him anither ane." " But if two does not set him right ? " " Weel, just gi'e him three." " But if neither three nor four either will cure him ? " " Weel, then, fill him fou, and put him till his bed." " Yes ; but if filling him fou does not even suffice?" " Weel, just lat him lie in his bed and di-ink until he's better." " Yes, yes, my friend, but if whisky administered to him in any quantity will not cure him ? " " Ou, weel, then, sir," gravely replied the roadman, "if whisky winna cure a man, he's no worth curin', an' may weel be latten slip." 174 .1/ itil Ired m. HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING Oh, they had subhme confidence in the " dram " as a revivifying agent, and no mistake about it ! Indeed, it wjis regarded in some quaiiera as a necessity to existence. And "be caret'u'' o' the mercies" was a stock phrase relating to it. The Highlander, content to pray for "a mountain of snuff'," wanted *' oceans o' whisky.'''' It waa called in to act Jis " an eye-opener," and to serve also as " a night-cap." So regularly had a cei-tain Scotch laird used it in the latter capacity, that once in his lii'itime — so he said himself — he "got an awfu' fricht." " We ran short o' the mercies," stiid he, " and I had to gang to my bed sober. I diima feel ony the waur the day ; btU^ Lodsake^ vmn, 1 got an axi'Jn fricht.''' A well-known Scotch laird of the old school, Dean Ramsay tells us, expressed himself with great indignation when someone chai-ged hard drinking with having actually killed people. " Na, na," said he ; "I never knew onybody that was killed wi"" drinking, but I hae kenned some that dee'd in the training." So have we all, laird — a great many ! And yet the students have been numerous and pei-sistent. That Highlander who, when the minister shook his reverend head towards him, and said, " Wliisky is a bad, bad thing, Donald," replied, " Ay, sir, especially bad whisky," thought, no doubt, that he had made a concession in opinion that would greatly molify his clerical mentor. Many of yoiu* tipplere possessed a 175 -»i'- m i|ja r ' 1 i H\ i.>s HI n i n THISTLEDOWN (r '^'^} ixjugh aiid rc'iuly wit, and from that fact no little humour has sprung. A Perthshire blacksmith, whom I myself knew intimately, wjus once remons- trated with by the Free Church minister who lived near by anent his fre(|uent and excessive indulgences. " Was ye ever drunk, sir?'' inquired the smith. " No, Donald,'" said the minister, " I am glad to say I never w»us." " I thocht as nuickle," said the smith ; " for, man, if ye was ance richt drunk, ye wad never like to be sober a' your days again." " There's death in the cup ! "" exclaimed a violent teetotal lecturer as he rushed up to where an old farmer was ctirefully toning his dram with water from a huge decanter. More of the pura had flowed foi-th than wjis intended, and eyeing his glass critically, "Hcch, an' I think ye're richt, freend," was the response, " for Fve droorCd the miller.'''' "Tliere is good whusky, and there is better whusky," Siiid an Qld Highlander, " but there never yet wjis bad whusky." Many Lowlanders act as if they held the same opinion. " You're just a sot, man, John," once said a wife to her tippling husband ; "ye ha'e drucken a hoose in your time." " Ah, weel, Kate, I think its been a thack ane," was tlie reply ; " an' there's some o' the stoure in my throat yet." "It's an awful thing that drink," exclaimed a clergyman, when the barber, who was visibly 176 * u my a kibly HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING affected, fiocl (b'ttwii bluod fix)iu his face for th« third time. " Ay,""* replied the tonsorial artist, with a wicki'd leer in his eye, "it niak's the skin tender." Told that whisky was a slow poison ; " It niann be awfVr slow, then," said lui old vttonin, " for I've toothfu'd an' toothfu'd awa' at it this saxty year, an' I'm aye livin' yet." Neil Gow honestly declared that, when in a cei-tain condition, " it wasna the length o' the ro«id, but the bremlth o't," that bothered him. Another, " wha leeward whiles against his \\ ill " wjis taking ** a bicker," on being asked by a pjussing actjuaint- ance if he was getting home, elot|uently replied in the word, " Whiles." *' You are reeling, Janet," remarked a country pai"son, meeting one of his parishioners canying more sail than ballast, as a preliminary to lecturing her on the evils of her conduct. "Troth, an' I canna aye be spinnin', sir," retiu'ned she, casting anchor in the middle of the road, and leering blandly up into the face of her interrogator. " You do not seem to catch my meaning clearly, Janet," continued the divine. " Do you know where drunkards, go ? " " Indeed, they generally gang whaur they get the whisky cheapest and best, sir." " Yes, Janet, but there is another place where they go. They go where there is weeping and wailing and gnjishing of teeth." 177 i ■ ■ I i I THISTLEDOWN "Ilmnph! " siu'crcd the casc-hiinlcnwl old sinner. "Thry niM gniusli Ucth that have tutli to gnasli. I hav'na had hut ae stiniij) this forty year.'"' A Perthshii'e villa^f tradesman, recently deceitsed, lis a rule " took a dia[)[)ie niair than was gude for him " when he visited the eoiinty town. Indeed, he occasionally got "on the hatter" and did not return home until after the lapse of several days. Return- ing from one of these " houts " his wilt' met him in the door with the (|uestion, " Whaur ha'e ye been a' this tinse r ""■ " Pe .th," was the sententious reply. "l\ith!" echoed the wife. "An' what was ye doin' s.ie lang at IViih ? Nae moi-tal man could be doiir gude stayin' in Perth for three hale days on 111 . " Awa ! an' no haiver, woman,'' was the dry reply ; "plenty o' fouk stay a' their days in Perth an' do brauly." The parish minister, in reproving this same character wained him that there would be a day of reckoning for it all yet. "I wish a day may do it, sir," said the innnovahle Peter, " it'll tak' a day an' a hauf I doubt. Deed, a day an' a hauf, sir, ilka minute o't," and leisurely mo\ed on. One festive old Scot recently visited another in the English capital. They had not met before for many yeai-s, and a good deal of hot water and sugar joined by a corresponding (juantity of " bai'ley bree " was stowed away within their waistcoats before it 178 HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING was coiisidtTid that full justice hml In't'ii doiu to the (MciLsioii. By this tiiiif thi- night was well tuivuiicid, and the visitor begun to s{)eAk of making tracks tor his hotel, when a cab was accordingly called and brought to the d(M)r. Now came the supreme moment of |)arting, and the host having led his tiiend by the arm in devious fashion to the head of tlie stair, halted and solemnly addressed him. "John,"" .s..id he, " I winna gang doon the stjiir myseP for fear I mayna get up again. Tm r<'al gled to have seen you, and we've had a grand nicht. (TO(Kl-nicht, John, go(Ml-nicht ; and mind your feet on the stair. And John, hark ye ! when ye gang oot at the do> a Ixnly get the waur o't. It's the conveeviality o' the thing that plays the plisky. Ve sfe, sir, ye mi-et a freend on tlie street, an' ye bik"" him in to gie him a dram, an' ye crack awa' for a while, an' syne he ai's in a dram, an' there ye crack an' ye think, an' ye drink an' ye crack, an' (UkI, ye just get fbu afore ye ken wliaur ye are. It's easy for Crunnnie, Jis I said, she has naebody to lead her aff her feet, as ye may say. She comes (M)t here an' tak's h 'r tlrink, an' no anithei- c-oo says Crummie ye're there. But, certes, sir, had Dauvit Tamson's coo just come to the ither side o' the burn a meenit syne, an' Jis Crunnnie was takin' her fii-st toothfu', had flappit hersel' doon on her hunkers an' said, ' Here's to ye, Crummie,' I'll eat my lx)nnet if she wadna hae Happit hersel' doon on her hunkers an' said, ' Here's to j/ou, Hoinie.' An' there the twa jauds wad hae sitten an' drunken until they were baith blind fou. 1 tell you iigain, sir, it's the conveeviality o' the thing that plays the plisky." And yet there are instances to show that some of 180 HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING thost' old tipplers rtijjciitcd somewhat of their folly. The celebrated teetotaller, tlie Rev. Dr. Ritchie, of I'otterrow, Ivhnbiir^h, ojiee went to fonii a teetobd society at Peebles, and a man and wife who heard the spei'ches were conscience-smitten, and after they went home the wife said — " X)d, John, I think we'll hae to s<.'t (Ukhi our names to that th'niff yet.'"' " We'll gang to anither o' the meetings yet afore we decide,"" s^iid the husband. Next meeting siiowed the pictun; of a young man ruined by drink, and the two went forward at the elosi' to set their names down. " But are we never to taste it ava' ? '' the}' fisked simultaneously. "Never," (juoth the minister, *^ unless for a medicine.'''' Nothing daunted by this the old couple tcK)k the pledge, aiul went home, taking a bottle of whisky with them — the which Janet stowed away in the ben-house press to wait on cases of emergency. More than a fortnight elapsed before diink was again meitioned by one to tiu- other, when one night John complained of an " awlu' j)ain in his stammack," and suggested that it might not be safe to go to bed without taking just half a glass or so. "(), man, John, it's a p'ty ye hae been sae lang o"* speakin','' said Janet, " for 'odsake, I've had sf jus/, *'l 2 ' THISTLEDOWN An old woman, who was a r\y^\d total abstainer, was very ill. The doctor told the tnu'se that she must give her a little toddy llic last thing at night. So when night canje the nurse said to her [)atient, *'The doctor says ye maun tak"" some toddy." "Oh, no, no!" whined the poor old body; " ifs against my pi'inciple." " lint," remonstrated the nui-se, "the doctor says ye maun tak' it." " Aweel," replied the old woman resignedly, " I suppose we maun use the means; but mak"* it strong, and gar me tak*' it — gar me tak'' it." Tarn Foi-syth was one of those who went from bad to worse with the di'am, and never repented of iiis folly. One night in going home the breadth of the road fatigued him so, that, coming to a (piiet comer, he lay down, and wjis soon fast jisleep. Some yt)ung fellows finding him lying snoring, resolved to have some inn out of the reprobate, so they gently removed him to a dark cellar. Getting some phos- phorus, they rubbed it on thei- own and Tarn's hands and faces, and then awakened their victim. Tarn seeing the state those around him were in, inipii red, fearful ly — " Whaur am I .? " " Ve'iv dead," said one of the young men. " rioo lang have I been dead ? " " A fortnicht." " All are ye dead, too ? " " Ves." " Hoo lang have you been dead ? " 182 S in. HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING "" Thri'o weeks." "Then," suid Tain, without u treinour in his voice, "yoiril be better uajUiiiiit here aboot than me : there's a shiHiir, skirt awa' roond an see if ye can get hauf" a niutchkin, for Vm as dry''s a wooden leg." I have lemai'ked on how strongly the practice of dram-diinking had established itself in the social life of Scotland. It is the sore sj)ot in our national character — a distinct charactei'istic (happily on the wane) — and the inducements to participation have been often novel and therefore humorous. Well-to- do individuals long ago five |uently gave instructions to their ix'laiives likely to su;\ive them to be sure and have plenty of whisky at their funerals. A Montrose tradesman, feeling the near appi-oach of his dissolution, signalled his wife to his bedside and very graxely said, " Ye'll get in a bottle o"* whisky, Mary, for there's to be sad cheenge liere this nicht." The association of the "dram " with our marriage festivities has been happily hit off* by Robert Buchanan in "The Wedding of Shon MacLean," where "every })iper was Ibu — twenty pipei's to- gether;" but surely the stupidity, the folly, the humour of dram-di-inking to excess was never better illustrated than by Burns in the tale of "Tam o"' Shanter." To have attributed such haii-lifting experiences to any sober C^anick faiMuer, as he " frae Ayr a'e nicht did canter," would have been absurd, and the author knew it. Such a phantiismagoria of 18;3 't.v % i \i \ > ! .1.' thistlp:down *' warlocks* and witches in a duna; '''' could Ik' pal.ciik only to tlu" liculed iniii^ination of a "■ blcllu'rin', blustcrin', drunken hlclluni,'"' such as t,he jXHit has ix»[)r('S('nl('d his hero to hav(> l)(>en. Of whisky the poet has said— " [1 makfs a umn forget his woes, It luMgliliiis all liis joys ; It iiifiki's till! widow's lieart to sing Thouffli tlie fears are in her «yes." And SO it, does ; hut it reduces all who inibilx? it for such eileets, mentally to tho level of the ring-tailcKi inonkiy, and makes them cut capeis jus fanlaslic as were ever pi -.Ibrnu'd by the most agile " Jaeko." To this showing let our furiher illustrations liere lend, A West country farmer on i\ cei'tain moonhVht night, setting out towaids home from the market town where he liad sat too long and dinink tm) dee[), had reached the burn near to his own house, attempt- ing to cross which by the stepping rtones he nu'ssed his footing and came down with a splash into the burn. Tnable to raise himself bi^yond his hands and knees, he looked down into the clear water, in which the nuM)n was vividly leflected. In this positicm, and with the water streaming from his foi'elock and beard he besjfan to shout to his wife. " Mar l' HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING » 'f i ■- j the out /oil, " WliMur am I?" rejoined tlie voice from llie bum. "(fudeness kens wliiiur I am, Murget, hut I see Fm fui' ubuue tlie uuine." A country laird on one oct-fision sent liis gardenei', rTo* " by name, to liis cellar to bottle a band of" whi.,Ky, and cautioned him at the same time to Ix' sure and drink one whole j^lass of tlu; licjuor before slartinj^ to IIh! woi-k, or else the fumes mi<^ht go to his head and si'riously affect liim. John w.-is a careful man, gi'uerally speaking, so took extra precautions, though these were not attended with satisfactory results. Kntering the cellar the laird wjus astonished to find his trustear the rulers of the city did that which was right in their own eyes). 188 f r 51 i rht of [try HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING 3. Now tiieso wise men Jisscniljlcd thciiisclvcs to- geilitT, Hiul lluy s'lid one to the oilier, (lo to, let us reineinlu'r our hretlu'eu whom we have left. 4. l''or, behold, we be in a fur country, and it shall come to pass that men shall say to us, Ve lx> namek'ss on the earth ; ye have fled from the land of your nativity, because the land of youi- nativity is poor. 5. This thing, tlierefore, will we do ; we will make a great feast, so that the nose of wliomsoever smelleth it shall tingle, and we will call to mind the ancient days and the mighty deids of our fathers. (). So they appointed a day, and many were gatheivd together -a mixed nniltitude from the Land of Cakes and of Thistles, fiom the West and from the North, and from the Isles of the Sea, 7. And, behold, a great feast wjis prej)ared, and men in white raiment ministered unto them, and a ruler of the feast wns "ppoinied, and set in the midst. 8. And forthwith to each man wjis given a writing of the good things of the feast, and the writing was in a tongue no man could understand, for the language was the language of the Crdjuiml, which signilietb in the heathen tongue, a frog. 9. And some there were who pretended to know the writing, and the interpretation thereof; now these were hypocrites; for they knew but six letters of the writing, and those letters were HAGGIS, and even this much was a great mystery. 189 > . 1 i I- '/ f ■'I THISTLEDOWN i' a 'n^i 1/ ■fj 10. And the dishes no nwin could number ; the people ate mightily, as it were the spjice of one hour. And no nmn spoke to his neiglibour till his inner man was comforted. 11. And while they ate, behold there drew near three mighty men of valour, clothed in many- coloured garments ; and they bore in their arms musical instruments shaped like unto a beast of prey. 12. And they blew mightily upon what seemed the tail thereof, and straightway came there forth shrieks and sounds as if it were the bowlings of the dannied. 13. And the hearts of the people were comforted, for this is that therein their great strength lieth. 14. And wine wtis brought in vessels, but the children of the North would have none of these; for they quenched their thirst with the Dew of the Mountain, which is the water of fire. 15. Then spake the wise men of the congregation unto them, and called to mind the ancient days and mighty deeds of their fathers. And the people rejoiced exceedingly. 16. Now it came to pass when they had eaten and drunk greatly, even unto the full, that the hinges of their tongues were loosened — ^yea, even the joints of their knees. 17. And the ruler of the feast fled to his home, and a third part of the multitude followed, and a third part remained, saying. We thirst ; and a third part rose up to play. 190 ' -J' ■ i :l' HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING 18. And they played after the fashion of their country, and their nioveiuents rescnible 1 A mm w 1 THISTLEDOWN ^|i \\y I 1/ «.thcrH drovt; tlicir own clniriots home, atirl saw many sliaugt! sij^hls, Cor lluy found giasH ^lowiii^ uiid (litclics ill till' midst of tlio way wheif they luul not portvivod tlitin hcforc. J25. And it caint! to pass that in the morning many lami'idcd, and took no breakfast that day; and the men in wliite raiment hrouf^ht inito them ;iiany cnnnin/^ly-devised drinks, yea, pick-me-nps, (or their tonj^nes clove unto tlie roofs of their mouths, and the spittle on their heard wjus like anto a small silver coin, even a sixpence. 26. Rut, wlun they thought on the previous day, they rejoiced again, for they said, Our brethren whom we have left will hear of it at the Feast of the New Year, and they will remember us and bless us, and our hearts and hands shall be strengthened for our labour here. That is (juite delicious! And now we will allow (jeorge Outram to close the chaper with his inimitable poem : — DRINKrX" DRAMS, OH, "riiE TII'lM.r.a's HROOUKSS." Hi- .'ince \v:;j holy An" iiiclanclioly. Till he fand the folly iY singin' psalms ; He's now as red's a rose. An' there's ^imples on his nose. An' in size it daily grows. By drinkin' drams. 192 i^ his HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING H«; Hm ; I h i 1 »/„ THISTLEDOWN But now, without a lee. He could nrnk' anither sea. For he's left philosophy. An' ta'en to drams. He fand that learning, fame. Gas, philanthropy, an' steam. Logic, loyalty, gude name. Were a' mere shams ; That the source o' joy below. An' the antidote to woe. An' the only proper go. Was drinkin' drams. It's true that he can see Auld Nick, wi' gloatin' c'e. Just waitin' till he dee 'Mid frichts an' dwams ; But what's Auld Nick to him. Or palsied tongue or limb, Wi' glass filled to the brim, When drinkin drams. I l», 194 M^ i"^ THE THISTLE AND 1 HE ROSE r 'M CHAPTER Vni THK, THISTLE AND THE KOSK FIFTY yeai-s ago native opinion geiieiai]^ would, I believe, have corroborated the statement of the inspired Shepherd of the " Noctes," tliat " the lMiglishei"s are the noblest race o' leevin' men — except the Scotch." That very decided coinplinKnt, notwithstanding, however ; and even although now- adays so many Scotchmen are fain to emulate the Cockney speech and fashion in all things, it is putting the case in the mildest terms to say that, up to and even beyond the period indicated, there had never been much love lost between the deni/ens of the sister nations, Scotland and England. On all pre-eminent occasions, subsequei'' to the Union, to the credit of both be it -Ttt » to!d, their cherished antipathies — trifies mayhap at the best — have magnanimously been »/. wed to lapse for the time being, and "shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee," John Bull and Sandy Ciwmil, aided and abetted at all times by their brow beaten half-!)rother Paddy, have presented a brave and utibrf'!;en front of steel to the enemies of their United Kingdoms. But, the conflicts over — the sword sheathed -the old animosity, the chronic jealousy, hfis aiioin and 195 .) ,1 • ' ft '[ ', :ii;v h M i \i i}i% THISTLEDOWN 1 ' \' IS 1 |B / K t R *t 1 , t 1 ll /' f again inanifestcd itself between the Thistle and the Rose. Into the causes of this little estrangement in friendly feeling which so long obtained, but hfis now almost entirely disappeared, though some of them are obvious, we shall not trouble oui-selves here particularly to inquire, but will rather review some of their effects as they are illustrated in the records of the many witty skirmishes which have taken place here and there between them, and in which tlie Thistle has fairly justified its popular motto of "iWw/o me impune lacessH!"" Yes! and surely it is remarkable — is an extraordinary circum- stance, indeed, when viewed in the light of the fact that the English deny to the Scotch any idea of wit — that in nearly every witty encounter that has taken place between them Sandy has had the best of it. They are "a noble race o' leevin' men," as the Shepherd averred. But, no, blustering John Bull is no match for canny Sandy Cawmil. He would have delighted in coercing him — would have given his right hand to have been able to say, " Sandy, 7/oM must.'''* But, as the late David Kennedy, the Scottish singer, used to put it, when introducing the song of " Scots wha hae," " jnust was buried at Bannockburn." And thor.ceforth, whilst strife vrith the sword had ceiised between them, "a wordy war" — a war of wit and ridicule — long obtained instead. It has been a favourite sarcasm of John that the finest view in all Scoiland to the eye of the Scot is the road that leads from it into England. To 196 A THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE He have say, inedy, iicing led at v'ith war " stead. it the Scot To which Sandy has made the withering reply, " There's nae doot, John, a hantle o' us hae fund oor w ay to Lunnon, but it's been gude for you as ifs been gude for us, for everybody kens ye wtid be pidr things withooVs.'" Notable features in the characteristics of the two are these, that each luis been inclined to over-estimate himself and to under-cstimate his neighbour. In the opinion of many a living London Cockney, a Scotsman is a being only slightly superior to a Red Indian savage. 'Arry entertains in all seriousness the conviction that every home-bred Scotsman is red-headed ; and that we all wear kilts, play on the bag-pipes, drink whisky ad lib., snuff j and feed exclusively on kail-brose and bannocks of barley meal. Sandy, on the other hand, hixs regarded himself individually as the ideal man — the noblest work of his Creator — and hfus declared the English to be "maybe no sae veiy bad consider] iT, but even at tbvi ; st neither mair nor less than a parcel o' upse+lni', irnorant, pock-puddin's." It has been E gJ h iiioney in general, but Scotch brains in purtici-'';^ he has asserted time and again, that have made London what it is. " All the brightest intellectual luminaries of your London firmament," he has told John Bull, "have been nui*sedand reared amid the hills o' Bonnie Scotland." " "What of Shakespeai'e ? " John has asked. " You don't claim him as a Scotchman, do you ?" "No; oh no," Sandy has replied, "I'll no say t^ 1 oi >ikespeare was a Scotchman ; although the 197 il- y i >v i\ I !9fl 1/ THISTLEDOWN \ IV '«• r '% ' way ye brag o' him ye seem to think he was maist clever eneuch to be ane.'"' xV»d as in the opinion of the typical Scotsman there is no man to equal a Scotsman. t>o there is to his mi ^ no land on earth like his own Scotland. He mt< '^^■'\e wandered far away from it, but distance ox,': uiade his heart grow fonder, and lent enchantment cO the view. And, as almost every Scotsman is a poet, if he took to sing its praises he would do so with such enthusiasm as is revealed in these lines : — Land of chivalry and of freedom. Land of old traditional fame. May thy noble sons and daughtpi-s Long uphold thy honoured name. Land where foreign foe ne'er ventured, Land where tyrant never trod. Land whose sons are ever foremost. Treading nobly life's high road. Land of simple-hearted kindness. Land of patriotic worth. May thy virtues ever flourish. Hardy clansmen of the North ! Land where rest in silent chambers Ashes of our honoured sires. May their memories long be cherished Round our humble cottage fires." To the critical eye of John Bull the scene would appear difterent ; and could he have sung as pithily in the vernacular speech of Auld Scotland, his vocal description would have been thus severely censorious — 198 X< I) THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE " Land of ancient bloody tyrants, Sneaking traitors deep and sly ; Land of thieving * Heelan' teevils,' Kilted rogues and stolen kye. Land o' bribes and kirks and bastards. Saints and lasses awfu' frail. Drunkards, shebeens, godly deacons, Parritch, thistles, brose, and kail. Land o' canny, carefu' bodies — Foes to a' ungodly fun ; Those wha sum up man's whole duty — Heaven, hell, and number one. Land of droning psalms and sermons, Pauky wit and snuffy bores ; Fair fa'n chields so fond o' country That they leave it fast in scores." And when each had had his fling the tiue account would be found about midway between the two. But, oh ! John did hke to get a hair in Sandy's neck; and does so stilh Nothing delighted Dr. Johnson, the eminent lexicographer, more. He had the meanest opinion of the Scotch, it is well known, and never missed an opportunity of casting ridicule upon them. Thus, when compiling his famous Dictionary, he defined the woid oafs as " food for men in Scotland and for horses in iMigland."" The definition afibrded unmixed delight to the English mind, until, by and by, it was "cast in the teeth"" of a witty Scottish Loid, who retorted witli — " Yes ; and where will you find such men and such horses ? " 199 'is^ ■{■ H ll>.l Ul ?f ii :\ ■M \^\ \* 'I i I 1/ THISTLEDOWN Since then, the fun of it has not been quite so apparent. Ikit the Doctor ficnjucntly met his match, and got paid back in his own coin. Soon after his return from Scotland to London, a Scotch lady resident in the capital invited him to dinner, and in complinient to her distinguished guest ordered a dish of hotch-potch. ^Vhen the great man had tasted it, she asked him if it was good, to which he re})lied, with his usual gi-uff'ncss, "Very good for hogs, I believe ! " " Thf^n, pray," said the lady, " let me help you to a lilt ;e more ;"" and she did. Of course John Bull had never been lo([uacious to any ^ "oai vxtent on the subject of Bauuockburn; and Sandy, I suppose, remeinbering Flodden, has not reminded him too frecpiently of the incident. Occasions have arisen, however, when enlightenment was necessary. Thus, when, majiy years ago, a little company of Englishmen were ti'avelling by railway between Glasgow and Stirling, having an old Scotchman and his wife as fellow-ti'avellei"s, the weather being wet, they abused the Scottish climate, "the doocid weathaw, you know,""' and everything Scotch to their hearts' content. Latterly one of them asserted that "no Englishman could ever settle down in such a region.*" By this time the train wsis emerging from Larbert station, and — " Xae Englishman sattle doon in this region?^ echoed the old Scotsman, who htul hitherto not spoken. " Toots, man, ye're hai\ erin' nonsense. 200 \i W THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE i I \ne of ever ! the not ksense. I'll let ye see a pairt ulang the line-side a bit here, whaur a gey whcen o*" yer countrymen CiinT iii.iir than five hunder year syne, and they're no think in' o' leavin't yet, tho' they maun be gey weel sattlcd doon by this time." " Where is that?" asked several of the Englishmen at once. " Bannockburn ! " replied the Scot, and " silence deep as death " fell on the little company. A similar reminder was more delicately given when two English tourists a few years ago visited the scene of what has been aptly termed " the best day's work ever performed in Scotland." A local cart- wright pointed out with intelligence the positions of the contending armies ; the stone where Bruce's standard was fixed, and other features of interest; and the visitoi-s before leaving pressed their inform- ant's acceptance of a small money gratuity. "Na, na," replied the native with noticeable pride, "put up yer siller, I'll hae nane o't. It's cod ye encuch already.'''' S])eaking of Flodden, Sir Walter Scott was wont to tell a good story of a Scotch blacksmith whom he had formerly known as a horse doctor, and whom he found at a small country town South of the Boi(kr, piactising medicine atnong the juxtives, with a reck- k'ss use of " lowdomar and calomy," and who aj)ologised for the mischief he might do by the assurance that it " would be a lang time afore it made up for Flodden / " 201 t hv* ix \ ' VI n i/i / THISTLEDOWN V B ! .y^ ' ,s Nothing galls the national pride of the true-blue Scot more than the liberties that have been taken with that article of the Union which expressly declared that Britain should be the only recognised designation of the Ignited Kingdoms of Scotland and England. The Queen of England, the English Ambassador, the English army, the English fleet, and similar expressions still in common use, despite the courageous and persistent protests o'' the Rev. David Macrae, and others, are therefore terms par- ticularly offensive to a sensitive Scottish ear. A stiiking instance of this feeling occuired at the Battle of TrafaliTfir. Two Scotsmen, messmates and bosom cronies, from the same little chichan, happened to be stationed near each other when the now celebrated signal w:is given from the AdmiraPs ship — En^'land expects every man to do his duty. "No a word o"* puir Auld Scotland on this occasion," dok'fully remarked Geordie to Jock. Jock cocked his eye a moment, and tuining to his companion— " ]Man, Geordie," said he, " Scotlaud kens weel eneuch that nae bairn o' bers needs to be telFt to do his duty ~th(ifsju,st a hint to the Englisher.s.'''' A North coimtry drover once, returning home- wards, after a somewhat unsuccessful journey to the South, was, in consequence, not in very good hv.mour with the " Englishers." On reaching Carlisle he saw a notice stuck up offering a certain sum to any one who could do a piece of service to the 202 "{ li !» )lue ,keu !ssly lised and .lish fleet, ispite Rev. i par- ;. A ,t the L'S and )pened 2 now L's ship n this to his lis weel tt to do home- to the Iv.'.mour lisle he Isum to to the THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE comnmnity oy officiating as executioner of the law on a noted criminal then mider sentence of death. Sandy herein j)erceived an opportunity of making up ibr his bad market ; and comforted and encouraged that he was a perfect stranger in the town, he under- took the office, hanged the rogue, and got the fee. When moving off with the money, he was twitted with being a mean, beggarly Scot, doing for money what no Englishman would. " "Deed," replied Sandy, with a wicked leer in his eye, " I would hang ye a' at the same price." A Scotch family lately removed to London, wished to have a sheep''s head prepared as they \\ere accustomed to it at home, and sent a servant to the butcher's to procure one. She was a Scotch lassie, and on entering the shop — " My gude man," said she to the butcher, " 1 want a sheep's head." "Theie's plenty of them there," said he; "choose which you will." " Na," said she, " but there's nane o' thae that will do; I want a sheep's head that will sing " (singe). " Go, you idiot," said the butcher, " who ever heard of a sheep's head that could sing ? " " Why," replied the girl in wrath, "an' it's you it's the eedyit, I'm thinkin' ; for ony sheep's head in Scotland can sing ; but I jalouse yer I'higlisL sheep are just as grit fules jis their owner's, and they can do naething as they ocht." A Scotch gentleman, visiting some friends in Lng- o J^OJi h '>!' I i' 'i J". 1/ .> I ] s' / THISTLEDOWN land, displayed in convei"sation such contempt for the memory of Englaiur.s most illustrious sons that one of the family resolved to pay him off in his own coin. He therefore took down a steel engraving of John Knox, which adorned the dining-room wall, and hung it np in a lumber room. The Scotsman, missing the picture, asked what had become of it. " We no longer consider your Reformer worthy of a place here," said his friend, " therefore we have hung him up in a dark closet." " You could not have done better,"" said the Scots- man. " I consider the situation veiy appropriate ; for if ever a man could throw light on a dark subject, that was the man." Anoch'U' Scot being in England at the time the nightingales were in song, was invited by his host one evening to come and hear one singing. As the nightingale is never heard in Scotland it was con- sidered this would prove a rare treat to the Scotsman. After listening for a considerable time to the beauti- ful melody, and becoming somewhat impatient at hearing no expression of surprise or pleasm-e from his Scottish guest, the Englishman asked if he was not delighted. " Ifs a' very gude," replied the canny Scot, " but I wadna gie the zcheeple o' a whaup for a"* the nightingales that ever sang ! " Shortly after the accession of James I., when Scotch gentlemen were beginning to feel a little more at home than formerly in London, Lord Hare- wood gave a dinner party, to which there were 204 THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE tor a*" Iwhen llittle llare- were invited a large miiiilx.'r of c()urtiei*s and oflicers — both civil and niilitaiy. The feast was ended, and with the flow of wine the company prepared for a corresponding flow of wit and jollity. After the bottle had circulated a few times, and the spirits of the assembly had begun to rise, (k-neral S , an English trooper of fame, and a reckless bon vivanty arose and said, " Gentleman, when I am in my cups, and the generous wine begins to wai'ni my blood, I have an absurd custom of railing against the Scotch. Knowing my weakness, I hope no gentleman of the company will take it amiss." He sat down, and a Highland chief, Sir Robert Bleakie, of Blair Athol, presenting a front like an old battle-worn tower, quietly arose in his place, and with the utmost simplicity and good-nature remarked, " Gentlemen, I, when I am in my cups, and the generous wine begins to warm my blood, if I hear a man rail against the Scotch, have an absurd custom of kicking him at once out of the company. Know- ing my weakness, I hope no gentleman of the company will take it amiss." It need scarcely be added that General S did not on that occasion suffer himself to follow his usual custom. And despite the hea^•y odds against him there have yet been times when Sandy stood in high favour in high quartei-s in the English capital. Thus in the year 1797, when the Democratic notions ran high, the King's coach was attacked as His Majesty 205 » I; l« i • I ■^i; K; ? 't s '/ *( THISTLEDOWN il was going to the House of Peers. A gigantic riilx'niiau on that occasion was conspicuously loyjvl in repiHing the mob. Soon after, to his no small surprise, he received a messiige from Mr. Dundjus to attend at his ollice. He went, and met with a gracious rece[)tion fi'om the great man, who, after passing a few encomiums on his active loyalty, desired him to point out any way in which he would wish to l)e advanced, His Majesty having particularly noticed his courageous conduct, and being desirous to reward it. Pat scratched and scraped for a while, as if thunderstruck — "The devil take nie if I know what Fm fit for." " Nay, my good fellow," cried Henry, " think a moment, and do not throw yourself out of the way of fortune." Pat hesitated another moment, then smirking as if some odd idea had taken hold of his noddle, he said — " I tell yez what, mister, make a Scotchman of me, and, by St. Patrick, theie''ll be no fear of my getting on." The Minister gazed a while at the mal-apropos wit — " Make a Scotsman of you, sir, that is impossible, for I cannot give you prudence." Prudence is just what Paddy has always lacked, and what to all appearance he is never to learn. Had it been a special characteristic of John Bull, it would have saved him from many a coup he has received at the instance of his cautious and calcul- ating brother Sandy, the following among the rest. A stout English visitor to one of the fashionable 206 THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE watering-places on the West Coast sonic yeais ago was in the habit of conversing tiuniliarly with Donald Fnuser, a chaiacti r of the place, who took delight in talking lK>astfully of his great relations, who existed only, the stranger suspected, in the IIighlander''3 own lively inuigination. One ■ ^ ^ w i- m W WH - III ll>i | |i H T II i. I I, ii . iir i n iiii I i j i | i » ;--. IV .4ii >4^ ■■■fx » 4 ^M^^H V mijL * ■;* t 'r ■'jN*"") ( 1^ ^ma^ { \ • ( j^^^^^^^^^^^^^H ■^^^ ' ^^^^^^^^^^1 ■'-^: --■■'■ '■' V •i Tat ciituCii.i r.'.'r ' •!y ihoy -. ]\--t':uji\ '; >■■). '; -■■, ^91 1 t r THISTLEDOWN : * 1 % Iff ..wiloi •^•^l)I, . V'.l ..,t,.c-|< fij.' M.uutt-. o't ti>|,tly, ami tit: it UiJ ill a I'okc." '■ Na, nt :t, pt:-^ urf f.n.y tor g.-!itjy !iko yors.!" ".vh.'i lie t»ti :!;..!li4'i h.d.-,."' '« XT " V* {• ( ''•■ •• •• I'l i jii^L si' -.-p oil rjui.C^ ' 'f!i' '^iti> >i cMlr •n't\vi(ni vomP" ■ •" '' •' '■• ' '' ' "'. ''^ < ii"tui ilu' fUf. iK-.-ti, I{a;).sny l-Jj^ i,, uh.iisinjt^ ^f.*: v nf a Stirlin'i,- slinr !■.|•uuT^; % lyii: la n ^^„,, cH;4;i!.;,.iJ in b(;«inu,-s ii. Lm\ >..,,(,!. 'J i;<; ..0-, fhiiJMu;: tit; tiitnw rit,iiv.T ifr tmv ii. S'> <'f!l!-.',, (Ml,, rlax. pirKLimhyl l.ini to f!-<>.s^ it,,. ' '■'■* .••^- ''f Vt.r-,.../, ;u>i1 i|.'.f>C'«t rhf lutrws'iiv' ''■' I ••'•;.«*!. tl.( ( ijHt.hii-i; :.ije. (>'• )i'.ti,»- ■■ .1 . ''•''• ' ' ^ ••■■.• ^^^ ^hv ful](r.vin.^ li-.apc' '■ :--i- - ' {(')t;i(li: hie \ I.-M \ Rfui'n- vu .vMAv- nuaiiy -^'I rfaily f],urr l>nov'- \.!!.it" vn) .tiv x;v\in;-, sir.'* % "My girl," en(]|uired a Cockney tourist of a Scotch lassie whom he met tripping lightly barefoot, " is it the custom for girls to go barefooted in these parts ? " " Pairtly they do," she replied, " and pairtiy they mind their ain business." — Page Sil5. 3 ti * \* \ i»' mm "''■rr?E74y'— j:-77«Tr-Tr-:T'rz;.rT'r'"T^!''''rTgBPrn a .'.-'' iJl gMMJL'^^ :it!f^ '; ' ^fWf / w/ iy f- .-H:. ( V . him arri wen THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE lis — do ye no iiiulerstand giule plain English ? Are — yer — uits — nuickle — booki t ? " He might as well have asked the road to Stronach- lacher, Auchtennnchty, Ecclef'echaii, or Pont'eigh. The leaper decamped to her nearest companion declaring him a madman ; while the farmer shouted in great wrath, " They are naething else than a set o' ignorant pock-puddiir.s.'" " My girl," eni^uired a Cockney tourist of a Scotch lassie whom he met tripping lightly l).ii-ef(Kjt, " is it the custom for girls to go barefooted in these parts ?" "Pairtly they do," she replied, "and pairtly they mind their ain biLsiness."" The dour, plodding, persevering nature of the Scot, by virtue of which he has often prevailed over his less crafty English brother, is well exemplified in the following little narrative, which humorously describes the opening of a large mercantile business between the West of Scotland and the English capital : — A West countiy Scot, who had engaged in the manufacture of a certain description of goods, then recently introduced into that part of the country, found it necessary, or conjectured it nu'ght be profitable, to establish a permanent connection with some respectable house in I^ondon. With this design he packed up a quantity of goods, c({uipped himself for the journey, and departed. Upon his arrival he made diligent encjuiry as to those who were likely to prove his best customers, and accord- 215 / ;, fi 1 i / nJ< \ \ \\ \\\ 1 >' THISTLEDOWN in^ly proceeded to call n[)\hoin lie resolved to estahlish i\ r('^^ I l^^:l ^i ' ' u • THISTLEDOWN ; additional rci^ular sin)j)ly ; and thus laid ilu> found. i- tion of an opulent nu'iranlile liou.so tiiat li.is now ilom-islu'd fbr .srvoral <^i'M('ralions. 'ri>(> suhjoiiicd wi'll-known and divciling story may not inajjpi'opriatciy conolnde iliis chapter — 'ruK PifOKKssoii OK Si{;\s, oil 'I'wo AVays of Tki.i.inc; a S roll v. Kiui;' clanus I lie Sixth, on r(Mnovin»»n hv the Sj)anish ambassador, a man of tM'udilion, hnt who had an trccntric. idea in his luvid that {'viTV coimtry should liavo a Professor of Sii:;Ms to enahli* men of all languat:;es to understand each other without the aid of si)eech. The ambassador lami-ntint; one day, before iiie kin^, this irrcat desideratum throns^bout all Jvnope, the kiufi;, who was an outre character, said to him, "I have ji I'rofessor of Siurns in the most northern college in my diiaiinions, viz., at Abeideen ; but it is a i:;reat way oil' perhaps (jOO miles/'' "AVere it :10,()()() leagues off, I shall see him,'' said the ambassador, and expi'essed deti'iinination to set out instaiitfr, in order to have an intervie'v with the Scottish Professor of Si<;-ns. The king, ])erceiving he had committed himself, wrote, or caused to be written, an intimaticm to the l^niversitv of Aberdeen, statiny; the case, and desiring the pi'ofessors to put him off, or make the best of him they could. The and);issador arrived, and w;is received with great solemnity. 218 THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE lie iniiiu'diatc'ly iruiiiircd whidi of them luid the lionotir to he Professor of Signs, hut wus told tliat the professor was ahsent iji tlie Highlands, and would return nolxxly could sny when. "1 willj^h-siid he, "wait Ins retm-n tliougli it were for twelve months.*" The {)rofessors, seeing that this would not do, contrived the following sfratagern : — there was in the city one, (reordie, a butcher, blind of an eye — a droll fellow with nnich wit and roguery about him. The butcher was [)ut up to the story, and instructed liow to comport liimself in his new situation of " Professor of Signs," but he was enjoined on no account to utter a syllable, (ieordie willingly undertook the oflice for a small bribe. Tlie ambassador was then told, to liis infinite satisfaction, that the Professor of Signs would be at home next day. Ever^'thing being })repared, (xeordie wjis gowned, wigged, and placed in a chair of state, in a lOom in the college, all tlu; professors and the and)assador being in an adjoining room- The Spaniard wjis then shown into Geordie's room, and left to converse with him {is best he could, the whole of the professors waiting the issue with considerable anxiety. Then (commenced the scene. The ambassador held up one of his fingers to Geordie ; Geordie held U{) two of his. The am- hassador held up three; Geordie clenched his fist and looked stem. The ambassador then took an orange from his pocket, and showed it to the new- p 219 IM f: I h\ ■ I \ { ■' ' % i -^n 'U THISTLEDOWN •U' fangled professor; Geordie in return pulled out a piece of barley cake from his pocket, and exhibited it in a similar manner. The ambassador then bowed to him, and retired to the other professoi-s, who anxiously inquired his opinion of their brother. " He is a perfect miracle,"" said the ambassador, " I would not give him for the wealth of the Indies/ "Well,"' exclaimed one of the professore, "to descend to particulars, how has he edified you ? "" " ^Vhy," said the ambassador, " I first held up one finger, denoting that there is one God ; he held up two, signifying that there are the Father and Son. I held up three, meaning leather. Son, and Holy Ghost ; he clenched his fist to say that these three are one. I then took out an orange signifying the goodness of God, who gives His creatures not only necessaries, but the luxuries of life ; upon which the wonderful man presented a piece of bread, showing that it was the staff of life, and preferable to every luxury." The professors were glad chat matters had turned out so well ; and having got quit of the ambassador, they called in Geordie to hear his vei-sion of the affair. "Well, Geordie, how have you come on, and what do you think of yon man?" "The scoundrel," exclaimed the butcher, "what did he do first, think ye ? He held up a'e finger, as muckle as to say, you have only a''e ce ! Then I held up twa, meaning that my ane was as gude as 220 as THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE his twa. Then the fellow held up three o' his fingers, to say that there were but three cen between us ; and then I was so mad at the scoundrel that I sleeked my neive, and was gaun to gi'e him a whack on the side o' his head, and would hae done't too, but for your sakes. He didna stop here wi' his provocation ; but, forsooth, he took out an orange, as much as to say, your puir, beggarly, ciiuld country canna produce that ! I showed him a whang of a here bannock, meaning that I didna care a farthing for him nor his trash either as lang as I had this ! But, by a"* thafs gude," concluded Geordie, " Tm angry yet that I didna bieak every bane in his sun-singit, ill-shapen body." Two sides of a story could not be more opposed to each other, and nothing could better illustrate the burly innocent humour of the Scottish character. 221 f ,1 \ \ ' V • I' n* ! •ih THISTLEDOWN CHAPTER IX SCREEDS O TARTAN A (HA ITER OF HIGHLAND JIUMOI'R DIFFERING from the LowLuul Scotch in pei"sonul appearance, in language, in style of dress, and in other respects, the Ilighlandrr's humour also presents characteristics which are dis- tinctively local. Though often rich, for example, it is never boisterous, never sparkling — is rarely spontaneous — but is nearly always slow, sly, severe, and insinuative. For, slow in muscular action, Donald is slow in mental action also. He has to be stimulated or induced to physical activity ; and, naturally of a serious cjist of mind, his humour, in its richest ore, comes out nearly always as the result of provocation. Rut rouse his Highland blood by insult — and a word will do it sometimes — or awaken his drowsy wits by banter, then get out of the reach of both his arms and his tongue instanter, for his hand is heavy, his eye is sure, and his speech is a hurricane. ^luch of what passes for Highland humour, as everybody knows, arises from the difference \\hich exists between the Gaelic and the English and the Scottish idiom ; and from the efforts of the semi-educated or non-educated Gaelic- 222 SCREEDS O' TARTAN speuking Hij^hlander to express himself i» English, or in the colitMiuinl tongue of the Lowland Scot. The English language, "as she is spoke" by the Scottish mountaineer — felicitous examples of which we find in the liy-ht^'r writin<;s of John Donald (Warrick, the fii-st editor of "Whistle liinkie," in Sandy Roger's song of "Shon M'NalV in Alexander l''ishei-'s song, "'I'a Otlish in ta Moj'ninV' and "Ta Praise o' Ouskie," and in the old ballad of " Tui-numspikeman " - is feai-fully and wondeil'ully made. He transposes his tenses ; calls yesterday " to -mono w,"" and to-morrow "yesterday." He confuses his gendei's ; calls everything " she," except his wife and the cat, and these he calls "hims." He makes his nouns (jualify his adjectives, and places the cart before the horse in every second sentence. " Ze caii never learn zat tanm English langvidge," once exclaimed a French student in despair. " Ze spell von vord A-s-s, zen ze bronounce it noNKKV." Synonyms eipially vex the spirit of the Scottish Highlander. Thus Donald Roy M'V'ean, when interrogated in regaruch more than i was understand lie was pae for them and though am always used to was a onest man i was not have many monish to spare, and was vish to have as chape a prise as I could got. I Wfis tuk H, cargos jis wad full a smak about 20 tons twice as more every week to land on thui-sdae, and the monish wood be sented to you wunst every fridae by the agint of the bank a very daeent man and his wife too and hiis aulways pai his way and never was spoke an ill about any man as I was knew before, if you will rite your price to me the smallest you can took I will rite you a answer when the day after will come. " I was like to deal with a highlandman, and always did use to like very more aul the Campbeirs. my wifi'''s cuisin's faither's uncle wiis a Camj)bell — a very civil lad as was a fishing smak and wsus made a dale of monish and was lefe a legacie to my wife who will be glad to see you with myselfe and gave you a bed if you was kum and spoke the prise you wood tuke for the coles and save you the trubel of wrighting a letter to was to tell the prise of the coles. " If U cannot come ureself write to . 829 U ♦ 'I ' \ I ■■'- ■ W' 'i^ \ i .^' i . :■ • ' ,1. 4 h >i \ THISTLEDOWN " I wjus got my son liHchie wiis h {^oot liter to rite the naiiiL' of your .sliop in (llcsco. He wt)uld tuku a place it' you could get him wan," Not long ago H stiilwMrt west country Ilighlunder was describing to a company of Ix)wljuidei-s the wonderful power and facility in drawing possessed by his brother Donald, "Ilooch ay," he said, "he'll juisttak'a l)it cawk (clialk) the size o' her thoom's nose, and he'll draw a man thire, and a horse there, and you couldn't tell which wjus which." The company laughed. " Ay," contimied the speaker in a more impassioned vein, "and he wad tak"* a piece o' cawk, and he wad draw a horse; there and a cart there, and you couUbCt tell which was which. They wan J iii.st beautiful!'''' We haAC so far here been looking at Donald's humour on its least favoui-able side ; having been viewing it, so to speak, in the garb of the S;issenach only. Let us now glance at a few examples in full Highland costume. And here at once is an instance showing raie shrewdness and wit combined. A PIiglihu:d pi})er having a pupil placed in liis hands by his chief, and not knowing the notes of nnisic — the sejnibreves, minims, crotchets, and (juavers, etc. — by the proper designations, although he knew each one by head nuu'k, and its musical value very well, set to work in this way. " Here, Donald," said he, " took your pipes, my goot lad, and blow a blast." 230 fl Uv SCREEDS O' TARTAN Donald (li^ if 1 » O J li ( ■ Ij ;.( /(■■ Ml ■ THISTLEDOWN \i,' if yoiril thought tliat I was going to eat your grandmother yoifi'e very far mistaken,"' and I never says a word to him at all, but just comes away."" Highlanders make good soldiers, good policemen, and faithful watchmen and shepherds. Forgathering with one tending his sheep on the verdant slopes of a Northern mountain one day, a company of English tourists thought to have some entertainment at his expense, and bi'gan by remarking that he seemed to be enjoying himself. " ()u, ay,"' said the shepherd, " I'm shoost lookin"' aboot me here." "And what are you looking about you for.'*'" intjuired anothei*. " Oh, shoost because ifs a fine view from this side o' the hill." " Yes, but what can you see from here ? " "Well, if there wjis no mist ta day I would see ta town, and ta boats on ta loch, and many more things, whatever."" " I suppose yt)U can see a great distance from here on a clear day ? " remarked one. " Oh, yes, shentlemen, a great distance, indeed," said the shepherd. "I supjjose, on a clear day now, you can see London from this extreme altitude ? " exclaimed one of the Cockneys, quizzing the countryman, and nudging his companions. "Och, ay, and much further than that too," replied the shepherd, who had perceived the nudge. 234 th( \, »,, f m SCREEDS O' TARTAN " Farther than I^)rKloii ? "" gasped two of the somewhat alanm-d tounsts. "Ay, to he shurely, and furtliw than Amencii too,"" repHed the Highlander. " Farther than Anieriea?'" shonted all the Cock- neys together. " Inipossihle ! " " ItAs shoost true what I tell you whatever,"''' biaid Donald; "but if you'll won't iK-lieve me, shoost sit tloon there, and took out }v ir flasks and took a rii<^lilan(U-r is piond of liis nanio and clan, and tlicri.' nw .slorie.s that leveal to what, i-xtciiL "Did yoiTll know what day this is, Donald?''*' incjiiircd one ('ell, of another, on tlic nioiiniifr of a wrtiiin national o. <;asion whicJi will conic; out in tin: sequel. " H(M)ch, ay," replied Donald; "ifs just tii day after ta morn, J)u^ald."''' "Yes, Donald, lo he shurely,"" replied his friend. " IJut did you'll forj^ol, this w.is ta llie mail hcsituted. " Wluit did Ciunpbell say?" again dciiiaudcd the Earl. "■ He said — eh — eh,"'"' still hivsi eating — "he said \\v would see your Lordship- — - "'■' Tlie rest of the sentence was lost in a cough and the skirl of Ogilvie's pipes. '• It nuist be frankly admitted," says Dr. Norman Macleod, "■ that there is no man more easily offended, more thin-skinned, who cherishes longer the mentor}' of an insult, or keeps up with more freshness a personal, family, or pai'ty feud than the genuine Highlander. Woe to the man who offends his pride or vanity ! 'I may forgive, but I cannot forget,"' is a favourite saying. He will stand by a friend to the last ; but let a breach be once made, and it is M.iost diflicult ever again to repair it as it once was. The grudge is innnortul." Here is a case in proof: — A Highlander was visited on his death-bed by his clergyman, who exhorted Donald to prepare himself for another world by a sincere repentance of all the crimes he had committed on earth, and strongly urged the absolute necessity of forgiving his enemies. Donald shrugged up his shoulders at this hard request ; yet he at List agreed to forgive every person who had injui'ed him except one, who had long been the Highlander''s mortal foe, and of whom Donald hoped the parson, knowing all the circum- stances of the case, would make an exception. The 240 H SCREEDS O' TARTAN holy man, however, insisted so much on this point, thiit Donald at lust said — "Weel, weel, sir, siiiee there be no help for it, Donald will fbr{^ivu her; hut," lie added, turning to his two sons, "may (l d d — n you, Duncan and Rory, if yoiTll forgive her too!*" To be the means of causing a Highlander to enn'grate from one locality to another, either by piu'chiising the propeity on which he resides, or obtaining a le;ise without his concurrence, is a sin not to be foririven. A Ghisgow gentleman wished to feu tlie patch of ground on which the Bellmairs house stood at Kilmun, witli the stripe of garden attached to it, at which the Highland ire of the latter could scarcely be restrained. " Did you'll know?"" (jueried he at an ac(pmintance, "a fellow -shentleman lie is not ; no, nor his mother before hiai — from your Glasgow, is going to put me away from my wee placie, where I was for all my days, an' they'll call her Macsmall — eh ?" " No," replied the Glaswegian, " I don't." " I was thought so, nor no decent mans. Well, maybe ay, and maybe no. A stone will put up his house or a stone will put it down ; I'll never did a mischiefs to no bodie, and I'll not put my hand to a murder too. But, you see, there's many friends in the glen will take a friend's part — and they'll be taking walks up the hill, an' there's many bigger stones there nor a house itself, and they'll just be in the way, so they will ; a bit dunch with the foot 24,1 \ ■ )!l';. 4." '/, .; i H\ .',f I n < ' ^1 'I !-:/^»- THISTLEDOWN 1^ d' ' I' ^.'l ■^i i a I |fl I will make thcni come down witliout, any carts and wlurls, tluy'ic; heavy — viiy heavy — teet are tluy, and no easy to put a stop to wlicn rinniir, p(K»r dinnb crealiires; and they caiiiia help though they wei'e takini^ the house of this trou.ster moxiick (dirtv Kcoiindrel) with Ium'. I \\ad just like, (piietly between onrselfs, to see his house, six weeks after it was big^it, and the sclates on't. Ay would I."" Donald is dour and "thrawn as the wuddie,''"' and is conse(juently loath to eat his woids. Yet there liave been oceasions when he has made the amende honorable. A notable case of the kind (xicuiicd not many yeare a<^o on board one of the West Highland steaniei's. One of the deck poiters, whom we shall here call Duncan — ^^just because his name was Donald - was nuich annoyed by a " pernickity " and, to say the least of it, rather troublesome lady passenger, who, without on any occasion producing the expected "tip," kept Duncan shifting her baggage heie and there about the boat. Greatly irritated by these fre([uent interruptions, Duncan at length so far forgot himself as to tell her to " go to frericho," or some other place in that direction. The lady, greatly shocked and insulted, complained to the captain, antl insisted on an a[)ology, failing which, she would connuunicate with the owners of the steamer. The captain promised to see the matter righted, and forthwith 5;unnnoned Duncan to the state-room. " Durican," said he, "you have been charged with 242 \ ., 1*^* ' SCREEDS O' TARTAN pi-oss iiK-ivility to a liuly passonj^tT, who iluijitcns that, uiih'.ss yoti u[)<)l(u;isc', .she vill iii}()nii tiit* owners of thi.' Ixijit us soon lis she I'c iu lies (ilnst^ow. Now, you Imvo just until we Wiv.h (liiciiofk to do so. Off* you go uuil npolon-iso to liir ut once."" DuucHU bit liis lij) j)relly liurd, luit the thini; had to f)e done, so lie went U[)stiiifs and snoo\(; > /. / y >^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 73 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 14580 (716) 872-4503 *. "> m V 1? p f w h I ^ \Mi THISTLEDOWN Jis to the safety of their lives, and there was running lo and fro and many anxious inquiries concerning I he wssers chances of Meathering the storm. Not the least perturhed in spirit were the two farmers. " Oich ! Oich ! " said the one to the other, " it will be awful if anything happens, and we\e only got steerage tickets in oor pockets."" " Indeed, and it's very true what you say, Mr. M'Donald, and that's what troubles nie most of all,"" responded the other, looking, if j)()ssible, more doleful than his friend. "But Til tell you what wt'U do. We'll go abjift the bri»lge this monidit, and if the worst comes, which the gocxlness forbid, we'll fling awa' our tickets, and g(iu49 ^V % \ 1 ,5 . THISTLEDOWN / ii\" ill t Never jM'iluips whs tlicrc ii lu'iitcr conipHiiu'iit paid t<» fi'iiiiniiiL' lovi'liiu'ss than that ])ai(l l)v Hums to Miss Aiiislic ill HM iiiipnunptii rliyim-. During the p(H't\s IJtddtT tour hv went to cliuivli on Sunday, Hfconipanii'd by tla'sistfr ot'liis travj-llingcompaiiion. Mi-. IIoIh it Ainslic, of Biiivwi'll, Dunsr. 'J'lie text for till- day liappmcd to contain a severe denunciation of obstinate sinners, and tbe poet, o])serving the young lady intently ttu'ning over the lenvi-s ot her Bible in search of the passage, took out a small piece of j)aper, and wiote the following lines, which he inuiiedialely passed to her: — " Fair maid, you nct-d not take the liint. Nor idle texts pursue ; Twas guilty sinners tliat he meant. Not angels such as you." Keady-witted "graces before meat " were evolved by the poi-t on demand, time anil again. Having met some friends to dine with them at the (ilobe Tavern, DumlVii's, on one occasion, when a sheep''s lu'ad happened to be tlu* fare provided, he was asked to give something new as a grace, and instantly delivered the following, which has certainly little wit to reconnuend it : — *' O Lord, when hunger pinoiies sore. Do Thou stand us in stead. And send us from thy bounteous store A tup, or wether's head." After having dined, however, and greatly enjoyed the reptist, he was appi'aled to to return thanks, 5250 i * u* HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS and r her at the bald's fireside. He was ecpially kind, Allan Cuningham tells, to a crazy and tippling protligal named Quin. "fhunie,""' said the poet one day, as lie gave this character a penny, "you should pray to l)e tinned from the evil of your ways; you are ready now to melt that pemiy into whisky," "Turn!""' exclaimed Jamie, who wjis a wit in his way, " I wish some ane wad turn nie into the worm o* Will Ilyslop's whisky-still, that the drink micht dribble through me for ever.'''' " VVeel said, Jamie," res[)onded the poet; "you shall have a glass of whisky once; a week for that if you will come sober for it,''' A friend rallied Burns for indulging such creatures, " You don''t understand the matter," said he ; 2o3 \ ^1 I i I^\>^ 'nn THISTLEDOWN "fhcy lire jxK'ts ; tliry lm\j' tin* nuuliu'ss of tlic iiiii"'*', and fill they want is the inspiration — a miitl' hrilh'!" A j)roj)h«t lias iio lionoiu' in liis own conntry, nnd few of lliL' jM'aNuntiy |Misoimlly a((|uaintt'(l witli Hums wfiv willing tonilow that liis merit cxcfcdt'd tliiir oun. Mrs. M'^iiislan, the Ijonsfkcciicr at Diniloj) Ifonsi', where tlu' poit was a ficcjuent \isilor, saw nothing in his writings uiUing for special adniiiation, inid doubted the propriety of her mistress entertaining a m;re ploughman who made rhymes. As regarded "The Cottar''s Satui'di'.y Night,"" .slie declaicd to Mis. Dtmlop, with nuieh shaking of the head, tliat "Nae douht gentlemen and ladies think nnickle o' tliat, but, th me, it's naething but what I saw in my ain faither's house every day, and I dinna sie wjio he could hae tauld it ony other way." It was u s[)U'ndid com|)liment. Vet the auf hoi' ou'/e receive d perhaps a better- in liis own hearing, too one, at lea^t, which he appreciated more. A little lioy was asked which of the poet's works lie liked best. " I like ''J'he Cot t a I's Saturday Night "■ far best," be exclaimed, "'though it madi- me greet wlien mv father made me lead it to my nu^ther.*''' The poet, with a sudden start, looked into the boy's face intently, nnd, patting him on the clieek, said, the tear glistening in his eye the while, "Well, mv callant, it made me greet, too, moie tliaii once, when I was writing it at my father's fireside." Scott, when about se\enteen years of age, saw J254 H HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS iJunjs in K(liiil)iir<,'l>, and lias uflordcil tliu must tnitliliil and grn[)}iic acconiit (»f liis pccsonul a|)|Hnr- jiMci' ixtaiit. It wiLs at a liUraiy diriin r at Pioi'ixsor l''L'rgus.s()ii'.s tliat tiny im t. 'J'lic wnndioua lM)y c'liliglilt'iic'd tliu paity as to the uuthoisliip of the line — "The child or' misory hnpti/cd in lo.irs," by tcllitig till m if was Laiinlioi-nc's,* \vlu.'ivii|)(»ii IJiinis lonkid tow 'Is him and i'\i!ainii ;!, '* ^ On will Ix' a man y«'t. No pidphtcy rtccivi'd I'njlci' t'ulfilnunt ; f'o' it Sit Walt' i Si(»tt did nol ri^c to the lull statine of t ue manluMKl, no nn'iv man •■\ti did. Scoit ln'oniiht ploasniv v ith liim into tvcr^ •The company had l>ccn iidmir.i^^ a print of n;inl)iay'8, represrnling a s'''iititr lying dead on the snow -l/ii; dug siltirig in niistry on the one side on tin; rtlu r, liis widow with a ch'hl in her arms, 'li.csi; lim-s vtrc wrillt n nndfrncilii s — " Cold on Canadi;in hills or l\liru!iii s plain. Perhaps that p.ircnt wept her snUlirr slain % Bent o'er Iut balx-, her eye dissolved in i) w. The big drops niin.'Iing wi!h t!;<* milk lie drew, Gave ttic sad prcs.ipe of his fntiire years — • The child of misery l)apti:'.ed in tears." Bums was so mnch affochcd by the picture, or rather the ideta whidi il sngpested to I. is mind, that lu; actually shed 'ears. He aslvcd wlinse the lines weir, ;in(l il eliaiieid tli.it anio-ig all who were present, and the company iiK liiued the <•( lebrated Dngald Siewart, and other men of letters, young Sce't alone remembered that they o<'cur in a half- forgotten poem of Langhorne's, called by the unpromising title of "The Justice of tlie reucc. H' m 1 1 I I' In ' I ilill': It I' III ,t *■ H I \t ' 5 t1 THISTLEDOWN party he chose to enter. His rich, racy humour in telling stories and giving anecdotes, always on the spur of the moment, was dclightl'ul. He had an anecdote ready, a story to match, or "cap,"" as he used to call it, every one he heard, and with most perfect ease and hearty good humour. His first publisher, says one, Robert jMillar, gave anecdotes very pleasantly, and one day, after dinner, he was telling the company that he, or some friend, had been present at an Assize Court in Jedburgh, when a farm servant had sunnnoned his master for non- payment of wages, which he, the servant, had justly tbrfeited through some misconduct. After a great deal of cross-questioning — "Fin sure, n>y lord,"" said the pursuer, "Fm seeking nowt but what Fve rowt for ! " "Ay, my man,"" responded the judge, "but Fm thinking yell hae to rozct a wee langer afore yc get it, though ;" and nonsuited him. Scott, with the others, was well pleased with this dialogue, and, in his easy unaffected manner, said — "Well, something of a similar nature occurred when a friend of mine was present at the Justice Court at Jedburgh. Two fellows had been taken up for sheep-stealing ; there wjis a dense ciowd, and we were listening with breathless attention to the evidence, when, from what reason I have forgotten, there was a dead pause, during which the judge, observing a rosy-cheeked, chubby-faced country boy, who seemed to pay the utmost attention to 256 A HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS '^ m (4 I what was going on, and continued to fix his eyes on his Lordship's coinitenance, cried out to the callant — • ' AV'ell, my man, what do you »iy to the cause ! ' * Eh, gosh 1 ' answered the boy, ' but that's a glide aiio ! What div I say ? I whiles say, Put hup! and whiles I say Put ho! to the caws,' meaning, of course, the calves. But the business was quickly decided, for the whole Court, judge aiid jury, were thrown into such convulsions of laughter that nothing more could be said or done." " It is interesting to observe," says GilfiUan, " how not a few of the familiar names known to Scott in his youth or boyhood have been preserxed on his written pages and are now chiasical. Thus Meg Dods was the real name of a wt)man, or ' Luckie,' in Howgate, * who brewed good ale for gentlemen.' In the account of a Galloway trial, in which Scott was counsel, occurs the name " ]\Iac-GufIbg," after- wards that of the famous turnkey in Guy Maiinering. The name * Durward' may still be seen on the signs of Arbroath and Forfar, and Scott had doubtless met it there; as well iis that of 'Prudfute,' or *Proudfoot,' in or near Perth; ^Morton,"" in the lists of the Western AVhigs ; and * Gilfillan,' in the catalogue of the prisoners in Dunnottar Castle, Nothing, in fact, that ever flashed on the eye or vibrated on the ear of this extraordinary man but was in some form or other reproduced in his writings." In a remarkable sense here the child 257 \ h U W: « i '■H;. .■MJ^'I ( • f I ' - } THISTLEDOWN was father of the man. WTicn a lad at school, a lx)y in the same cltiss was asked by the dominie what part of speech "with" was. *' A noun, sir," answered the boy. *' You young blockhead," cried the pedagogue, "what exainj)Ie can you give of such a thing?" " I can tell you, sir," inteiTupted Scott. ** You know there's a verse in the Bible which says — *They bound Samson with w/M*/"'" Mis. Cockliuni, authoress of the popular version of " The Flowei-s of the Forest," the one beginning " Fve seen the smiling of fortune beguiling,'' has letl a ciu'ious account of an interview which she had with Scott, when a boy not (juite six yeai-s old. He was leading a poem to his mother when the lady entered, the subject of which was the description of a ship- wreck. His passion rose with the storm, and he lifted up his eyes and hands — "There's a mast gone," says he; "crash it goes; they will all perish !" After his agitation, he turned to Mrs. Cockbum, and said — " That is too melancholy. I had better read you something more amusing." Mrs. Cockburn preferred a little chat, and asked his opinion of Milton and other books which he had been reading, which he gave wonderfully. One of his observations was — "How strange that Adam, just new come into the world, should know every- thing. That must be the poet's fancy," said he. 258 HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS But when told he Mas created perfectly by (rod Himself, he instantly yielded. Wlun he was taken to bed the same eveninjj;, he told his aunt that he liked ]Mrs. Coekbmii, " for I tliink," said he, "she is a virtuoso like mysilf." " Dear Walter, what is a t;i/-^j/050?"" inciuired his aunt. "Don't you know?'' said he. "Why, it's one that will know evciything." He was slill a boy, when a lady friend remarked in co>nj)any on the almost peipetual driz/le which prevails in the West of Scotland, and declared her- self at a loss to account for it. Popping; his head up fiom below the table, " It is,'' &\id he, "only Nature weeping for the barren- ness of her soil." It was Sir Walter Scott who said that " his friends werna great book-readers, but they wfi'e niaistly a' gi'and hook-keepers'''' — a connnon accomplishinent of the friends at-.d accjuaintances of all men, alas ! Tom Pui'die, Sir Walter's favourite servant, a[)peared belore the Sheriff first as a poacher ; when Scott became so interested in his stoiy, which he told with a mixture of pathos, simplicity, and pawky humour, that he granted hiin foi-giveness, and ultimately engaged him as a soi-t of factotum at Abbotsford. Tom served him long and faithfully. Only "leeward whiles he took a bicker" towaids the dram. Scott is said to have proposed for Tom's epitaph the words — " Here lies one who might have 259 ' >; T * V tS i'^ 1 p t^n I ) 1 t i \t ,. t M i: ' f I I I. ili»i fc^' n t I u THISTLEDOWN been trusted with a purse of untold gold, but not with a barrel of unintvisurcd whisky." But more pungent than this even was his remark at the funeral ceremony of the eccentric Earl of Buchan. In accordance with the Christian mode of burial, the body should have been carried into the chapel, \\ here it was to be interred, feet first. Sir David Brewster was one of the mourners, and was the firet to observe that the head of the coffin was first in. He said — " We have brought the Earl's head in the wrong way." "Never mind," replied Scott. "His Lordship's head wjis turned when he was alive, and it is not worth our while to shift it now." Long before the secret of the Waverley novels had been blown about, the Ettrick Shepherd divined it, and as the novels aj)peared he had them re-bound and lettered " Scotfs Novels." While visiting Hogg at Altrive, the author ventured to remark in a dty, humorous tone, " Jamie, your bookseller must be a stupid fellow, to spell Scotfs with two fsJ" Hogg replied, " Ah, Watty, I am ower auld a cat to draw that strae before." Mrs. John Ballantyne tells a story of Scott and Hogg not to be found in Lockhart. At her dinner table in Hanover Street, she says, the Shepherd was present, and was amusing the company very nuich by his attempts to dissect " twa teugh auld chuckies," and was making the legs and wings and gravy fly in every direction, to the annoy- 260 /' I \ ti if .( "; it not more ,t the uchan. lal, the , where lewster abserve said — wrong rdship's D is not vels had ,inod it, •e-bound Jg Hogg n a diy, it be a Hogg to draw :ott and jshe says, 5ing the ict " twa legs aiid le annoy- HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS ance of every one in his neighbourhood. Suddenly he stopped, dipped a napkin in +he finger-glass, and began to mop his face, which was " a' jappit wi' the juice.*" Scott saw his friend's dilemma, and out of the goodness of his heart determined to create a diver- sion in his favour. Addressing Mrs, Ballantyne, he asked this question — " Mi's. John, once on a time all the lettei*s of the alphabet weie invited out to their dinner — they all came but U. Why did not U come 't " On giving it up, Scott said, " Why, then, the reason why U did not come to dinner is veiy clear — because U ne\ er comes till after (T)." Sometimes a very trifling joke or anecdote adds to the gaiety of a company. It w as so in this case, the story passed round, but Hogg cou'd not undei-stand it, and he asked what they were all laughing at. " It's about U (you)," cried Mrs. Ballantyne, and this made Hogg quite indignant. He rose and brandished his knife, and intjuirtd in a blood-thii-sty sort of way what they could possibly see about him to speak and laugh about. This made the joke tell all the better, whei> it was explained to him. Carlyle recites with a])probation a saying of somebody to the effect that no man has written so many volumes as Scott having so few sentences that can be quoted, and Gilfillan, replying to the charge, says he is prepared to prove that in no other novelist — not even Cervantes, or Bulwer, or Goodwin — is there to be found a greater number 261 ^i'\U ■!<. f w THISTLEDOWN r r :'i ii' \pi I .( I h L of separate and (|U()table iK'nutiea tluui in Scott. Ciilfilljur.s offer is not extnivjigunt. Rogurdinf^ the luniiorous .side of the Wuverley novels alone, whicli is all that concerns lis here, one has only to think of Caleb Baldei-ston, of Kdie Ochiltree, of Ciiddie Ileadrigg, of Andri'W Fairservice ; has but to utter aloud to hinisilf the familiar " IMa conscience !"''' of Bailie Nicol Jarvie ; the " Prodigious ! " of Dominic Samson; the "Jeanie, woman!"" of the liJiird of l)und)iee. I was about to make a tour through the Western IlighlaTuls with part of my family. I wrote to the innkeeper of a ccii.iin hostehy, where I meant to halt a day or two, to have rooms prepared for me. On the day appointed it rained, as it does to-day, ceaselessly. As \\c drew near our (piarters, we weie met on the hill over liis house by our IJoniface, with bared head, and backing every yai'd as I advanced, who thus addressed me : — " ' Guid guide us, Sir Walter ! This is just awfu' ! Siccan a downpour! Wjis ever the like? I rciiUy beg your pardon ! Fm sure it's nae faut o"" mine ; I canna think how it should happen to rain this way, just as you, o' a' men in the warld, should come to see us ! It looks amaist personal ! I can only say for my part, Iin just ashamed o' the weather ! ' " And so, Sire, I do not know that I can improve upon the language of the honest innkeeper ; I cannot think how it should rain this way, just as your Majesty, of all men in the world, should have condescended to come and see us. I can only say in the name of my countiymen, I'm just ashamed o"" the weather ! "" 263 't ;.n , ;| J V. HOii. ^ \' Srfi S' 1 i , :i i t f \ > 1 1^-: V ' r THISTLEDOWN (1 ' ■ .i;l' '.If I. ,f ' Sir Walter welcomed his Majesty not only in person, l)ut also in song, by wriiing a long ballad in two parts, to the old tune of "Carle, and the King Come."" Simultaneously with this loyal piece there, however, appeared in the London Eaaminer a satiiieal ediision, entitled, "Sawney, now the King's Come," which caused some stii", and greatly annoyed the sensitive loyalty of the author of Waverleij. The writer was Alexander Rodger, of Glasgow, the well-known author of " llohin T-unsoiTs Smiddy,"" "Behave yerseP before Folic,"" and other popular humorous songs ; and the ultra-radical opinions for which he had already languished in " Ihidcwell,"" it cannot be denied, rendeied the humour of this counterblast rather too broad for general circulation. Its cu'verness, however, was undoubted. A poet of admilted (piality, Rodger had a rich and ready humour which helped him through many a diiliculty. Whilst for the trefisonable character of his contribu- tions to the Spirit of the Union he lay in a Glasgow prison, where he was used with reprehensible harsh- ness, he solaced himself in his solitude by singing, at the top of his lungs, his own political song composi- tions, some of which were so spiced with humorous satire that they could not be very grateful to the cars of his jailoi-s. Once, when his house was searched for seditious publications (terrible bugbears at that time to the local authorities of Glasgow), Sardy handed the Family Bible to the SherifTs officer, with the 264 HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS remark that that vus the only treasonable book in his possession ; and for proof he n ftrred the aghast official to the chaj)ter on Kings, in the lii'.st Hook of Samuel. Rodger's contribulions to Whistle- liinkie form perhaps the most delightsome items of that pereiuiial collection of Scottish lyrics, none of them being a \vliit less felicitous than his lyrical address to Peter M'Kay — "Ane sober advice to ane drucken souter in Perth""— of which the following forms the first vei-se : — " O, Peter M'Kay ! O, Peter M'Kay ! Gin yc"d do like the brutes, only drink when ye're dry. Ye might gatiior cash yet, grow gaucy and gash yet. And carry your noddle Pt-rth-Provost pow-high ; But poor, drucken deevii, ye're wed to the evil Sae closely, that nattlhing can sevu\y praise a ftiluiri rrvfrciu! Docfoi's i'}«'s, is, liowrvcr, not so \mH known ua iL (Usiivts — *' I fniiiiol priiisc llic Dcwior's eyes, 1 IK v«T s.'iw his gl.iiuc divine ; He Hlwaj s sliiils tlnin wlu-ii lie prays. Ami when he preaches ho shuts iiiiiie," and ilic uhiinsicnl luinioiircontaini'd in tlu' .subjoined littio skiteh will vsarnint its (piotation : — *' My Iwa swine on tlie niidihM], Wi' very fat tlitir ecn are hidden ; Tlieir Wiiines are .sw«'ird beyond ditneiisiun. Their shapes ! ye hae nae comprehension. Sie a siiht ! their tails are einly. Their iioiiglis sue round, lluir necks sae burly ; In tlie warld thi r< 's nacthinj? bi{,'f;er Than the tane — except the tither." The next jji'oniinent aniontj Scottish poet-hmn- ourists that oeeurs here is Professor Wilson, \\ hosi- claim is made perfect by the nnicjue and incompar- able " Nodes Anibrosiana-," originally contributed to Blackxi'ooirs Maga:une under the pi'ii name of "Christopher Nt)rth." Ileie there is hinnoui- to the knees, hmnour to the loins, humour to swim in — a great river! But we dare not enter, even though the temptation is strong. One .solitary example of WilsonVs genial humoui-, gleaned outside of the " Noctes," must .sene here. It involves the name of another poet-humourist of almost equal renown — namely, Professor Aytoun, author of the celebrated Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers and joint-author with 266 ^ .: ^' K I 1 V n luuiu' of iiour io tlio ijwiin in— ;<• ven tboujfh ry cNuniple si(li> of the ho name of i\ renown— r. celebrated author with HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS Sir Theiklore Martin of the lion Ciiitltkr liallads. Avtoun, as evei'^iMMly knows, married Wilson's (laughter, Miss Kinily Jane. Wlien, after the nsnal pi'i'Hniinariis, he made i\ proposal of marriage t• nialter of com'se, n feri'ed liini lo lier father. Aytonn was inieonnnonly dillident, and said, "Kmily, my dear, you nnist spiak for me. I could not sunnnon coinage to .speak to the Pro- fessor on the suhjeet/'' " Papa is in the liijrary,"" remai ked the lady. "Tlun you had Ix'tter go to him," said the suitor, "and I will wait heie for you."" There being ap[)aii'ntly no help for it, the lady proceeded to the lihrary, and, taking lur fat lier atlee- tionately ])y the Imnd, nientioiied that Aytoun had asked her in marriage, and added, "Shall I accept his offer, papa; lie is so shy and dillident that he camiot speak to you himsell'r'"' "Then we nnist deal tendirly with him," said the hearty old man; and writing his reply on a slip of paj)er, he pinned it on her l)ack. " Pajja's answer is on the back of my dress," said Miss Wilson, as she re-entered the drawing-roonj. Turning her round, the delighted swain perceived these woi'ds — " With the authoi's compliments." Susanna, Countess of Eglinton, Allan Ramsay's patroness, to whom he dedicated his immortal "Gentle Shepherd," once sent him a basket of fine fruit. No poet of the hist centuiy could let such a circumstance pass unsung; accordingly, honest Allan s 267 I I i'W A THISTLEDOWiN composrd tlio followiii}^ amipliiucutiiry I'pi^iHin, wliieli liL' st'iit wihh liis noli' of jH'kiu»vvU'(;ti()ii witli the Ilou (iunU'ur Jitilltula. i\s tvtry- Ixxly knows, "'I'ho Mjissjutc of Ww Pliiiii-shoii,"" •' Willi foiir-nnd-twcnty mm And fivc-iiiid-tliirty pipers," is fVoiu Aytouirs prn. Tri tin- Memoirs of tlio ])ot>t, written hy his friend and collalMirutor, Sir TliecMloro Martin, thii-e is tin's oiiMtul stoiy of tlie billml. " Hein<^ Hsked to get. np an inipioniplu anuisement at a frii'tid's honse in iHl-i, for some lln^lish visitoi"s, who Wi-ro t'nthii.sia.stic alM)nt. tlie Iliffhlanders and the Higiilands, he fisliest hidicrous effect, and not being eked out with the usual * sporran' left him nuich in the condition of the 'Culty Saik"" of Hurns's poem. With hair like Katterfelto's, on end in wild disorder, Aytoun was ushered into the drawing-room. He bore himself with more th.ii! Celtic dignity, and saluted the Southrons with stately courtesy, being introduced to them as the famous I^uiid of Macnab. The ladies were delighted with the Chieftain, who related many highly exciting traits of Highland manners. Among other things, when his neigh- 269 H' I I V.', ■'i' \ .. ) ■ \i mmm ill mi f I 1 1 1 (1 i. ■ 1 < i: .^1 ) fh i'; t p i THISTLEDOWN hours, as he told them, made a foray, which thoy often did, upon his cattle, he thought nothing of * sticking a tirk into their powels,"' when the ladies exclaimed, in horror, * O, laird, you don't say so ! ' " ' Say so ! * he replied, ' on my saul, laties, and to pe surely, I to it.' " At supper he v fis asked to sing a song. ' I am fery soi'ry, laties,' he replied, * that I have no voice ; but I w ill speak to you a translation of a fcry ancient Gaelic poem,' and proceeded to chant *The Massacre of ta Phaii-shon,' which came upon all present as if it were the invention of the moment, and was greeted with roars of laughtei". The joke was carried on luitil the party broke up, and the strangers wcie not undeceived for some days as to the true character of the great Celtic chief." Adam Skirving, author of the popular song of "Johnnie Cope," and the equally facetious and feli- citous ballad of " Tranent Muir," was a wealthy farmer near Haddington, and a man of athletic body as well as of strong mind. Among the various pei-sons referred to in " Tranent Muir " was a certain Lieutenant Smith, an Irishman, who displayed much cowardice in the battle. Says the poet : — " And Major Bowie, that worthy sowl. Was brought down to the ground, man i His horse being shot, it was his lot. For to get many a wound, man ; 270 HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS " Ilk thc>y thing 1 the don't 1 1, an( 'I am voice ; mcient assacre it as if Tfeetetl riecl on ere not icter of jong of I feli- ealthy athletic ng the Muir" ishnian, Says Lieutenant Smith, cf Irish birth, Fr.ie wlioin lia called for aid, man, Being full of dread, lap owre his head. And wadna be gainsaid, man. ** He made sic haste, sae spurred his beast, 'Twas little there he saw, man ; To Berwick rade, and safely said. The Scots were rebels a', man ; But let tliat end -for wcel 'lis kenn'd His use and wont to Ic, man. The league is nought, he never fought When he had room to flee, man." Immediately on the satire and its souice of emana- tion being connuunicatod to the heroic (?) Lieutenant Smith, he despatched a junior olHeer to Skirving, with a challenge to the poet to meet him in single combat. The bard's reply was of a piece with his attack — " Gang back,"" said he, "and tell Lieutenant Smilh that I hae nae leisure to come to Haddington; but tell him to come here, and I'll tak'a look o' him, and if I think Fm fit to fecht, Til fecht him ; and if no, I'll do ixs he did — 77/ rin azca.^'' Hard and stinging things have been uttered against poets, but the hardest and sharpest have been tliose hurled by one poet against another. As instance, the "Flyting"" of Dunbar and Kennedy, the less remote encounter between Tennyson an;i tmrn THISTLEDOWN III ii I dinna mean to note the whole O' your confounded rigmarole, I'd rather haud my tongue, and thole Your clishmaclavers, Than try to plod through sic a scrole O' senseless havers. O* warlocks and o' witches a', O' spunkies, kelpies, great or staa,', There isna ony truth ava In what you say. For siccan friclits I never saw. Up to this day. The truth is, Rab, that wicked men, When caught in crimes that are their ain, To find a help, are unco fain. To share the shame. And so they shout, wi' mieht and main. The deil's to blame. Thus, I am blamed for Adam's fa'. You say that I maist ruined a' ; I'll tell ye a'e thing, that's no twa. It's just a lee ; ,. I fasht na wi' the pair ava. But loot them be. I'd nae mair haun' in that transgression. You deem the source o' a' oppression. And wae, and death, and man's damnation. Than you, yersel' ; I filled a decent situation When Adam fell. 278 HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS And, Rab, gin yc'U j„.st read your Bible, Instead o' blin' Jock Milton's fable, I'll plajik a croon on ony table Against a groat. To fin' my name you'll no' be able In a' the plot. Your mither. Eve, I kent her brawly ; A dainty queen slie was, and wally. But destitute o' prudence wholly. The witless hizzie. Aye bent on i\m, and whiles on folly. And mischief busy. Her Father had a bonnie tree. The apples on't allured her e'e; He warned her no' the fruit to pree. Nor dim' the wa'. For if she did, she'd surely dee. And leave it a'. As for that famous serpent story. To lee I'd l,aith be shamed and sorry. It's just a clever alle i:' ' 1 t IS Mi f- 1 r >* r )■' THISTLEDOWN Aukl Job, I kent the carl riirht weel; An Iioiiest, decent, kintra cliiel' Wi' head to plan, and heart to feel. And haun' to gie - He wadna wran^^'d the verra Deil A broon bawbee. The mnn was gay and wcel to do. Had horse, and kye, and oiist-n, too. And sheep, and stots, and stirks enow To fill a byre ; O' meat and claes, a' maistly new. His heart's desire. Forby he had within his dwellings Three winsome queans and five braw callans Ye wadna, in the liail braid Lallans, Hae fand their marrow. Were ye to search frae auld Tantallans To Braes o' Yarrow. It happened that three breekless bands O' oaterans came frae distant lands. And took what fell amang their hands, ()' sheep and duddies. .lust like your reivin' Hielan' clans. Or Border bodies. I tell thee, Rab, I had nae share In a' the tulzie, here or there, I lookit on, I do declare, A mere spectator. Nor said, nor acted, less or mair, Aboot the matter. 280 & » I ■' '^ '^ HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS Job hrtd a minstrel o' his ain, A ^rnius rare, and somewhat vain Of rhyme and lear, but then again. Just like yersel', O' drink and lasses uneo fain, The ne'er-do-weel. He'd sing o' lads and lasses fair, O' love, and hope, and mirk despair, And wond'rous tales wad whiles prepare, And string together. For a' he wanted was a hair To niak' a tether. So with intention fully bent. My doings to misrepresent. That Book o' Job he dio invent. And then his rhymes Got published, in Arabic prent. To suit the times. You poets, Rab, are a' the same, (>' ilka kintra, age, and name, Nae mil Iter what may be your aim. Or your intentions, Maist a* your characters of fame. Are pure inventions. Your dogs are baith debaters, rare, Wi' sense, galore, and some to sj)are. While e'en the verra Brigs o' Ayr, Ye gar them quarrel — Tak' Coila ben to deck your hair Wi' Scottish laurel. 281 f 4 I' :\ 1 I ! 'i 1 / ^ : \ .'> •> ! \i* if r i<' 'f ^ I > I , ( :'t THISTLEDOWN Yet, Robin, lad, for a* your spite. And taiMits, and jeers, und wrangfu' wytc, I find, before you end y<»ur flyte, And wind yer pirn, Ye're nae sjie cankered in tlie bite As in the gini. For when you think I'm doomed to dwell, The lang for-ever-mair in hell. Ye come and bid a kind farewell — And, guid be here. E'en for the very Deil lunisel'. Let fa' a tear. And, Rab, I'm just as wae for thee. As ever thou ean'st be for me. For less ye let the drink abee, I'll tak' my aith, Ye'll a' gang wrang, and, maybe, dee A drunkard's death. Sure as ye mourned the daisy's fate, Tiiat fate is thine, na(; distant date. Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives elate. Full on thy bloom. And crushed beneath the furrow's weight May be thy doom. Much more might bo written under this heading, for of the humours of living and recent poets I luive scarcely dared to speak. Yea, of the humours of those about whom one may write with perfect free- dom, the half has not been told ; and to the bookish 282 ]i* HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS rcjidt'i', I fi'C'l, th(! flmptri' \\'\\\ l)o iiiU'icstiiig as much for \vliiit it .sii;^;^i'sts iis for wljjit il. i-otituius. As a last itrm, tlio follow in^ luimoroiis "dij^'^ at tho li^id and narrow iSuhhatariaiiisin of tlii- early Dissnilds, wliirli lias had a woikIitIuI vitality — liviiiiT as it has done for i£iiu;i'ations, more in tl IR' nuinory of what \\c may call tho " loiij^-htiuU'd " oidor of the coiiimunity than in printrd hooks- will he enjoyed. Its authorship — presumably a secret from the first — is still unknown; and it has no history or interesting paiticular other than is ex- pressed by itself, further than this, that it is (H-ca- sionally sung to a standard Psalm tune, under the old i'ashion of "reading the line," and, when so ren- dered, sounds inexpressibly droll : — Mj * I THE CAMERONIANS CAT. There was an auld Seceder's cjit Gjied hunting for a prey, And ben tlie lioiise she catch'd a mouse Upon the Sabbath day. The Whig, he being ofTended At such an act profane, Laid by the Honk, the cat he took, And bound iier in a chain. " Thou damned, thou cursed creature. This deed so dark with tiice, Think'st thou to bring to hell beiow My holy wife and me ? T 283 ^- '■^■nr ( >. .1 5 I '■i i t^ Ir I 'l/, ^, '^ THISTLEDOWN " Assure thyself that for the deed Thou blood for blood shall pay For killinj^ of the Lord's own mouse Upon the Sabbath day." The presbyter laid by the Book, And earnestly he pray'd That the great sin the cat had done Might not on him be laid. And straight to execution Poor pussy she was drawn. And high hang'd up upon a tree — The preacher sang a psalm. And when the work was ended. They thought the cat was dead. She gave a purr, and tlien a meow. And stretched out her head. "Thy name," said he, "shall certainly A beacon still remain, A terror unto evil doers For evermore. Amen." ■/ ^f 'r M 984 \ 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR CHAPTER XI ■» TWKKN BENCH AND BAR A CHAPTER OF LEGAL FACETI.E THE Scottish Law Courts have been long and justly celebrated as an arena of wit and humour of the richest sort. But the facetious counsel and the witty and eccentric judge, like the humorous and quaint divine, no longer prevail; and the current collector of the native legal facetiae who would presenx brilliant specimens and illustrations must riddle the records of past generations to find them, or else adopt the simpler method, which has been most frequently followed, of riddling the riddlings of those who have successfully riddled the records before them. Despising neither of the courses indicated, I shall partially here pursue both ; and, first of all, will turn to the Memorials of the late Lord Henry Cockbum, the most extraordinary passages of which perhaps are the Mriter''s memories of the hiw lords. Of Lords Braxfield, Eskgrove, F: lo'^ Hermand, and Meadowbank, and others, luost ox w}iom he knew personally, Cockbum tells '.ome **unco'" stories. And, surely, if we may express regret that the w't »"'d humour of some of those are not inherited b)' ttie present occupiers of the judicial bench, we may be very thankful that 285 i (' ( !J4. •>/ THISTLEDOWN the brutal severity which was practised by the fii-st nanicd is no longer possible. Braxfielcrs maxim seems to have been, " Hang a thief when he"'s young and he'll no steal when he''s aukl."" It may be doubted, says Cockburn, if he Wiia ever so nuich in his element as when taunting,"" and perhaps he got it. "Let them bring me prisoners and Til find them law," used to be openly stated as his suggestion when an intended political prosecution was marred by anticipated difficulties. And Mr. Horner, the father of Francis, who was one of the junioi-s in one Mair's case, told that when he was passing the bench to get into the box, Braxfield, who knew him, whispered, "Come awa', Mr. Horner, come awa\ and help us to hang ane o"* thae danmed scoondrels." In another political case it was pled in defcn o I'npit " Christianity was an innovation, and that .^11 ij!;rc t men had been reformers, even our Saviou. ii <:v t^^f." "Muckle He made o' that," chuckled Braxhc !j in an under voice, " He was hangit." E: kgrove succeeded Braxfield as the head of the Criminal Court, and a more li'dicrous pers.)nage sui'ely never existed. " His face," says Cockburn, 286 1 i{ 5 niaiTot iiiiors in 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR "varied according to circunistances, from a scurfy red to a scurfy blue ; the ntv-e was pi-odi^ious ; the underlip enormous, and supported by a huge, chmisy chin, which moved hke the jaw of an exaggerated Dutch toy."" When ad(hessing a juiy, if a name could be pronounced in nioie ways than one he gave them all. Syllable he invariably called syWtx-bill, and wherever a word ended with the letter "g." the letter was pronounced, and strongly so. And he was very fond of meaningless successions of adjectives. The article "a" was generally made into one ; and a good man he would describe as " one excellent, and worthy, and amiabill, and agrceabill, and veiy good man." Condenming a tailor to death for nnuxlering a soldier by stabbing him, he addressed him thus : — "And not only did you murder him, whereby he was bereaved of his life, but you did thrust, or push, or pierce, or project, or pro[)ell the le-thal wi'apon through the belly-band of his regimen-tal breeches, which \\ ei'c his Ma-jes-ty's ! " In the tiial of Glengany, for the mui-der of Sir Alexander Boswell in a duel, a lady of great beauty was called as a witness. She came into court veiled. But before administei-ing the oath, Eskgrove gave her this exposition of her duty in the situiition: *' Young woman, you will now consider youi'self as in the presence of Ahnighty God, and of this High Coui't. liif't up your veil ; throw off all modesty, and look me in the face." Having to condemn two oi* three pei-sons to death who 287 ' \t , 1 y \ v.\ t*) iiv''^, »ll :?.' ■>.'■ 4 /' i^ :. I ii III ^ •fA A:, 1 f. •1 I % 't THISTLEDOWN had broken into a house at Luss, and assaulted Sir James Col(|uhoun and others, and robbed them of a large sum of money, he first, as was his ahnost constant practice, explained the nature of the various crimes — assault, robbery, and hamesucken — of which last he gave them the etymology. He then reminded them that they had attacked the house and the persons within it, and robbed them, and then came to this climax — "All this you did ; and God prcseinfe us! joost when they were setten doon to their denner!" A common arrangement of his logic, when address- ing juries, was — "And so, gentlemen, having shown you that the panelPs argument is utterly impossibill, I shall now proceed to shew you that it is extremely improbabill." Brougham delighted to torment him. Retaliating, Eskgrove sneered at Broughanrs eloquence by calling it, or him, the Harangue. In his summing up he would say — "Well, gentlemen, and what did the Harangue say next ? Why, it said this ."" Candidly, however, he had to declare that "that man Broom, or Broug-ham, was the torment of his life."" Loid Eskgrove, of course, was an unconscious humourist. So also in groat measure was Lord Hermand. When Guy Manncy'ing wjis first published, Hermand wjis so nuich delighted with the picture of the old Scottish lawyers in the novel that he could talk of nothing else but Pleydell and Dandie Dinmont and Hi ;h Ji.iks for many weeks. He usually carried a volume of the work about Mrith hiin ; and one 888 \ saulted d them almost various if which nninded ind the tin came prcsei've ennerl address- ig shown possibill, xtremely taliating, )y calling ig up he did the lis . t "that it of his onscious as Lord iiblished, icture of he could iDinmont y carried and one 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR morning on the bench his love for it so completely got the better of him that he lugged in the subject — head and shoulders -into the midst of a speech about a diy point of law. Getting warmer every moment he spoke of it, he at List plucked the volume from his pocket, and, in spite of the remonstiances of his brethren, insisted upon reading aloud the whole passage for their edification. He went through the task with his wonted vivacity, gave great effect to e\ery speech and most appropriate expression to eveiy joke ; and, when it was done, the court had no difficulty in confessing that they had very seldom been so well entertained. During the whole scene, Mr. Walter Scott himself was present, in his official capacity as Clerk of the Court of Session, and was seated close under the Judge. Before Herinand was elevated to the bench, and was known among men as Mr. George Fergusson, his addresses were delivered with such animation and intense earnestness that when it was known he was to speak the court was sure to be filled. His eagerness made him froth and splutter, and there is a story to the effect that, when he was pleading in the House of Lords, the Duke of Gloucester, ^\'ho was about fifty feet from the bar, and always attended when " Mr. George Fergusson, the Scotch counsel,*" was to speak, rose and said, with pretended gravity, " I shall be much obliged to the learned gentleman if he will be so good as to refrain from spitting in my face."" 289 * i^ ^ '*' 'ii \^\m I , *. 4 !i t/y- i| .' ^!i •' 1 THISTLEDOWN Hcniiand whs very intimate at one time with Sir John Scott, afterwards Lord Kldon. They were counsel together, says Cock burn, in Eldon's fii-st important Scotch entail case in the House of Lordso Eldon was so much alarmed that, he wrote his intended speech, and begged Hennand to dine with him at a tavern, where he read the paper and asked him if it w ould do. " Do, sir ? It is delightful, absolutely delightful ! I could listen to it for ever! It is so beautifully written and so beautifully read ! But, sir, it is the gi'eatcst nonsense ! It may do vei y well for an English Chancellor ; but it would disgrace a clerk with us." Bacon's advice to judges is to *'draw your law out of your books, not out of yoiu* brains."" Hermand generally did neither. He occjiaionally showed gieat contempt for statute law, and would exclaim, " A statute ! \\liat''s a statute ? Words — mere words ! And am / to be tied down by words ? No, my Laards, I go by the law of riffht reason, my Laards. I feel my law — here, my Laai-ds "" — striking his heart. Drinking, in this old fellow's estimation, was a virtue rather than a vice; ar.d when speaking to a case where one Glasgow man was charged with stabbing another to the death in the course of a night's carousal, *' They had been carousing the whole night,*" exclaimed Hermand, *'and yet he stabbed him ! After drinking a whole bottle of 290 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR rum with him ! Good Gorl, my Laards, if he mil do this when he^s drunk, what will he not do when he's sober ? " William Maconochie (Lord Meadowbank), was an able but cuiious man. Before he spoke, Cockbimi says, it would often have been a fair wager whether what he said would be reasonable or extraAagant. All that Wiis certain was, that even his exti-avngance would be vigorous and oi-iginal, and he had more pleasure in inventing ingenious reasons for being wrong than in being quietly right. Sir liany Moncrieff, who was present at his man'iage, told that the knot was tied about seven in tlie e\ening, and that at a later hour the bridegroom disappeared, and on being sought for, wiis found absorbed in the composition of a metaphysical essay on " pains and penalties.'' There has been no more famous legal notability in Scotland than John Clerk of Eldin, afterwartls Lord Eldin. When IVIeadowbank was yet Mr. jMaconochie, he one day approached his facetious professional brother, Clerk, and after telling him that he had prospects of being raised to the bench, asked him to suggest what title he should adopt. " Lord Preserve Us ! " said Clerk, and moved off. "VMien pleading before the same leai-ned senator, after he had assumed the judicial title of I^ord [Meadowbank, it was suggested to Clerk by his Lordship that in the legal document which he had submitted to the Court he might have varied the *. ( ) ■ i ■| •1 *' * H-ii •■i f, J € V :^' ft' ♦•'•: '/ T' i<: '' ..V . \ ' ) «r i n) vi m M . 1 w, , \ • 'i- l, >'ir- ill i|( IV« ^/ 1 M' '' uj •< THISTLEDOWN frequently recuiTing expression " also,"" by the occa- sional use of " likewise/* " I beg your pardon, my Lord,*" said Clerk, ** but the terms are not always synonx^mous."" ** In every case," retorted Meadowbank, gruffly. Clerk still dissented. "Then cite an instance,'' demanded the Judge. ** Well," remarked Clerk, doubtless chuckling in- wardly the while, " your Ijordshij)''s father was a Judge of Session. You are a Judge of Session alsOf but not like-wise.^ Clerk's ready wit helped him well on many an occasion. In pleading, he frequently dropped into broad Scotch, and once when arguing a Scotch appeal case before the House of Lords, in which his client claimed the use of a mill-stream by a pre- scriptive right, he contended that " the zvatter had run that way for forty years." " Indeed," argued Clerk, " naebody kens how lang, and why should my client now be deprived of the waiter ? " etc The Chancellor, much anmsed at the pronuncia- tion of the Scottish advocate, in a rather bantering tone, asked — " Mr. Clerk, do you spell water in Scot- land with two t's ? " Nettled at this hit at his national tongue, Clerk innnediately replied — " No, my Lord, we dinna spell waiter in Scotland wi' twa fs, but we spell manners in Scotland wi' twa n's." On one occasion, when he had been pleading a 292 \ ! occa- «but ffly. Ige. ing in- was a on also, lany an »ed into Scotch hich his ^ a pre- tter had ow lang, of the [onuncia- lantering in Scot- lie, Clerk ^ma spell manners ing a 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR case before Lord Hermaiid, alieady mentioned, after he hfid finished and sat down to receive jiulgment, his lordship took up the case rather warmly, and when in the heat of an excited harangue, the saliva from his lips was spurted in the face of the sarcastic iidvocate. " I have often heard o"* the dews o' Hermon," re- marked Clerk, " but I never felt them before." Mr. .Tames Wolfe-Murray became a Judge of the Court of Session, under the title of Lord Cringletie. When he was appointed, doubts were expressed by some iis to his legal acquirements, antl Clerk expressed his view in the following clever epigram : — • " Necessity and Cringletie Are fitted to a tittle ; Necessity has nae law, Cringletie has as little." When in his sixty-fifth year he was raised to the Bench, Clerk took the title of I^rd Eldin, from his family estate. Some one remarked to him that his title nearly resembled that of the Lord-Chancellor Eldon. " The difference," said he, " is all in my eye (i)." Clerk had a halt in his gait, and when passing along on the street one day, he overheai-d a lady remark to a friend — " That's John Clerk, the lame lawyer." He was about in a minute. " No, madam," said he, " I am a lame man, but not a lame lawyer." 293 ^ ^ '• 1^ i 1 I Ik 1 ' t - 1 ^ I. I,f >^''i i if C; * ! r THISTLEDOWN ^ .'■ '/' J f I h ;» jtM Quito n'^hi ; «/.s'o, but, not Ukewtsc. Another oiit-ot'-doors stoiy in coiuiection with tin's witty advocate rcfcra to un occasion when he had been dining rather freely at the house of a friend in Qneen Street, Kdinburgh. Wending his way home- wards "eai'ly in the morning, merrily, ()," he failed to (iiscover his own house in Picardy Place, and observing a housemaid busily engage^l in cleaning a doorstep — " My good girl," says he, "can you tell mc wliaur Jolui CliM-k lives?'" *' Awa' wi"" ycr nonsense," exclaimed the iustonished girl, "you're John Clerk liimser/"' "That's true enough, lassie," said he, "but ifs no John Clerk Fni seekin' for, it's John Clerk's house.''' Sir James Cohjuhoun, IJart. of Luss, Princi[)al Clerk of Session, wjis one of the odd characters of his time, and was nnich teased by the wags of the Parliament House. On one occasion, whilst Henry Erskine wiis at tlio Inner House Bai-, di:ring the advising of some important case lie amused himself by making faces at Sir James, who was sitting at the Clerk's table, beneath the Judges. His victim w;is much annoyed at the strange conduct of the tor- menting lawyer, and, miable to bear it, disturbed the gravity of the Court by lising, and exclaiming — " My Lord, my Loid, I ^vish you w ould speak to Harry, he's aye making faces at me ! " Hany, however, looked as grave as a judge. Peace ensued, and the ad\ising A\ent on, when Sir James, casting his eyes towards the Bar, witnessed a 2(H 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR new ^n'lniico fnmi liis tonnci'or, ami convulsed Bfucli, Bur, iuul jiudicnco hy jo.i'ing out, "There, my liord, he's at it ii<^aiii!" Erskiiie was ivnmi'kable for liis ready wit and sHni;in<; repai'lee. Like the illiislrious John ('lei-k of El(hn, lie was indifferent to the rules of pronmi- ciation, and in pleading before a learned senator he spoke of a curator hoim. " Allow nie to correct you,"" said his Lordship, " the word is cnrtiatirr.'''* "Thank yon, my Ix)rd,"''' said Ei-skine. "I doubt not your Loi'dship is right, since you are so learned a .snidutor, and so elo(juent an orudtor.'''' Mr. iM-skine of Alva, subse(|uently Lord Bargaig, was a person of short stature. Having Ix'en counsel in a Ciise in which Henry Ki*skine appealed on the opposite side, he was obliged on accoinit of the crowded state of the court to have a chair brought forward on which to raise himself when addressing the judge. " This,"" remarked Henry, " is one way of rising at the Bar." To a Judge of the Comr.iissiuy Court, who talked in an inflated and [)ompous manner, who told him that his brother in the country had fallen from a stile and sprained his foot — " It was fortunate for your brother," remarked Henry, " that it was not from your atyle he fell, or he had certainly broken his ne^^k." For the foregoing anecdot '-lating to this well- 295 i\ \'\i I V . \ , , • ,i f t 1 ■ 1 x ,.) VI f \, I I 't/ ll ' n *' I III t r: i ' If t ^ V ,' '!■• THISTLEDOWN known witty lawyer, as well as for the one that follows, I am indebted to the late Dr. Charles Rogers' Illu.strdtions of Scottish Life. On a changi; of ministry, Krskine wns a])[)oirited to succeed Harry Dundas (subsc(]uently Lord Melville), as Lord-Advocate. On the -ning of his appoint- ment, he met Dunda.^ ii ..le Parliument House, who had resinned tlu; ordit)aiy gown woni by all practitionera at the Scottish Bar, excepting the Ix)rd- Advocate and the Solieitoi-General. After a little convei-sation, Eiskine remarked that he nnist be off to order his silk gown. " "Tis not worth your while,*" said Dundas, " for the short time youll want it ; you had better bori-ow mine.'" "I have no doubt your gown,'" replied Erskine, "is made to ^7 «?»/ pmiy ; but howevei* short may be my time in office, it sh- not be said of Henry Erskine that he put on \ 'mndoncd hnbits of his predecessor. '"' The late Loi'd Ruthei-fora was a very able lawyer, but exceedingly affected in his manner and speech, and when addressing either the Bench or a jury spoke extra-supei-fine English. When, however, he broke out in a passion, which was by no means an unusual occurrence, he expressed his feelings in the broad vernacular. Lord Cockburn said to him one day, "It is strange, Rutherford, that you should pray in English and swear in Scotch.*" Mr. Strang and Mr. Bruce were two members of 296 ! thiit Iharles UCCl'tMl le), as :)p()int.- IIouj-o, by nil ng tlu" AftxT il Hi must w, " for ' bori'ow Erskine, ort may f Henry s of his laNvyer, speech, a jury |rever, he leans an Ys \n the I him one should ibers of •TWEEN BENCH AND BAR the facdlty in Purlianu'tit TTonso, Falinhurgli, who were nearly etjually mntcluHl in clevcrnt'ss, but most unlike ,l ; V i If 1 1 > j THISTLEDOWN 1: {'h i^ ,1 iii dealer having hired a hoi-se to a lawyer, the latter, either through bad usage or by accident, killed the beast, upon which the hirer insisted on payment of its value ; and if it was not convenient to pay costs, he expressed his willingness to accept a bill. The writer offered no objection, but said he must bo allowed a long date. The hirer desired hini to fix his own time, whereupon the writer drew a promissory note, making it payable at the day of judgment. An a< a ensued, when, in defence, the lawyer asked the juJge to look at the bill. Having done so the judge replied — **The bill is perfectly good, sir; and. as this is the day of judgment, I decree that you pay to- morrow.'* Steenie Stuart, a recently deceased and well-known inhabitant of a populous northern burgh, got "roarin' fou* ilka pay nicht," and, in consequence, had fre- quently to appear and answer for his sins at the bar of the Police Court. As he approached the rail with a leer of recognition and compromise in his eye one Monday morning, the magistrate hailed him with " Here again, Steenie ? '"" " Ou, ay, Bailie," Steenie replied. " An' are you no ashamed o' yereel' ? " ** 'Deed, am I, Bailie ; black ashamed." " Then what brings ye here ilka ither week ? " *' Dinna blame me. Bailie. I canna help it. There's a cui-se on the name." " A cui'se on whatiia name ? " 300 latter, led the nent of y costs, I. The lUst bo liiiii to drew a day of nee, the H this is pay to- ll-known i'^roarin"* had fre- the bar the rail his eye lied him k?" help it. 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR ** On my name, Bailie ; on the name o' Stuart.*" "What dye mean, sir?" *' The Stuarts, ye ken, hu'e aye been unfortunate. James the First fell by the hands o' assassins in the toun o'' Perth ; James the Second was killed at the siege o' Roxburgh Castle ; James the Third was murdered by his rebellious subjects ; Jauies the Fourth lost his life in the Battle o' Floddni Field; James the Fifth died o"* a broken heart ; Mary, puir Mary, lost her head an' her croon buith thegether ; Charlie had neither a head nor a croon to lose, or he wad ha'e lost the ane or the ither, or baith." *' Ay, ay, Steenie,"" interjected the witty Bailie, ** there's nae doot the Stuarts have had a fatal habit o' losin' tlieir heads an' their croons, but youre is a case of an especially aggravated nature. They lost nae mair than a'e croon and a'e head each, but you ha'e lost mair heads an' mair croons than a' the lave putten thegether, for you lose yer head maistly every Saturday nicht in Tarn Johnstone's public house, an' yer croon afore the Court here ilka Monday mornin'. It'll no do, Steenie lad. It'll no do. Five shillitiffs, or seven days.'''' A Coupar- Angus man, not many years ago, was sued for debt in the Sherift" Court at Perth, and on the day of the trial was met by a friend on the High Street of the Fair City. " By the by," said the friend, " ye've a case in the Coort the day." " Hoch ! it's owre an oor syne," was the reply. 301 i^'i 4, u A^ ^ ■\ {' 1' ■ \ < ^ u • 4 i' i r i ti- ■J h • •J \ \ i' k \ 1 / • !i ^ <<.| THISTLEDOWN " An' hoo cam' ye on ? " inquired the friend. " I wan." *' Ye wan ! " exclaimed the surprised interrogator, who knew that the debt was a just enough one. *' Hoo did ye manage to win ? "" " Daugon'd ! *" exclaimed the erewhile defendant, " I coiildna but win ; the thing was left to my ain oath." Swearers, of course, who view the oath as a thing of expediency, as evidently that man did, come in handy about Courts of Law, and not very long since, in the same Sheriff Court, a batch of witnesses " swore " a young man so clearly out of a charge of assault that a party in Court, who was subsetjuently to be cidled on a similar charge, was heard whispering to a friend — " Lord, Tarn, I wad gie a pound for half an oor o' thae witnesses." Witnesses are a widely various lot, and are often the source of much amusement 'tween Bench and Bar. Great tact is required by the lawyer who would get " the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," out of some of them ; and this some- times, not because of any desire on the v itnesses' part to prevaricate, but from perfectly innocent causes. Cockbum was exceedingly happy in the management of some of those who hailed from country places, and one case in which Jeffrey and he were engaged as counsel is memorable. A vital question in the cause was the sanity of one of the parties primarily con- cerned. 302 id. Togator, igh one. fendant, my ain a thing come in ig since, v'itnesses harge of •cjuently lispering •und for re often ich and rer who nothing is some- >es' part causes. Lgcment ces, and aged as le cause ly con- *TWEEN BENCH AND BAR *' Is the defendant, in your opinion, perfectly sane ? " said Jeffrey, interrogating one of the wit- nesses, a plain, stupid-looking country man. The witness gazed in bewilderment at the ques- tioner, and gave no answer. Jeffrey repeated the question, altering the words — " Do you think the defendant is perfectly capable of managing his own affaire f " Still in vain. "I ask you," said Jeffrey, "do you consider the man is perfectly rational ? " No answer yet. " Let me tackle him,"" said Cockbum. Jeffrey sat down, whereupon Cockburn assumed his broadest Scottish tone and accent, and tuniina; to the obdurate witness, began — " Hae ye your mull wi' ye ? " "Ou, ay!" said the awkward countryman, and diving his hand into his coat pocket he drew forth his snuff'-horn and handed it over to the witty counsel. "Noo, hoo lang hae ye kent John Sampson?"" inquired Cockbum, tapping the mull familiarly with his finger, and taking a pinch. " Ever since he was that heicht,"" was the ready reply, the witness indicating with his hand the alleged altitude. " An' d'ye really think noo, atween you an' me," said the advocate, in his most insinuating Scotch manner, " that there's onything ava intill the cratur'?'' 303 |v.-f 1 I A :: \ w • ' i I « , i 1' i \ THISTLEDOWN « >:,'^ ^ j ♦ t f < 'i *.! " if. I wadna lippen him wi' a bull-stirk,'* was the instant and brilliant rejoinder ; and Jeffrey admitted that Cockbuni had fairly extracted the essence of the evidence. Cockburn, who entered the faculty in the year 1800, was in his day the most elotjuent and per- suasive orator at the Scottish Bar. With his impressive oratoiy, writes one, his expressive face and fine eye, his mellow voice, and his pure and homely Scottish dialect, he was almost irresistible with a jury, or in the General Assembly of the Church, wliere he was often engaged as counsel. On the trial of the infamous Burke and his wife, in 1829, for numerous murders of unfortunate creatures whom they had lured into their den and murdered, and whose bodies they sold to the Edinbuigh doctors for dissection purposes, he acted as counsel for the woman. The trial lasted till five in the morning of the second day, and after sixteen or seventeen hours' previous exertion, he addressed the jury, in one of the most impassioned, and powerful speeches he ever delivered. He spoke for an hour, and literally held the jury and the audience spell-bound. His chief aim was to break down the evidence of Hare, and his wife, who were socii criminis^ and had been admitted by the Crown as approvei-s. While the miserable woman was giving her evidence, she had a child in her arms, who continued to scream almost incessantly. After drawing, in scathing and terrible words, a picture of her and Hare's atrocities, whom 304 V V '^ .'!■ 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR v' •^'i »»•? ^ he represented as the real criniinals, he ascribed the screaming of the child to terror, "as if it had felt the fingei-s of the murderous hag clutching its little innocent throat." His peroration, delivered with a glistening eye, in tones of the utmost solenmity and pathos, put it to the jury that there was no real evidence except that of the approvers, and that if they found the accused guilty upon such evidence as that of the two Hares, "these [pointing with a trenmlous hand to the accused] will be nmrdered, and these [pointing to the jury] will be perjured." Horrified as all in Court had been at the fearful atrocities disclosed on the trial, there was, when he sat down, a univei-sal hum of sympathy from the large audience. His speech saved the woman's life ; for, while the jury found the man guilty, their verdict in the case of the woman was " not proven." For racy wit and humour Cockbum was ecjually distinguished as he was for elot^uence. On one occasion he was engaged in a case in which some miscreant had ill-used and maimed a farmcr"'s cattle by cutting off their tails. At the conclusion of a consultation, at which the farmer was present, some conversation took place as to the disposal of the animals. Turning to him, Cockburn said the cattle might now be sold, but that he nuist be content to sell them wholesale, because he could not retail them. On another occasion he was counsel for a man accused of a capital crime, for which, if found guilty, the punishment was death. Tlie evidence 305 » 1 I 4. 1 . ' , m •i^, ri' ' h >v-r' ! 1 (• )'"> •4 / > i^t 5 M ) : h I 1". ' ^ THISTLEDOWN was quite concllls^^e as to the v\\i\\\\ guilt. When the jury had retired to considei' their verdict, his client roundly taxed him wilh not having done him jiLstice in the defence. He hore the f'tH()w''s insolence for some time, but at last he gave him the pithy reply — " Keep your mind e^\ iw K_i"t ■ < 1 r\ iC. i f [• \ ;( ;; Sf I: (i THISTLEDOWN fun to the world. A boy being brought before a newly-installed West country bailie for stealing a turnip, he senteneed him to sevtn days" imprison- ment, lidding, in profoundly solemn tones, "And may the Lord have nierey on your soul." A Glasgow magistrate had a young lad brought before him accused with abstracting a handkerchief from a gentlcman''8 pocket. Without waiting for proof of the accused's guilt, the bailie addressed him, remarking, *' I ha'e nae doot but ye did the deed, for I had a handkerchief ta'en oot o' my ain pouch this vera week," and passed sentence. The same magisterial logician wjw on another occasion seated on the bench, when a case of serious assault wiis brought before him by the public prosecutor. Struck by the powerful phraseology of the indictment, the bailie proceeded to say, "For this malicious crime you are fined half a guinea." The assessor remarked that the case had not been proven. "Then," continued the magistrate, "well mak' it five shillings." An unfortunate fellow, many yrars ago. appeared at the bar of the Ghisgow Polite Court for being dnuik and disorderly. Both the culprit and the bailie wei'e characters in their way. The case was conclusively proved, and the bailie fined the man in fifteen shillings. " Fifteen shillings ! " exclaimed the man. " Bailie, youVe surely no' in ea'-" : ^^less ye! whan will I win fifteen shilliTi' tr ^ie ye ! " 310 \ -III (i 'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR Well,'" said the biilie, " Til make it half a guinea, aiid not a farthing less." " Ilaiif a guinea 1 If yc fine me in haiif a guinea whafs to come o' my puir wife an' weans ? They maun starve ; there's nae itlur way o't ! " ix'turned the offender, in a most lugubrious tone. ** Ay, we maun a' starve, or beg ! " "Well," siiid the bailie, relenting, "Fll make it seven and six, and not a farthing less ! " "Seeven an' six! That's just the hauf o' my week's wages — and there's no' a grain o' meal in the hoose, nor a bit coal to mak' it ready, even supposin' there was ! Oh, bailie, think what an awfu' lot seven an' six is to a workin' man wi' a sina' family ! " " Well, well,'' returned the good-natured magis- trate, "I'll make it five shillings, and I'll not make it a farthing less though you were the king on the throne!" " Weel, weel, bailie, Mary an' me an' the weans maun just submit," said the knave, pretending to have broken into tears, at the sjime time saying to himself, " Blessed is he that wisely doth the poor man's case consider." The soft-hearted bailie couldn't stand the silent appeal of teare nor the apt quotation the artful dodger had made, so, gathering together all the poor stock of savage energy he possessed, he turned on the prisoner, and said — " Ixx)k here ! I'll mak' it hauf a crown, and though jou were ma ain brither I couldna mak' it less ! " 811 • I THISTLEDOWN s ; Bailie Robertson of Edinburgh had not the ad- vantage of an early education, nor the prudence to conceal his ignorance. A case was bi ought before him, in which the owner of a squiiTel presented a claim of damages against a pei-son who had it in charge, but who had allowed it to escape. The case was one of great complication, and the bailie was rather at a loss for a time. At length, collecting his faculties, he said to the defendant, " Hoo did it manage to get awa' ? " **The door o' the cage was open, and it gaed oot through tlie window," was the reply. **Then, hoo did you no' clip its wings ? ■" " Ifs a quadruped, your honour," said the defen- dant. " Quadruped here, or quadruped there," argued the magistrate, " if ye had clippit the brute's wings it couldna hae flown awa'. I maun decide against ye.' , s l> 812 HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE Hi 1 i CHAPTER Xn HUMOURS OF SCOrnSH RURAL LIFE AFFORDING better opportunities for the development of iridividual character than are to be found in the busy town and crowded city, country life is more congenial also to the growth and exercise of the faculty of original humour. In the denser populations information on eveiy intelligible subject is so readily accessible through the medium of books, magazines, morning and evening newspapers, and courses of lectures, etc., that it is not incumbent on any one to form his or her own idea of any particular matter. Id^as here are supplied ready- made, like everything else, and warranted free from adulteration ; and thus your city and townspeople see very generally eye to eye ; and from frequency of contact with each other, and the causes already indicated, are forcibly rubbed into something like a general mental, as well as physical, similitude. In the rural districts of the country it is altogether different. Books are scaire, daily newspapers rarely appear, there are no courses of scientific or other lectures, and so the individual mind has largely to form its own idea of every particular subject ; and as very much of what is most enjoyable in humorous 313 V . i, i •I >i lA rx'^i i ' I THISTLEDOWN Scottish stones and anecdotes arises from "simple and matter-of-fact references made to circumstances which are unusual,"" thus it is that the best as well as the most of our Scottish humour is bred of rural life. Every book of native anecdotes — every bout of story-telling — reveals this fact. And in the present chapter I shall recount, iri'espective of con- secutive order and design, the choicest illustrations of the humoure of Scottish rural life which have not already appeared in these pages, and with vhich my memory shall serve me, connnitting them to paper simply as they rise in my mind. And, just to set the ball a-rolling, let the first story relate to the first day of the week, and be one that to some extent contrasts the town with the country notion as to the proper observance of the day of rest. It is a story which Mr. Henry Irving told, and did not tell well, some years ago, in the couise of an after-dinner speech in (I think) New York, and which, with (juestionable propriety, he related as having liappened in his own experience whilst, shortly before, he had been journeying in the vicinity of Balmoral, although it had been told in pithier form in select circles in Scotland for ten years and more. The story is to this effect : — A well-known and esteemed city Established Kirk minister, in the course of a summer vacation in the North, wjis prevailed upon by u brother clergyman a little distance off to occupy his pulpit for a day, during his, the local preacher''s, peremptoiy call from home. The service consisted 314 :i s HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE of a "single yokin"','' which ended a little after mid-day, and the weather being fine, the D.D., for he was such, when he had " cuisten the goon " and refreshed the inner man, took his familiar staff in his hand and emerged from the manse to enjoy a stroll along the quiet country road. A fcAV hundred yards distant from the manse gate he passed a little farm steading on the roadside, the abode of the ruling elder of the congregation, and one of the sternest Calvinists and strictest Sabbatarians in the whole parish, but had hardly done so when he heard footsteps behind him, and the next moment an arresting hand was laid on his shoulder. " Yell excuse me, sir,"" said the farmer and elder, **but yeVe the Edinborough minister that was preachin' to us the day, an' I would like to ken if yeVe walkin"* oot the gate for mere plctisure on the blessed day, or if yeVe on a mission o' mercy ? ^ "Oh, ifs a delightful afternoon,"" replied the divine, "and I am just enjoying a meditative walk amid the beauties of Nature, so rich and " "I just suspectit as muckle," broke in the elder; *' but you that's a minister o' the Gospel sud ken that this is no a day for ony sic thing."" " Well," returned the Doctor, " we find good precedent for walking on the Sabbath. You re- member that even the Master himself walked in the fields with His disciples on the Sabbath day.'"* "Ou, I ken a' aboot that brawly,"" snorted the €lder; "but I dinna think ony mair o' Him for"'t w 315 f V ^ v1 1 ■ f I 1 w \ \i I; \ IV- iJi ^U>> ! fl ' ♦ ! a THISTLEDOWN either!'' and immediately turning on his heel, he strode sulkily towards the steading. But, of course, the ministers are more commonly the accusers than the accused in the matter of sup- posed or actual Sabbath desecration — both in town and country. " A\lierefore did you go and shoot the hare on the Sabbath day, John ? "" asked a reverend gentleman once of a parishioner who was " before the Session "" for the misdeed in question. "Weel, ye see," replied John, not unphilosophi- cally, " I had a strong dreed that the beastie michtna sit till Monday, say just dressed his drod- rum when I had the chance." But a certain minister and elder in Perthshire once combined to transact dubious business, even " between the preachin''s." " Had it not been the Sabbath day, Mr. Blank," remarked the preacher, " I would have asked you how the hay was selling in Perth on Friday ? " " Weel, sir," replied the sessional confrere, " had it no been the day that it is, I wad just hae tell't ye it was gaun at a shillin"' the stane." " Indeed 1 Well, had it been Monday instead of Sabbath, I would have told you that I have some to sell." " Imphm, ay, ou ay, sir. An' had it been Monday, as ye say, then, I wad just hae tell't ye I wad gie ye market price foi't." The significant nod which the minister gave to 316 HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE this last remark brought the elder with a couple of carts to the manse on Monday morning, and before mid-day the minister's hay-stack was nan est. These fellows were wise as serpents, though scarcely as innocent as doves. The Dumfries old lady who was accustomed to employ the wet Sundays in arranging her wardrobe had less cunning. '* Preserve me!" she would exclaim, " another gude Sabbath ! I dinna ken whan I'm to get thae drawers redd up.'' Dr. Guthrie says " our ancestors might have been too scrupulous. I don't say they did not fall into glaring inconsistencies " in connection with Sabbath observance, and tclb a story of his going to preach for a clerical friend in Ross-shire. Before retiring to rest on Saturday night, he asked his friend if he could get warm water in the morning to shave with. " Wheesht ! wheesht ! " returned his host. " Speak of shaving on the Lord's day in Ross-shire, and you need never preach here again." And yet at the same time, in the same locality, a little warm water and whisky would have been supplied on the self-same morning without question, being regarded as a work of necessity and mercy. Speaking of necessity and mercy. It is Dr. Guthrie also, I think, who tells of a maid-servant who i-efused to feed the cows on the Sabbath, although she was willing to milk them. The explanation being, " Tlie cows canna milk themsel's, so to milk them is a clear work o' necessity, but let them out to the fields and 317 M \ji. i uf-^'^ 1-1 ,iiV I Hi-' t{ \i 1^1 if ' r 'A ! i* THISTLEDOWN they'll feed themsers weel enough.'* And speaking of milking reminds me of a good country story. It is a native of Glciiisla, in Foifarshire, and belongs to the time when Matthew Henry's famous Bible Commentaiy was the apple of every leal Scotsman's eye. One Gcordie Scott, thereaway, was so fain to possess a copy of *' Matthew Henry," as this Bible was long familiarly termed, that he suggested to his wife (the two lived alone together) that they might sell the cow and purchase one with the price she would realise. The wife demurred at first, but latterly consented, with one proviso — namely, that Geordie would be willing to take ** treacle ale" to his porridge eveiy morning. This the good man at once agreed to. So cinimmie departed, and " Matthew Henry " arrived. A few weeks passed, and the big ha' Bible gave great delight, but the " treacle ale " was like to turn Geordie's stamach a'thegithcr. " Dod, wife," said he one morning, " I doot that treacle ale's no gaiui to do wi' me, we'll need to try an' get a wee drap milk to the parritch. What do ye think?" Janet had been missing her troke with the cow, and was rueing that she had consented to the "nifFer." "'Deed, gudeman," says she, "a bargain's a bar- gain. An' gin ye will hae milk, an' winna want it, ye maun just gang an' milk * Matthew Henry.'" Your rural Scot is reflective and argumentative to a degree. 318 HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE " Dinna tell nie," said a sapient Forfarehire laird of the old school, "dinna tell nie that the earth"'s shaped like an orange, an' that it whirls roond aboot ilka twenty four ""oors. It's a"* nonsense. The Seidlaw Hills lie to the North aiid the Tay to the Sooth ut nicht when I gang to my bed ; i' the niornin' when I rise I find them the same ; an' thuts glide proof that the earth disna tuni roond. FU tell ye what it is — an' I speak wi' authority of ane wha's gi'en the maitter a deal o' thocht — the earth's spread oot just like a nmckle biirley scone, in which the Howe o' Strathmore represents a knuckle mark." Reflective, I said. Very ! And the ordinary Scotch farmer's love of gain is proverbial. Life in his eyes is valuable chiefly as a season in which to make money. Thus, not very long ago, while about half a dozen farmers were returning home by train from the Perth weekly market, they talked about how this friend and that friend wjis in his health ; and about some others who had died recently, and how much money each of them must have left. " Ay, but men dinna live nearly sae lang nooadays as they did in the Bible times ! " remarked one, with a heavy sigh " Eh, man, na," broke in another, who had hitherto not spoken. " An' I was just thinkin' there to mysel' a minute syne, that Methuselah nuist have been worth a power o' money when he dce'd, if he was onything o' a savin' kind o' a man ava." Waggish some of them, and m i id not a few. There 319 . ^ V .. ) ill , t .i^f! I J «■■ 1 ^■\ J . i.' i y . ) 4 ■i< it )i ^ < ' I rr ( f 1 •1 , /' hi' f> j:^- ?.«•.; . ;.' i ' 11 I THISTLEDOWN are many rare good fellows among the farmers of Perthshire ; genuine humourists, too. Here was how one of them proposed the toast of " The Queen " at a recent Cattle Show dinner. He was Chairman, and, " Noo, gentlemen," said he, " fill a' your glasses, for I'm aboot to bring fonit *The Queen/ (Ap- plause.) Our Queen, gentlemen, is really a wonderfu' Moman, if I may say it. She's ane o' the gude auld sort ; nae whigmalecries or falderalls aboot her, but a douce, daicent bodie. Respectable, beyond a' doot. She's brocht up a gi-and family o' weel-faur'd lads and lasses — her auldest son wad be a credit to ony mithf.T ; and they're a' weel married — a'e dauchter is nae less than married to the Duke o' Argyle's son and heir. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, ye'll maybe no believe it, but I ance saw the Queen. (Sensation.) I did. It was when I took my auld broon coo to the Perth Show. I mind o' her weel — sic colour! sic hair ! sic (Interruptions, and cries of " Is it the coo or the Queen ye're proposin' ? ') The Queen gentlemen. I beg your pardon, but I was talkin' aboot the coo. Hooever, as to the Queen ; somebody pointed her out to me at the Perth station. And there rhe was, smart and tidy-like; and says I to myseP, * Gin my auld woman at hame slips awa' ye needna remain a widow anither hour langer.' (Cheers.) Noo, gentlemen, the whisky's gude, the nicht's lang, the weather's weet, and the roads are saft and will harm naebody that comes to grief. So afF wi" ye ; every gless to the boddom — ' The Queen ! ' " 320 HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE Many forces in Nature and circuinstances in life conspire to disturb the peace of the farmer. Amongst them — trespassers. But, if he is a man of resource, he may summon a species of artillery that will "hold the field " against all comei-s. It is told of one in the South that, while some niembei*s of the Ordnance Survey were plodding here and there through growing grain and everything else on his farm, and perhaps more than was necessary, just to initate the farmer, who, they had learned, wiis a crusty customer. They had not manoeuvred long when the farmer approached. " What are ye dancin"' aboot there for ? " he demanded. " Oh, we have a right to go any where,*'"' returned one of the company. " ^Ve are surveying, and here are our Government papers." " Papers here or papers there," returned the farmer, "oot ye gang oot o"" my field." " No, we shan't," was the reply ; " and, remember, you are rendering yourself liable to prosecution for interrupting us." The farmer said no more ; but going over to a shed which opened into the field, and at the time chanced to contain a vicious bull, he gently opened the door and stood aside. The bull no sooner saw the red coats than he, of couree, rushed at them in full career. The surveyors snatched up their theodolite and ran for their lives, while the old farmer held his sides with laugliter, and yelled after 321 I t THISTLEDOWN 1! i 1 1 c "'I J f« tliem — " What arc ye a"" riTiniir for ? Can ye no show him yer Governincnt papers ?" S[)eaking of trespassing, I am reminded of a story which reveals how ready-witted tht; rural inhabitants win sometimes be. One day, many years ago, Willie Craig, a Peithsliire village wortliy, found himself in the near vicinity of Scone Palace, and by cutting through the woods theie he would reach his destina- tion much sooner than by holding to the public road. The old Earl of Mansfield could never distingtiish between a trespasser and a poacher, and Willie knew this, and th.'it if he was seen he Mould, at the very least, be tinned back. Still the nearer road was so ti'mpting that he ventured it, trusting his own ready wit to cope with the vigilance of the terror-striking game-preserver. All went well initil about three- fourths of the forbidden ground had been travei-sed. when, lo and behold, the Earl ap])earcd. Willie, alert to every sight and sound, eyed the Earl ere the Earl had time to eye him, so instantly turned on his heel and commenced to retrace his steps. " Hi, sir! " cried tlK> Earl, " where are you going? "^ Willie snooved along and made no reply. " Halt, sir ! " cried the Earl, rushing up to where Willie wjis ; " turn this moment, and go back the way you came." Willie meekly and instantly obeyed. He had not gone many paces when the Earl, straining a point in favour of so pliable a culprit, again stopped him and said he might go for this time. Willie hesitated 322 / % V 'i} low Vlllle •If ill not ht in and ited o c c it y ''I I ♦ .K ^■■ii; ■ \ 1^ I f ( i\y r. i[ ! m X \ ^ i '/i ' 1 s HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE ft)r a luonu'nt, hut, mash'niig the situatioji with one hright idea, he (|iiickt'iu'(l his sti-p, and, glancing over his shoulder, retorted with eiu'igy — • " Na, na, my loid ; yeVe turned nie ance, hut ye'Il never turn nie twice. Til liit ye see, noo, that I'm just as independent as ye' re fit to Ix.*." S[)eaking of Perthsliire worthies reminds me of another characteristic story. A thrifty middle-aged crofter of that ilk, until a year or two ago, lived a hfe of easy bachelorhood, his only domestic companion being an anti(|uated maiden sister. About the peritxl indicated, however, following the example of the majority of his sex, he took unto himself a wife, whom he brought home to reside together with his sister and himself. "Twa women is ane ower mony in ony house," says the proverb, and this instance proved no exception. The new-comer soon made the situation so hot for her sister-in-law that the crofter perceived that a reconstruction of his house- hold was instantly necesstiry. He was ecjual to the occasion ; the wife was dismissed sans ccremonie. On being interrogated by a neighbour on the policy of his action, Peter made reply — "Was I gaun, think ye, to hae my sister abused by a woman that isna a drap's bluid to ony o' the twa o' us ? "" Very good ! And Peter's philosophic reply brings vividly before me the characteristic figure of honest Tammas Brotni, a well-known deni/en of a small Perthshire village. Tamnuvs had little or no idea of 323 ■ •!. V ! ■' ■ ' f'i ! - lit; f: w \'> ■A ( h r ■ ■l THISTLEDOWN things humorous ; yet, as if by the inspiration of accident, he was continually passing remarks and answering queslions in language and manner the most provocative of laughter. One day a Free Church minister — now of world-wide fame — was passing along while Tamn'as was busily engaged at the thatching of a stack i i his own little barn-yard, and snatching readily at Jie circumstance as a means to the improvement of tlie moment, the divine called out — " You are thatching, I see, Thonjas. Do you think you will require to do any such work in the future existence ? " " Not at all, sir," was the instant and innocent rejoiner; "this is only to hold out •water.'''' Tirmmas''s daughter, rumour s:«id, at one time was about to marry with a young man of the village of whose family Tannnas did not approve, Village gossipj are active creatures, and the spirit, if not the exact letter, of Tannnfi!s''s dissent was early conveyed to the young man's mothei", a bit of a randy. The result was a forced meeting on the king's highway, when the eni-aged matron demanded to know if TammaF had ever said that her son wasna a match for his dochter ? " I never said such a thing, lady," Tammas replied coolly, " I simply remarked that he was a hawk out of a bad nest." And the matter ended. To be called "Fifish" is not a cornphment, but there is much pawky humour in the typical Fife 324 K ration of arks and inner the ^ a Free ime — was igagcd at )arn-yard, .s a means ?ine called Do you )rk in the I innocent e time was ; village of Village if not the conveyed idy. The highway, know if a a match lias replied hawk out jnicnt, but )ical Fife t y oTi^-^'!^. "Mail, I havfiia ^o\ a tardcii in tiic li.ili- toon.'" " Na. I'm no thinking yc wad ; yc sec, we do a" our ain wliisllin' licrc." — \'i\ijt ■:.'■'•. ;%<« I » ^ "X -^1 '« Sb? ' r > I , • ■ :V \ Ml " « J rli I K (i HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE character. Here is a specimen : — Recently a tattered son of Orpheus attached to the end of a tin whistle penetrated the hvnd as far as Kingsbarns, in the PLast Neiik. Entering at one end, he whistled him- self right out at the other, without receiving a copper. As he passed the last door he turned towards an old native who sat sunning himself on a low dyke. " Man,"" said he, " 1 havena got a fardon in the hale toon."" " Na, Fm no thinking ye wad,"" replied the ancient Fifer ; "ye see, we do a"* our ain whistlin' here."" Every one who h.'is scon much of country life has noticed with what patient skill and anxiety a plough- man builds, say, a load of hay or straw which he is afterwards to cart to the town, and the pride there is in his eye as he marches with it along the road, guiding his pair of horses with cheering words and gentle touches of the reins. Not many yeai's ago a Perthshire ploughman was proceeding in the manner indicated when, in a narrow part of the road, he was met by a hearse and a funeral party on foot behind it. On either side of the road was a deep ditch, and it was au once evident that every inch of room would be re(juired to effect a safe passage. The funeral party were, ^ely naturally, most concerned about the safety of the hearse, and not l<;ss than half a dozen voices kept assailing the ploughman with " Ilaud t ye ! baud t ye ! hand tVe ! " The ploughman held to him, and held to him, and still being implored to yield further, he held to him just < V y i i \^' Ii THISTLEDOWN '/■ !;• f f' t (' ■ \r '( k!M l> .i an inch too far, and heels-over-head the horses and cartload of hay went into the ditch. Jock viewed the wreck for one brief moment, thi n, timiing to those around him, he exclaimed, " '^ -; see what yeVe dune noo wi"" yer d — d — dawmed burial.'^ There is room for the play of humour sometimes on the occasion of a " coupit cart."" One day a country lad approached a man who was ploughing in a field near the highway, and said — " Od man, I\e coupit my cart."" "Coupit yer cart ! That's a peety, man, W^iaui* is't, and what had ye on't ? " " It's doon on the road yonder, an' it was laden wi' hay. Do you think you could come an' help me to lift it?" " Weel, I canna leave mv hoi'ses in the middle o' the field, but as sune as I get d{K)n to the end o' the ftirr, I'll come an' help ye." "Man, div ye no think yo can come i' the noo.'^^ he asked, scratching his head. "Iio ; ye see weel eneuch I canna come i' the noo." "Aweel," he said, in a tone of resignation, "I maun just wait then, but it would have suited better if ye could have come i' the noo, for the hanged thing is, my — my — faither's below't ! " I sjiid burial a minute ago, and the word recalls a little story revealing much diy humour, A country cottar lay, as was evident, on his deathbed. His wife, true and faithful, sat on a chair by his side knitting a stocking, and ready to minister to his 326 \ n. ■f *1 and •wed (T to yreVe times lay a Thing Vliaui- laden elp me ddle o' I o' the I'M noor le noo."" better hanged -calls a country- His his side to bis Vv — / '/^ " Man. (Hv y<' no lliink \v can conic i' tlic noor" *'Xo; ye sec weel cnciich I canna come i" tlu' noo." "Awed," lie said, in a tone of resignation. " I niann just wait, tlien, but it would have suited better it ye could have come i' the noo, for the haiifi'ed thin}? is. my my -faither's below 'I ! " — I'mji •'.''. V f ,1 I II ! w 1 i < 1 J ^ n m 1 ,yT/ ■.^ •f ,/ Ml ' !>> ■»*, Uf 1 N rii ^1 ■ 1 > ''i-r ( ' « i' ■ ., ( / i i ) ) I I I 1 HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE wants. Through the half-open door of the sick- ixDom the dying man could see into the kitchen, from the roof of which there was suspended a nice fresh stump of bacon ham. " MargY't," he said, by and by, "there's a nice bit of ham hangiu' in the kitchen roof, if ye wad fiy a slice o' that, woman, I think I could tak' it." The ham had evidently not been expected to meet John's eye, and the request disconcerted MargV't. " Eh, John," she replied " there's few things in the warld I cud bear to refuse ye, but I canua brak' on that bit ham. Ifll tak'' it a' to scr' the foxik at the fwiernV A fanner not far froui Coupar-Angus happened to go into the bothy and seeing all his men sitting by the lire doing nothing, he said he would bring them some books to read. On going back some weeks after he saw his books lying up on a shelf with about an inch of dust on them, and he asked if they had been reading them. One of the plough- men said they hadn't nuich time, and he said he would take them back then, and did so. After he had gone one of the men said, "Does the eediot think we will wirk his wark and read his books for the same siller ^ " That is humour of the unconscious type. The next illustration belongs to the otlier class, and is quite as fresh, being as a matter of fact only a few months old. A Glasgow dignitary, with a very 32T ' I \\ «' 'I 1 'P I ^ HUi (l ,lt li^ ''.I THISTLEDOWN fine handle to his name, was recently rusticating in Western Perthsliire ; and expressing the desire to his host to know at first hand the feeling of the rural mind on tlie subject of Disestablishment, he wjis taken to the nearest roadside smithy and in- troduced to the smith. On being interrogated on the matter, the smith's reply was, "OYl, sir, I dinna ken vena weel what to say aboot it. This Kirk affair seems to me a'thegither just like a bee''s skep that's cuisten twa or three times. First there was the Anti-Burgher, or auld Licht, hive that cam att'. Syne there was the Seceders, or U.P.'s, as ye ca' them. Then theixi was the Free hive. An"* noo, because it's no like to cast ony mair, they wad fain hae us to start an' smeek the auld skep — a gey ungratefu' like piece o' waik." There is an old proverb which says — "Fules shudna use chappin'-sticks, nor weavoi"s guns." Drawing an infei'ence therefrom, townspeople should be careful how they express themselves on country affairs to a country-bred person. After the late Lord Cockburn had become pro- prietor of Ronaly, at the foot of the Pentland Hills, he was sitting on the hillside with his shepherd one day, and observing the sheep reposing in the coldest situation, he remarked — " John, if I were a sheep, I would lie on the other side of the hill." " Ah, my Lord," said the shepherd, " but if ye was a sheep, ye wad hae mair sense." 328 if ye \ vV I ''.-."v '4., % \- . A . I other Ni; i' , (I I 1 ,f! I .i)' Vv.,.!«' . r. I I i.-(\ 1.' , Mill »• .J fC-^illi^ tijl; jj, rn'u' t 1 uti liii' ,i ! >■>.•(•^ .1 ' Vi''>l,Ml>Ii<[iutf n' ^•'> ' ■'. }t» t|)« tit; !i'<( •..,.' i-!v>»' MlliiilV 'A'.' ' ' ;' ''I'v ' ••! >\'i;i to hii't- iiitui! it. Till.- ^^ ■'tl.'S:?' • I ■/■■ '.tV,!l i!!*'!;!':! • J|;,sl 111,!- ,.| Ik,.', ,,j. ''^'' »•«■; V'li I "a • r i ,. : |i',.'/ ]'i|-;>i, fh< -y . I, ^ A.f 'liii'ji I •, (', '. 1 .( } :.•],' h:-i' iti..i ■(: ■ ;'•^ tir !'. ■ V. ; I' ,' S. I ,■ i.M,, t I 5 1* s f - s. •It'- I'.'. Tl"'; ;i,, i^' •.',;,, f',» {•',•,.• 'i;vc. \j'' r, 'I'.MU'." ii .-. ii.' lil>L li> r.t ! o' , ;i)!U»'. ilnv '.'..i-i' ; . 'j'K i>^ \', .-btr't. a.M* .ru-.K ;ii, i.,.| >s| I |i ...1 ._ I !?;..■;,'■■» ''-.til \Uy {)(• ■•<• o v.iiiv."' •'1' I ■ •■ 1 1 f 1 - •. -.■ • ^(M i. V) !"-'N,n,. •' -IVC •■• ;; li;..*" |)!V;\\ ill;/- , I • ' I ' ■ • ' ' • I ■ •'.>. I ■■ .', ;t< I •; !■■. f^.i iii] 'h' fv^i7 t r> ■:•(• ; ''i'.: ' II , '> . Ill ' i;, ■!•.• ^< 'lii I'M'" .'O'.i'ls'u'ii ii'i'. 'HI ;(; <(' iM ; i ,1.1' t.' Ir " U I .<■ -he I . •' ►^'r'jf i!) !,'m' '.'Vl.M;' '>lt'u Ki •I. ! . ■.•.{ li''-o!i t lie {>': <-] tj 7 I ^^ 'c- ;i, .^itrtsr. !'V .l,<''p't<*li.J tVll ll i.i•^ M *' John, if I were a sheep, 1 would lie on hhc other Hide of the hill." *' Ah," said the shepherd. " but if ye w.-is a sheep, ye wad hae mair sense. "~-7'a^<3 3!iS. .Vs n ^> ^ -Nik IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ;♦ "^y y. ^/; 1.0 I.I !* i. aC IM 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" — ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 14580 (716) 873-4S03 V ^v ■O' :\ \ ^ 6^ #^ >^*i % 9) ^ (/j ,^* 'I f. Ji •- ,S,;.'.M«i: mm I U ■ KK/, V-?'' ;, " \'<, ^^f*:&. L/r ,i;. " r < 1 i KiC-.-.-r-^ , ■V S -*"i \-,"W ■ -;«s<»- «'^;; ,t;.,.^it^' ■"**=■ ;\yi^. --i' *>- ':/>V^'<^i-*;i:;..v**)>^ isif «-^a4, ■ ■Mt »fei5M& Xfc HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE Lord Rutherford, having entered into convei'sation with a shepherd on the Pentland Hills one day, complained bitterly of the weather, which prevented him enjoying his visit to the country. In specially forcible language he denounced the mist, and ex- pressed his wonder how, or for wliat purpose, an East wind was created. The shepherd, a tall, gnm figure, turned round sharply upon him, and — "What ails ye at the mist, sir?" he said. "It wats the sod, it slockens the yowes, and," adding with nnich solenmity, "iO Gods wull^'' he tiu-ned away with lofty indignation. Lord Rutheiford used to repeat this with much candour as a fine specimen of rebuke from a sincere and simple mind. P'ine-spun theories and a high-falutin form of address may be wasted energy when applied to your ordinary rural inhabitant ; but, even when his ignorance comes out, it is fre(|uently seen in the garb of humour. Wlien Dr. Johnson was travelling in Scotland, he came up one day to a peasant who was busily engtiged cutting turf, i.e. — ca.sting divots. "Pray, sir," incpiired the k'xicographer, "can you {Kjint out the way to the most contiguous village, for we are dreadfully fatigued, having deviated from our road these two houi"s ? " " Tired wi' divoting twa hours ! " exclaimed the iiistic, with scornful sui*j)rise. " I have been divotinff 329 .■« n ^1 i. s * \ ' ■III ' 1 ^ \\ t .J Vii H\\ii " i "\ ,> IP ['r*^ f i'» I 1 f I 'f 7! V P 'I 1;' THISTLEDOWN here since four o'clock this nioining, and maun do sae Jis liiii«^ as I can see, tired or no." A burly Clydesdale farmer visiting Glasgow a nundjer ot" years since, entered a chemist's shop to purchase a (juantHy of salts and senna for domestic puiposes, and found the man of drugs — a bit of a wag — busily engaged with a galvanic bjittery. The farmer looked on for some time at the operations of the chenn'st, and, his cuiiosity l)ecoming aroused — "What kind o' a machine do ye ca"* that, maister?'' said he. " Oh, man, thafs the new patent machine for siiwin' turnips,"' was the reply. " For sawin' nee{)s ! " cried the astonished son of the soil. " I Too dis't work ? " " Take hold of the handles," said the chemist, "and ril show you." No sooner had he taken hold of the handles than the chemist set the thing in motion. In less than a minute the farmer was dancing and howling in the most dreadful manner. " Throw the handles on the counter, man," cried the chemist. This the farmer was, of course, unable to do. At length he cried, " Woa ! woa ! man! Dod, it's ])erf(rt nun-der haudin' that thing." The chemist then stopped the current of electricity ; ami as soon as he w iis released the farmer rushed from the shop, shouting, " By the I^ord Hairy, I'll stick to the auld-tiishioned barrow yet ! " 330 HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE At a sale of an anti(juarian gentleman's effects in Roxburghshire, which Sir ^ValtL'r Scott happened to attend, there wjis one little article — a Roman patera — which occa»sioned a gcxxl deal of competition, and was eventually knocked down to the author of Wnvcrley at a high price. Sir Walter was excessively amused during the time of the bidding to observe how much the price being realize 1^' ill '•* J »! t' 331 ,1 Mi 1 p(-1 J 4 V it! I THISTLEDOWN n."" Mr. Inglis, in his book. Our Ain Folk^ tells a story of a grand dinner that was given inside the ruins of Ed/ell Castle in honour of Fox Maule, who had succee ^ V '»!> lit f i:'i S '( V ) 4 It- THISTLEDOWN graniul if ye like; but I cuii only wiy the fodder's niichty dear at niie an' twenty guid shillings for a wiieeji clmppit neeps no fit to set doon to a stirk." The siiine baiujiiet gave rise to another story concerning a sluip fanner from Lethnot. lie wjus a hard-heiuled man, and could stand any amount of whisky at a market fair without "turning a hair," but a bajKjuet fairly bumbai/ed him. lie had got among some lawyei-s, who weie drinking champagne, and looking with the utmost contempt on the potency of the "thin fi/zin'' stuff," he quaffed bumjjers of it at eveiy toast. Some time after Ml-. Inglis came upon him at another table covered with toddy tmnblers and whisky bottles, and arrived at that state of intoxication known jus " greetin*" fou.''"' On the minister incjuiiing what was the matter with the poor man, he replied, weeping copious teal's — " Ah, Maister Inglis, Fm failin' ; Fin failin' fast. Ym no lang for this waiT ! "" -* Oh, nonsense,"''' said the minister, " don"'t Ix? foolish! You look hale and hearty yet. You just tiy to get away home."" " Fm clean dune, sir ! Fm clean failed," pereisted the lachiymose farmer, with intense pathos. " As fac''s death, sir, Fve only haen aucht tumblers, and Fm fou, sir — Fm fou ! " The Carlyles were a countiy-bred family, and the country roadman^s criticism of them would have made " Teiifelsdnickh "" laugh as only readers 334 foddc'r's rs for ji ^tirk." LT story lie wjis nount of a huir," had got nipagnt', on the quaff 1(1 ne after i covered [1 arrived ' greetiir was the weeping ilin' fast. on't 1h' 'ou just pereisted "As el's, and ily, and would readers - ^J2 >.Ji l^=^l-a Z--C' i 1 It' < 'I. t: 1, ■A • >x ■(•■ mv ' . if >v / [ 1 j 1 ■H WZm ' •1, f 4' I / i i « 1 I' V' H') HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE of Sartor know how. "1 ken tlicm a'," said he "Jock a a doctor ul)oot London. 'ranTs a har« ni- scarein kind o' chicP, an' wnats l)<)oks, an' tliat. But Jamie — vons his farm vou see ower v"ndt?r — »' w y Jamie's the luaa o' that f.unily, an' I'm proud to sjiy I ken him. Jamie Carlyle, sir, fee 'A w 1 <■' lit, ( li V < i !' '/» ill ! X h t^ •1 THISTLEDOWN I kon that fouks arena theiiiser.s wht-n tlioy have a dram, air sav rather niair than they wad do if they were sober, sae I oxwxC awa' doiin into the kitchen — Na, the niaistcr never offered to kiss nie ; he wa'^ Qwer modest a man foi* that. "Twa or three days after, our niaister cam"' into the kitchen. 'Betty,' says he. ' Sir,' says I. 'Betty,' says he, 'come upstairs ; I want to speak to ye,' says he. ' Veiy weel, sir,' says I. Sae I went upstairs after him, thinking a' the road that he was gaun to tell me something aboot the feedin' o' the swine, or something like that. But when he tellt me to sit doun, I saw there was something seiious, for he never bid me sit doun afore but ance, an' that was wlian he was gaun to Glasgow Fair. ' Betty,' says he, 'ye ha'e been lang a servant to me,' says he, ' an' a gude an'aia honest servant. Since ye're sae gude a servant, I aften think ye'll mak' a better wife. Ha'e ye ony objections to be a wife, Betty?' says he. 'I dinna ken, sir,' says I; 'a body camia just say hoo they wad like a bargain until they see the article.' 'Weel, Betty,' says he, ' ye're very richt there again. I ha'e had ye for a servant these fifteen years, an' I never knew that I could find faut wi' ye for onything. Ye're care fu', honest, an' attentive. And ' 'Oh, sir,' says I, ' ye aye ])aid me for't, an' it was only my duty.' ' Weel, weel,' says he, ' Betty, that's true '., but then I mean to mak' amends to ye for the evil speculation that Tibby I«angtongue raised about you an' nu', an' ft)rby — the world are taking the same 338 HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE r\ libei-ty ; sae, to stop a' their mouths you an' I sail bo married/ * Veiy weel, sir/ says I ; for what could I say ? " Our maister looks into the kitchen anither day, an' says, 'Betty,' says he. *Sir,' says L 'Betty,' says he, ' I'm gaun to gie in our names to be cried in the kirk, this and next Sabbath.' 'Very weel, sir,' says I. "About anither eight days after this, our maister says to me, ' Betty,' says he. ' Sir,' says I. ' Betty,' says he, ' I think we'll ha'e the waddin' put owre neist Friday, if ye ha'e nae objections.' ' Very weel sir,' says L 'An'ye'll tak' the grey yad, an' gang to the toun on Monday, an' get your bits o' waddin' braws. I ha'e spoken to Mv. Cheap, the draper, an' ye can tak' aff onything ye want, an' please yoursel', for I canna get awa' that day.' 'Very weel, sir,' says I. "Sae I gaed awa' to the toun on Monday, an' bought some wee bits o' things; but I had i)lenty o' claes, an' I couldna think o' bein' extravagant. I took them to the manty-maker to get made.^ "On Thursday nicht our maister says to me— 'Betty,' says he. 'Sir,' says I. 'The morn is our waddin'-day,' says he; 'an' ye maun see that a' thing's prepared for the deimer,' says he, 'an' see everything dune yoursel', says he;' 'for I expect some company, an' wad like to see a'thing feat an' tidy, an' in your ain way,' says he. ' Very weel, sir,' says I. Sae I got everything in readiness. 339 UK .1 ^- , I, r •^f ^?rt^ < ! ■ '♦* W V ii 1^ THISTLEDOWN P I '4 f. <«< 'On Friday momin' our maistcr says to me, 'Betty/ says he. * Sir,' says I. * Betty,' says he, 'gang awa' an' get yoursel' dresstd,' says lie. *F<)r the company will sune Ixj here, an' ye maun be decent. An' ye maun stjiy in the room upstairs,' Siiys he, ' until yeVe sent for,' says he. *Very weel, sir,' says I. But there was sic a great deal to do, an' sjie many grand dishes to prepare for the denner, to the company, that I couldna get awa', an' the hale fouk were come afore I got mysel' dressed. " Our maister cam' dounstairs an' tell't me to go up that instant an' dress myst'l', for tlie minister was just comin' doun the loan. Sae I was obleeged to leave everything to the rest o' the serviuits, an' gang upstjiii-s an' put on my claes. " Wlien I wjis wanted, Mr. Brown o' the Hazelybrae aim' an' took me into the room amang a' tlie grand fouk an' the minister. I wjis maist like to fent, for I never saw sae mony grand fouk thegether a' my born days afore, an' I ditlna ken whaur to look. At hust our maister took me by the hand, an' I was greatly relieved. The minister said a great deal to us, but I canna mind muckle o't ; an' then he said a prayer. After this I thocht I should hae been worried wi' fouk kissin' me ; mony ane shook hands wi' me I hiid never seen afore, an' wished me much joy- "After the ceremony was owre, I slippit awa' doun into the kitchen again amang the lave o' the servants, to see if the denner was a' richt. But in a maument's 340 HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE time, our maistor aim' into the kitchen, an' says— * Betty,' says he. *Sir,' says I. 'Ik'ttv,' says he, 'ye mauii consider that yeVe ime lunger niy serxant, but my wife,' says he, ' an' therefore ye must come upstairs an' sit amang the rest o' the company,' says he. ' Veiy weel, sir,' says L Sae what c«uJ{l I do but gang upstaii-s to the lave o' the company, an' sit doun amang them ? Sae, Jean, that was a' that was about my coui-tship an' inai'riage." li. "M r ■ f 1 ■■I- ■ m ri! V\ vu 341 ; .■ .^ f 11 If'- ■fi I THISTLEDOWN CHAPTER Xni HUMOURS OK SCO'ITISH Si;i'KKSTITION IT is consistent with the earnestness of the Scottish chuiHcter that, so long as IhehghtofintelHgence w.'is but f'eehly diffused in the land, tln;ie should be a strong tendeney towards supeistitious imagining in the minds of the j)eo|)le. For superstitious notions, be it noted, have not Ix-en wont to spring so nuuh out of listless as out of restless ignorance. Kaeh notion and theory they embrace, however wild and wide of the mark, has been a guess at the truth. In the dim days of the Middle Ages, ere yet the sunshine of science had lit the hilltops of our country, what- soever came within the living experience of the people, and wjis not palpable to sense, wjis readily attributed to supernatinal agency, good or bad — generally the latter. Thus it was that the lu'avens above, and the earth beneath, and even the watei"s under the earth, became peopled with fairies, brownies, hobgoblins, waterkelpies, warlocks, ghosts, and witches. The powers attributed to these — each monster and spirit in its place — afforded to the popular mind an explanation of what, in the circumstances, wjis other- wise inexplainable, and thus, so long as ignorance abounded, superstition did much more alsound. As the workl has gixjwn older the people have, happily, 349 V SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION \' < e Scottish itelligcucc loiild be a if^iniiij; in IS notions, > niiuli out u'h notion id wide of I. In the e sunshine itry, what- ce of the lus reach ly or bad — le hi'avens le \vatei"S brownies, 1 w itches, jnster and r mind an ,vas other- ignorance Dund. As , happily, grown wiser. The grosser supei-stitions of Scotland liavo entirely disappeared. No living mortal outsi„e extra met.ons^a con„„o>, „„d em-etnal test was to hold ho j„„„.ster over the fire. If it was a changeling " ""."''' '''""I'P-'"' "1. the lun, will, a "pud- If not ,t would remain, pe.haps to be l,u.'„ed; and be ..ore fractions than bero,.e. .SHU the,^ was -t,.,fac't,o„ ,1 ,t .,t,„Hl the test. Various superstitious .ite we,'e practised by the skilly wives f„ p,,.vent cates ,,,phe. The child i„„„ediately after bh'th .n.Kht be tunrf three tin,es contra-'/to the cou,^ ot the sun. The bc.l containing the n,other and 34.5 t.' V, I ''I ^'f 'I- i. h 1 J THISTLEDOWN child niiglit be drawn to the centre of the floor, where the nurse would wave an opi n Bible over them three times — once for each person in the Holy Trinity — and adjure the evil spirits, by the name of all tliat WJ13 sacri'd, to di'piirt to whatever place they came from. Ihe sian, there was good luck for the child ; if fair, the reverse would hap|)en to it. Connected with this practice, Dr. Classon tells an amusing story. An English Duke had arrived in Gliisgow on a Sunday, and was wandwing in the streets during the time of afternoon sei-vice, when a young woman came up to him with a child in her arms, and ofi'ered him a piece of brear ill iianiienti; i keep the ■luittc'd to le hour ot" ies should iiious then invariably 1(1 she took i-apped up, lild's dre^is, passer she irst-foot"'"' cross the man, there erse would son tells an arrived hi nsr in the vice, when lild in her ind cheese. SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION In vain he proti-sti-d that he did not know what she meant- that he had nothin t of all, in i-espect to date, the fateful month of May had to be a\ ;»i{le(l. If the "send,"''' or bridal party, in going to or fiom the manse, met a funeral prf)cession or a hearse on the way, it was a bad omen. When the bride entered her house for the first time, she had to be careful to step over the threshold, if she would be lucky. An oaten cake, or a cake of shortbread, was broken over her head, usually by the mother of the bridegroom, as she entertd. In some instances the bread \\ius ])lacc'd on a plate and thrown over her head. If the plate was broken, so much the better luck. Then the links of the crook were put round her neck, and she was led to the meal girnal and Y 347 ' ■ i .1! 1 •' '♦» ' I ti Vii:^ to \ .7 THISTLEDOWN conipt'Uwl to tuke up n haiulfiil of iiieal. On the luorniiif^ after niJUTia<;t', in some parts of the country, the youth of Ixith .sexes, or perliaps females, would assemble out of dooi-s, aloui; with the newlv-marricd couple. A basket would be transmitted among them, and giadually filled with stones until it reached the bridegroom, when it would be suspetided from his neck. On receiving some more tulditional loiul, his affectionate helpmate, to testify lier sense of the CJU'esses he liad lavislied on her, would cut the cord and relieve him of the oppiessive burden. The j)er- son who declined to comply with the latter ceremony would have come under a certain degree of discredit. Liable at all times to the malevolent inffuences of the " Evil Eye,"" in addition to the many other ills already indicated, lunnan life in the olden time was a serious matter. If a persoTi died suddeidy, or w;is laid aside by any sickness or disease, which the doctor might not readily comprehend the nature of, he was declared to have fallen the victim to an evil eye. When a death occuii-ed the corpse was dressed and laid out in the manner still in ])ractice, but with this addition — the friends laid on the breast of the deceased a wooden platter containing a small (juantity of salt and earth, separate and umnixed — the earth an emblem of the corru[)tible Inxly ; the salt an emblem of the immortal spirit. No fire was allowed to be lit in a room where a corpse was kept ; and it was reckoned so ominous for a dog or a cat to pass over it, that the poor animal was at once laid by the 348 SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION heels jumI killed without nurcy. If u m()uniei'*s tear t';ills on the shroud, the spirit of the deee.isfd nii^ht in c(»n.se{juence l)e so distuilx'd that it could not rest in the ^rave. Dining the several nights that inter- vened l)etwixt death and interment, the friends and neighl>ours took their turn at "sittin' up wV the corpse,"" and were provided with a candle, a liible, and a bottle of whisky. This practice wjis known as the "Lvki'wake,'" and its main purpose was to protect the Ixxly of the deceased person from supernatural interference. If a funeral cortege proceeded to the kirkyard in an irregular and straggling manner, it wjis acce{)ted as a portent that there would ere long be another funeral in tiie same family. In a village in AlK-rdeenshire, we read in the Statistical Account^ where it was l)elieved that the ghost of the person last buried kept the gate of the churchyard till relieved by the next victim ot deatii, a singular scene frequently occurred when two burials were to tiike place in one churchyard on the same day. Both parties hurried forward Jis fast as possible to consign their respective friend in the til's*', place to the dust. If they met at the gate, the dead were thrown down till the livini; decided by blows whose ghost should be condenmed to porter it. Suicides were denied the right of Christian burial, and were interred either within the crossing of two public roads, with a stake driven through the body to hold it down, or were deposited in the march or ditch dividing two lairds' lands — as in the case of 349 Hi '\ { v-( THISTLEDOWN f i 1 "Jenny Nc'ttU's," tlio hcroiiu! of tlu- old hou^ -jukI hftd H liu<;o cuirn of stones raised over tlie spot tor the sunie purpose of protection. (iliosts, of course, were numerous enou^li, anrl tliere WHS little need to nmke reekless nddilions to tlieir number. The flouting Ivill/ids were studded with tliem, and eueh district hud its tides of ghostly horror. Amonj^ the f^hosts of national celebrity there wtis " Pearlin"' clean,'' of whom the traditional catch runs — " () Pcnrlin' Jenn ! () IVarlin' Jean ! Slu- lumiils tlie hoiisi', sliu liaiiiits tlie preen. And glowers on us a' wi' her wufH-at eeii." "In my youth," says Mr. Chai-les Kirkpatrick Sharpc, "Pearlin"" Jean was the ni(»st remarkable j^liost in Scotland, and my teiioi* vhen a child. Oiu* old nurse, Jenny lilackadder, Iiad been a servant at Allanbank, and often hiard her rustling in silks up and down stairs and along the passages. She never sii.'v her, but her husband did. She was a I'Vench woman, whom the first Baronet of Allanbank, then Mr. Stuart, met with at Paris during his tour to finish his education as a gentleman. Some p>eople said she was a nun ; in which case she must have been a Sister of Charity, as she appears not to have been confined to a cloister. After some time young Stuaii; either becanie faithless to the lady, or was suddenly recalled to Scotland by his parents, and had got into his carriage, at the door of his hotel, when his Dido unexpectedly made her appearance, 350 SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION find, sti'j)|)iii|^ on tliu foiv-wlu-cl of tlu' ccmch to (uldrrss licr lovir, he ordi rid tlic poHtillion to drive on, till' coiist'cjurncL' of which uns tlmt the ludy fh would be induced to give chase — and many besides. One of " I^dy Greensleeves'" appearances was mercifully opportune. In a lone 351 'I i 1 i: li- M !■. Vii \. .^\ w.' i < Ih m I m i J! " THISTLEDOWN lioiise on the (.'state of lIuiitiji