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THISTLEDOWN

ppp"^

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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,

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THISTLEDOWN

A HOOK OF SCOTCH HUMOUR

CHARACTER, FOLK-LORE

STORY & ANECDOTE

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

•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 w<us ivtnaikabic for three things^
S.ngs, Sennons, ;v ' Shihings. .vnd wliilst it may
not be dispured that si ,„. has enormous and ever-
increasing store of these three good things— and
th/it, moreover, slae loves ilieni all— there is a fourth
(HiHlity of her m.-Miy -sided nature wh?ch is more
distinctly characteristic of Auld Caledoru'a and her
people, and that is the general possession of th-
faculty of original humour. Not one in ten thous/uid
of the Scottish people may be able to produce a good
song, or a good sermon ; not one in twenty thousand
"f th(«m .nay be able to "gather meikle gear and
hand it weel thegither-^ but eveiy second Scotsnm,»
IS a born humourist. Humour is part and parcel of
his very being. He may not live without it^may
not breathe. Tonsecjuently, it is found breaking
<>nt anjongst us in the most unlikely as well a^ in
the most likely places. It blossoms in the solemn

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

PREFACE

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

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

■^
"<

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

122

149

169

195

V.'V.

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

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

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

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

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

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

■%

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

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;'"

.^^

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, <m),"" (yes, wool).

Customer—" A' oo ? " (all ^^ool ?).

Shopman — " Ay, a' oo " (yes, all wool).

Customer — " A' a'e oo ? " (all one wool ?).

Shopman — " Ou, ay, a' a'e oo " (oh, yes, all one
wool).

A dialogue in vowel sounds — surely a thing
unique in literature !

ossipin*
[luiigry
needs a

;" "A
in house
look to
"Ik'tter
e comes
»» "Ilka

« Liizy
!, a guid
inmn ;
" "The
le tane's
lese give

1 its iise
tween a

xample.

ng at a

(W(M)I?).

all one

thing

THE SCOTTISH TONGUE

In his Scotch vei^ion of the Ps^dms — "frae
Hebrew intil Scottis'^ — the late Rev. Dr. Ilutely
Waddell, of Glitsgow, gives nuuiy striking ilhi^tni-
tions ol" the force and Ix'auty of icnoniatic S<*otch.
Ilia la:igiiuge partakes rather much of the antitjne
form to be readily perceptible to the present genera-
tion, but its purity is unijuestioiiable, and itslx^auty
and power inexpressible in other words than his o\vn.
Let us quote the familiar SlJrd Psfdm.

"The Lord is my herd ; na want »d fa* me.

" He louts me till lie amanggi'een Iiowes ; Ileairts
mo atowre by the lown waters.

"He waukeus my wa'gaen saul ; Ho \vei>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.

r-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.

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

* -

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

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,

» I'J

lf<

.' <

\ 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

'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

♦ 1

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

(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,"

THISTLEDOWN

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

''■■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
<i;eneral cultivation than the ciu'rent geneiation of
Scotch folk seem disposed to award it. Lord Cock-
burn pronounced it " the sweetest and most expre.ssive

I to shew
ftl beauty,
xpression
lar speech
he thistle
:>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

THISTLEDOWN

: ^

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

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 gO<Kl

ialects of
listinct, a
1, " (liffer-
Linciation,
"(Is, which
inflexions
e the days
Icotch,"''' as
isidered as
■ustic vul-
ixuagje of
[lorn, and
rs. It is
common
and with
idividuaU
(Ugh it be

tnio that, in later times, it has hirn in some moasui"o
lad aside by the more ambitious and aspiring ot* the
present generation, it isstill recollected evni by them
as the familiar language of their ciiildh<MHl, ami of
thofMj who were the earliest obji'cts of their love and
veneration. It is connected in tlu'ir imagination not
only with that olden time which is uniformly con-
cci vt>d as more j)ure, lofty, and simple than the pres<nt,
but also with all the soft and bright colours of
nMnemlx're<l childhood and domestic affection. All
its phrases conjure up images of schmil-day irmocence
and spoi-ts, and frieiuLships which have no pattern in
succeetling years."

♦1

'1.^

'l1

li H

THISTLEDOWN

CHAPTER n

•n

-I

i! I

CHARACTKRISTICS OK SCOTCH HIMOUR

VARIOUS writei's have attempted to define
Scotch humour, but it is a difficult task, and
in all my reading of the subject I do not remember to
have ever seen a veiy satisfactory analysis of the subtle
quantity. The famous Sydney Smith did not admit
that such an element obtained in our "puir cauld
countiy." "Their only idea of wit which prevails
<x"casionally in the North," said he, "and which,
under the name of 'wut,' is so infinitely distressing
to people of good taste, is laughing innnoderately at
stated invervals." Further to this, the same sublime
authority declared that it would require a surgicfil
operation to get a joke well into a Scotch undei'stnud-
ing. It hivs been presAmied that the witty Canon was
not serious in his remark ; that it was a laboured effort
of his to make a joke. This may be true ; and the
idea of a surgical operation wfis possibly suggested
by feeling its necessity on himself in order to get his
joke out. Be that as it may, but for the fact that
the genial Charles Lamb, curiously, entertained a
somewhat similar notion on the subject, the rude
apothegm of the Rev. Sydney Sn)ith would never
have misguided even the most hopelessly opaque of

3«

define

ttvsk, and
ember to
he subtle
lot admit
air cauld

1 prevails
d which,
istressing
.M-ately at
L' subhme
I surgiail

lei-stand-
lanon was
red effort
and the
siiLjijested
to get his
fact that
rtaincd a
the rude
lid never
opaque of

SCOTCH HUMOUR

his own countrymen. No humour in Scotch folk !
No humour in Scotland ! 'i'liere is no country in the
world that hiis pioduced so much of it. Of no other
country under th? sun can it l)e so tiuly said that
humour is the counnon inhentance of the people.
Much of the kind of humour that drives an English-
man into an ecstacy of delight, would, of course, only
tend to make a Scotsman sad ; but that is no evidence
that the Scotch are lacking in their perceptions of
the humorous. It only shows that "some folks are
no ill to please." " The Cockney must have his puns
and small jokes," s<ays Max O'llell. " On the stage
he delights in jigs, and to really please him the best
of actors have to become rivals of the mountebanks
at a fair. A hornpipe delights his heart. An actor
who, for an hour together, pn tends not to be able
to keep on his hat, sends him into the seventh heaven
of delight. Such performances make the Scotch smile
— but with pity. The Scotsman has no wit of this
soi-t. In the matter of w it he is an epicuiv, and only
appreciate:, dainty food." In so far as the above
<[U..tahi i ;:|;plies to the denizens of the "Nortli," it
i.s jx.rfectly true. In such circumstances the Scotch
viil "laugh innnoderately at statt.'d intervals," but
the luighs will be like ango'./ '-"ts, " few and far
Ix tween."

Superticially reganled, Scotlnnd is a hard-featured
land ; yet Sancb folk r.re esM-ntially humorous. Do
not go to the places of public anmsement— to the
theatres and nuisic halls— ',.>•. .-licularly in the larger

3'>

I i

'■f \

THISTLEDOWN

) '

■

, 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

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■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<l instance of the native
wit and humour : —

"Jock," cried a farmer's wife to her cowhei-d,
"come awa' in to your parritch, or the flees 'ill be
droonin' themsel's in your milk bowl."^

"Nae fear o' that," was Jock's roguish reply.
"They'll wade through."

" Ye scoondrel," cried the mistress, indignantly,
"d'ye mean to sjiy that ye dinna get eneuch milk .'*"

" Ou, ay," said Jock, " I get plenty o' milk for a'
the parritch."

The colloquy was lichly humorous, and at the
same time sublimely practical. The same may be
said of the following : —

During the time of the great Russian War a
countryman accepted the "Queen's shilling," and
\ ery soon thereafter was sent to the front. But he
hatl scarcely time to have receivetl his "baptism of
fire" when he turned his back on the scenes of
carnage, and inn:iediatel)- struck of in a bee line for
H distant haven ov safety. A mounted officer, infer-
no

THISTLEDOWN

cepting his retreat, demanded to know where he was
going.

"Whaur am I gaun?" said he. "Ilame, of course;
man, thisisawfu' wark; they're just kilha'^aneanither
ower there."

A brother countryman took a different view of the
same, or a sinular situation. Just before his regimen t
entered into an engagement with the enemy, he was
heard to pray in these terms : — " (), I^ord ! dinna be on
oor side, and dinna I)e on the titherside, but just stand
ajee frae baith o' us for an oor or twa, an' ye'U see the
toosiest fecht that ever ^\ as fochen."" What a fine,
rough hero was there !

Speaking of pra}ing prior to entering into engage-
ments, recalls another good and equally representative
anecdote. It is told of two old Scottish matrons.
They were discussing current events.

" Eh, woman ! " said one, " I see by the papers
that oor sodgers have been victorious again."

" Ah, nae fear o*" oor soclgei-s," replied the other.
*' They'll aye be victorious, for they aye pray afore they
engage wi' the enemy."

" But do you no think the French 'ill pray too ? "
questioned the first speaker.

"The French pray ! " sneered her friend. " Yatterii T
craturs ! Wha wad ken m hat they said ? "

What a charmingly innocent auld wife ! Surely
it wa. this same matron who once upon a time
entered the village groceiy and asked for a pound
of candles, at the same time laying down the price

c he was

f course;
e anither

iw of the
regiment
)r, he was
ina be on
ust stand
11 see the
tat a fine,

o engage-

esentative

matrons.

le papers

;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

i.'

h''

> ".\.

THISTLEDOWN

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<ly ! No doubt she gave expression to a
thought that had fors<ime time been having a promi-
nent place in her mind. As Tom Moore reminds us,
in the midst of a serious poem, " We nmst all dine,"
and if the bread-winner has been laid aside for a time,
the means of subsistence are sometimes difficult to
obtain, and when " supply " is wholly cut off, a de-
crease in " demand " is sometimes not unwelcome.

A splendid insttmce of the matter-of-fact view of
things celestial frequently taken by the Scotch mind
is in that story which Dean Ramsay tells of the old
woman who was dying at Hawick. In this Boixler
seat of tweed manufacture the jxjople wear wooden-

-which make a clankinff noise on

soled boots — clogs-

.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

THISTLEDOWN

bcmiU', which is ahiiost e(|imlly nioving. SamideiN
Uiis a violiin to chronic usthmM, and out; <liiy, wiiilst
iti the actof o{K!uing a j^nive, wussci/cd v illi a vi«)U'nt
lit »)t' coughinj^. The mini' tou.ird.s whom Saun-
ders bore httle nllectioii, ii .o simx' iinie entering
the kirkyurd, came up to the old man as he was
leaning over his spade wiping tlio tears from his
eyes, and said, "Tlmts a wvy had cougli you've got,
Saundirs.""

"Ay, it's no very gude," was the (hy response, " hu<
there's a hantle foiik lyin' round alxxit ye that wudbe
gey glad o't."

Speaking ot* l)eadles reminds mi- of another good
illustration of the "practicality," if I may dare to
coin a word, of the Scottish mind. A country beadle
had had repeated cause tt> 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

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

\m '

it'

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

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 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

1, made
[•native;
e to the
le crafty
resente<l
1(1 went
iiey the

le above.
[ maids,"
ain Sun-
w service
y thither
lal small
kI not to
he neces-
ould pass
)e able to
,(l out on
les — half-
ly pieces,
each and
day the}'
Ithey had

m needna
; I could

lined and
for there

SCOTCH HUMOUR

was naebody stannin'' at the })Iate, so we just slippit
in an' saved the bawbees,"

Now that is just the sort of anecdote which an
Englishman delights to conunit to memory and retail
in mixed companies of his Scotch and Knglish friends;
and, lest he may have heard that one already — may
have worn it threadbare, indeed — I will tell another
which, if not quite so good, has the advantage of
being not so well known. A Scotchman was once
advised to take shower baths. A friend explained
to him how to fit up one by the use of a cistern and
colander, and Sandy accordingly set to woik and had
the thing done at once. Subsequently he was met
by the friend who had given him the advice, and,
being asked how he enjoyed the bath—

" Man,''' said he, " it was fine. I liked it rale weel,
and kept myser cjuite dry, too.*'

Being asked how he managed to take the shower
and yet remain quite dry, he replied —

" ])od, ye dinna surely think I was sae daft as
stand ablow the water without an umbrella."

That's truly Scotch. So is tlu?. next specimen, as
you will presently perceive. Two or three nights
I)el'ore the advent of a recent Christmas, a Scotch
laddie of ten years old, or so, was sitting examining
very gravely a somewhat ugly hole in the heel of one
of his stockings. At length he looked towai-ds his
niotaer and said-—

" Mither, ye micht gie me a pair o' new
stockin's ? "

',' M

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Ail

THISTLEDOWN

'^i

" So I will, laddie, by and by ; but ye're no sair
needin' new anes yet,"" said his mother.

" Will I get them this week ? "

"Wbat niak's ye sae anxious to hae them this
week?"

" Because, if Santa Claus pits onything into thir
anes it'll fa' oof"

How naturally a Scotsman drops into poetry, too,
will be seen from the following : — •

Mr. Dewar, a shopkeeper in Edinburgh, being in
want of silver for a bank note, went into the shop of
a neighbour of the name of Scott, whom he thus
addressed —

" I say, Master Scott,
Can you change rae a note ? "

^Ir. Scott's reply was —

" Tm no very sure, but I'll see."

'^rhen going into the back-room, he immediately re-
turned and added —

•• Indeed, Mr. Dewar,
It's out o' my power.
For iny wife's awa' wi' the key."

It is by furnishing him with choice and representa-
tive examples that one can best convey to a stranger
a knowledge of the characteristics of our national
humour. So much of it depends often on the quaint-
ness of the Scottish idiom, that it defies explanation,
and must be seen, or better still, be heard, to be

■i

vou

SCOTCH HUMOUR

lo sair

m this

ito thir

:ry, too,

being in
shop of
he thus

iately re-

jresenta-
a stranger

national
le quaint-
planation,

rd, to be

undei'stood. This course I have pursued in the present
paper; and the examples deduced, I think, fairly
denionstrate the strong substratum of practical com-
luonscnse which underlies, and yet manifests itself
in, the lighter elements of the Scottish character,
frequently making humour where pathos was meant
to be. Take a few more : —

Tlie wife of a small farmer in Perthshire some time
ago went to a chemist's in the "Fair City"" with two
prescriptions — one for her husband, the other for her
cow. Finding she had n(it enough of money to pay
for both, the chemist asked her which she would take.

" Gie me the stuff for the coo," said she ; " the mom
will do weel eneuch for Aim, puir body. Gin he were
to dee I could sune get another man, but Fm no sun.>
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-'

THISTLEDOWN

" 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

sir

SCOTCH HUMOUR

AVillie Wilson, as he shook the rain from his plaid
aiul t<M)k his accustomed .seat hy the inn parlour lire.
"I litard them at it as I cum"' by just noo."

^^ Ay, ay; there's aye souu; fun gaun' on at the
SoutarsY' said another of the company, with a laugh.

"Fun ? I shouldn't think there's nuich /'nn in those
disgraceful family disturbances," said the sciiool-
niaster.

"Aweel, it's no' so vera bad, after a'," said the
other, who had h'ls share of matrimonial strife. " Ve
see, when the wife gets in her tantrums she aye
throws a plate or brush, or maybe twa or three, at
Sandy's head. Gin she hits him she\i glwl, and gin
she misses him hc^s gled ; so, ye see, there's aye some
pleasure to a'e side or the ither."

The Laiid of Balnamoon, riding past a high, steep
bfuik, stopj)ed opposite a hole in it, and said, " John^
I siiw a brock gang in there."

" Did ye ? " said John ; " w ill ye hand my horse,

SU'i

" Certainly," said the Laird, and away rushed John
for a spade.

After digging for half an hour, he came back nigh
speechless to the Laird, who had regarded him
musingly.

" I canna find him, sir," said John.

"Deed," said the Laird, very coolly, "I wad hae
^\ondered if ye liad, for it's ten years an' mair sin' I
siiw him gang in."

On one occasion, whi-n the gallant Highlanders

I '

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THISTLEDOWN

were stationed at Gibraltar, Sandy IMacnab was ser-
geant of the guard, and in due coui'se of duty had
sent his corporal to make the last relief before four
o'clock in the morning. Whilst proceeding to one of
the outlying posts the corporal missed his footing, fell
over the cliff, and was killed. Meantime Sergeant
Alacnab luul been filling up the usual gufird rejxjrt,
prepaiatoiy to dismounting. Now, at the foot of
the form on which such reports are made out there
is a printed inquiry — "Anything extraordinary
occurred since mounting guard ?"

Macnab, unaware of the accident to his corporal,
filled the (juery space up with the word " Nil^"" and,
having no spare copy of the form, sent this in to the
oixlei'ly-room to take its chance. When the C'olonel
and Adjutant attended in the orderly-room at ten
o'clock, learned of the mishap, and read Macnab's
i-eport, the latter was peremptorily ordered to appear
befoie them.

" Macnab," cried the Colonel, in a rage, " what the
devil do you mean by filling up your guard report in
this way ? You say * Nothing extraordinary occurred
since mounting guard,' and yet your poor comrade
fell over the cliff and wtxs killed."

Sandy, finding himself in a fix, pulled himself
together, and after a moment or two of delilieration
answered, coolly, " Weol, sir, I dinna see onything
veiy extraoi*dinar' in that. It would hae been some-
thing very extraordinar' if he hadna been killed ; he
fell fowr hunder feet 1 "

■5f

SCOTCH HUMOUR

r'thing

In Mr. Bftirie's Little Mmistery a discussion takes
plfice in tho villH«j;e Parlianiont as to wlK'ther it is
possible for a wonuin to ivt'uso to marry a minister.
" I oner," said Snecky Hobart, " knew a widow who
did. His name was Samson, and if it had Ix'en Ti .n-
son she would liae ta'en him. Ay, you may look,
but it's tiue. Her name was Tunibull, and she had
another gent after her, named Tibbets. She couldna
make up lier mind atween them, and for a while she
just keeped them dangling on. Ay, but in the end
she took Tibbets. And what, think you, wjus her
reason } As you ken, thae grand folk hae their initials
on their spoons and nichtgowns. Ay, weel, she thocht
it would be mair handy to take Tibbets, l)ecau.se if
she had taV-n the minister, the T^s would have to be
chiinged to S's. It was thochtfit' o' /j^r."

Our next two specimens show how waggish the
Scotch can be.

A farmer, returning from a Northern tryst, jiccom-
panied by his servant Rate, not many yeai-s ago,
halted for refreshment at the Inn of Glamis, where,
meeting with a number of friends, a jolly party was
soon formed. Under the cheeritig hospitality of the
gude wife of the inn they cracked their jokes and told
their taU's, till at length the farmer proposed that
his attendant. Pate, should enhven the meeting with
a song. One of the pai-ty, who professed to have an
estimate of the shepherd"'s vocal abilities, snccringly
replied, " AVhaur can Pate sing ? "

" ^Vhat d'ye say ? " answered the farmer. " Can

•'i.

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THISTLEDOWN

I'i

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

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

SCOTCH HUMOUR

conifKuiy. "Ah, weel, sir," replied the laird, as he
emptied his glass, "I wa« nnickle imj)ressed wV a I
saw — nuiekle inipresse<l ! But the thing abune a"* that
impressed nie niaistwas niyain insignilieance. Ix)8h,
banker, I wad strongly advise you to gang ; it would
do you a vast amount o' guid, sir ! "

The next example affords the promise of an abun-
dant hanest of humour off* tlie rising generation of
Scotsmen.

A little boy, whom we shall call Johnnie, just be-
cause that is his name, was not very long since
eiuployetl as message-boy to a grocer in a small
country town in the west, said grocer being an ardent
advocate and sup|)orter of the Conservative party in
the Sbite. One morning Johnnie was an hour or so
late in turning out for duty, and on entering was
piomptly interrogated by his master as to the cause.

"The cat's had kittlins this niornin'," asseverated
the lad, assuming a look of gi'eat earnestness ; " four
o' them, an' they're a' Conservatives/'*

" Get in bye and tidy up that back shop," said the
shopkeeper gruffly, not at the moment in a mood to
enquire fully into the extraordinary feline phenome-
non. One day, nearly a fortnight afterwards, the

* By the simple transposition of the words *' CoMSt-rvatives "
and " Leeberals " the politics of this story may be adapted to
suit any select company or association of individuals in these
realms, as by the same practice I have seen it made to serve
the interests of various Liberal and Conservative newspapers
since I first printed it in the People's Journal some years ago.

\s-

lit'

1-: ■

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.11

THISTLEDOWN

following seijuel added itself, however, and thci*e was
a |H;rfect understanding established. A connnercial
traveller, who is also a true-blue Tory, callwi at the
.shop, and was discussing with the grocer the chances
of victory or failure to their party in an approaching
bye-election. Said the gi'ocer, " Our party is gaining
strength in the country, of that I am convince<l, and
with reason ; why, my niessjige-boy was telling me
recently that his mothei-'s cat has had kittens — four
of them — and they are all Conser\'atives.'" The
traveller laughed, as only travellers who are antici-
pating an oi'der can laugh. When Johnnie entered
the premises with his Ixvsktl on his arm and a tune
in his mouth.

" Hillo, Johmiiei"" exclaimed the connnercial,
"and so your cat has hml kittens, has she ? Eh?"

"Av," replied Johnnie, "four o' them."

"And all Conservatives, too, I believe ?" remarked
the traveller.

" Na," sjiid Johnnie : " they'i-e Leeberals."

"Liberals 1 you told me a fortnight ago they were
Consenatives," intei-j)osed the master.

" Ou, ay ; of course," returned Johnnie, with the
utmost gravity. "They were Conservatives yon
time, but they're seem noo!''''

Just one more here. T^iic obbler in a little

town in the North ■ jrthy old soul, as it would
appear, whose cu iiaa been ^ • many yeare to

hammer and whist, from pioi-n to night in his little
shop, and to discharge bot i functions so lustily as to

SCOTCH HUMOUR

?V were

bo rn-sily heard by the jMUsst'i-s-by in th(! striK't. One
(lay not long since the minister, hapjjening to |wtss,
missed the whistling ^icconipminient to the measured
click on the la|Kstone, and looked in to ast^ertain the
cause. "Is all well Mith you, Saundere?" he aske<l.
" Na, na, sir ; it's far fVae bein' a' weel wi' nic. The
sweep's gane an' ta'en the sliop ower my head."
"Oh, that's bad news, indeed,'"" respondwl the
minister, "but I think you might see your way
out of the difficulty s(K)n if, as I always urge in
cases of emergency, you would make the matter a
subject of earnest prayer." Saundei-s promised to
do this, and the preacher departed. In less than
a week he returnetl, and found the old cobbler
hnnnncnng and whistliiig away in his old familiar
" might and main " fashion. " Well, Saunders,
how is it now?" "Oh, it's a' richt, minister,"
was the reply. " I did as ye tell'd me, an' — the
^sweep's deid.^^

« \

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THISTLEDOWN

CHAPTER III

HUMOL'R OK Ol.l) SCOTCH DIVINES

'"T^HK late Loixl Neaves, himself a man of a genial,
X humorous njituie, wn.s wont to complain pknis-
antly of his friend Dean Ramsay i'ov having drawn
so many specimens of Scottish humour from the
sayings and doings of the native clergy. But the
worthy Dean, to employ a figure of his own recording,
simply "biggifs dyke wi' the feal at fit o't;" in
other words, he gathered most grain from the field
which had produced the most abundant crop — the
field of clerical life and work. Your typical pastor,
it is true, has not to any extent been remarkable as
a humourist — the revei>ie 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,

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."

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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

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,

tu .

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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

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

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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

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<l shall be punished, and
that right early ^

A certain divine — or perhaps we should say an
t//t -certain divine — preaching a sermon from the
parable of the prodigal son, took tvs his text the
words, '• And when he came to himself," and gave a
reading of the passage at once unique and onginal.
" We have here, bretlnoii," said lie, '* an instance of
the woiiderfid depth of meaning there is in Scripture.
We see how low this unprincipled young man had
fallen. 'When he came to himself — ^what docs it
mean ? Well, look at home. What do we do when
our money's gone and we've no credit ? What do
we tiun to? The pawnshop. So did he. Fii*st,
his coat vould go ; he might live a week on that.
Then his waistcoat ; that wouldn't serve him long.
Lastly, his sliiii would follow ; and then — ah, then,
my friends, he came to himself ! He couldn't pawn
himself, and so he went home to his father."

The older style of preaching wa.s often wonderfully
graphic as well as anmsing. Preaching from that
text in Ecclesiastc^ — " Dead flies cause the ointment
of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savour ;

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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

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

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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

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 nee<l of refreshment,
pi'oposed that he should take his tea before engtiging

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in tveuise, ami said .she would MK)n have it irjidy.
Mr. Dimlojrs reply was, "I avf tak' my tea btttcr
when my nark's dnin'. Ill jii^t Ik; ^aun on. \v.
can hiiif^ the pan on, an' lea tin? door ftjec, an** I'll
draw to a close when I hear the ham fi//lin\*"
With flu* frankness so characteristic of him, this
divine did not hesitate occasionally to intitnatc liow
ni^reeable certain presents would he to himself anrl
his better-half. Accordingly, < ii a further " vi.si tui-
tion " occasion, and while at a *' denner-tea," as he
called it, at the close of a hard day's laboiu", he kept
incessantly pi-aising the hau), and stated that Mrs.
Dunlop at home was as fond of ham as he was. Ilis
hostess took tlie hint, and kindly offered to send
Mrs. Dunlop the present of a ham. "It's unco kind
o' ye— unco kind o' ye," replied the divine; " but I'll
no put ye to sae nmckle trouble. I'll just tak' it
hame on the hoi-se afore me." On leaving, he
mounted, and the ham was put into a sack, but
some ditliculty was experienced in getting it to lie
properly. liis inventive genius, however, soon cut
tlie (iordion knot. "I think, mistress," said lie,
"a cheese in the ither end o' the poke would mak' a
grand balance." The gudewife could not resist an
appeal so neatly put, and, like another John (iilpin,
the crafty and faci'tious divine moved awav with
his " Imlance true." Mr. Dunlop's penchant for
"presents" "was, of course, well known, and on one
occasion at lejist biought ])im into i-ather an awkward
pretlicament. While engagetl in offenng up prayer

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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-cliokf<l tluck whirh lie had "gottt-u in a
present," and whose nt'ck he had l)een sijueezing
all tlie time to prevent its crying.

On one occasion two irreverent young fellows
detennined, as they ])ut it, "to biigU (confound)
the minister." Therefore, coming up to him in the
High Street of Dumfiies, they accasted him with
much a|)p4irent solemnity, saying —

" Mr. Dunlop, hae ye heard the news r*"

" What news ? "

" Oh, the <leirs dead."

"Is he.''" quoth Mr. Dunlop: "then T maun pray
for twa faitherless bairns."

On another (K'CJtsion, Mi-. Dimlop met, with char-
acteristic humour, an attempt to j>lay 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

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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

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

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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

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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<ld the day." The Doctor heard, but
took no notice of it at the time; but when it (Mime

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to the turn of this student to deliver a discourse, ho
was invited to the pulpit with these words from the

professor — "Conieawa, Mr. , and we'll see wha's

got the best redd wig."

Dr. Macfarlane, in his biogiaphy of Dr. Lawson,
«iive> 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

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,

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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,

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THISTLEDOWN

" 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

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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

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THISTLEDOWN

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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.

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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<r's Tail," "Captain
I'^ra/er's Nose," etc., but always to the order of
uproai'ious fun. It is told of Norman that when
walkini^ down Buchanan Street, (ihisirow, arm-in-arm
with a merchant frii-nd of the West, one day, the
two were passed, first by tlie Most Rev. Bisho[)
Irvine, of Argyll, then by the Bishop's valet,
following a few steps behind him ; the one shoii
and sll-m and the other long and thin, but bt)th
di'i'ssed clerically and seeming nuich alike. They
each saluted the j)opular minister of the Barony us
they passed, whereupon his merchant friend turned
to him and entpn'red, "Who was the man with the
choker on, walking behind the Bishoj), who saluted
you just now, Doctor.''"

"Oh," said Norman, "that's the 'raid of the
sha<low of death."

When Norman, not yet gr'cat, began his ministry
in the Ay I'shire parish of Loudoun, among his
parishioners were some rather notable freethinkei-s,
whose views the young divine, a\ ith the energy and
earnestness characteristic of him, thought it proper

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THISTLEDOWN

to assail ami denounce. Naturally this caused a
pood deal of commotion and excitement in what
had hitherto been rather a sleepy parish. One of
his cldeis. Mho thought his minister's zeal outran
his discretion, one day thus addressed him — " IVIr.
Macle<Kl, hoo is it we ne'er heard o' unbelieveis
hereaboot till ye cam' among us ? "" ** John,'' Siiid
the ready minister, "saw ye ever a wasp's biker"
" Hoot aye, aften." " Weel, lat them be, and they'll
lat you be ; but put your stick through the heart of
it, and it'll be anither story.'"

No minister wa.s ever moi-e beloved by his people
than Mas Dr. Macleod by the inhabitants of the
Barony parish. There is a story Mhich reveals this
with rare effect, and M-hich the great Norman himself
told M'ith nmch gusto. A dissenting minister in t^"
district had been asked to come to a house in the
High Street, and pray with a man M'ho Mas thought
to be at the point )f death. He kneM- by the name
and address given that the people Mere not connectetl
M'ith his congregation. Still, he Ment off at once as
desired. When he had read and prayed — ha^ing
previously noted how tidy everything looked about
the room, and Ixnng puzzled by the thought of a
family of such respectable appearance having no
church connection — he turned to the Mife and
mother of the household, and askefl if they Mere
not connected M-ith any C'hristian body in the city ?

" On, ay," she replied, " Me're members o' the
Barony."

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OLD SCOTCH DIVINES

" You are members of the Barony ! Then why
didn"'t you call in Dr. Macleod to pray with your
husband, instead of sending for me P "

" Ca"" in the gi*eat Dr. Norman Macleod .'' " skirled
the matron, with Uplifted hands. "The man's surely
daft. Dinna ye ken it's a dangemus case o' typhun f "

Norman Macleod, Anthony Trollope, the novelist,
and John Bums of Castle Wemyss, were great friends,
and went together once on a tour in the Highlands.
On arriving at an inn late at night they had supper,
and then told stories, and laughed without stint half
the night through. In the morning an old gentle-
man, who slept in a bedroom above them, complained
to the landlord that he had not been able to sleep
on accoimt of the noise from the party below ; and
iidded that he regrctted that such men should " take
more than was good for them.*"

'* Well,*" replied the landlord, " I am bound to
say there was a good deal of loud talking and
laughing ; but they had nothing stronger than tea
and herrinfffty

" Bless me,"" rejoined the old gentleman, " if that
is so, what would Dr. Macleod and Mr. Burns be
after dinner!''''

" Willie" Andei-son's well-known " three-a-penny"
stoiy is peihaps the very best one which i-umour
persistently attaches to his name. The Doctor hatl
been walking towards John Street Church one
Sunday evening, when it suddenly commenced to
rain, very much to the discomfiture of three well-

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THISTLEDOWN

flivssed young men, who had come out to air their
clothes and to see and be seen, who occupied the
pavement inunediatcly in front of the popular
preacher. " Whafs to be done ? " exclaimeil one ;
"we canna walk the streets in a nicht like this."
"WVre just coniin' on to John Street Kirk,"" re-
marked another, " we"'ll go an* hear Willie Anderson
preachin'.'' The mention of his name caused the
minister to play the part of eaves<lropper for a
moment, during which the young gentlemen made
the discovery that two half-pennies formed the sum
total of their united small cash. This fact, however,
was not to be allowed to bar their entrance to the
place of worship, " for,"" said one, addressing the
other two, " I'll drap in a bawbee, an' he'll drap in
a bawlx^e, an' ycU mairch past the plate atween the
twa o's, an' the thing'll never be noticed." Immedi-
ately this was agreed to, the erratic divine shot past
the objects of his temporaiy attention. AMien they
reached the church door he was standing beside tlie
elder at the plate, and as they marched past a second
later, and the "twa bawbees" wei-e noisily dropped
in, "Thei-e they go," exclaimed the Doctor, " three-
a-penny — three-a-penny ! "

Dr. Andei-son was a man of very fine musical taste,
and one Sabbjith, in John Street, after the first
])salm had been sung, and sung Ixully, he addressc<l
the congregation thus — "Are ye not ashamed of
yourselves for offering up to God such abt)minable
sounds "i If you had to offer up a service of praise

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OLD SCOTCH DIVINES

before Queen Victoria in her presence, then you
would liave met every night, if necessary, for weeks
on end, but as (t(x1 is unseen you evidently think
anything is gcxxl enough for Him. I am ashamwl
of you." Then, talking a pinch of snulF out of his
waistcoat j)ocket, he s<iid solemnly, " Ix't us pray.*"

GilfiUan of Dundee was distinguishe<l for his
largeness of heart and generosity as well Jis for his
erudition and oratorical powei*s. No deserving —
seldom an undeserving — beggar went from his door
unaided. To the poor of his own flock he wjis a
true friend and faithful p;wtor. On a melancholy
(Kcasion, a member of School Wynd Church called
at the manse in Paradise Road to invite the Rev.
George to come and officiate in his clerical capacity
at the funeral. After the usual condolence, the
preacher remaiked to the Jx^reaved, " Ry the by, I
have missed you from the church for some time.
What is wrong.''"

" Well, to be plain with you, Mr. Gilfillan," said
the nmn, " my coat is so bare, I'm aahamed to

come.

The big man innnediately disrobed himself of his
coat, and handing it to the distressed member of his
congregation, said, " There, my man, let me see that
coat every Sabbiith until it becomes bare, and then
call back."

After so delivering himself, the divine returned to
his study in his shirt-sleeves, and being observed by
his worthy spouse, she approached and Jisked vhat

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he had done with his coat. His answer wjw, " I
have just given it to God, my dear."

To coiTc^ct the popular but erroneous idea that the
child receives its name at baptism from the minister,
Gilfillan's practice on occasions of the kind was not
to mention the child's name at all. Once, however,
when the sacrament was asked to be administered,
the parents insisted beforehand that the child's name
should be announced. " Very well," was the reply.
Accordingly, when the little one had lieen with all
due solcnmity received into the Church visible, the
minister, looking abroad over the congregation,
raised his voice and exclaimed, " The parents of this
child wish the congregation to know that its name
is John,"

George was never again asked to announce the
name in a case of bjiptism.

Kindly and generous in the main, that GilfiUan
could l)e severe too when he liked, is well known.
Speaking of the country town of Forfarshire, which
has no very high character for morality, he said,
" Wlien Satan was showing our lA)rd all the king-
doms of the earth, we may be sure he ke]^i his thumb
on Forfar ."

THE PULPIT AND THE PEW

CHAPTER IV

THE ITLPIT AND THE I'KW

WHEN discoiii-sing on the humoui's of old
Scotch divines, I designedly recounted only
such anecdotes as revealed the minister holding the
" heft end " of the argument. In the present paper,
which is wider in its scope, the honoui*s will be
found more equally divided, and the illustiations of
the national character atud hmnour laid under con-
tribution will, on that account, prove not less enter-
taining and amusing.

To "get the better" of the minister has always
meant fame of a kind — largely because of the rarity
of such an achievement — and one can imagine how
the parish would ring during the proverbial "nine
days " w ith the fame of the old dame who, when her
spiritual adviser called at her house to entjuii-e of
her the reason why recently she had suddenly turnwl
"Seceder," retorted, "Weel, ye just took a hale
fortnicht to put Jonah into the whawPs belly, and
anither hale fortnicht to tak"* him oot ; and what
sort o' fool's preachin"' d'ye ca' that ? ""

A Fifeshire laird, in a somewhat similar way,
scoi*ed heavily against the minister of his parish.
The latter had called on the laii-d to solicit a sub-

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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," grunte<l John ; and the broad grin that
sca)npered over the upturntnl faces of the congrega-
tion showed how much the suggestion was deemed
fit. But it is seldom the sleeper is found so 7vide-
axcafiCy if the expression will be allowed. His mental
condition for the time being acts against the ready
exercise of wit, and he is generally caught napping
in a double sense. And, indeed, nuuiy who are
popularly termed *^ pillars of the kirk," might with
ecpial ap[)i-opriateness l)e termed sleepers. In a
certtiin church in Forfai-shire, there wjis no woi-se
offender in this way than the minister's own wife.
One Sabbath she was actually asleep before the text
was given out, a fact which her husband was not
slow to observe. The minister had a quiet humour
of his own ; and the passage chosen for treatment
that day' had more than its original meaning to
many present, when, "fixing his glassy eye" on the
family pew he sivid, "The words, my brethren, to

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THE PULPIT AND THE PEW

which I wish to ditvct y<nir pai-ticulur attention at the
present time, are these — * He giveth His beloved
skepr'

Some folks apparently make a mistake in not
taking their nightcaps to church with tluiii. It Ims
been told of a Dumbartonshire cattle-dealer that,
going to hear (?) a young minister of ix'pute who
was preaching for a day in the parish kirk at Bonhill,
immediately after the opening devotional services and
the reading of chapter, he spread his hands on the
book-board, forming them into a temporary pillow,
on which he laid his drowsy head and prepared to
enjoy a comfortable " snooze." The preacher's voice
was powerful, and the style of his declamation such
as to adjnit of consideiable grandiloijuenco. Acconl-
ingly, after some minutes, minister and people were
attracted by Bauldy raising his head just a little,
and saying, quite audibly, " Wre just fully 1o(m1 for
me — ay, fully lood." He laid down his head again,
and the preacher, proceeding, waxed more ehujuent
and more vociferous Jis he warmed with his theme.
At length, after a grand burst which closed some
great j)assage, Bauldy sat right bolt up, and looking
up at the minister, said, " Hang it ! ye're far ower
lood. There's nae mortal man could sleep wi' a
noise like that."

It is frequently only one step from the sleeping to
the wide-awake membei-s, and, the latter being
preferable company, we will now see how some of
those have conducted themselves. Perhaps the

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I^ivjudice against read sermons lingered longer in
Scotland than Jinywhcre else ; and, of course, it was
among the class that distinguished clearly between
the legitimate uses of a pew and a bed that the
individuals who concerned themselves in these matters
were found.

" Kh, he''s a grand pi-cacher ! " whispered an old
spinster to her sister, as they listened for the first
time to a y<Jung minister.

" Wheesht ! Bell," was the reply, "he's readin >r

" 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.

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" 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.

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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

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

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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-

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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

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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

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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

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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.""

I ^i\

THE PULPIT AND THE PEW

" I am gliwl you wore pleased with it, I am sure,''
the minister mo<k'stly replie<l.

" Pleased ! '"' echoed the matron. " I wm just so
perfectly feasted wi' it that I cam' hame an' ga'rd
Tanunas turn up ' Matthew Hendry,' and rejid it a'
ower again to me."

In Perth, about twenty years ago, there lived one?
Kirsty Robertson, who earned her living by washing.
'ITie poor btxly had to work from moniing till night
to keep hei-self in food and clothing. She managed,
however, to make a respectable appearance on Sun-
days, and was a regular attendei' of the kirk. The
minister observetl her decent and obvious j)overty,
and thought he ought to call on her, and see if he?
could assist her. He accordingly did so, and going
in one night he saw Kirsty sitting by the fire
wearied out with her day's laboui*. On hearing the
minister come in Kirsty started up with an exclama-
tion of surprise. He bade her be seated, and kindly
enquired into her welfare, both spiiitual and
temporal. Before leaving, he inquiied : " And 1
hope, Mrs. Robertson, you receive much good from
your regular attendance at the ordinances ? " " On
ay, sir," replied Kirsty, " it's no' eveiy day I get sic
a nice seat to sit on, an' sae little to think aboot."

Two men were talking about sermons. " Hoo did
your minister get on last Sabbath ? " asked the one.
"Get on!" said the other; "he got on — ^just like
a taed amang tar."

A well-known Edinburgh lecturer — the late

> :■ ■:

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.

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" I*m a fisher too,** remarked tiie minister dreunityf **hut afiAtr
of mm ; " the Utter words wei^e ddivered with great unctioQ. ** Oh,
indeed,** diyly reimonded the anrier, ** I had a kedc into your creel
yesterday ; ye didna seem to ha« cateh'd mouf"—^ag4 08.

VI \

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sill

THE PULPIT AND THE PEW

"Atweel, sir," said she, "I never weary o't; I've
I'eud it thmiigh aiT through I diniia ken lioo aden,
a!i' Fni just Jis fond o't yet as ever."

" Ah, Janet," exclaimed the enraptured divine,
" I am glad to hear you say so ; and how happy I
would Ix' if all n>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 s<iid, " You seemed
to be deeply affected, my good woman, while I was
pi-eaching to-day i'"

" Ay, sir, I Mas rale muckle affected," she replied.

" I am truly glad of that," quoth the minister ;
"and I hope the impression nmy be a lasting one."

" I doot, sir," said she, " ye're takin' me up wrang.
I was only thinkin' on Shoozie."

" Shoozie ! " exclaimed the astonished divine ;
** what do you mean by Shoozie ? "

'1'

,;t

' ' .

THISTLEDOWN

II f^'^

i !

\'jf

** Oh, ye ken, sir," replied the matron, " that was
a cuddie we had. She dee\l twa or three weeks
syne, and she was a kindly beast; an' I just thocht
whiles when I heard ye in yer raptures the day it
was her roarin', an' I fairly broke doon wi't."

It was customary long ago to speak of the topic
of a sermon as its ground or grund^ and the story is
told of an old woman bustling into church rather
late one day. The preacher, a yoimg man, had
commenced his sermon. The old dame, opening
her Bible, nudged her next neighbour with the
inquiry, "What's his grund?"

" Oh," rejoined the other, " the silly elfs lost his
grund lang syne ; he's just soombi' !''''

It was no use trying to throw dust in the eyes of
such practical people.

Another plain-spoken dame said of a preacher of
diminutive stature, who occasionally officiated in the
church in which she was a regular hearer, and to
whom she cherished some antipathy, " If there's
an ill text in a' the Bible, that ugly wratch o"" a
creatur' is sure to tak' it."

A city congregation not long since presented
their minister with a sum of money, and sent him
off to the Continent for a holiday. Soon after, a
g jntleman, just returned from the Continent, meeting
a prominent member of the congregation, said,
" Oh, by the by, I met your minister in Germany.
He was looking very well — he didn't look as if he
needed a rest." "No," said the member calmly,

100

THE PULPIT AND THE PEW

"it wasna hiniy it was the congregation that was
needin' a rest/"'

Shortly ailer a Congregational chapel had been

planted in a small burgh in the Noi-th, an incident

occurred which showed that the powere of its nnnister

were appreciated in cei-tain quarters. A boy named

Johnnie Fordyce had been indiscreet enough to put

a sixpence in his mouth, and accidentally swallowed

it. Mrs. Fordyce, concerned both for her boy and

the sixpence, tried every means for its recovery,

consulted her neighbours, and finally, in despair,

called in the doctor, but without result. As a last

resort, a young girl present suggested that they

should send for the Congregationalist minister. **The

minister ? " chorused mother and neighboui's. " Ay,

the minister," rejoined the girl. " My faither says if

there'*s siller in onybody hell tak' it oot o' them.'"'

The following illustrates how careful a minister
should be to fulfil his promises. A poor old deaf
man, residing in Fife, was visited one day by the
parish minister, who had been recently inducted.
Talkliig with the spouse of the afflicted parishioner,
i-he minister professed to be greatly interested in
the old man's case, and promised before leaving that
he would call regularly and pray with him. He,
however, did not darken the door of their home
again until about two years after, when happening
to go through tlie street in which the old man lived,
he found the wife standing at the door, and of course
made anxious inquiry regaixling her husband.

101

' I

r\-

Vii

THISTLEDOWN

3 , t

" Well, Margaret,"" said he, " how is Thomas ? ""
"Nane the better o' you,"" was the rather curt
reply.

" How, I'low, Margaret ? "" inquired the minister.
" Oh, ye promised twa yeare syne to ca' and pray
ance a fortnicht wi' him, and ye hae never ance
darkened oor door sin"* syne."

"Well, well, Margaret, don't be so short. I
thought it was not so very necessary to call and
pray with Thomas, for he's so deaf, you know, and
couldn't hear me."

" Ay, but, sir," rejoined the woman, " the Lords
no' deafr

He was well answered.

That story suggests another which I have heard
told by the worthy divine in whose experience it
happened. He had on his " sick list " an old male
parishioner, on whom he made frequent calls, and
invariably read and prayed with the family before
leaving. One day there were only the old man and
the old woman in the house. The customary chapter
was read, after which the divine engaged in prayer.
On looking round at the conclusion of the latter, he
was astonished to discover that the woman had
disappeared. He had scarcely recovered from the
bewilderment of the occasion, however, when she
came timidly slipping through the door- way-
*' Hech, sirse ! " she exclaimed, in a tone of surprise,
*'are ye dune already?" then added, by way of
explanation, "Ye see, sir, the Kirkiatilloch flute

102

THE PULPIT AND THE PEW

baund gaed by there a mauraent syne ; oor Janiie"'s
in't, an*" I just ran oot to see the crood, thinkin'
I wad be back again afore ye wad ken."

Here is a worthy companion story to the above.
A countiy minister had occasion to call upon one of
his parishionere who kept a toll-bar, and after some
convei'sation he proceeded to pray with him. He
had not uttered many words when he was inter-
rupted by an exclamation from the tollman —
" Wheest a minute, sir ; I think I hear a cairt ! '''
and out he went.

A Rev. Dr. Hendei-son of Galashiels in the com*se
of his pastoral visitation, called on a widow with a
large family, and asked how they all were, and how
things were getting on. She said, " A"" richt, except
Davie ; he''s been troubled wi"* a sair leg, and no fit
for wark.'"' The doctor could not remember which
one Davie was, but did not like to hurt the widow's
feelings by betraying his ignorance, and in his prayer
he pled that David"'s affliction might be blessed to
him. On going home, he said to his wife, referring
to his call, " ^Vhich of the sons is David V

"Hoot," she exclaimed, "Davie's no a son, Davie's
the cuddie ! "

It was the minister there. In the next stor}' it
was the other way about. A former minister in the
parish of Kilspindic, in the Carse of Gowrie, in the
coui"se of his parochial visitation called at the house
of a ploughman where the oldest boy, a lad of ten,
had been severely coached by his mother in anticipa-

103

r-^A V,

''■'Si

< A it

y^ir^

•w

THISTLEDOWN

tion of the " visit,"" and with the hope of his making
a good show. When, by and by, the minister took
notice of the boy, " Ay," interposed the mother,
*' an^ he can say his Curratches, too." " Indeed ! ""
exclaimed the minister, " still eyeing the lad, " how
nice ! Who made you ? "

"God."

" Quite correct. Wlio redeemed you ? "

" Christ."

" Right again. YouVe a clever little fellow, and
[putting his hand on his head] who cut your hair ? "

"The Holy Ghost," was the reply; and the
interview terminated.

" Sir," said the long-haired lessee of a small farm
in the North one day as he came up to the door of
the Free Church Manse, " this is awfu"' weather v '
drooth ; an' I ha'e come across to see if you wad put
up a petition for a shooer o' rain, for my neeps are
just perishin\"

" You are a member of the Established Church,'"
said the clergyman addressed ; " why not ask your
own minister to intercede on behalf of your turnips?"'

" It's no very likely he'll pray for rain for my
neeps," was the blinit response, " when his ain hay's
no in yet."

It is quite true that —

" If self the wavering balance shake,
It's rarely richt adjusted."

But perhaps this worldly - minded agncultui'ist
wronged his minister. There have been many kind,

104

THE PULPIT AND THE PEW

OllV

lirist
lind,

generoibj souls among them. 1 remember, says
Dr. Johu Brown, a story of a good, old Anti-Burgher
minister. It was in the days when dancing was held
to be a great sin, and was dealt with by the Sessions.
Jessie, a comely, blythe, and good young woman,
and a great favourite of the minister, had beta
guilty of dancing at a friend's wedding. She was
summoned before the Session to be " dealt with "" —
the grim old fellows sternly concentrating their eyes
upon her as she stood trembling in her striped
short-gown and her petticoat. The Doctor, who
was one of divinity, and a deep thinker, gi-eatly
pitying her and himself, said, "Jessie, my woman,
were ye dancin' ? "

" Yes," sobbed Jessie.

"Ye maun e'en promise never to dance again,
Jessie.""

" I will, sir ; I will promise " (with a cui*tsey).

"Noo, what were ye thinkin' o', Jessie, when ye
were dancin' ? — tell us truly," said an old elder, who
had been a poacher in youth.

" Nae ill, sir," sabbed out the dear little woman.

"Then, Jessie, my woman, ai/e dance!'''' cried the
delighted Doctor.

It was capital !

When the Rev. Mr. (now the esteemed Dr.) Mac-
gregor, of Edinburgh, settled in Glasgow as minister
of the Tron Kirk, he had occasion, a few weeks after,
to visit a family in one of the poorer districts, where
he was as yet unknown to the eyes of his flock,

105

:;i:

« 4i

*■ .?

THISTLEDOWN

although their eai-s had heard his name, and his
pei"sonal appearance had become in some vague way
f'amihar to their minds. He incjuired of the good-
wife whether the head of the house was at home,
and, being informed that he was not, was kindly
invited to await his arrival. This not occurring so
soon as the goodwife had expected, she suggested to
her visitor, who had not acquainted her with his
name or station, that he should " gang oot an see
the pigs," the mother-pig having brought into the
world a fine litter, a few days before. This, of
course, Mr. Macgregor cheerfully consented to do.
Tlie inmates of the sty having been duly inspected,
and the virtues of the mother-pig extolled till the
old woman"'s vocabulary refused to supply another
adjective, she informed her visitor that "the young
piggies had a' been named aifter different fouk;""
according as their personal appearances seemed to
offer points of resemblance. And she indicated this
and that one, as the bearer of some well-known
name, honoured or otherwise, until she came to the
last one, a rather diminutive, but active specimen of
the porcine breed. " An' this ane," said she to her
unknown and attentive listener, "this wee black
deev''luck, we ca' Wee Mac^egor o* the Tron!''''

The genial Doctor himself has frequently told the
above story with great and unaffected gusto.

The Christenin', the Waddin\ the Catakeezin'
(now an unknown institution), and the Burial — these
were occasions which brought the occupants of the

106

■!■

■^li

■f

" An' this ;iiic," said slic lo lur iml<ii(>wii and altcritivc listener,

"tliis wee l)laek deev'lueU. we ea" He Mm

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Breada

THE PULPIT AND THE PEW

pulpit and the pew into the closest relu,tionship, and
from which many capital illustrations of the natiotial
humour and character have arisen.

Baptism, of courae, sometimes had a different
significance for different pereons. "What is Baptism,
John ? " a minister, in the course of a public cate-
chising, asked his beadle.

" Baptism ? "" answered John, scratching his head,
"weel, ye ken, ifs sometimes mair and sometiines
less, but, as a general rule, ifs auchteenpence to me
and a shillin*" to the precentor."

"Hoo mony o"" the Elect will there be on the
earth the noo, think ye, Janet ? "" said one old crone
to another. "Ten?"

" Na : naething like it, woman.""

"Hoots, Janet, ye think there''s naebody good
enough for heaven but yerser, and the minister."

"Deed," replied Janet, "I hae sometimes very
grave doots aboot the minister."

Here was a more generous spirit. The late Dr.
Wilberfor^p^ v.liiie paying a visit at Tay mouth
Castle during the lifetime of the last Marcjuis of
Breadalbane, a devoted adherent of the Free Church,
was taken by Lady Breadalbane (fiee BailHe of
Jerviswoode) into one of the cottages on the estate
occupied by an old Highland woman — a " true blue "
Presbyterian — who was greatly pleased by the
Bishop''s frank and friendly manner. A few days
afterwards the Bishop left the castle, and Lidy
Breadalbane paid another visit to her old friend,

a 107

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\ i 'f-

^i:

, N

fA'i

f Wil

l:t

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

f-"

J LM

« V:

^U^

1)1

i J

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

■\

1 1

* 'l

I *

riiisi Li:i)owN

'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«'<l on i-iihrr of the toinicr oc.cii.
si«»ns. " ir he diu-s tliis, wliat may I lie n-sl, nn dn r
Wfrl, I I'airly gii' llicni n|> 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

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

If s Molicr",

'I'Ik; Kcv. Dr. Wif^'lilnwin, u\' KiiKii
'dimple iiiiii<lc(i cl('i'<rvinaii of tlir old mI

oiiiiLr Ill/Ill, Ik

lid liin addresses to

d )

Mirisli, niul HIS Mill. WHS accei)

• ted

on t

tliut it. met. with tlie H|>)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//i<iiucc
of his youth died un old maid. Ah, it's u .solemn
tiling marria<.^e !

A liiimoroiis **!» divine, wlio liud strong feelings
on the suLji-it » ;,;; in the habit, ol" prelacin^ the
cerer.'.>nv 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 bii<legr(K>m 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

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

■\h

In "i * li "

\ \

'S'

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

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

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

•A'

.".

( ■'

i (

• i<

' ■' f h. ',

' ? 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

Can ye tell ine how long Adam continued in a state ot" innofenee !- "
-I'ltqi' I. 'I I.

•<■¥]/

) \'^w^ !•

r»i

wm ,

'• I*

'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 • » ■

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

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

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> ' )

;<1

(

i I

'i'S

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' •'!» !.•:

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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

1, t

T 5i

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

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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

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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

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1 /

)

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%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

' ..'!■ i i.

4 i

'^A\

■i

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 ♦

», 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

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

-. *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

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w'*-, -A -0^t*-\-%f

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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.'<i to i xjiost- him.

'' ALi?., t'r-'i. ."' s/ii(i Hi(^ ioa\ ('digger, with ;!
V" ),»• ;f hi , *■ 1 ikaf- happit w,o?!y a i'aut o*

V<'urs. .'v' ? 'inn v«' niirfii Jliol*.- ane o' iiiiiie."

'I'Ik t. uixiihof. r } TJ\i. H*'v {)-r;jH'd Madccxl i'lOiV
Liijhlh^ow to {ri-t-y;u^v vns ti' .-p-.r n'H'j.tfd by tht
beadit:, »*^.o aifso •••'iJ \fn' ,,','nr'. ^'^i si xtoji. Whcji
Mr. Mfickofl f»!-^t vttit, it: r.ijuilhgow. tbo bwvdle,
t.o<)k !iiui iiiLo tht:- trra\t'vard, and, bhoN^inj^ him tlu:
rci-luig-plaof's ol' his p:t;d"C(ssoi-s, said, " Tht-re s
uhaor D". Bs^Jl lies: .uul tlioro's whaur \)i. Dobie
lit's;. ^\)k} rli(rt\. whatir vo.ril llt^ if youVo spaicd.'*
As She. Muci(.i;d vs;;,s t;ikiujr ivN d* jjartiuv, tlic bcadlf
fyiid, 'MV.'cl. sir, y./!'o !la (i/.* ;',-nt^^i- that wa^
0^ t-'.' hi'i.A 'Hft ./ I .(r.iitli<.v;'.v ,. \i<'i)i, f{, ihv gmvt>."'

{){ tilt ii'<!i.)ir «>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<:

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.

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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

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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'."

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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.

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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."

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THE OLD SCOTTISH BEADLE

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."

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" 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

::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

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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 %.

"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\"

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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

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THISTLEDOWN

east, an"' her wi' her feet to the wast. They were
contrar"" a"" their days, aii' they're contrar"' yet."

In a short time a lair was selected, after which
the minister enquired of John how long he had been
about the place.

Beadle — " I've been howkin' awa' in this comer for
mair than fifty year, sir."

Minister — " And I suppose you have buried one
or more out of every house in the parish, John ? ■"

Beadle— ''^a\ sir, na\ Thae folk o' Todhills
there have run nearly twa tacks o' their farm, an'
they havena' broken grund yet.""

Minister — " Indeed, that's very remarkable, John,
and old Todhills himself looks wonderfully hale and
hearty still."

Beadle — "Hale an' hearty, ay, hale an' hearty
eneuch, an' tichteni \ his grip on the warld every
day. But folk sud live an' lat live, sir. I say, folk
sud live an' lat live."

The minister and his friend thought John should
take the same advice to himself, but preferred not
to say so, and the interview terminated.

148

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HUMOUR OF SCOTCH PRECENTORS

CHAPTER VI

Hl?MOUR OF SCOTCH I'RKCES'TORS

I. i

HAND and personal labour of every kind in
Scotland, as everywhere else, has in recent
years been largely supereeded by machinery, and no
one can have failed to notice that even the office
of " lettergae,'' or precentor, is a rapidly decaying
institution in our midst. How rapid the progress of
the decay is will be recognised from a consideration
of the fact that, within the memory of many persons
still alive, " reading the line" was the general custom
in congregational praise. Then there was no such
thing as an organ, or " kist o' whustles," in any
Presbyterian kirk in the land, and choirs were the
exception. In the North hymns were not mentioned,
except with scorn and shaking of the head, and re-
peating tunes were regarded as a fri\ olity demanding
extermination. By and by the repeating tune was
tolerated, hymns were introduced here and there,
choirs became the fashion ; and thus far the precentor
was a sine qua non. Ultimately the kirk doore
were opened to the introduction of the organ, and
precentore became known as "choirmasters'" and
"conductors of psalmody."" Now the "whustles""
are heard bunnning in kirks, bond and free,

149

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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.

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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-

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THISTLEDOWN

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

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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

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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

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THISTLEDOWN

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

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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

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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.

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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."

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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,

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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,

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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

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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

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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 —

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« 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

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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."

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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<l its inaccuracy, and
that these foxes' tails could not have exceeded alM)ut
twenty feet in length. [Sandy whistles again.]
Twenty feet did I say," continues the minister, "yes!
but the matter has veiy recently been connnanding
attention in scientific circles, and it is doubted
whether foxes' tails, in any part of the world, ever

at any time, exceeded ten or twelve feet in "

[Sandy whistles.] At this crisis, the nu'nister strikes
his book with his clenched fist, and leans over the

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pulpit and exclaims, " I'll tell you what it is, Sandy
Johnstone, Til no tak' anither inch aft' thae foxes'
tails tho' ye sit there and whistle till the day o'
joodgment ! ""

Yes ! as already stated here, the Scotch precentor
is a decaying institution ; yet luckily for his peace
of mind there are still a respectable number in the
land who think with the old lady who remarked,
*' Organs, nae doot, mak' unco grand music ; but, eh !
ifs an awfu''-like way o' spendiri' the Sawbath ! "

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" I tell you what it is, Sandy Johnston, I'll no tak' anither inch aflp
thae foxes' tails tho* ye sit there and whistle till the day o' joodge-
nieni I "— J'ui/v I'JS.

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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

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THISTLEDOWN

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

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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<jtograph-
ing respectably-dressed persons in tht;ir various stages
of intoxication, afterwards circulating copies of the
photos amongst the subjecfs friends, being careful
not to neglect sending a few to tlie tippler himself,
and they will do more service to the temperance
cause in one month than perhaps all the labour of
their lives has hitherto achieved. But to come
directly to look at the humours of dram-drinking.
What have been the facts of the case ? Whisky
has been made the cure for all diseases, and
the "saw for a' saii-s." Was Sandy cold, he
took a diam to warm him. Was he hot, he
took a diam to cool himself. Did he feel hungry,
and the dinner not quite ready, he took a dram
to appease his appetite. Did he not feel very
himgry when dinner was set before him, he took a
dram to sharpen his appetite, and another one after
dinner to aid his digestion. Was he sad, he took
a dram to make him " bear his heail abune." Was
he nieny, he took a dram to tone himself down,
or to increase the jollity accoixling as he might
desire. Did he feel sleepy, a dram was called in to
hold him wide-a-wake. Did he feel too wide-a-wake.

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he retjuired a dram to induce sleep. Did he drink
so much at night that he had a headache in the
morning he reijuired "a hair more of the dog that
bit him," and so on. Wns tliore a birth in the
family, the dram had to circulate to handsel the
young Scot. The *' kii-stenin""" had eijual honour
awurdal it. The " wad(lin\" the " lyke-wake,"" the
"burial," the "foondinV the "hoose-heatinV the
" foy," the *' maiden," and dozens of inevitable
occasions demanded that the "grey-beard" should
be filled and emptied within a brief space of time
Did Sandy buy a cow, he "stood a dram ;" did he
sell u cow he did the same. There is an old woman
still li\ ing in Dundee who some ycare ago actually
went and took a dram to hei'self because her cat had
died. It was called in to solder eveiy bargain, and
the *' luck-penny," and the *' arle-peimy," and the
" Queen^s-shilling " demanded in the enlistment of
every soldier, meant just so much money to be spent
in drink which should be consumed on the spot.
Not of " Tam o' Shanter " alone might it be said
that " ilka melder wi*" the miller he drank as lang as
he had siller ; that ilka naig was ca'd a shoe on, the
smith an** he got roarin' fou on." Two friends could
not meet and part in town or country but there had
to be a dram both given and taken, or the one would
have suspected the other of entertaining a grudge
towards him. It was the unequivocal pledge of
friendship, and "surely you'll be your pint-stoup,
and surely 111 be mine," was the spirit principle of

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lad

luld

Igc

their social crood. Were quarrels nimle over the
dram they had to be settled over it oho —

•♦ For aye the cheapest lawyer's fee
'S to pree the barrel."

In houses of quality, as late as the end of last
century, it was the custom to keep a household
officer, whose duty it was to prevent the drunk
guests from choking. Old Henry Mackenzie, the
author of The Man of Feeling, Lord Cockburn tells,
was once at a festival at Kih'avock Castle, towards
the close of which the exhausttxl topers »ink giiidu-
ally back and down on their chairs, till little of
them was seen above the table but their noses ; at
last they disappeared altogether and fell on the
floor. Those who were too far gone lay still there
from necessity ; while those who, like the Man oj
Feeling, were glad of a pretence for escaping, fell
into a dose from policy. Wliile Mackenzie was in
this state he was alarmed by feeling a hand working
about his throat, and called out, when a voice
answered, " Dinna be fear'd, sir ; its me."" "And who
are you ? " " I'm the lad thnt lowses the graavats.""

It was employed, I have said, as the ciu'c for all
diseases, and the "saw for a' saii-s;" and the
pi-actice finds apt illustration in the stoiy of a school-
master who had been appointed to " teach the young
idea"" in a sparsely populated country district.
Sallying forth one day soon after his settlement in
the neighbourhood to spy out the land, and dis-

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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."

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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

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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

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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."

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"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<jr you'll see twa cabs, but tjik' the fii-st ane
— the tither ane's no' there."

John M'Nab, though withal an industrious crofler,
got " roarin' fou " every time he w ent to Perth,
which was once a fortnight or so, and like every
other pepion who so conducted himself, found always
some excuse for his behaviour, however, far-fetched
it might be. John could not have a glass, a.s his
wife said, but " a"* the toon boot ken, for he was ane
o' the singing kind, an' waukened a' the countryside."

On the morning which succeeded one of his peri-
odical " bursts," the minister happening to pass just
as John was watering the cow at the binn a little
beyond the door of his house, saw, as he thought, in
the incident a fine opportunity for improving the
occasion.

"Ah, John," said he, "you see how Cmmniie

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. N

(Iocs. Slu' juht drinks a.s much iia will do her ^o(xl,
and in)t a drop nK)ri\ Vou might hike an example
of the poor dinnh hriite."'''

" Ah," Slid John, "it's easy for her."
" Why more easy for her than you, John ?""
" Oh, just hecause it is. Man, there's nae temp-
tation in lier ease."

" '['emptatioii, John ? What do you mean ?""
" Weel, you see, sir, it's no the iovi' o' the drink
a'thef^ether that <rai>> 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

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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 s<ie mony
o' thae towts mysel' this auchtdays tliat there's no a
drap o' yon to the fore."

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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 ? "

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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

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.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<ret !
Marjjet ! "

The good woman heard and distinguished the
well-known voice of her husband, and iiished out
crying, ■•' IIo, John ! My, .John ! Is that you,
John ? Wliaur are you, John ? "

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» '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 truste<l retainer st-aggering
about stupidly in the place.

"Ah, John, John," exclaimwl the laird, "you
have not acted on my advice, I feai", and taken a
dnim before starting."

" Dram he hanicM ! " blurte<l out John. " Ifs no
a bit o' use. I hae taVn nearly a dizzen o' them, an'
Fm gettin"* aye the langer the waui'."

A F'orfarshire agricultui-ist, somewhat givi-n to the
dram, coming home one evening fully "three sheets
to the wind," took a seat by the fin , and, what with
the heat and the fumes of the whisky he h;ul imbibed,
he soon became sick, and possessed of an irresistible
desire to turn himself inside out. At his feet sat a
"coal baikie," which for the nonce was occupied by a
brood of young ducklings that had been deserted by
their foster mother, and for the sake of preservation
had been brought into the kitchen and placed thus

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near the fire. Into this utensil our hero deposited
the cause of his internal derangement. And his
good wife appearing on the scene, observing but
unobserved, a minute or two later, she found her
husband peering critically do\vn into the " baikie,"'
and muttering to himself —

"Eh! megstie me. It surely canna be possible.
I mind weel eneuch o"" eating that cheese, an"* (hie)
thae biscuits, an the beef. An' I mind perfectly
weel o' suppin' thae (hie) kail, an"* the barley amon'
them ; but, in the name o' a** that's wcnderfu',
whaur in a' the world did I get (hie) thae young
deucks ! "

He learned next moraing, doubtless, on the deafest
side of his head.

Even so stem an institution as total abstinence (?)
has its humorous side : —

An old " wifie," who had a weakness for whisky,
had been prevailed upon to take the pledge.

Shortly ''.fterwards she called upon a rather
"drouthie neebor," who was not aware of her
visitor's reformation.

The bottle was at once, as usual, produced, and
the recent convert to total abstinence was sorely
tempted.

She made, however, a gallant effort to remain
true to principle, and, holding up deprecating hands,
she said, " Na, thank ye, Mrs. Mitchell, Fve ta'en
the pledge. I have made a solemn vow not to pit
ban' or lip to gless again."

186

HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING

♦ <•<

to pit

But then, seeing Mrs. Mitchell was about to re-
move the spirits, she hesitatingly siiid, "I daur say
if you wad j)ut a wee drappie in a tea-cup I could
maybe tak' it."

A young countryman went a considerable distance
to pay a visit to his uncle and aunt and cousiiis, who
were reputed a family of strict teetotallers. Dm'ing
his first meal at his kinsman's table the young man
commented on the absence of spirituous licpiors.

" We are a' temperance folk here, ye ken," inter-
rupted the old man. " No spirituous liquors are
allowed to enter this house."

After dinner the old man went up stfiirs to take
his customary " forty winks," the gii-ls started off to
Sunday School, and the boys lounged away to smoke
in the stable. As soon as Aunt Betty found heiself
alone in the kitchen she put her initial finger to her
lips, to enjoin silence on the part of her youthful
nephew, and going to a dark nook in the pantry she
drew therefrom a little black bottle, and filling a
glass held it out to him, and said —

" Here, John, tak' a taste o' that. Our gudeman's
sic a strict teetotaller that I daurna let him ken that
I keep a wee draj) in the hoose — ^^just for medicine.
So dinna mention it."

A few minutes later the old man cried from the
stairhead, " Are you theie, John ? "

The nephew went upstairs, when the head of the
house took him to his own bedroom, where he
promptly produced a gallon -jar of whisky from all

N 187

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THISTLEDOWN

It f

old portniiinto.'ui undcf tlu' Iwd, imd pouring out a
hi'jirty drain, s;ii«l —

"•'reetot.iliirdoostiji pi(\ont nif t'nic kccpiir a wi'o
dnip o"* the ' rule peat rt'i'k ' in case o*" illness, or
tliat: ; so lu'iv, lad, put ye llmt in your cheek ; hut
(confidentially) not a word ahoot it to yoiu' aiuitie,
or the laddies.'*

Sti"oIlin<5 out of doors soon after this si-cond sur-
prise, and enterin<^ the .stahle, the cousins heckoned
their relative into the barn, where, after finnhling
among the sti'aw for a few seconds, they handed
him a black bottle, with the encouraging woi-ds —

" 'rak' a sook o' that, cousin, ye'll find it gude ;
but not a woid to the old fouks, mind, for twa mair
infatuated teetotallei"s wet\' never born.""'

I have said that our drinking customs have made
us the butt of the foreign "jokist.*" Here is the
proof, in the following clever skit — a burlescjue
ix'port of the celebration of St. Andrew's Day in
Calcutta — which ap{Hared some years ago in the
colunms of the Imlian Daily News^ inuler the title
of—

Yf, Chron'km.k ok Saint Andrew.

1. It came to pass in the year one thousand eight
hundred and four score and one, in the City of
Palaces, dwelt certain wise men from a far country
beyond the givat sea.

2. (In that y(>ar the rulers of the city did that
which was right in their own eyes).

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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.

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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.

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HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING

18. And they played after the fashion of their
country, and their nioveiuents rescnible<l the pere-
grinations of a hen upon a girdle which is hot. Yet
they seemed to think it pleasant, for they shouted
with joy.

19. Now, as for them that were aHiiiNt, behold,
their drinking was steady, but their limbs were not
so ; yea, they also shouted for joy and sang amazingly.

20. And they answered one to another, and siiid
that, nothwithstanding the crowing of the cock or
the dawning of the day, they should still partake
of the juice of the barley. So they encoiuaged one
another with these words.

21. Now it came to pass that, us they sat, one
came and said he had seen a strange fire in the sky,
but what it was he could not tell.

22. And some said, It is the moon ; and others
said. It is the sun ; and some said, Doth the sun rise
in the west ? and others said. This is not the west,
but the east ; and some said. Which is it, for we
perceive two in the sky.

23. And one said, I see nothing. Now the name
of that man was Blin' Foo. He was the son of
Fill Foo, and his niother''s name was Ilaud l\x) ; and
his brethren — Bung Foo, Sing Foo, Greet Foo, and
Dam Foo— were speechless.

24. Then each man bivde his neighlxiur farewell,
embracing and vowing eternal friendship, and some
were borne home by men in scanty raiment, and
others in carriages which jingled as they went; and

191

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^|i

\\y

«.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

his

HUMOURS OF DRAM-DRINKING

H«; Hm<! WHS wpnk.
An' cotildim r/it n stt-nk
Witlioiit p<'ttin' sick,

An' tukiii' qnaliiis ;
But now he can cat
()' oiiy kind <)' nu-af,
For Ik's I'ot an appctect,

liy drinkin' drains.

He anre was thin,
Wi' a nose like a })en.
An' hands like a hen,

An' nae hams ;
But now he's roond an' tieht.
An' a dcevil o' a wiclit.
For he's got hiinsel' put richt

By drinkin' drams.

He anee was saft as dirt.
An' as pule as oiiy shirt.
An' as useless as a cart

Without the trams;
But now he'd face the deil.
Or swallow Jonah's whale —
Hi's as f?leg's a puddock's tail,

Wi' drinkin" drams.

Oh ! pale, pale was his hue.
An' cauld, cauld was his broo.
An' he grumbled like u ewe

'Mang libbit rams ;
But now his broo is bricht.
An' his een are orbs o' licht.
An' his nose is just a sicht,

Wi' drinkin' drams.

He studied mathematics,
Logic, ethics, hydrostatics,
Till he needed diuretics
To lowse his dams ;

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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.

l»,

194

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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

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1 '

R *t

1 ,

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

THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE

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

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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

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

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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

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 / "

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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

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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

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THISTLEDOWN

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 <lay, na the Knglish-
nmn was seated at the door of his lodging, Donald
came up driving a big fat Inrnv.

"One of your relations, I suppose, Donald?"
exclaimed the visitor, chuckling, and nodding his
head in the direction of the "porker.""

" No,'' (piietly retorted Donald, surveying the
proportions of his interlocutor, "no relation at ali,
sir, but just an acquaintance, like i/our.ser.^"

" My late esteemed friend, Mr. John Mackie^
M.P. for Kirkcudbiightshire," writes the garruloiLs
and entertaining author of Reminiscences of Fifty
Years, " used to describe an extensive view which
one of his friend's hills connnanded. This he never
failed to call to the attention of his English visitors
when the weather wiis clear. Willy the shepherd
was always the guide on such occasions, as he knew
precisely the weather that would suit.

"One forenoon an English friend was placed
under Willy''s charge to mount the hill in oider to
enjoy the glorious view. ' I am told, shepherd, you
are going to show me a wonderful view."' 'Thafs
quite true, sir.' ' What shall I see ? ' * Weel, ye'll
see a feck o' kingdoms — the best o' sax, sir.' ' What
the deuce do you mean, shepherd 't ' * Weel, sir, I

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mean what I say.'' ' But tell me all about it.' ' Til
tell you naething mair, sir, until we're at the tap o'
the hill.' The top reached, Willy found everything
he could desire in regard to a clear atmosphere.
' Noo, sir, I houp ye've got guid een.?' Oh, my
eyes are excellent.' ' Then, that's a' richt, sir. Noo,
div you see yon hills awa' yonder ? ' ' Yes, I do.'
' Weel, sir, those are the hills o' Cumberland, and
CumlDcrland's in the kingdom o' England ; that's a'e
kingdom. Noo, sii', please keep coont. Then, sir,
I maun noo trouble you to look ower yondei-. Div
ye see what I mean .'* ' 'I do.' * That's a' richt.
That's the Isle o' JMan, and that was a kingdom and
sovereignty in the families of the Earls o' Derby and
tlie Dukes o' Athol frae the days o' King David o*
Scotland, if ye ken onything o' Scotch history.'

* You are i[uite right, shepherd.' ' Quite richt, did
you say; I wadna ha'e brocht ye here, sir, if I was
to be wrang, Weel, that's twa kingdoms. Be sure,
sir, to keep coont. Noo, turn awee aboot. Div ye
see yon land yonder? It's a bit farrer, but never
mind that, sae king as ye see it.' ' I see it distinctly.""
' Weel, that's a' I care aboot. Noo, sir, keep coont,
for thafs Ireland, and niak's three kingdoms ; but
there's nae trouble aboot the neist, for ye're stannin'
on't — I mean Scotland. Weel, that mak's four
kingdoms; div you admit that, sir.''' * Yes, that
makes four, and you have two yet to show me.'

* That's true, sir, but dinna be in sic a huny.
Weel, sir, just look up aboon yer head, and this is

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THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE

i &J

by far the best o' a' the Kiijijdotns : that, sir, aboon,
is Ilcavc'ii. That's five : and the Hiixth kingdom is
that doou below yer fict, to which, sir, I houp ye'll
never gang ; bnt thafs a })oint on which I canna
speak wi' ony certainty.' "

I have said that the Scotch and ^Mighsh are each
inchned to over-estimate themselves and imder-
estimate 'leir neighboni-s ; but to this should be
iulded the fact, that the canny ci'aftiness of Sandy —
his cliaracteristic prudence — has shown him liow
nuich he might gain by familiarising himself with
all John's ways, and this he has done, wherejis John
has thought it sufficient to assume a knowledge of
Sandy's aflairs, even although he possessed it not.
And this contemptuous fissumption of knowledge
has led to some sublime blundering on John's })art.
We scarcely expect our Cockney brethren to be
familiar with our Noithern tongue, or even to liave
very nuich sympathy with it. Yet, while they
actually do not know it, and ivadily ex])ress con-
tempt for it, they still continue to aft'ect a knowledge,
and so, to apply a well-known Irishism, " seldom
open their mouth on the subject but they put their
foot in it." Thus, not very long ago, one Cockney
told another that he had learned a beautiful Scotch
song, and would write out for him .-i copy of the
Mords. The song was, "The I^iiss o' (lowrie," and
the first two lines came from his pen as follows :--

" 'Twas on a sumitu'r's aflornoon,
A week before the sun wt-nt dooii."

\ I

.i.

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THISTLEDOWN

w ^

The prospect of such a long continued spell of day-
light in Scotland proved too much for the risible
susceptibilities of the party who looked over the
writer's shoulder, and the pen had to be thrown aside,
aniifl a roar of laughter. Not many yeai-s ago I
myself saw the printed programme of a London
Scottish concert, an item in which appeared n'^

" Ye Banks and Brays of Bonnie Doon,"

and I thought what an ass he must have been who
prepared the " copy " ! Punch — I think it was
Punch — once made one Scotsman threaten to give
another " A richt gude Willie- waucht in the side o"*
the head." Great dubiety existed in the London
journalistic mind some time ago about the significa-
tion of the phrase, "The Land o' the Leal," — was it
the poetical designation of Scotland, or Heaven?
" Old long since ago," and " Scots with him " are
Anglicised Scotticisms as familiar as proverbs. But
surely the very funniest results from Cockney inter-
meddling with things Scotch that ever appeared are
to be found in a cheap edition of Burns*'s poems,
which was issued some time since by John Dicks, the
well-known Strand publisher. From this copy it is
made apparent that Tam o' Shanter was not the
hero of Burns's humorous masterpiece at all, but one
Tam Skelpit — vide the following lines : —

" Tam Skelpit on through mud and mire,
De'ipising wind and rain and fire."

Then the family name of the householder innnoi'tal-

210

? !

THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE

are
But
inter-
)d arc
loems,
, the
it is
, the
it one

lOr

L-tal-

ised in the " Cottar"'s Satui'day night," according to
this Cockney edition, vras not Bums, as is popularly
believed in Scotland, but Hqfflins. The revelation
appears in these lines : —

♦' The wily mother sees the conscious flame
Sparkle in Jenny's e'e and flush her cheek,

Wi' heart-struck anxious care inquires his name ;
While Jenny HafHins is afraid to speak ;

Weel pleased the mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake."

Tani Skelpit and Jenny Hafflins ! My conscience !
What next? Well, a cursory glance finds such
improved readings as these (I will italicise the
improvements) : —

" The heapit happiey.i ebbing still."

" I held awe to Annie."

" They reeled, they set, they crossed, they cUckit."

*' And xiJi'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet."

" Or wake the hosom-smelting throe."

And there are many other blunders quite as
ludicrous. Experience is a severe school, and when
the Scotch becomes the universal tongue John Bull
will perceive this ; but perhaps not before.

A very humorous instance of the almost inconjpre-
hensibility of things Scotch by the English mind
occurred during one of the earlier visits of the
Royal Family to Balmoral. The late Rince Consort,
dressed in a simple manner, was crossing one ot the
Scottish lochs in a steamer, and was curious to note
everything relating to the management of the vessel,
and, among other things, the cooking. Appi-oacli

211

Ir,

\ '• »

'1 '

THISTLEDOWN

\^.^

I ..

ing the galley, where a brawny Scot was attending
to the culinary matters, he was attracted by the
savoury odoui-s of a dish of hotch-potch which
Sandy was preparing.

"What is that?" asked the Prince, who was not
kno\vn to the cook.

" Hotch-potch, sir," was the reply.

" How is it made ? " was the next question.

" Weel, there's mutton intilPt, and neeps intilPt,
and carrots intiirt, and "

" Yes, yes," said the Prince, " but 7i}7iat is
intiirt?"

" Weel, there's mutton intiirt, and neeps intiirt,
and "

" Yes, I see ; but what is intiirt ? "

The man looked at him, and, seeing that the
Prince was serious he replied —

"There's mutton intill't, and neeps intill't, and "

" Yes, certainly, I know," still argued the Prince ;
"but what is intiirt— tnilirt ?"

" Gudesake, man," yelled the Scotsman, brandish-
ing his big ladle, " am I no thrang tellin' ye what's
intiirt ? There's mutton intill't, and "

Here the interview was brought to a close by one
of the Prince's suite, who fortunately was passing,
explaining to His Royal Highness that " intill't "
simply meant "into it," and nothing more!

An incident of a somewhat similar nature, and
even more humoursonie than the above, which was
happily paraphrased by the late Robert Leighton,

212

I I

II,

THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE

the Scottish poet, under the title of " Scotch Words,"
occurred to an Enghsh gentlewoman, a number of
years ago, in the coui*se of a brief tour " here awa\'"
One night she rested at a respectable inn in a country
village, and on being shown to her bedroom by the
nistic chambermaid, the (jucstion was put to her —

" Would you like to have a het crock in your bed
this cauld nicht, mem ? "

" A what ? " asked the lady.

" A pig, mem. Shall I put a pig in your bed to
keep you warm ? *"

" Leave the room, young woman ! ■" was the
indignant response, "your mistress shall hear of your
insolence.''*

" Nae offence, mem," insisted the lassie, " it was
my mistress that bad me speir : and I'm sure she
meant it a** in kindness."

The lady looked in the girPs face, and now
satisfied that no insult was intended, said, in a
milder tone, "Is it common in this country, my
girl, for ladies to have pigs in their beds .''"

" Ay, and gentlemen ha'e them too, mem, when
the weather^s cauld."'

" But you would not surely put the pig between
the sheets ? "

" If you please, mem, it would do niaist gude
there."

" Between the sheets ? It would dirty them, girL
I could never sleep with a pig between the sheets."

" Nae fear o' that, mem ! You'll sleep far mair

213

4^-

til

THISTLEDOWN

comfortable. Fll steek the mouth o't tightly, and
tie it up ill a poke."

" Do you sleep with a pig youreelf in cold
weather ? "

" Na, mem, pigs arc only for gentiy like yerseP
wha lie on feather beds."

" How do you sleep, then ? "

" My iieebor lass and I just sleep on cauf."

" \Vliat ! you sleep with a calf between you ? "

" Ou, no, mem, ye^'e jokin'' noo. We lie on the tap
ot.

Wlien the two came to perfectly undci"stand each
other history dcponeth not.

Dean Uamsay tells an amusing story of a Stirling-
shire farmer's visit to a son, engaged in business in
Liverpool. The son finding the father rather de trop
in his office, one day, persuaded him to cross the
ferry over the ]\Iersey, and inspect the harvesting,
then in full operation, on the Cheshire side. On
landing, he approached a young woman reaping
with the sickle in a field of oats, when the following
dialogue ensued : —

Farmer — " Lassie, are yer aits muckle bookit the
year?"

Reaper—'' Sir ? "

Farmer — " I am speiriiT gif yer aits are muckle
bookit the year ? "

Reaper (in amazement) — " I really don't know
what you are saying, sir."

Farmer (in equal astonishment) — " Gude — save —

214

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tit: it UiJ ill a I'okc."

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".vh.'i lie t»ti :!;..!li4'i h.d.-,."'

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slinr !■.|•uuT^; % lyii: la n ^^„,, cH;4;i!.;,.iJ in b(;«inu,-s ii.
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ii. S'> <'f!l!-.',, (Ml,, rlax. pirKLimhyl l.ini to f!-<>.s^ it,,.
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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.

\ i»'

"''■rr?E74y'— j:-77«Tr-Tr-:T'rz;.rT'r'"T^!''''rTgBPrn a .'.-'' iJl gMMJL'^^ :it!f^ '; ' ^fWf

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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

/ ;,

1 i

nJ<

\\\

THISTLEDOWN

in^ly proceeded to call n[)<m one of the most
opulent (lr;i[)i'rs, with >\hoin lie resolved to estahlish
i\ r('<rular corresjiondonce. AVlicn Saunders entered
the shop in (lucstioii he found it crowded with
customers, and the salesmen all bustling about
making sales, and displaying their wares to pro-
spective purchasers. Saundei-s waited what he con-
sidered a reasonable time, then in a lull of the
busin;"ss, laid down his pack, his bonnet, and staff,
upon tlie counter, and encpiired for " the head o*" the
hoose."

One of the clerks asked him what he wanted.

"Tm wantin' to see gin he wants ocht in my
line," was tiie answer.

"No! *" shouted the foreman.

"Will ye no tak' a look o' the gudes, sir?"
inquired Saunders.

" No, not at all ; I have not time. Take them
away."

" Ye'U maybe find them worth your while ; and
I dootna but ye'll buy,"" said Sauudei-s, as lie coolly
proceeded to untie his pack.

" Go away, go away ! " w as reiterated half a dozen
times with great impatience, but the persevering
Scotsman still persisted.

"Get along, you old Scotch fool," cried 'he ' jre-
man, completely oui of temper, as he a the

already exposed contents of the pack off eounter.
" Get along ! "

Saunders looked up in the individual's face ^vitll a

216

%.-f&k

THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE

wide nunith nud enlnr^od pair of oyos, tlicii looked
down to liis t-sttite that lay .scatloivd amoiii^ his ibt't,
looked up again, and exclaimed — "And will yc
no buy ocht ? lint ye diinia ken, for ye liacna scvn
the gndes," and so saying he proceeded to replace
them on the counter.

"Get out of the shop, sir! " was the peremptory
and angry conunand which lollowed this third apj);al.

Sainidei-s, with great gravity and self-possession,
said — " Are ye in eainest, freend ? "

" Yes, certainly," was the reply, which was suc-
ceedetl by an une(|uivocal proof of sincerity on the
part of the person who made it, when he picked uj)
SaundeiVs bonnet and whirled it into tlie street.
The cool Scotsman stalked deliberately and gravely
in quest of his Kilmarnock headgear, and after
giving it two or three hearty slaps upon the wall
outside the door, he re-entered veiy composedly,
ringing the nuiddy moisture out of it, looked over to
the person who had served him so meanly, and said,
with a genuine Scotch smile — "Mm, yon was an
ill-faured turn ; youll surely tak' a look o' the gudes
noo ? "

The master drajier himself, who was standing all
the while in the shop admiring the patience and
pei'severence of the old man, and feeling a little
compunction for the unceremonious manner in which
he had been treated, came now foi ward, examined
the contents of the pack ; found them to be articles
he stood in need of; purchased them ; ordered an

217

! i

l''l>^^

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<r to London,
w;us waitt'd iij>»»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

■ I

\ { ■' '

% i -^n

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

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

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V •

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 regar<l to the (juality of his
potato crop, provided amusement to the Lowlandei"s
around him by re[)lying — "They are just ferry goot,
inteed, but fery seldom whatefer." Another fertile
source of anuisement is found in the difliculty with
which the unkempt Highlander adapts himself to
the usages of low^ country, and, particularly, to city
life. A hap])y depiction of his speech and behaviour
in such a circumstance is found in Rodger\s familiar

\'i w,

i ' '-'I

THISTLEDOWN

Si'?

7 '4

song of "Shon M'Nab," already referred to. On
coming to Glasgow, " Shon *" said —

" Ta first thing she pe wonder at.

As she came doun ta street, man.
Was mans pe traw ta cart himsel',

Shust 'pon his nain twa feet, man.
Och on ! och on ! her nainsel' thought.

As she wad stood and glower, man ;
Poor man, if they mak' you ta horse —

Should gang 'pon a' your /our man.

And when she turn ta corner round,

Ta black man tere she see, man ;
Pe grund to music in ta kist.

And sell him for pawpee, man.
And aye she'll grund, and grund, and grund.

And turn her mill abool, man :
Pe strange ! she will put nothings in.

Yet aye teuk music out, man."

There are some choice specimens of Donald's
English extant, and, before passing on to the richer
ore of his natural humour, it will be worth while
to glance at a few. Fii'st, there is the famous
Inveraray proclamation, which I do not remember
to have seen in print, but which, when a boy, I
learned from the lips of a droll old man in Central
Perthshire. It is a unicjue pnxluction, but is said
to have actually been delivered at the Market Cross
of Inveraray towards the close of the last century.
Here it is —

"Ta-hoy ! — a tither ta-hoy ! — three times ta-hoy !
— and ta-hoy ! Wheesht ! ! By command of Her
Majesty King Sheorge and Her Grace ta Tuke o'

224

SCREEDS O' TARTAN

Argyll ! Any persons found fishing abune ta loch
or below ta loch, afore ta loch or ahent ta loch, in
ta loch or on ta loch, roun ta loch or about ta loch,
will pe pei'socuted with three persecutions — First
she'll pe troon'd, and syne she'll pe hang'd, and
ten she'll pe prunt ; and if she'll come back any
more she'll pe persecuted with a far woi*se pei'secution
tan all that. Got save the King and Her Grace ta
Tuke o' Argyll ! "

If we admit the above to be bona-fide^ we can
scarcely doubt the genuineness of the following
prayer, which is said to liave emanated from a
contemporary of the Inveraray bellman : —

" Gracious Providence ! Bleas all ta Macdonalds,
and ta Macdonalds' children, tere sons' sons and tere
daughters' daughters, for a thoosand years langsyne.
Be gracious to send us mountains of siuift" and
tobacco, and send us oceans of whisky — ta very
finest of whisky ! Oh, yes ! And send us hills of
potatoes, and breads and cheeses as big as all ta
Howe of Strathmore. And, moreover, likewise,
send us floods of water, tat tere may pe griiss for
plenty to man and beast, and some to spare to ta
poor of ta parish. Send us guns and pistols as
more as ta sea and ta sand-shore ; and swords, too,
likewise, to kill all ta Grants and ta MiU'phei*sons
for evermore. Bless in. wee stirk, and mak' him a
big coo })efore Martinmas. Bless ta wee soo, too,
and mak' him a big boar likewise. Oh, yes ! Put
the strength of Samson into Donald's arms, and send

THISTLEDOWN

\ i

lis parley, kail, and corn prodigious. Blass all ta
pairns — Duncan and lloiy and Flora, and you,
Donald, and you, Lauchie, and you, Peter ; and
glorious, yours for everniore.'"

I do not ask any one to swallow the above, minus
the proverbial "grain of salt." I like to take it that
way myself And yet there are well-authentiaited
instances and occasions revealing deliveiances quite
as ludicrous and absurd. Witness the following
fragment of a pulpit homily which appeai-s in
Hugh Boyd's admittedly veracious Reminiscences of
Fifty Years, and which the recorder appears to
have heard himself, or received on highly credible
authority : —

" Ah, my friends," exclaimed the preacher, " what
causes ha\'e we for gratitude ! Oh, yes ! for the
deepest gratitude ! Look at the place of our
habitation. How grateful should we be that we
do not leeve in the far North, Oil, no ! amid the
frost and the snaw, and the caukl and the weet.
Oh, no ! where there's a lang day the a'e half o' the
year. Oh, yes ! and a lang nicht the tither. Oh, yes!
That we do not depend upon the aurawiy boreawlis.
Oh, no ! That we do not gang shivering aboot
in skins, Oh, no ! snookin"* amang the snaw like
niowdiewarts, Oh, no, no ! And how grateful should
we be that we do not leeve in the f&,r Sooth, beneath
the equawter, and the sun aye burnin\ burnin'.
Where the sky's het, Ah, yes '. and the earth's het,
and the water's het, and ye're burnt black as a

226

SCREEDS O* TARTAN

smiddy, A\ yes ! ^Vliere there''s teegurs, Oh, yes !
And lions, Oh, yes ! And crocodiles. Oh, yes ! And
feareonie beasts growliir and girnin' at ye aniang the
woods. Where the very air is a fever, like the burnin"*
breath o' a fiery drawgon ; that we do not leeve
in these places — Oh, no, no, no, no ! But that we
leeve in this blessit island of oui-s, calTt Great IJritain,
Oh, yes, yes ! and in that part of it named Scotland,
that looks up at IJen Nevis — Oh, yes, yes, yes!
Wliere"'s neither frost, nor cjiuld, nor winid, nor
weet, nor hail, nor rain, nor teegurs, nor lions, nor
burnin' suns, nor hurricanes, nor "

" Here," says the narrator, " a tremendous burst
of wind and rain from Ben Nevis blew in the windows
of the kirk, and brought the preacher's elotpience to
an abrupt conclusion.

Highlanders have the habit when talking their
English, so-called, of interjecting the personal j)ro-
noini"he" when it is not retpiired — such as "the
doctor he has come," or " the postman he is going" —
and often in consequence a sentence or an expression
is rendered sufficiently ludicrous, as the secpiel will
show. A reverend and pious gentleman once began
his discourse thus : — " IMy deaily beloved brethren,
you will find the subject of our observations this
afternoon in the Firet Epistle General of Peter, the
fifth chapter and tlie eighth verse, and in these
words, 'The devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about,
seeking whom he may devour.' Now, my brethren,
with your leave, we will divide the subject of our

227

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text into four hetuls. Firet, we shall endeavour to
aijcertnin zc/io the devil he teas. Secoiully, we yliall
inquire into his geographical position — namely,
where the devil he was goinff. Thirdly — and this
is of a personal character — we will ask oui"selves
zvho the devil he was seeking. Fourthly, and lastly,
my beloved brethren, we shall endeavour to solve a
])roblem that has never been solved to this day —
namely, zvhat the devil he xvas roaring at.''''

Jlecently a Highland })oliceman, not many weeks
imported from the island of Jura, approached to
where a number of young men were standing in a
knot on the pavement of one of the busier streets of
the Western metropolis, and pusliing them somewhat
roughly, exclainjed, "If you'll be going to stand
liere, my lads, you'll have to be moving about/"'

"Is this not a free country?" demanded one of
the fellows, somewhat sharply.

"This is not ta country at all, you tarn sheep's
head,"" shouted the now enraged member of the law,
"tliis is one of the largest cities in the town of
Ghwgow ! "

But if Donald's uttered speech is sometimes
ludicrous, what are we to say concerning some
specimens which we have seen of his xciiltcn address!
The Glasgow Herald a number of years ago gave its
authority for the following being a verbatim copy
of a letter which, a short time previously, hud been
received by a local coal-agent, the writer's name
alone being mercifully withheld from publication: —

228

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SCREEDS O' TARTAN

"Tiirbort,,
27 rebnuiry, 180074

"Siir, — I wjus iiiult'Dstund that you was a cole pit.
i was want to km-w what wjus your nionish for to
supplio coal to bo ck'hvir to turbort at the Quay
most ncarust to tlie city of turbert lorh fine side
was I used to got my coal from a agent at (Jreenock
but he was charge me a great dale n>uch 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 .

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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

SCREEDS O' TARTAN

Donald (li<l iis reqiipsted.

"So, so!" excluiini'd the old man, "tiit iss very
well blown, inteed — just beautiful. Ikik what is
sound, Donald, without sense? Just so. You may
blow for ever without making a tune of it if I do
not tell you how ta (jueer things on ta paper are to
help you. I^iok hei*e, lad. You see tat big fellow
with ta roinul, open face (pointing to a semibreve
between the two lines of u bar), he moves slowly
from tat line to tis while you beat one with your
foot and give a long blast. Now you put a leg to
him. You make two of hini, and he will move
twice as fast. If you blacken hims face he will run
four times tJister iis ta, fellow with ta white face;
but, besides blaekejiin"" hims face, if you will bend
hims knees, or tie hims legs, he will hop eight times
faster as ta white-faced fellow I showed you ta first
time. And now whenever you blow your pipes,
Donald, retiiember tis, the tighter you will tie tese
fellows legs ta faster they will run, an' ta quicker
they will be sure to dance.*"

There is a chaiacteristic story which Highlanders
themselves delight to tell, to the effect, that, once
upon a time, when one of their countrymen was
piussing a farm -steading, the dog attached thereto
came rushing and barking towards him, and latterly
added injuiy to the insult which had been offered
by inserting its fangs in the naked calf of one of
the brawny Celt's legs. Maddened by the pain,
the Highlander seized a hayfork which happened

231

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to be conveniently near, and with one fell thrust
transfixed the snarling tyke to the earth. The
howls of agony ijuickly brought the farmer on the
scene., who, on seeing his favourite collie writhing
on the ground, exclaini"d in wn^.th, " Why the devil
did ye no tak' the other end o' the fork to the dog,
you stupid ass ? " " And why the dog did the deevil
no tak*" his other end to nie, you stupid ass yourself? "
the Highlander replied.

It is the Ettrick Shepherd, I think, who tells of
two Highlanders who set out on a reiving expedition
to steal the litter of a wild sow, which lay in a
narrow-nioutlied cave. Seizing the op[)ortunity of
Madame Grumphie's absence, one of the men crept
in, and the other kepi a watch at the mouth.
Presently, down the hillside came tbe distracted
and angiy sow, and rushed with menacing tusks
towards her den. The guai'd, as she slipped into
the {)assage, had just time to lay hold of her tail,
give it a firm twist round his strong hand ; and,
thi'owing himself down and setting his feet against
the sides of the den, he held her fast. The
Highlander in the cave was too nmch engaged
with the screaming little pigs to hear the tassle
going on outside ; but finding himself in dark-
ness, he called out to his mate, " Donald, fat the
deiTs the maitter ? I cainia see." Donald, who
by this time had found a pig's t^il a most uneasy
tenme, and who had no wind left for explana-
tions, briefly but significantly answered, "Gin the

tJlf u

SCREEDS O' TARTAN

tail breaks, DougaF, my lad, yoiril see fat's the
niaittcr."

" Hillo, Donald ! " exclaimed one Highlander to
another, as they met on a countiy road recently,
"what are you doing here at all ? I socht you was
always with M'Tjachlan down in the Glen."

"So I was a long time with M''T^icl.lan too,""
replied Donald, "but 1 have left him, svhatever."

" Wliy did you leave him r He\s a good master
Fm sure."

" Hooch, ay, a good master enough ; but I left
him about the salt beef."

"Did you not like salt beef.?"
"Hooch, ay, I like salt beef well enough."
"Did you get too much salt beef.'*"
*' This is how it was, you see. There was a cow
that died, and he salted the cow, and we got nothing
but salt cow as long as she lasted. And I like salt
cow well enough. But then there was a sheeps that
died, and hti salted that too, and we got nothing but
salt sheep as long as she lasted ; and I like salt
sheeps well enougb But some time after there was
a pig that died, and he salted her too, and we got
nothing but sfilL pig as long as she lasted. And
I like salt pigs well enough. But just when the
pig \vas nearly all done, one day his grandmother
died, and he coines out to the sbible, and says
he, ' Youll have to go away for a stone of salt,
Donald.'

" ' Hooch ay,' thinks I to myself, ' my man ; but

il.

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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

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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
<h'am, and wait for twa cm)1's and moiv, and if the
mist will clear awa' you w ill see the moon from here."

We may suppose that the next she{)herd v\ho
came in the way of these tourists would not be
unduly inteirogated.

A Highland lassie whom I have heai'd of was not
<juite so successful in an encounter with the Sassenach
postmaster. She liad gout? to the Post ( )ffice to taku
out a money order.

" Where is your order to go ? "" demanded the clerk,
with the snappishness winch only I'ost OHice officials
can command, and which roused the inHanunable blood
of the young countrywoman of Helen Macgicgor.

"What you'll ask for? You'll look your book,
and you'll saw there," the girl tartly replied (she
had got an oider a short time previous).

" I must know wher * your ordei' is to go to," said
the clerk, firmly.

The girl goes to the door and brings in a
companion who explained that the order was for
Tobermory.

;4'

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THISTLEDOWN

Who is to ^ct till' Older?
My niollu'i", lo lie smcly."

ml, is your niollu'i''s imiiu'

Mv iiiotlicr's nmnc is Mi-s. iM-'rHvisli."
WIdiI. is your iiiollu'r''s (Iliristiun ii.uiU'P"
\Vliat yoifll want, to know wlicllicr my (^liiistiaii

)ll

H' a inol liiT or not

(lClllMll(tC(

1 tl

If Hill, now 111 H

jn'rlec't i.i^c with ani;cr. "My niollur 1m' ji f^ood
Chiistijin wonijiii, ami will tijo lo llie I'Vce Clinrch
ill Toln rniory r\(My Sabbalh, wliioli is iiiaybo more

laii you

11 (1

" I (loiTt want to know anytliiiii^ alxiut what
cluuvli your niotlu'r g(H's to; I only wish to know
luT Chiisliaii uaiiu','" now, souirwhat mildly, cx-
plaiiK'il the cloik,

"My motlu'i's iiaiiu' is Mrs. M'Tavish," replied
the j^irl, "'and sheV the deeenler inairietl woiiians
than VDU are, and Til not ted any mans horn any
more, whatever," and oil" she marched in the very
hii;hest dudi!;eon.

Donald is proud of liis native heath, proud ol" his
native dress, proud of his name and clan, proud ol
everythiu<ij pi-rtainiiig exclusively to his native hills.
He claims for the (iaelic that it is not only the lx.\st
but oiu? of tlie oldest laiiiruau'es in the world. He

would not like to

^y J

t /h

(' vei"

Idest.

humorous poet no doubt luis asserted that —

When Eve, all fresh in beauty's charms.
First met fond Adam's view,

The first word that he'll spoke to her
Was '* Cia mar a tha thu an duidhi'^

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SCREEDS O' TARTAN

"Hilt, (lid yoiTlI ojjscrvc,^ snys DomiM, "if'ih wm
til (Jai'Iic tliiit WHS ,s|)()kct in bi (iuidrn of I'ldt-n,
iiuivIm' llicy'll sav la Tccvii was a Ilicladdiiian, and
slic wouldn'l likf llial to pc ah <JI, wlialx^vcr ! ''

I have said tliai, I1m> 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 <lay ta QiieeiTs
dochter wjis to he married to ta Tukc o"" Ar^ylPs
son — ta Mar(|uis o' liOrne?"'"'

"Ay, ay, did yon-11 told nie that? Well, well,
iVs the prood, prood mans ta Queen will be this
(lay.

Oil the (jcciusion aforesaid there was, of course,
great fiational rejoicing, and the town of Inverness
wius, like evrry othei" municip.'dit v, illuminated at
night.

" Dear me, Donald," exclaimed one local shop-
kei'pcr to anotlu'r, as he issued from his own door,
"dill you ever behold the likes of that? 'niere''s
five-fourths of the; whole town under luminations
this vicht!"

"Toots, man, Angus, Fli thought that you know

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better tliau spoke like that," replied his neighbour.
" A fourth is a (juarter, and five quarters would be
more than t.lie whole."

" Och, Donald Fraser, my lad," retorted Angus,
"I've seen too many snowy days not to know what
ril say. Tve got cloths in my own shop six-quartei's,
and that is more — there, now, with your ignorance."

The following is an anuising instance of the
tenaciby with which the Highlanders hold to the
honours and anti(|uitv of their kindred. A dispute
arose between a Campbell and a M'Lean upon the
never-ending subject. The M'Lean would not allo\*
that the Campbells had any right to rank with his
clan in the matter of anti([uity, who, he insisted,
were in existence as a clan from the beginning of
the world. Campbell had a little more Biblical lore
than his antagonist, and asked him if the (ylan
M'Lean was before the Flood.

"Flood! what Hood.?" demanded the M'Leaa.

"The Flood that you know drowned all the world
but Noah and his family, and his flocks and herds,"
said Campbell.

" Pooh ! you and your flood too," said the M'Lean.
*' My clan w;is before ta Flood."

"I have not read in my Bible," said Campbell,
"of the name of M'Lean going into Noah''s Ark."

" Noah's Ark ! " snorted the M'Lean ; " who ever
heard of a M'Lean that had not a boat of his own .'' "

There wjis a fine exhibition of clan pi-ide afforded
during the years the late Earl of Airlie acted as

288

SCREEDS O' TARTAN

Lord High Commissioner to the Geueial Assembly
of the Church of Scotland. Amonj^st his attendants
at Holyrood wei'e two ])ipei's, wl-o, at e\ery dinner
given to the clergy and oHier guests at the Palace,
nmrched several times round the large dinitig-hall
playing the wild and inspiriting nuisic of the
Highlands. One evening the Moderahor of the
Assembly, at some one''s recjuest, tusked his Grace
whether he had any objections to instruct the pipers
to play "The Bonnie House o' Airlie."

"None whatever,'"' replied the Earl, "but I doubt
whether we shall get it, for the one piper is jui
Ogilvie and the other is a Campbell ; but we shall

Calling the butler, he ga\e ordei-s that when the
pipers next came in they should play "The Bonnie
House o' Airlie."

The butler went at once with the message. By
and by the pipes were heard aj)proaehing, and in a
little, one piper, the Ogilvie, marched in, playing
the desired tune with great dignity and vigour.

"I expected this," said the Earl in a joculai' way
to the Moderator.

Sunnnoning the butler again, he asked whether
his message had been delivered.

"Yes, my lord."

"Then why has Campbell not come in with
Ogilvie?"

"I gave him your message, my lord."

" What did he say then ? " "^

289

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THISTLEDOWN

111*.

I >

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

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

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THISTLEDOWN

d' '

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|fl

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

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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\(<l nhoul,
ratlier sulKily until, l)y and by, he diseoNcred the
object of his quest, approachiu"^ wlu)ui, he said, witlx
half-averted face, and eyes fixed on vacancy — •

"W)us you the old lady I was told to go to
Jericho ?"

"Yes,"" ri'plied the lady, snappisldy.

"Well, the Caj)taiu .says you're not to go now ! "
said Duncan ; and oil' he went, a;id h;id half a do/iii
])a.s.sengcis'' trunks in confusion on dick In-fore the
lady liad time to adjust her spectacles and see where
he had vanished to.

Spi'aking of boats. Not long ag(j ;i couple of
Highland farnieis, recognised as folks of some
importance in their own inniiediati; neighbourhood,
left Stornoway l)y steamer with the view of attending
an important market in the SouHi. Tlie weather
looked good at the start, and considering this in
conjunction with the fact that it would l)e .so nmch
cheaper, and few, or none, of tlu)se on board would
know them, they resolved on travelling stei'i'age.
So far so good, But they had not been long out
on the billowy deep when it commenced to blow a
perfect hurricane, and all on board became alarmed

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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(iu<r doon as cabin passengers
anywaij."'

Another example here, in evidence oi the Iligh-
lander"'s peculiar powers of reasoning. Donald
?»Licgregor, lilvc his more illustrious namesake, Rob
Roy, Mils a notoiious sheep and cattle-lifter in the
Highlands of Perthshire. At last he was overtaken
by the grim tyrant of the human race, and was
visited by the minister of tlie parish in which he
resided. The holy man waimly exhorted the dying
reiver to reflect U])on the long and black catalogue
of his sins be. ore it was too late ; otherwise, he
would have a tremendous account to give at the
great day of retribution, wlien all the crimes he had
connnitted in the world would appear in dreadful
array as evidence of his guilt.

" Och, sirsc," cried the dying man, " and will all

244

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all

SCREEDS O* TARTAN

ta shc'ops and all ta cows and all ta things that
Donald hjis helped hensor to, be theri!?'"'

" Undoubtedly/'' replied the pai-son.

"Och, tlmt will pe all right then ; slmst let every
shentlenians took her own, and Donald Macgregor
will be ta honest man again."

And now, as the universal " Auld I^jing Syne"
has formed the paiting-song of so many nieriy
meetings at home and abroad, let the following
clever set of verses, the reputed composition of a
talented Perthshire divine of the *' Auld Kirk,"
afford the finishing touch to the present sederunt
of anecdotal fun : —

AULD LANG SYNE, DONE UP IN TARTAN.

Should Gaelic speech be e'er forgot,

And never brocht to niin'.
For she'll be spoke in Paradise

In the days o' auld lang syne.

When Eve, all fresh in beauty's chamis.

First met fond Adiim's view.
The first word that he'll spoke to her

Was " Cia mar a tha thu an duxdh ? "

And Adam, in his garden fair.

Whene'er the day did close.
The dish that he'll to suj)per teuk

Was always Athol brose.

When Adam from his leafy bower

Cam' out at break o' day.
He'll always for his morning teuk

A quaich of usquebae.

245

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1'
11

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I,.

THISTLEDOWN

And when wi' Kvo he'll had a crack.
He'll tcuk his sneeshin' horn.

And on the tap yr'Il weel mieht mark
A bruw big Cairngorm.

The sneeshin' mull is fine, my fricn's.
The sneeshin' mull is grand :

We'll teuk a hearty sneesh, my frien's.
And pass't from hand to hand.

When man first fand the want o' olaes.

The wind and eauld to fieg.
He twisted roinid about hims waist

The tartan phiiabeg.

And nnisic first on earth was heard

In Gallic accents deep.
When Jubfd in his oxter squeezed

The blether o' a sheep.

The braw bagpipes is grand, my I'rien's,

The braw bagpipes is fine ;
Wi-'Il teuk another pibroch yet.

For the days o' auld hmg syne.

'Mil

HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS

'^<

CHAPTER X

HUMOUR OK S( oniSH I'OETS

THERE have boon few great pot'ts — few poets
of any a[)j)reciable quality, indeed — anywheiv,
who have not had a lively and ap[)ri'eiative sense of
humour, if they have not actually been positive and
j)roductive humourists. It is a faculty of the human
mind without which iio man can be intellectually
great — without which no view of life can be
comprehensive and true ; a faculty without which
Shakespeare could no more liave soundi-d the gamut
of human feeling as he did than a man who is
coloui-blind could describe the glowing iridescence
of the rainbow. In Burns and Scott, the most
notiible among Scottish poets — and mighty influences
both in the repuolic of letters — the faculty of
original liumour was revealed to an extraordinary
degree. In the case of Scott the playfulness of his
fancy was made manifest essentially, no doubt, in
the Wuvcrley Novels^ and in convei-sations with
individuals ; his poetry being mainly martial and
moving, and severe rather than lightsome. In
Burns, the greater poet, and the more impulsive
genius, there was revealed the greater humourist and
the ri'adier wit, as well as the finer sentimentalist.
Alone amid the sublimities of Nature, or touched

247

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THISTLEDOWN

by the nuist? in her diviiuT nuxxls, he was revcn'iit
in spirit and glowrd with adoration jus IV-rvitl and
sini'ci'f as vwv aniniatitl the brrast of tlu' royal
Ilt'hrrw bard hiinscU"; bnt promptt'd to join the
social circle at l!ie festive board, and tired l)y the
spirit of fnn, he woiihl da/./Ie and ileh^ht a party
for hours i«)gether by tlie brilliance and rapichty of
his flashes of ready wit and htnnorons s;itire. The
most ample and etlective examples of lini'ns's humour
occui", of coui'se, in liis poems — notably in "Tain o'
Shanter,"" and ''The .Folly He<^i;ai"s " ; in his son{^
" Dinican (iray,""Tam (ilen," and " Sic a Wife as
Willie had"; and in some of the rhynu'd epistles.
Tlie impromplu epitaphs and i'pi<4rams, etc., which
find a place in nearly cveiT eflition of his works,
aflbrd convincing evidence of the punj^-ncy of his
electric wit, and tbe annihilating weight of his
e(pially ready siitire. IJut with all of tiiese —
particnlaily tlie poems and the songs — every adult
peison in Scotland is scj familiar that to (piote from
one or other of them lu're would be something liki'
snperfhions lahoni*. A few of the niml)K'r of tlu'
inn)rom[)tu rhymes and cpigiams, with desciiptions
of the circmnstances under wh.ich thev were provoked,
may, liowever, be repioduced en jxissant. The pi<x:ess
will freshen the reader"'s memory, if it does not
actually enlighten his mind.

Burns, like true steel, was ever ready to give fire
at the touch of the flint, and being present in a
company where an ill -educated jidfvenu w<is Ixjring

248

HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS

eveiyom; by iKMisliiig of the nmny grwit people he
Imd lalcly Iwi-ii visit iii;^, tlie poet ^avt; vent tc» his
fV-eliii^s in tlie following improni|)lu staii/n, Nsliiih
we iniiy he sure elli'cfiiHlly .sileiicitl the huhliliiig
snob Ik lore him : —

" No more of your titled nrqiiiiintanccs boast.
And in what lordly <'irrU'.s you've beeu ;
An insect is only au insert at most,
Thouf^h it crawl on the eiirls of a queen."

Having been storni-stcxl oi;e Sunday at I,.iniington,
in Clvdesdale, the poet went to cliureh, hiit the day
was so cold, the place so uncomfortable, and the
sennon so poor, that he left this protest on the pew
which he liad occupied : —

*' As cauld a wind as ever blew,
A cauKliT kirk, and in't but few ;
As cauld a priath^'r's ever spak' —
Ye'U a' be het ere I conie back."

Wliile in Edinburgh, he visiti-d at the studio of a
well-known painter, who was at that time engaged
on a picture of Jacob's di'eam. Burns en)lHMlied his
criticism of the work iti the following lines, which he
VTote on the back of a sketch still preservetl in the
painter's family : —

" Dear , I'll gie yc some advice.

You'll tak' it no uncivil ;
You shouldna paitit at angels mair,

But try and paint tlie devil.
To paint an angel's kittle wark,

Wi' Aiild Nick there's less danger;
You'll easy draw a weel-kent face.

But no sac weel a stranger."

i>49

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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

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HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS

and <li(l so in four lines rovealing native wit, by

siiying : —

" O Ix)rd, sine we have feasted thus,
Which we so httle iiu'rit.
Let Mvfx now take away the tiesh.
And Jock bring in tiie spirit."

Than Bnnis's epitaph " On u Suiciile,"" nothing
more seatiiingly sainistic wns ever written. It is
as if he could not express too much scorn of the
niisi'iahle coward who W(uild eschew the obHgations
of hfe by an act of self-destruction : —

" Earth'd up, here Ues an imp o' hdl.
Planted by Satan's dibbh;;
Poor, silly wrefih, he's danuied himsel'
To save the Lord the trouble."

Burns wivs standing one day on the quay at
Greenock, when a wealthy nieichaiit belonging to
the town had the niisfoitune to tall into the harboui'.
He wius no swinnner, and would ceiiainlv have l)ei'n
drowne<l liad not a .sailor, at the risk of his own life,
plunged in and i-estiied him fi'om his dangerous
situation. The merchant, upon recovering a little
from his fright, put his hand into his pocket and
presented the sailor with a .shilling. The crowd,
who were by this time collected, loudly pi'oti'sted
against the insignificance of the sum ; but Burns,
with a smile of ineffable scorn, entreate<l them to
restrain their clamour, " For,"' said lie, " the gentle-
man is, of coui'se, the be.st judge of the value of his
own life.""

251

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THISTLEDOWN

A wriirr wlio hapjM'iuil \o Im? prcsitit in u coinpaiiy
(ili)ii;.^ with HiiniH wiicii tlic coiivii'sutioii tdrticd on
"'ram ()' Sliaiitci/' and stim^, pcrliaps, with thu
sarcastic touch on the legal fraternity —

•' Three liiwyers' tonpfues turned inside out,
Wi' lees seemed like h beggtir's flout,"

reniarke<l tliat he thought the w itches'' orgies obscuiv.

"Ohscine, sir," exclainied the j)oet ; "ye know not
the language of the great master of your owti art;
the (lv\ il ! If you get a witch for your client, you
will not he ahle to manage her defence.''

Burns lived five months in a house which was
oc(Uj)ied by an old man named David Cully, or
Ki'lly. The poet sometimes read hooks not usually
seen in jn'ople's hands on the Sahhath. His landlord
checked him for this, when the l)ard laughingly
replii'd —

" You'll not think me so good a man iis Nancy
Kelly is a woman, I suppose?*"

" Indeed, no."

"Then ril tell you what haj)pened tins morning.
When I took a walk hy the banks o"* the Nith, I
heard Nancy Kelly praying long befoi'e I came to
her. I walked on, and before I returned I saw her
helping herself to an ainiful of my fitches." The
parties kept a cow.

On one occasion Nance and the bard were sitting

in tl

ie " spence.

when the former turned the con-

versation on her favourite topic — religion. Burns

252

)any

I on

llu'

scinx'.
iw not
i\ art ;
t, you

'\x was

lly, or
usually
u\(llor(l
^hinj^ly

Nancy

lorning.
Nith, I
:iin»o to
iiiw hfi-
The

B sitting
he con-
Burns

HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS

Hynipatliiscd with thf nmfron, and (juotcd so nmcli
Script HIT that she was lairlv astonished, Hy innl hv
she said to her hushand, "Oh, Dauvit, how tiny
have wraiij^ed that man ; fori think he li..-, niair o'
the Hihir on iiis tonifue than Mr. Ini^Hs him i T."
Mr. In«;hs uas the Aiiti-hiir^hcr minister. Hums
enjoyed that comj)linient, and uhnost the first thing
lie comnnmicatid to his wife on her arrival was the
lilt he had got from old Nance.

Tium "the glorious ploughman," no one was
kindir to such helpless creatures as were weak in
mind, and who satuitered haiinlessly about. A poor
half-witted creutur*' — the Madge Wildlire, it is saitl,
of Scott — always found a mouthtul ready h>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

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

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.

In '

ilill':

It I'

III

*■

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

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:

'■H;.

.■MJ^'I

( •

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

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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

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

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:'i

ii'

\pi

.( I

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)ie<likes — to have his mind peopUd like a
market-place with familiar figures, and his memory
serving Ins tongue with passage upon passage, page
upon page, and all with the freedom and rapidity of
electric telegraphy. The tem})tation to (piote now
is strong ; but I nnist vesist it in order to overtake
less fanrlliar, though peihaps less deU'ctable niatter.
ITow humoui' w ill sei've one in ciirunistances where
sheer elociuence might pall is well illustratetl by
an important incident in the life of Scott. When
George IV. visiUd Scotland in 1812, Sir Walter
was largely "in evidence" in Edinburgh, eager to
greet his Sovereign and afford hini a royal welcome.
Elaborate pre[)arations harl been made in the Capital
in order that the reception might be worthy of the
illustrious visitor, but when the royal yacht arrived
in the Forth, the rain poured down in torrents.
Sir Walter accordingly visited the King on board,
and, in asking him to defer his landing on account
of the inclemericy of the weather, made one of the
happiest speeches of his life — a speech which we

262

HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POLTS

may he sure tlelighted no one more than the King
himself: —

" Iniputient, Sire," said he, "as your loyal subjects
are to see you plant your foot upon their soil, they
hope you will consent to postpone your public entry
until to-morrow. In seeing the state of the weather,
I am myself forcibly rejninded of a circumstance
which once occuii'ed to n>e. 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

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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 sev<T the tie ;
Wi' boring and boosing, and snoring and snoozing.
Ye emulate him that inhabits— the sty."

George Outrani, another Glasgow poet, claims
particular attention when and wherever the humoiu'
of Scottish poets and poetry is the subject of consi-
deration. Such of his pieces as "The Annuity/''
"Drinkin"" Drams," and "Souniin"' an' UouminV' ai*e
amongst the most bumoursome effusions in the
native tongue. The tempeiance cause has made
great progress since the bacchanalian heroic above
named was peimc<l, and it is now the teetotallers who
laugh most over the ironical humour expressed in
the lines. His " Atmuity'' is familiar to everybody,
and the same may be said of ** Soumin' an' Roumin'.**
The following illustration of his wit in the shape

265

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THISTLEDOWN

of un epij^nm, wliiili lu* composed on lunriti^ a )>u\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

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V <r;

i^ a liidy
linwi'Vi'V,

subjoiiu'il

on.

burly :

poot-luini-
son, nnIu)si'

iiKonipiu-
.•onlnlnitrtl
>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<i lier,
the yi»nng ''"Jy» *^ '>• 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

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THISTLEDOWiN

composrd tlio followiii}^ amipliiucutiiry I'pi^iHin,
wliieli liL' st'iit wihh liis noli' of jH'kiu»vvU'<!gincut to
tlu! C.'<jiiritt'HS : —

" Now l*rianj's son, yc may be nmtc,
Fur I rnii htiiildly bra^ with ttieet
Tliou t(i the fairest gave tlic fruit —
The fairest gave ttie fruit to me."

Neatly tunu'd, you siiy ! ^\s ; but, not content
with .sending llu; epigram to the person lor v.lioiii
it was particularly intended, he enclosed a copy to
his friend IJudgell, who soon sent him hack the
suhjoined connnent upon it, whieli, we nei-d not
doubt, severely wounded the vanity of the wig
maker poet : —

•* As Juno fair, as Venus kind,

Siie may have been who gave the fruit;
Hut had she had Minerva's mind.
She'd ne'er have givcn't to such a brute."

The following epigram, by a living Scottish writer,
is decidedly pointed and clever, and has the additional
merit of being self-explanatory : — •

•* He was a burglar stout and strong,
Who lield ' It surely can't be wrong,
To open trunks and riHe shelves.
For "God helps those who help themselves." '
But when before the court he came,
And boldly rose to plead the same.
The judge replied — * That's very true;
You've helped yourself— noio Ood help you/***

268

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HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS

I Imvc Hpoki'ii i)t' Profissor A) totiii, jhhI liis cori-
iu>(;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 fislie<l out Irom his warcholK; the
kilt witli vhi.h he hud eleelrified the men of Tlunso
in his iMjyish days. Arra\ing himself in this, and
a hliio cloth jacket with white metal buttons, which
he had f^ot years before to act a chaiity boy, in a
charade, he completed his costume by a scarf across
his shoulders, short hose, and brogues! The brevity
of the kilt produced a m(>st 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

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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, 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<l Bulwer
Lytton in the pages of Punch, and the nioie recent
scal{)ing .scuffle which took place between BuchanaJi,
Swinburne, and llossetti. The wit of the poet is

271

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THISTLEDOWN

indispensable for affording the proper point to the
sting of humorous satire. Here is a good example: —
A few ycare ago the late William C. Cameron, of
Gbvsgow, a shoemaker to trade, and author of a
meritt)rious volume of verses, enlitled Lights Shade^
and Toil, contributed a little poem to the cohnnns
of the Wcekhj Hcraldy each succeeding stanza of
which optiK'd somewhat ostentatiously with the re-
quest — " "Write me my epitaph ! " one entire veree
being : — ■

" Write me my epitaph ! short let it be,
Say that here, 'neath the sod, lies one of the free,
One who has wrote and stuig the lays of tlie poor.
One who has loved more than gold, field, wood, and moor."

Responsive to the poefs retjuest a local bard wrote,
and the Herald of the following week contained
" His Epitaph," in these words : —

" Toil over, lArjlit snuffed out, himself a Shade,
For evermore removed from pitiless chaff,
Hicjdcct! — A judicious reader made
(Excuse his tears) this touching epitaph."

Poets there have been, too, who were their own most
merciless censors. Robert Chambers tells that when
the Genei'al Assembly of the Church of Scotland
detei-mined on extending their body of psalmody,
they addressed a circular to the clergy, praying that
those who were so inclined would compose para-
phrases of scripture, and transmit them to Edinburgh
for the inspection of the Assembly, that a proper

070

HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS

selection might be made for use. A very old man,
and very primitive minister in Caithness, wtis roused
by this request from prosaic letharyy of a whole life-
time, and felt a latent spark of poetry suddenly arise
in his bosom. So instantaneous \v;us the effeet of
this inspii-ation, that on the very Sunday after he
had received the Assembly's circular, he had pre-
pared a paiaphrase which he determined to read
aloud to his congregation. The first verse ran as
follows : —

" The Deil shall ryve them a' in rags,
Th;it wicked are in vain ;
But if they're gucle and do repent.
They shall be sew'd again."

But this was quite enough, the audience burst out
into such a transport of laughter on hearing it that
the ingenious author saw fit to suppress the rest, and
abandon his poetical attempt.

Then Zachary Boyd, of facetious memory, minister
of the Barony Church, Glasgow, in the time of
Charles L, and who translated the Bible into verse,
the MS. of which is preserved in the library of the
University of Glasgow to this day, must have been a
frank fellow. He sings : —

** There was a man called Job,
Dwelt in the land of Uz ;
He had a good gift of tlic gob.
The same thing happens us."

A fatal "gift o' the gob,"" alas ! — for perfectly con-
vincing proof of which see the following verses from

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Ins

((

History of Jonah *" — a gem per se. Jonah —
according to the pot-t — soliloqui.seth —

" What house is this, where 's neither coal nor candle.
Whore I no tiling? but guts of fishes hiiiuUe ;
The like of this on earth man neviT saw,
A living man within a monster's maw.

Noe in his ark might goe and also come.
But I sit still In such a .straitened roonie.
As is most inicouth, head and feet togetlier.
Among such grease as would a thousand smother.

In all the earth like unto me is none,
Farre frcin all living I heere lye alone,
Where I entonilicd in melancholy sink,
Cboak't, suffocat, with excremental stink."

On Burns''s first visit to Edinburgh he was intro-
duci'd, among many others, to a Mr. Taylor, then
parochial schoohn?ister at Currio, and, in his own
estimation, a poet of no mean order. The nieeting
was clfected at the house of Mr. Heron, at whose
table Burns wjis a fre(j[uent gnest. Taylor brought
with him his Iwok of manuscript poems, a few of
which were rend to Bin-ns for his favourable opinion
previous to ])riiiting. Some of the passages were odd
enough, such as this, on the title-page —

** Rin, bookie, rin, roTmd the warld lowp.
Whilst I lie in the yird wi' a cauld dowp,"

at which Bums laughed heartily. Next morning
Mr. Heron meeting Taylor, enquired of him what he
thought of the Ayishire poet.

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HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS

"Hoot," ijuoth the self-udniiring pwlagogno, "the
lad'H do ; considering his want o"* lear, he's weel
eneuch/*'

Though not like it, the foregoing recalls a good
anecdote of the poet Campbell, which recently a[)-
peared in print for the first time, in the columns of
the Christian Leader.

The author of " The Pleasures of Hope " Ixiing on
a visit to Ayrshire, happened to go into a bookseller's
shop in Kilmarnock. The bookseller, as he entered,
whispered something over the counter to a portly
and comely old lady, who wms making a small pur-
chase of sealing-wax and notepaper. "Lord save
us," she replied, in an audible whisper, "ye dinna
mean it ! "

" It's true, I tell ^e,"" siiid the bookseller, also in a
whisper.

The old lady turned towards the poet and said,
not without betraying a slight embarrassment : "An'
sae ye' re the great Thomas Campbell ; are ye ? I'm
vera prood to meet y(?, sir, and didna think when I
left hame in the moniin' that sic a great honour was
to bc'fa' me."

The poet felt much flattcied by this tribute ; but
confusion took entii-e possession of hitn, as the worthy
old soul contiiiucd: "There's no a man in Ayrshire
that has the great skill ye hae, ]Mr. Campbell, and I
wad be greatly obleeged to ye if ye wad come and
see my coo before ye leave this pait o' the countiy,
an' let nie ken if ye can do onything for her. She's

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a young beastie, and a guid beastie, and I shouldna
like to lose her."'''

There was an eminent veterinary surgeon, or cow
doctor, in the neighoiu'ing county of Dumfries, whose
nauje was also Thomas Campbell, and the wortliy
woman had mistaken the poet for this celebrated
and doubtless highly respectable person.

Of Campbell and Leyden, Gilfillan tells an inter-
esting and instructive story in his Life of Sir Walter
Scott. The former thought the latter boiistful and
self-asserting; Leyton thought Campbell jealous and
envious. And there was perhaps a modicum of truth
in their estimates of each other. Campbell had been
unfortunate and not over well conducted in his
youth ; had been hindered by circumstances in his
path to the pulpit ; and this, along with poverty,
had soured him. Yet he was a fine-hearted fellow
in the main, as well as a thoroughly true one.
Leyden had something of the self-glorification of
the wild Indian chief, fond of showing his strings of
scalps, and chanting fierce war-songs over his fallen
foes ; but he, too, was sincere, warm-hearted and
guileless. "VVlicn he read Campbeirs " Ilohenlin-
den,"" he said to Scott, " Dash it ! I hate the fellow,
but he has written the best vei-ses I have read for
ever so long;" to which Campbell replied, "I detest
Leyden with all my soul, but I know the value of
his critical approbation."

Every Scottish reader is familiar with Bums's
weird and inimitable "Address to the Deil,"" and

276

HUMOUR OF SCOTTISH POETS

houldna

I, or cow
js, whose
I worthy
ilcbrated

an inter-
ir Walter
Lstful and
alous and
1 of truth
had been
id in his
ces in his
1 poverty,
'ted fellow
I true one.
ication of
strings of
• his fallen
luted and
Ilohenlin-
:he fellow,
|e read for
" I detest
16 value of

th Bums's
)eil," and

some are aware thnt more tiian one of our native
bards — from a desire to "give the deil his due," as
we may suppose — have essayed to catch up the giiui
humour of the original effusion, and eom[)ose a suit-
able reply to it. I have myself seen three efforts of
the kind, each of them more or less clever : one by
Ebenezer Picken, of Paisley, who died in 1816 ; and
two of unknown authorship. For pungency of wit
and skill of vei-sification, one of the latter — cut from
a Scottish newspaper published in Burns's lifetime —
indisputably " beais the gree,"" and forms a not un-
worthy companion-poem to the original " ^Yddress."
It is somewhat lengthy, but its rarity, considered in
conjunction with its merit, will justify its quotation
in full : —

THE DEIL'S REPLY TO ROBERT BURNS.

O waes me, Rab ! hae ye gane gyte ;
What is't that gars ye tak' delight
To jeer at me, and ban, and flyte.

In Scottish rhyme.
And fausely gie me a' the wyte

O' ilka crime .''

O* auld nicknames ye hae a fouth,
O' sharp sarcastic rhymes a routh.
And as ye're bent to gie them scouth,

'Twere just as weel
For you to tell the honest truth.

And shame the deil.

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III

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.

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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<rorv

And weel writ doon ;
The wark o' an Egyptian Tory—

I kent the loon.

Your tale o' Job, the man o' Uz,
VVi' reekit claes, and reested guiz.
My hornie hooves, and brockit phiz,

Wi' ither clatter.
Is maistly, after a' the bizz,

A moonshine matter.

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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.

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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

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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

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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 : —

* 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 ?

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" 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."

■/

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

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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 tauntin<rly repelling the
last despairing claim of a wretched cul})iit, and
sending him to Botany Bay or the gallows with
an insulting jest, over which he would chuckle
the more from observing that correct people were
shocked. To an euwjuent culprit at the bar he once
said — " YeVe a vera clever chielv?, my man, but ye
wad be nane the waur o' a b/i i^;;(>g,"" 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

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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

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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

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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

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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."

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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-

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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 <is to stature. Strang wjis (piitc on Auak in
lu'ight, whilst Ihuce was so diminutive that he was
facetiously known as " Zaccheus."" \Vlicn Sheriff
Barbour, of Invwmess, was api)ointed a Lord of
Session, under the title of Lord Skelton, lie was
naturally ignorant of the new membera of the bar
in Parliament House, from which he had been away
for twenty years.

On an early day after Lord Skelton began his
duties in the Coui-t of Session he wjis hearing a case
in which Ihuce appeared for the piosecution, while
Strang had been retained for the defence. Brute,
duly arrayed in vrig and gown, the latter of which
effectually hid his short legs, was standing behind
the Advocate's table, and had got under weigh In
his opening remaiks for the prosecution, when his
Lordship interposed, with the slightest manifestation
of feeling —

" It is usual, Mr. Bruce, for an advocate to stand
when he addresses the Court.""

" I am standing, my Lord,"" replied Bmce, defer-
entially.

" Oh, I beg a thousand pai-dons ! ** resumed Lord
Skelton, feeling bitterly his unfortunate remark, and
bowing his head for a few minutes towards his papere.

Bruce continuing his opening address, his Lordship
took courage and looked up, when he saw at the
other end of the bar the tall figure of Strang,

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towering up abo\e his fellows. Thinking he had
risen to interpose some remark against the opposing
counsers speech, he hurriedly said —

" Kindly sit down, Mr. Strang ; Mr. Bruce is
before the Court just now. I shall gladly hear you
afterwards."''

" I am sitting, my Lord,"" explained Strang, to the
utter discomfiture of the astounded judge, and amidst
the roars of laughter of all the members of the bar.

It was of these two able fellows that a waggish
brother-barrister made the impromptu epigram —

'* To the heights of the law, though I hope you will rise,
You will never be judges, I'm sure of a(s)size."

Lawyers, like editors, have been frequently made
the butt of the satirist ; but illustrations of their
wit and humour, such as are here deduced — and
they could be multiplied almost to any extent —
show how well able they have been to hold their own
— yea, to rout the enemy. Jeffrey wjis frequently
more than equal to the occasion. Wlien addressing
a jury in a certain trial, he had occasion to speak
freely of a militaiy officer who was a witness in the
cause ; and having frequently described him as " this
soldier,'^ the witness, who was present, could not
restrain himself, but started up, and called out —
" Don''t call me a soldier, sir ; I am an officer ! "
"Well, gentlemen of the jury," proceeded Jeffrey,
" this officer who, according to his own statement, is
no soldier,"" etc.

298

'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR

Aiid what cause could the hvelier of thcni not
extract ftm from ? At a juiy trial in the town of
Jedburgh, in which Moncrieff, Jeffrey, and Cockburn
wei _ engaged as counsel, while the former wtis ad-
dresvsing the juiy, Jeffrey passed a slip of paper to
Cockburn, with the following ciiae for his opinion : —

" A legacy was lately left by an old lady to the
Peer of Aberdeen. As the will was written by the
Dowager hei'self, and by no means distinguished for
correctness of orthography or expression, a dispute
has arisen as to the intent of the testator ; and the
following claimants have appeared for the legacy : —
1st, the Earl of Aberdeen ; 2nd, the Commissioners
for erecting the pier at Aberdeen ; and, 3rd, the
Manager of the Charity Workhouse, who grounds
his right on the fact that the old lady was in the
habit, more mojonim, of pronouncing poor peer. To
which of the parties does the money belong ? "

Cockburn immediately wrote in answer — "To
none of the three ; but to the Horticultural Society
of Scotland for the pui'pose of promoting the culture
of a sort of fruit called, or to be called, the Pear of
Aberdeen.'^''

Many humorous instances of attempts to evade
the law, and successful and unsuccessful attempts to
get the better of it, could be cited; but most of
them, of necessity, have been wicked as well as witty,
and lie somewhat outside of my subject. Otie or
two, however, may be tolerated, and the fii-st, which
reveals a biter neatly bitten, will be enjoyed. A

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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.

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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'?''

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" 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

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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

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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<vsy, my woithy friend,
you'll get perfect jiistke about this time six weeks'" —
six weeks being then the period allowed to elapse
b<;tween a sentence of death and its execution.

That recalls a story told by Dr. Rogei-s conceiTi-
ing Sir John Hay, Bart., at one time Sheiiff-
Substitute of Stirlingshire, and one of the most
facetious members of his oider. Sir John had a
habit, even when sitting on the bench, of crooning,
or whistling, in an undertone, one or other of the
Scottish aii-s. A youthful panel was in his court,
found guilty of an act of larceny, for which in those
days a sentence of banishment might be pronounced.
After awarding him a sentence of imprisonment for
a period. Sir John added, "and take care you don't

come here again, my man, or- ," and he closed the

interview by hunnning the tune " Ower the Water
to Charlie,'" affording a gentle hint, which was no
doubt well enough undei-stood.

The Judges and Counsel engaged in our Scottish
Law Courts, it has been seen, have been a peculiarly
witty and entertaining set, and the same may be said
of some of the witnesses who have passed through
their fingers. The following examination, which took
place in a question tried in 1817, in the Juiy Court,

306

ottish
uliarly
)c said
iroiigh
)h took
Court,

'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR

between the Tnistecs on tlie Kin^horn russ.ii^o and
the town of Kirkcnldv, iiff'oals a striking ilkistmtion
of the Ciinnieni'ss of one.

The witness wfis called on the paii of the tnisteos,
and apj)j;rently full of tluir interest. The coiiiisel
having heard that the man had got the present of a
coat from the clerk to the trustees before Cx iiiing to
attend the trial, thought proper to interrogate him
on that point ; as, by proving this, it would have
the cdect of c()m[)letely setting tiside his testimony.
The examination W)us as follows : — •

" Pray, where did you get that coat ? "

The witness (looking obliquely down on the sleeve
of his coat, and from thence to the counsel), with a
mixture of effVonteiy and confusion, exclaimed — ■

" Coat, coat, sir 1 Whare got I that coat ? ''

" I wish to know where you got that coat ?"

" Maybe ye ken whare I got it ? "

** No ; but we w ish to know fiom whom you got it ?"

*' Did ye gi'e me that coat ? "

"Tell the jury where you got that coat ? "

" Whafs your business wi' that ? "

*' It is material that you tell the court where you
got that coat ? "

"I'm no obleeged to tell about my coat."

" Do you not recollect whether you bought that
coat, or whether it was given to you ? "

" I caima recollect eveiything about my coats —
whan I get them, or whare I get them."

*' You said you remembered perfectly well about

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the boats forty-two years ago, ami the people that
lived at Kirkcaldy then, and John More's boat ; and
am you not recollect where you got that coat you
have on at present ? "

" Tni no gaiin to say onything about coats."
"Did ]\Ir. Douglas, clerk to the trustees, give you
that coat ? "

" Hoo do you ken onything alx)ut that ? "
" I ask you, did Mr. Douglas, clerk to the trustees,
give you that coat ? "

" Tin no bound to answer that question, but merely
to tell the truth."

" So you wcju't tell where you got that coat ? "
" I didna get the coat to do onything wrang for't ;
I didna engage to say onything that wasna true."

The Lord Chief Connnissioner, when the witness
was going out of the box, called him back antl
observed, "^rhc Court wish to know from you some-
thing farther about this coat. It is not believed or
suspected that you got it improj)erly or dishonestly,
or that there is any reason for your concealing it.
You may have been disinclined to speak about it,
thinking that there was something of insult or
reproach in the question put from the bar. You
must be sensible that the bench can have no such
intention : and it is for your credit, and the aike of
your testimony, to disclose fairly where you got it.
There may be discredit in concealing, but none in
telling where you got it.

" Where did you get the coat ? ""

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'TWEEN BENCH AND BAR

" Tin no obleogc'd to tell about my coat/'

" Tiue, you are not obliged to tell where you got
it, but it is for yonr own credit to tell.""

" I didna come here to tell about coats, but to tell
about boats and pinnaces."

" If you do not tell, I must throw aside your
evidence altogether.""

" Tm no gaun to say onything about my coat ;
I'm no obleeged to say onything about it,""

Witness went away, and was called b;ick by Loixl
Gillies.

" How long have you had that coat ? ""

" I diruia ken how lang I ha'e had my coat. I
ha'e plenty o' coats. I dinna mind about this coat
or that coat."

" Do you rememlxir anything near the time : have
you had it a year, a month, or a week ? Have you
had it a week ? "

" Hoot, ay, I daresay I may."

" Have you had it a month .''"

" I dinna ken : I cam"" here to speak about boats,
and no about coats."

" Did you buy the coat ? "

" I dinna mind what coat I bought, or what coat
I got."

The up-shot of it was, that their lordships were
forced to reject the evidence of the witness.

Your city and burgh magistrates, too, by the
sublime naturalness with vhich they " open their
mouth and put their foot in it," have afforded nmch

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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 ! "

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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 ! "

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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.' ,

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HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE

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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.

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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

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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 ! ' "

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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

THISTLEDOWN

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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

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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

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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

ration of
arks and
inner the
^ a Free
ime — was
igagcd at
)arn-yard,
.s a means
?ine called

Do you
)rk in the

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Village

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lias replied
hawk out

jnicnt, but
)ical Fife

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 ■:.'■'•.

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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

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THISTLEDOWN

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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

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and
•wed
(T to

yreVe

times
lay a
Thing

Vliaui-

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elp me

ddle o'
I o' the

I'M

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hanged

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His
his side
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Vv —

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" 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 •'.''.

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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

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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

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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

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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<l was exciting the
astonishment of an old woman who had evidently
come there to buy culinary utensils on a more
economical piinciple. \Vlien the sale of the article
was affected — "Lord, bless me,"" she exclaimed, "if
the parritch pan gangs at that, what will the kail
pat gang for ? ""

When, some yeai"s ago, an old woman in Perthshiie
had occasion for the fii'st time in her life to make a
journey by rail, she hied to the nearest station and
demanded a ticket.

^^ First or third?"" incjuired the clerk.

" Oh, a fii-st ane,"" said she, " for Fm in an awfu""
hurry, an' wad like to be hame again afore it's dark."

Bums prayed that the deil might "takathocht
an' mend." "Janet, 'oman," said a Perthshire cot-
tager to his wife, " d'ye ken, I wiis prayin' last nicht
that the deil micht dee."

" Dinna fash doin' onything o' the kind again,
then," replied Janet. " I'm thinking we micht get
a waur ane."

" Hoo's yer niither the day .'' " was once asked of a
country laddie.

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331

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THISTLEDOWN

1',

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" She's nae better,'" was the reply ; " but there's
wftur than that, tlie coo's turned ill this nioniin'."

" I'm thinkin', Nanny," said an aged country
cottager to his faithful sj)ouse, one day, while he
lay in bed contemplating his end, " I'm thinkin' it
caniia be lang noo. I feel tis if this very nicht the
end wad come."

" Indeed, gudeinan," said Nanny, in the most
pensi\e tones. " If it wcie the Lord's will it wad
be rale convenient, for the coo's gaun to calve, and I
dinna weel see hoo I'm to be able to attend to you
1-Miith."

Dr. Alexander T^jiser, of Aberdeen, was a honjely
and somewhat gruff but skilful physician. Among
his patients was a stuidy country wife of the working
class order, who had, upon very slight pretence, as
Fraser felt satisfied, taken into her head that she
was unwell — indeed, "was just dwynin' awa," as she
herself phrased it. " And fat could he do for her ?'^

The doctor did not feel called upon to search the
pharmacoi)aMa verj' deeply, and asked if she thought
she could eat a herring.

" Ay," she said, " I i-ather like them."

" Weel," said he, "ye canna do better than baud
tichtly at them."

On his next visit the patient was asked if she had
felt hei-self ecjual to carrying out the prescription.

" Ou ay."

" An' how many herrin' did you contrive to eat P''
Weel, sir, I managed eleven."

332

((

it there's
miin .
[ country

wliile he
^hinkin' it

iiicht the

the most
^ill it wad
live, and I
L'nd to you

s a homely
I. Among
he working
iretencc, as
d that she
wa,"" as she
i for her ? '''
search the
he thought

than haud

if she had
jription.

re to eat ? "^

HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE

" Eleven ! indeed ; that is quite as many as I
cxpectitl. How did you manage them ?"

" Weel, they were rather strong, sir," replie<l the
patient, "hut I just contjuertni them wi' bread.'"

I have heard of another countiy wife in the North
who wjvs " siiirly fashed wi"" her stamac^." " Kh,"
said she, " the time wjis when I could hae taVn a
harl o"* onything that was gaun, but noo, gin I sud
eat a bittie o' bawcon to mv diimer twice the buik
o' yer steekit neive, sorra's in me, but Fll hae the
nitt o't the hale aiftenuK>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<led his father, I^onl Painnure. Sandie Eggo,
a small landowner from (llenesk, had got seated
between two burly fiirmei-s, who were too much
taken up cracking their own jokes to heed the
n^icek, shrinking Sandie, who, starving with hunger,
could not attract the attention of any of the busy
waitei-s. Dish after dish was whipptxl away from
the table without his tasting it ; and though he luid
paid a guinea for his ticket. h2 siit unnoticed and
unattended to. At length, in desperation he seized
a sp<x)n and atbicked a dish in front of him, which
tunie<l out to be mashed turnips, on which he gorged
himself. By and by Mr. Inglis, the minister, met
Sandie in the grounds, and asked how he enjoyed
the grand dinner.

" Graund denner ! "" growled Sandie ; " y»i can ca't

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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

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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<ls the best
swine that come into Dimi fries niaiket."

He wua a countiy boy the son of the village
blacksmith — who, when he joineil the cvenin<; sin«^ing
class nt the Kchoolhouse, and the precentor asked him
if he had an ear for music, replied, " I dinna ken,
but ye can tak' a aiwnil an' hxjk."

Love haa been described in riual phraseology as
"a yeukieness o' the heart that the luuid canna
claw.'"

It was a counti-y lass who defined it as "just an
unco fykieness i' the mind." It is veiy of'tiii, ahis!
nothing more. Another declared tlmt unsalted por-
ridge — " wersh parritch " — "just tasted like a kiss
frae a body ye dinna like."" It wfuj a country wife
who said to Dr. Chalmei-s, in answer to the (piestion
if she knew what was meant by believing'^ " Ou, ay ;
it's just to lippen^ sir."

Any apt illustrations and choice examples of
the humoure of Scottish rural life might be mul-
tiplied to almost any extent. Only one or two
more here, liowever, and fii-st, one of Sir Walter
Scott's, which should convey a lesson to those
who cater for cheap compliments. A jolly dame,
says Scott, who, not "sixty years since," kept the

335

'*.!

Vi.

THISTLEDOWN

' f

pnncipfil canivanjMiry ut (m^t'iilaw, in H«»rwi('ksliire,
IiimI tlio honour t<» irceive uiidtT her r(M)t' u very
worthy cltT^yinun, witli three sons of the swiine pro-
fession, viich }ui\ ini^ rt cure of souls. He it s*ii(l, in
passing, none of thia reverentl party weie nckinied
very jKjwerfnl in the pulpit. Aflcr dinner w»w over,
the worthy senior, in tlie pride of his heuit, iisked
Mra. IJiuhun, tin; landlady, whether she ever hml
had sueh u piirly in iier Jiouse Ixfore."

"Here sit I," s<ud he, "a plaeea minister iu the
Kirk of Scotland, and here sit my three sons, each a
[)laced minister of the s<une Kirk. Confess, Lucky
Buchan, you never had such a party in your house
before."

" Indeed, sir,"^ replied I.ucky Buchan, " I canna
just wiy that I ever had such a party in my liouse
before, except ance in the forty-five, when 1 had a
Highland piper here and his three bons, a"" Highland
pipers, and the deil a spring could they play amang
them ! "

The simplicity of rural love-making, to unsuccess-
fiil as well OS successful issuis, htis found illustratiou
in many a humorous tale of Scottish life and char-
acter, but selilom with truer naivete than iu the sub-
joined narrative of Betty ""s courtship and marriage,
fix)m the pen of an unknown author. It first apj)eared
in an Kdinburgh newsj)aper many years ago, and
affbrdexl the ground plan of the late Alexander
M'l^iggan^s popular and really clever song, "Tibby
and the I^vird.'"

336

HUMOURS OF RURAL LIFE

"Come noo, Ik-tty," tui\d an unjuainbujct', "an"
pie me u sketch, an' tell mo a' nlMnit your c'()Ui-islii|)
iin' marriage, for wc «liinia kiii w hat's al'ore us, aiT I
may have a chance myscr yit.''

"Deid," Niys Betty, " there's w.w little aUmt it
ava\ Our maister won awa''at the fair a'e day, sellin'
tlie laml)s, an' it was gey late afore he eaui hame.
Our niaister veiy seldom stays latr, ony plaee, for
he's a (loiice man as cjm b*'. Wi*!, ye sec, he wiu
mair liearty than I had seen hii.i :'ir a laiif^ time,
but I opine he had a gude market fot his lambs, and
there's r(K)m for excuse when aiie drives n ^ude
birjjiain. Indeed, to tell yw Am even-d un truth,
he had rather Ik Iter that a wee drij in his e'e. It
wjus my usujd to sit up till he cum' hame, when ho
was a\va\ Wlun he aim' in that ni'ht an' gied up
stiiirs he fand his supper remly for him. An' *liclty,'
says he, * what's been gaun on the day? — A's richt,
I houp?' *0u, ay, sir!' says I. ' Veiy weel, very
weel,' says he, in his ain canny way, an' r^ae me a
clap on the shouther an' s<iid I wiis a glide la-ssie.
When I luul telt him a' that had been dune through
the day, just as I aye did, he gae me anil her clap on
the shouther, an' &iid he was a fortunate man to hae
sic a carefu' person alx)ut the house. I never had
heard him say wie muckle to my face afore, though
he had aften said mair ahent my })ack. T leally
thocht he was fey. When he had got his supper
finished, he began to be very jokey ways, an' said
that I wjisna only a gude but I wiis a bonnie hissie.

''1

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1 <■'

lit,

( li

V <

'/»

ill

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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

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

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THISTLEDOWN

P I

<«<

'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

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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

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<Ie
of Uedlam, nowadays, believes in witches'' cuntrips —
that ghosts walk the earth — or that faiiies dance
iK'neath the dim light of the moon. No; and the
stories of faerie machinations, and of warlocks and
witches, which our great-grandmothers related, in
the light of the "oilie crui/ie," to tin; wide-mouthed
horror and iH'wildermentof our youthful graudruthers
and grandmothei-s, would excite the youth of the
piesent generation only to laughter. AVhile saying
that the grosser suj)ei-stiti()ns are gone, however, it
nnist be admitted that some of the milder fornis of
superstitious belief — such as "freits"" and omens —
still find acceptance among us. "Marry in ^lay,
an"" ye'll rue't for aye," says an old "freit"; and an
examination of the Registrar's books, in town and
country, will reveal that, compaiatively, very few
have the temerity yet to defy the ill-favoured pre-
diction. It is an old " freit" that when children are
brought to church for baptism, if the females receive
sprinkling bclbre the males, the latter will grow up
efTeminate, and the former will develop Ixjards ; and
not very long ago I witnessed myself in a city church
a rather unseemly scramble by a parent to ha\ o his
boy brought to the front in preference to a neigh-
bour''s girl. It is not half a dozen years since a
friend of mine in the West of Scotland was advised
to pass her children thiough below a donkey"'s belly
to cure them of whooping-cough. The night howling

343

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THISTLEDOWN

of a (loj^ is still bolievcil by many to betoken the
early (li'inise of soiiio person in the near neighl)onr-
hood of that in which it occiu's. "Dream o*" the
(lead and yon'U get news o' the livinV' is a pri'diction
one may hear vented almost any day yet. 'J'ht;
j)ractico of "first-looting" at New Year time is
a renuiant of supei-stition ; as is also the practice,
still adhered to in country districts, of throwing a
" bauchle" at the heels of a bride as she is tpiitting
her father's and mother's house. An old rhyme ha«
couje down embracing a mnnber of omens, thus—

" West wind to the bairn when pa»in for its name.
Rain to the corpse carried to its liing hanie ;
A bonnie bhie sky to welcome the bride
As she gangs to tlie kirk wi' the sun on her side."

And better confidence is inspired in many when the
conditions of each ax&Q are favourably meted out.

But to get at the broader humoui-s of supei-stition,
we have to go back a hundred jeai'S or more, when the
broader superstitions were in vogue; when fortuiie-
tellei-s and dealei-s in incanbitions plied a roaring
trade — when the devil — not figuratively, but really
— went about like a roaring lion seeking whom he
might devour ; and when —

" guidly folks gat many a fricht

When the mune was set an' the stars ga'e nae licht.
At the roarin' liiin in the howe o' the nicht,
Wi' soughs like Aiken Drum."

One's journey through life wiis fairly beset with
supernatural agents, excitements, and influences.

544

K" token the
iu'i^lilx)(ir.
earn o"" tlie
L prediction
y«-t. The
HI- time is
e piiictice,
throwiiiir a
is (jiiittiiifT
rhymo has
thus —

ime.

side."

I when the
L'd out.
pei-stition,
', when tlu'
ti fortuiie-

a I'oarinir
but really

whom he

e licht.

leset with
nfluences.

SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION

one. „™ „ „., or iKT " (l,.st a|,p,,u.,u„.e-.,„ „„v s(a„,,"

lih- iK- ihiis ,t was ihvinul and w.ittcii: -
" Monday's bnini is fair o' fs™,
Tiics,!,-,} s Irairii is fii' o' Krac-c.
AVcdlics.l,,,-,, l.airns tl«Ml,il,l of „oc,
1 liursdiy's liaim ],,,s far to p,,

Friday's l.airii is l„vii,K mill givinir.
.Salimlay's baini „,a.,„ ,„; k f„r i„ |ivi„„.

•at 1 .e bairn II, ,' 's l,„r„ „„ ||,„ s al.l.ail, dav
Is larky, and boiinio, and wise, ,H,d gay."

'?"';' ■'''': """^ " ''""'"'y '-''i'd a..,I l..av„ „ weakly

.sc'C.,„e,I win.,, ,t fell ill eouI,l Ik. ,'esto,«l t„ Ik, HI,
™yl.yl.|"..an„„'„. When thee was a s„sp,',.io,
that a sufet,t»t,o„ of the kin,) l,a,l 1„.,„ ,;,.,„„i
-ami tl„s w,« jal„„se,l if „ eliild bc.c'a>„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

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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 si<rn of the cross made on the floor in
frr»nt of the bed, or on the hiisbaiurs nether garmenti!
laid at the foot of it, might suflice also to keep the
elves aloof.

After a birth the mother was not jurmitted to
citiss the tlueshold of the door after the hour of
sunset till she was "kirkit," lest the fairies should
carry her off to nurse their children.

Baptismal customs were more ceremonious then
than now. A young unmarried woman invariably
carried the child to clunch. In her hand she took
with her a slice of bread ami cheese, wrapped up,
a)id fastened with a pin taken from the child's dress,
and this slie presented to the first male passer she
met. This ])erson constituted the child's "first-foot"
— it had not })reviously been allov.ed to cross the
door-step ; and if he was a dark-haired n>an, 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 brea<l and cheese.

346

the floor,
)ver thtnn
ly Trinity
A'a]\ that
thty came
iii fl(!(>r 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<r to do vith hei- oi her
child — that he was an entire strangtM* — that he had
never Ix'en in Scotland Im-Ioii — that he knew iiotliin^
of the usages of the I'lesbyterian Kirk, Ixing of the
Church of Kiiifland, and that she shoukl j^ivc the
*' })i('(i' " to somebody else. Tlie youn^ woman Wiis
deaf toail his arguments, and held out authoiitati\ely
the bicad and cheese. Thiiikinpj, ])i()bablv, that the
lass had not given him credit Ibr what he had said,
he told her in ])erfect simj)Hcity that h(! vas the

Duke of • , and that he had just arrived at a

hotel in the city, which he named. Her answer shut
his mouth — "Thou<^h ye were the king on the throne,
sir, ye maun fcik' that bread an' cIkisc."

Marriage was set about with rites and usages, some
of which were })i'culiarly funny. Fi:> 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

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Vii:^

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

{

v-(

THISTLEDOWN

f i

"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 f<ll,
and oni' of the whcvls ^oing over hrr fort-hfud, 'vilU'd
her.

"In a (hisky auttnnnal cviMiin^, whi'ii Mr. Stuiii*t
(h'ove under the urilu'd j^iifcway of Alianhank, hi'
perceived Pearl in"' Jean siHiii;^ on the io[), her head
and shouldei's covered with hlood. After this, for
nianv years, the house wjw haunted — doors shut and
opened with great noiso at iiii(hiight; the rusMing
of silks and pattering of high-heeled slioes were li'. ai'd
in bech'oonis and passages. Nurse .Jenny sa.d there
were seven ministers called in together at onetime
to lay the spirit; 'hut they di<lna muckle good,
my dear.' The picture of the ghost was hung up
between those of the lover and his lady, and kept
her comparatively ipiiet ; hut when taken away .she
became worse-natured than ever."

Another was "Thrunnny ('ap,'''' a kindly ghost,
celebrated in po[)ular vei-se by John Burness, the
cousin-german of the national poet. Then there
were "Kady Greensleeves," who haunted the castle of
riuntingtower, in Perthshire ; the " (ihost o"" Manse,"
a Blairgowrie spectre, who revisited the glimpses of
the moon in the shape of a fox ; but such a fox as
had the power of speech, and to which no farmer's
dog in the pari>h would be induced to give chase —
and many besides. One of " I^dy Greensleeves'"
appearances was mercifully opportune. In a lone

351

i 1

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!■.

Vii

.^\

w.'

i <

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J! "

THISTLEDOWN

lioiise on the (.'state of lIuiitiji<rto\v«.T tluTc livt-d
an t)l(l nuui, tlu' sole oci-iipuiit ol' tlie l)uil(lin<.^, and
yv\n\\vi\ to have hidden richt's in some secret ])l.aci'
in his d\ve]liii<j. Oiu; niMit u nninl)er of masked
villains bi'oke in upon him and di-manded, on pain
of death, that lie should show lliein where his money
was coiu'i'aled. In vain did he protest that lie had
no money in the lioiisi', save a few sliillin<fs, to which
he made tlu-m welcome. Jjiving hands on him,
drai^ixint; him to the floor, and hrandishinic their
(h'awn kni\es over his hoaiy lu'ad, they swore that
he must die ior tlu' lie which he had told them. As
the oath was on their lips their inti'tided victim
uttered a wild shrii-k, and stretched out his hands
implo: iui^ly towards a small two-paned window in
the wall of the house. To that window the ruflians
turned their eves keenly, when lo! through the under
pane a temale face, pale iis death, but with eyes
sparkling like diamonds, stai'ed in on them. "Oh,
I-M-idy (ireenslei'ves," cried the old man, " winna ye
come aiT help nier " The name was {us terror-striking
its w:us the weird face at the window, and throwing
down their knives, the robbers rushed from the house,
and fli'd through the darkness, as if all the rogue-
catchers of the shire had been at their heels.

1^'lief in the supi-rnatural, it is woith noting, has
not been confined I'xclusively to the ignorant classi-s.
I^)rd liryon was sensitively su{)erstiti()us. Sir David
Brewster admitted it to have a cei-tain power over
him. James Thomson, the author of the " Seasons,"

852

I *

•w,

♦h'

\cvc livi'd
Idin^, juul
•I ret ])liic('
)f luaskrd
1, on pain
his inoMcy
lilt he had
s, to which
s oil hill),
hin*; ihcii-
swore that
thc'in. As
led victim
. his hands
window in
the 1 iillians
li the luider
with eyes
vux. "Oh,
" winna ye
•or-striking
I throwinj;-
the house,
the rogue-
•Is.

noting, has
[ant classes.
Sir David
Dower over
Seasons,"

SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION

liad a, great, honor of tlie siiptrnatural ; ami liis fear
of ghosls and goblins allbidi'd much amusenu iit to
his fellow-collegians at Kdinhurgh. His bedfellow,
knowing that he was afraid to remain alone in the
dark, quietly .slipped away from him one inght wh'.-n
lie was asleep. On waking, he nished out of the
rot)ni like a frightened child, and called loudly on
his landlady for assist^uice. Dr. Soinerville, who
relates this anecdote upon llu,' authority of Mr.
Cranston, late minister of Ancinnn, who lodged in
the same I'oom with the poet at I'ldinbui'gh, attributes
his weakness on this subject to the following circum-
stiuice : —

"The belief in giiosts, witches, faiiies, etc., was so
exceedingly prevalent at the beginning of this
century that it would have been deemed heretical in
an/ clcigyman to have called in question their
existence, or even their palpable int.eq)osition. One
of the last appearances of these tremendous agents
happened (1 am Kpeaking in the language of the
vulgar) at W<K)lie, in the parish of Southdean, \s here
Mr. Thomson was minister. Ever since I entered
into life, it was necessary to speak guardedly ii[)on
the subject of the Woolie (Jhost, as I myself hr.ve
more than once gi\en otfc-nce by my silence on the
subject. The se(juel of the stoiy I heai'd, not at
second-hand, but from the lips of a pei-son, and that
of rank and education, above; the vulgai'. Mr.
Thomson, the father of tlie ])o<t, in a fatal hour, wjis
prevailed upon to attempt laying the evil spirit.

353

M ',

THISTLEDOWN

■.I '■■

f-.-

f^ I

,;:'

He appointed his diet of catechising at Woolie, the
scene of tlie gliost's exploits, and behold, when he
had just begun to pray, a ball of fire strikes him on
the head. Overwhelmed with consternation, he
could not utter another woid, or make a second
attempt to pray. He was carried lion.e to his house,
where he languished under the oppi-ession of diabolic
malignity, and at length cxj)iied. Only think what
an impression this story — I do not say fact, I say
this stoiT, for of it there can be no doubt — must
i.jcessarily have made up(m the vigorous imagination
of the young poet.""

The ghost stories of Scotland would fill a large
volume. Pennant tells of a poor visionary in
Breadalbane who had been workiiiij: in his aibbai^e
garden, and imagined tliat he was suddenly raised
into the air and conveyed over the fence into a corn
field, where he found himself surrounded by a crowd
of men and women, many of whom he knew to be
dead. On his uttering the name of God they all
vanished, except a female sprite, who obliged him to
promise an assignation at the very same hour of the
same day next week. Being left, he found his hair
tied in double knots, and that he had almost lost the
use of speech. However, he kej)t his appointment
with the spectre, whom he soon saw coming floating
through the air towards him ; but she pi-etended to
be in a huriy, bade him go on his way, and no harm
should befall him. Si:ch was the d!vamer''s account
of the matter. But it is incredible, adds the narrator,

354

{■

r'}

SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION

what mischief this story did in the neighbourhood.
The friends and relatives of the dece.'ised, whom the
old dotard had named, were in the utmost (Hstress
in (iiuhng them in such bad company in the other
world ; and the ahnost extinct belief in ghosts and
ap{)aritions seemed for a time to be revived.

Next to ghosts, witches ranked as objects of preter-
natural dread ; and " for ways that were dark, and
tricks that w('ie vain," the witches, no doubt, were
peculiar. And yet, surely most of the poor wretches
who suffered and died at the stake because of the
suspicion that they practised the foinis of diablerie
popularly attributed to warlocks and witches, were
more sinned against than sinning.

The burning of witches — based, no doubt, on the
connnand given in the twenty -second chapter of
Exodus, namely — "Thou shall not suffer a witch
to live " — Ibrms a black chapter in the history of
Scotland, and one in which we look in vain for the
discovery of much humour. In the powei-s popularly
assigned to these "withered beldams, auld and di-oll,"
there was, ho\\e\ei', a world of humour. They were
accused of having intercourse with Satan, and making
bargains with the Evil One to serve him — of attending
meetintcs of witches — of I'aisini; storms at sea — of
taking away milk — of blasting the corn — of spoiling
the success of the fishing — of curing diseases, and
of inflicting diseases, and of receiving money in
payment for the one and the other. Among the
warlocks and witches who danced to satanic strains

355

f'/

V I

(

THISTLEDOWN

in " Alloway's auld hauiiU'd kirk,"' the poet was
careful to note — •

** There was ae winsome wench and walie.

That night enlisted in the core,
Lang after kenn'd on Carrick shore :
For nioiiy a beast to dead she shot,
And j)erish'd niony a l)onnie boat.
And shook baith nieikle corn and bear.
And kept the country-side in fear."

((

It is astoiiisliing,"''' says one, " that the Reformed
cler<ry could have believed that his sable majesty,
to whom they ascribed so much cunning, should
have employed only ignoi-ant, old, and decrepit
women as his instruments in carrying out his war
against mankind." It is ecjually matter for astonish-
ment, surely, that many of these ignorant, old, and
decrc'pit women themselves believed that they y)os-
sessed the powers of diablerie popularly attributed
to them. Isobel Gowdie, who was bui-ned jis a
witcli in 1662, gives the following as the charm
which had to be repeated when she resolved to
change into a hare —

** I sail po intill a hare,

With sorrow, sigh, and mucklecare;
And I sail go in the devil's name.
Ay while I come back again."

This from her Confessions, as reported in the
Appendix to Pitcairn's Cr'wiinnl Trials, is of
interest : — " He (the devil) would send me now and
then to Auldern on some ei-rands to my neighboui"s,
in the shape of a hare, and Patrick Papley's servants,

t356

SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION

in Kilhill being going to their ]Hlx>unng, his ho,„,ds
being u.th then,, ran after n.e, being in the sliape of
a hare. I ran very long, bnt was foreed, Ix'in-r
wc^ary, at hxst to take to n.y own house. The door
ben>g left open I ran in behind a chest, and the
^-'Hls followed in; but they went to the other
■sHle of the chest, and I w.^ forced to run forth
H^;an,, and ran into another house, ar.d there took
Jeisuro to say —

' Hare, hare, God send thee care?
I am in a hare's likeness now.
But I sail be a woman e'en now;
Hare, hare, God send thee care,'

and so I returned to my own .shape, as I ani at this
instant aganj. The dogs will son,eti„.es get so.ne
bites of us when we are in hares, but will „ot get us
killed. When we tin-n out of a hare's likenL to
our own shape wo will have the bitc-s and rives and
scratches on our bochV-s. When we would be in the
shape of cats ve did nothing but c,y and wraw, and
ruing, and, as it were, worrying one another; and
when w^e come to our shapes again we will find the
scratches and rives on our skin veiy sore. When
one of as, or more, are in the shape of cats, and
meet with any others, our neighboui-s, we wiU Jay-

* Devil speed thee.
Go thou with me ! '

and imme<liatdy they will turn into the shape of a
cat and go w,th u». When wo will fc ;„ thl »l,ape

357

,*!

if '

i f

r' t

It'

■it

'i\

1? '>.

THISTLEDOWN

of crows we will Ixj laij^er than ordinaiy crows, and
will .sit upon branches of trees."'

The spells, incantations, and cantrips, employed
by witches when working out their diableiies were
quaint and curious enough. Students of Shakes-
peare are familiar with the

" Toil and trouble, toil and trouble.
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble,"

of the witches in the play of Macbeth, a.s well as the
request of the first witch, to

" Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten
Her nine farrow ; grease that's sweaten
From the murderer's gibbet throw
Into the flarae,"

making an uncouth mixture. But think of the
following — one of two snatch(>s of cantrip rhymes
quoted by M'Taggart in the Scottish Gallovidian
Encyclopedia —

" In the pingle or the pan.
Or the haurnpan o' man.
Boil the heart's blude o' the tade,
Wi' the tallow o' the gled ;
Hawcket kail, and hen dirt,
Chow'd cheese, and chicken-wort ;
Yellow paddocks champit sma'.
Spiders ten, and gelloch's twa;
Sclaters twall, frae foggy dyke,
Burabecs twenty, frae their byke ;
Asks frae stinkin' lochens blue,
Aye will mak' a better stew ;
Bachelors maun hae a charm.
Hearts hae they a' fu' o' harm,

358

nows, and

employed

cries were
f Shakes-

t'cll as the

k of the
p rhymes
%llovtdian

SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION

Aye the aiildfi-, aye the c-aulder.
Aye the caulder, aye the baulder.

Taps '.naw white, and tails green,
i5iiHppin' maiden's o' fifteen,
Min{,'lc, mingle, in the pingle,

Join the cantrip wi' the jingle;
Now we see, and now we see,'
Plots o'poachin' ane, twa, three."

% tugginc, Ht a hair-..ope, in the usual manner of

r Zr T y ^"""^^ ""'^^^^ "P «f tufts of

n each cou-and chanting the following, or a
•similar charm— *"

" C^^'s milk, and mare's milk.

And every beast that bears milk.
Between St. Johnstone's and Dundee,
Corae a to me, come a' to me,"

it was vulgarly IkHovccI, as lato ., tl.e beginning of
the cvnhnj- ,,.t a witch could d,.«w atay .4^
^2 « nnlk f,,„n the cattle in her ncighbou.-hoZ
Only a horse-shoe nailed to the bvre .lo,:, and spnVs
of rowa„-t,« tied with red thrcd to the coWs ted
was a certain protection here ; for '

" Rowan-li-ee and red thread
Gar the witches lyne their speed."

ZZ rl! '"'"!"*'■"" "■■" "^"Ic'ctci, to discover
the w.tch, the guden,an's breeks might be put unon
he horns of the cow_a l,.g „,,on c^ch horLZ
for certan,, cr„,n„,ie being let loose, would run'
straight to the door of tl>e guilty party.

359

i'H

, V

r-'

■1 U}

I;,

1, IV

{

If.

i t

THISTLEDOWN

When the late RcvltcikI Dr. Andrew A. Bonar as
a young man laboured in the position of assistant
minister in Collace parish, It ss than half a century
ago, I have been told, he found the practice of
wearing horse-shoes on byre doors so prevalent there
that he tried to reason the pecjple out of the
absurdity. lie so far succeeded, but no furthei-
than this, that they took them off the ontsides of
the door and fastened them u[)on the insides — where,
I believe, some are to be seen even to this day and
hour.

"Scoring abune the hnvith" (executing with a
rusty nail, to the effusion of blocnl, the sign of the
Cross, on the upper p.irts of the face of a suspected
witch) was another moans of protection. Whoso
performed this ceremony was henceforth secure
against pereonal attack from the particular witch, or
witches, he may have "scored." An old joiner, or
" wricht," in a Perthshire village, with whom I was
well ac(|uainted in my boyhood, had a belief in
witches which no human argument could dissolve.
He suspected a neighlxjur's wife of witchcraft, and
lived in terror of lier until, one day, finding a
favourable opjiortunity of performing the operation,
he " scored " her " abune the b;eath " with a rusty
nail, which he carried with him concealed for the
purpose ; and, this done, he started back, and
shaking his clenched fist in her face, bragged her to
" do her warst noo."

In Hogg's tale of "The Witch of Fife,^ is to be

360

Bonar as
assistant

century
ictice of
mt thcic
of the
further
itsides of
— where,

day and

T with a
ra of the
suspected
Whoso
h secure
witch, or
joiner, or
)ni I was
belief in

dissolve.

■aft, and
nnding a

aeration,
a rusty
for the

ick, and

d her to

is to be

SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION

found the pleasantest stories of witches'' " on<;auns "^
to he met with anywhere. Hof;<^ had no peer in the
delineation of the mysterious and uncanny, and the
students of fairy mythology will ever estetin his
picture of " Kihneny," as one of the most beautiful
and perfect of its kind.

" Bonnie Kilmenj- gaed up the glen,
But it wasna to meet Duneira's men."

Like many another, before and since, she wjis

tivken possession of by the fairies, and led to a land

where

" The emerald fields were of dazzling glow,
And the flowers of everlasting blow."

Fairies were popularly believed to inhabit certain
round grassy eminences, where they celebrated their
nocturnal festivities by the light of the moon. It
was believed that if, on Hallowe'en, any pei-son
should go roinid one of these hillocks nine times,
contrary to the course of the sun, a door would open,
by which he would be admitted into the realms of
fairyland. Many, it has been said, of mortal race
have been entertained in their seci'et recesses,
there to b.ave been received into the most s{)lendid
apartments, and regaled with the most sumptuous
baiKjuets and delicious wines. Their females sur-
passed the dauglitei-s of men in beauty, and fairy
life was one eternal round of festivity and dancing.
Unhaj)py was the mortal, however, who dared to
join in the joys, or ventured to partake of their
dainties, as, by this indulgence, he forfeited for ever

361

»\

i )

»,v

\l.

'.(.

V (

I ■

' •

THISTLEDOWN

the society of men, and w jis bound down irrevocably
to the conditions of a Shi ich^ or " man of peace."*

There is a Highland tiadition to the effect that a
woman, in days of yori', wtis conveyed into the
secret recesses of the Daoine Shi, or men of peace.
There she was recognised by one who had fornuily
been an ordinary mortal, but who had, by some
fatality, became associated with the fairies. This
ac(juaintance, still retaining some portion of human
benevolence, warned her of her danger, and counselled
her, as she valued her liberty, to abstain from eating
and drinking with them for a certain space of time.
She complied with the counsel of her friend ; and
when the period assigned wjis elapsed, she found
herself again upon earth, restored to the society of
mortals. It is added, that when she examined the
viands which had been presented to her, and which
had appeared so tempting to the eye, they were
found, now that the enchantment was removed, to
consist only of the refuse of the eai'th.

" It is the common opinion,'' says Sir Walter
Scott, " that persons falling under the power of the
fairies, were only allowed to revisit the haunts of
men after seven years had expired. At the end of
seven yeju-s more, they again disappeared, after
which they were seldom seen among mortals. The
accounts they gave of their situation differ in some
particulars. Sometimes they were represented as
leading a life of constant restlessness, and wandering
by moonlight. According to others, they inhabited

362

'.I'l

irrt'vocubly

ft'c'ct, that a
'1 into the
n of peace.
1(1 foniierly
1, by some
I'ies. This
. of huniHii
1 counselled
Tom eating
ce of time,
riend ; and
she found
i society of
unined the
and which
they \vere
enioved, to

sir Walter
iwcr of the
haunts of
the end of
u-ed, after
tals. Tlie
Per in some
L'sented as
wandering
■ inhabited

SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION

H pleasant '--^ion, where, lH,wever, their situ .f
^vas renderc.l horrible by t],,. s.e ir r "

"""•-' iM<h•^i<hmls to thede '"'""^'^'^ '"^ -'•

Tl;i. cireun.stanee is :!:.;!: /Hnr^^
""^•^•tn.ent,and in the 'T-iie of tlv ./'"■'"'"

^^•h^'''C. it is tenned 'Tlj ^'"' ^ '"'"^^ 'inndanc./

or, accordin." Ur/^

» '^ inooe or wniiniur <>i- ,., .
Persons abstracted by the fiuVi f" vr ^^"":^'''%'
biif tlw. ,.1 . ^'""<^'S tradition ( fleiN •

!-•«" Hallowe'en," thirs-!. "^"""^^' ^"'^'^ ^'^"

'' Upon that night, when fairies light.
On Cassilis Downan's dance.

Or ower the lays, in splendid blaze.
On sprightly coursers pranc-e "

It was at Miles Cross, on JlalloweVn th.t i'-ur
Janet succeeded in the rescue of her hnj, ^r
^oungTamlane":— ^i^r io\ei, ' Ihe

'• She pu-d him frae the milk-white steed.
And loot the bridle fa' •

And up there raise an eldritch c-ry.
•He s won among us a' ! '

^ 36S

.•'(l

. \

V • i

■"*">*—

'If

']''
1 1

) \

p, I

'A.

THISTLEDOWN

*• They sliaped him in fiir .loiu-t's firms
All ask, l)iit iiiul nil ucMcr :
Slu- Ill-Id him fast in rvfry shape-
To be her hiiirn's father.

" They shnpf'd him in hrr arms af hist
A mother-naked man ;
She wrajiped liim in lier f^reeii miintli;.
And sae her true love wan."

IIfill()\VL'\'ri us it is |)()j)ii1;irly obsei'vcd in Scotland
iiowudays, i.s u " niciTV mcotiiig,"''' nnd nothini;
more; hut in tlie times from which limns drew his
inimitfil)lL' picture of it, it was a festival [)i"egnant
with superstitious siirnilicance and pi'oplu'tic awe,
and some of the olden time customs ai'o worth
recountini^: — Tlie first ceremony of TlulloweVn was,
pulling each a stoci< or plant of kail. The parties
went out hand in hand with eyes shut, and pulled
the first they met with. Its being big oi' little,
straight or crooked, was prophetic of the si/e and
shape of the grand object of all their spells — the
husband or wife. If any vird or eardi stuck to the
root, that meant tocher or fortune, and the taste of
the custock — that is the heart of the stem — indicated
the tem{;"r or disposition. The "runts'' were
placed ove! the dooi'way ; and tb.e christian naim-s
of the jK'jple whom chance brought into the house,
were, accoi'ding to priority of placing the "runts,'"'
the names in cpiestion. When bui'iiing the nuts,
they named the lad and lass to each pai-ticular nut,
as they laid them in the fire, and, according as they

3G4

wSCOTTISH SUPERSTITION

()iiriu'(l (jiiicily toi^rtlier, oi* .shirtt'd Com Ix'sido
oMo uMof'iir, tho couiNi! iiiul issiio of tlu; oourtsliip
would liu. AnioMt^ viirioiiH otliiT cli.inns to hv
pructiscd wiMV Ihosf : — -To take a cuiiillc ami j^o
aloiu? to the lo()kiii«^-;;;lass, and ent an apple lu't'ori!
it — conihiii"^ your hair all the Huic — when tho faco
of your (U)njuu;al con)[)auiou would he seen in Hie
glass as if pi-criu'r over yo'ir shoulder. To steal out,
unobserved, and sow a handful of hemp seed, harrow-
ing it, with anything you could conveniently draw
aftei' you — a grape or a rake or the like — I'epeating
now and again —

*' Hemp stred I anw thee, hemp seed I saw thee,

VVli.iuver's to be my true-love, come after me and maw thoe,"

and, on looking over your shoulder, you would sec
llie appearance of the peison invoked, in the attitude
of reaping hemp. To take the opportunity of going
uimoticed to n, bean-stack, and in fathoming it
three times round \\ilh both ai'ins, in the hist
fathom of the last I'ound you would emliraco tiie
appeai-ance of your future voke-fellow. To go to a
soutli-rumiing spring or rivulet, where "three lairds'
lands meet," and dip your left shirt-sleeve. Go to
bed in sight of a fire, before which you had ])revi-
ously hung the wet sleeve to dry. Lie awake, and
about midnigl'.t an apparition having the exact
figure of the gi-and oi)ject in (piestion, would come
and tui'n the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.
Take three dishes : put clean water into one, foul

305

(

■^■iji"

THISTLEDOWN

water into f mother ; leave the third empty. Bhud-
f'okl a person (say a male) and lead him to the
hearth where the dishes are ranged. If he dips the
left hand by chance into clean water, his future
wife will come to the bar of matrimony a maid; if
into the empty dish, he will have no marriage at all;
if into the foul, he will marry a widow. This charm
had to be repeated three times, and every time the
arrangement of the dishes had to be altei'ed.

There are other decayed and rapidly decaying
forms of popular superstition — such as those relating
to animals and places, the characteristics of the
Brownies, and the various, vast, and extravagant
ideas which have been entertained concer?iing the
pei'sonality and behaviour of that much abused
party known as " Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or
Clootie'" — but these must suffice here.

r>o6

HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NA^ruRALS

CHAPTER XIV

IirTMOri! OK .SCOTC'JI X.'.TLUALS

IT UMOril, I liuve alroady assortcxl, is part and
A J. parcel of a Scotsnuufs hvUu^, and i. conunon
to all classcvs of the Scottish people ; and tli,: remark
receives point from the fact tJiat even the dart folk
m our land are touched with a ,ou^di-and-readv
«ense of it. Idiocy, unh.ippily, has obtained in all
coimtnes, and an.on^r all peoples, and "Nafurals"
an(. persons of sadly inferior intellect, have not been
unconnnon in Scotland. Like many another familiar
figure m recent Scottish life, the villa^^e or parish
Idiot, however, is no longer apparc-nt in the native-
highways and byways. He has bec-n legislated on,
and fron. his listless and perilous wanderings hither
a:H thither in the earth, has mercifully been placed
within the confines of some private or charitable,
institution. When he roamed " at lairge " he was a
stTikm-r iK.Mvuhial, and claimed no little attention.
xhe .,il(. .;. janghed and mn at his heels, attmcted
ti)e-.-V., by the eccentricities of h,is speech and
b..lir.wc-ir. Adult men and women, sound of head
and ':eart, indulged his idiotic U .:..., and treated
him vuully for pify\s sake; while th. thoughtless
and cruel-minded among the robust order of the

1 .

♦ij

: , i»

1. i ^

THISTLEDOWN

cominunity too often teased liis silly soul into a
fVen/y, and made him the butt of their cruel and
wanton jokes. That he mi<^ht be secure from the
torment of the latter class is partly the reason why
he has been depri\ed of his liberty. Evciy ])arish
has its daft Jamie, daft AV'illie, or daft D; vie, as 1he
case might be; and being all touched, less or more,
with a s(>nse of humom", as we have said, and daring
to give audible speech to unpleasant truths, which
sane persons dared not more than thini<, many good
stories are told of them. Not iinfrecpK'W^^ly they
exhibited a dei^ree of cunning and r* '^i ttss of wit
(juite unlooked foi' in membei's of thcu class. Thus,
whilst lounging listlessly along the roadside (^ne day
a Noiib country natural was accosted by a late
Professor in one of our Universities.

"Pray, sir,"' incpiired the learned servant, "how
long may a man live without brains ?"

" I dimia ken,"" responded the natural, sci-atching
his head, and eyeing the Professor critically from
top to toe ; " how auld ai'e you yerser ? '''

llemonstrated with for his do-noihiug kind of life,
one w;us told he miglit at letxst herd cow s.

"Me herd kye ! " said he ; " I wonder to hear v ,
I'm far ower daft. Man, I diima ken grass iVuc
corn."

Previous to the amelioration in the Pot)r Law,
men of the imbecile chuss were found constantly fvs
" hangei's-on " about hotels and coach of'nces, as well
as churchvards on occjusions of funerals. About

•' M I

HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

seventy years ago there lived one of this class in
])nnbar, who i-egnlarly fre(|uented the kitchen of the
" Wliite Swan," where he received all his nieals.
His appetite was of no connnon order, and when
remonstrated with for eating all food that came in
his way, he was wont to exclaim, " Ik-tter belly burst
than gnde meat spoil ; " and the saying has become
a j)ioverb.

J)aft Willie Law was the descendant of an ancient
family nearly related to the famous John Law of
Laurieston, the celebrated financier of IVance.
Willie, on that account, was often spoken to and
taken notice of by gentlemen of distinction. Post-
ing one day through Kirkcaldy with more than
ordinary speed, he was met by Mr. Oswald of
Dnnnikier, who asked him where he was bound for
in such a hurry.

"Gaun!" says Willie, with apparent sm-prise at
the (piestion. " I'm gaun to my cousin, Lord Lhrin's
burial.''

" Your cousin, Lord Elgin^s burial, you fool ! Lord
Elgin's not dead,'' responded Mr. Oswald.

"xVh! deil ma care," (pioUi Willie, "there's sax
doctors out o' Kmbro' at him, an' tluy"ll hae him
dead afore I win forrit," and off he posted at an
increased rate.

These poor creatures, as Dean Ramsay observes,
had invariably a gi'eat delight in attending funerals.
In most country places hardly a funeral ever took
place without the attendance of the parochial idiot.

369

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And habit has such a powerful influence that it
secujed ahnost a necessary iissociation. Funeral
scenes of this description liad been familiar to the
experience of Sir Walter Scott, who thus portrays a
funeral incident in Giuj M(tnucr'mg: —

** The funeral poinp set foith," says he, " saulies
with their batons and ganiphions of tarnished white
crape. Six starved horses, themselves the very
emblems of mortality, well cloaked and plumed,
hif;ging alor.:,' the hearse, with its dismal emblazonry,
C!"ept in slow pace towards the place of interment,
')receded by Jamie Duff, an idiot, who, with weepers
and gravat made of white paper, attended on every
funeral, and followed by six mourning coaches filled
with the company."

It was the free and ample feast of fat things, of
course, that generally proved the attraction ; and it
serves as a commentary on the social li fe of Scotland,
hi the days of our grandfathers, to find a "natural"
declaring that a certain funeral, which he had
attended, " was a puir affair ; there wasna a drunk
man at it."

Asked why he never went to church, a Fife
"natural" — at least a Fifer more F't/i.sh than his
fellows — struck a dramatic attitude and exclaimed —
" I love the huk that rises from the green sod with
the dew s[)ai'kling from his breast, and soars far up
in the blue heavens — thafs my religion." Many
perfectly sane persons have not so nmch. And your
" natural " could admonish a stinging reproof when

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HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

the occlusion seeined to denicUid it. About the year
1S2(), at the time of the trial of Queen C'an)hne,
Dr. WightiiKui was the popular and esteemed
minister of Kiikniahoe, in the County of Dumfries,
and he, like all the old Established clergymen, had
been oi'deivd to omit the Queen's name from his
public pi'ayers. In those days the Doctoi- was often
seen m the streets of the County town on maikct
davs, and on one of those occasions he hapj)ened to
meet with daft Jock Gordon, and as usual sto|)jX'd
to have a little chat with him.

" Got)d morning, Jock, and how are you to-day ? "
Siiid the kindly divine.

"Oh, gaily weel, gaily weel. Doctoi'," replied
Jock ; "but, man, they ti-U me ye dinna pray for the
Queen noo."

"Quite true, Jock, for Fm afraid she is not a
good woman," re[)lied Di'. Wightnian.

" God bless me. Doctor, ye ken Fm a puir daft
creatuic, and maybe kens nae better," said Jock,
" but I aye thocht, the waur a body was they aye
wanted the piayin' for the mair."

Dr. AN'ightman felt he had Ix'cn justly rebuked,
and quietly slipped away.

It has become a pn.nerb that " everyb(Kly has his
bubblv-jock," and the well-known aphorism rose
from the i-emark of a Scottish half-wit. The
circumstiinces which pi'oduced it occurr-etl in the
experience of Sir Walter Scott, and deserve-s to be
told.

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A gentk'inan convi'iNing with the ilhistrious
author, reniaikcd Lhat lie believed it possible that
peri'ect liappiiiess might be enj(i}'ed, even in this
world.

Sir Walter dissented.

" Well," said the gentleman, " there is an idiot
whom I am certain will conHrm my opinion, he
seenjH the very beau-ideal of animal contentment."

The daft individual was moving along humming
to himself, when Sir Walter addressed him.

" Weel, Jamie, hoo are ye the tlay ? "

" lirawly, ou brawly," answered he.

" Have you ])lenty to eat and drink, Jamie?"

" Ou ay!"

" There," said the poefs antagonist, crowing, " is
a perfectly happy creature."

•' Not so fast," continued Sir Walter. Then to
Jamie —

" Is there nathing that bothers ye ava, Jamie ? "

" Ou ay," said the idiot, changing his merry look,
" Fm sair hadden doon by tlie nmckle bubblyjock ;
he follows me whaurever I gang."

" Now," said Sir Walter, "you see fi'om this that
the simplest and most stupid of mankind are
haunted by evil of some kind or another — in short,
sir, everybody has his bubblyjock."

Dour and self-willed, your Natural is frequently
moved by the strongest prejudices either for or
against persons and things. I knew of one in
Perthshire who could never be induced to go into a

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HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

boat, and this although ho was born aiul hved all
his lite-time within a few hundred yaids of the
river Tay. " Gang into a boat ! Na, na," he would
say, "just a wee thin dealie atween ye and eternitie ! "
Of this same individual a good story is told, which
happened in this \\ay. Jock was a frecjuent visitor
at the " big hoose," and being neither lame nor
lazy, wjis always ready to perform a needed turn for
a small gratuity. Some years ago, on the occasion
of a shooting battue over the estate, when each
spoi'tsman w;is appointed a separate bag-carrier,
Jock got apportioned to one who occasioned more
deaths among the birds than the majoi-ity of the
sj)ortsmen, and consequently he soon made a bag
which was not easily lugged oVr field and fence.
Still, on the party hurried, each shoi't interval adding
to Jock''s burden. The sweat oo/ed from every pore
of his sonsy face, and trickled from his chubby chin ;
still he complained not. However, 'tis the hust
straw that breaks the camePs back, and a crisis Wfus
innninent. One of the "beaters," a boy, who had
been several times found fault with by the sports-
men, was sternly rebuked, and Wiis told by Jock"'s
man that if he did not steer clear of the guns he
would blow his brains out. Jock saw in the threat
an impending big addition to his alreiuly too heavy
load, and throwing the bag at the sportsman's feet,
he wiped his steaming temples, and exclaimed in his
own peculiar stuttering manner —

" Ye can sh-sh-shoot him gin ye like, but Til be

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THISTLEDOWN

h-h-hanged if Fm to c-c-cany him," and in the
highest dudgeon ho quitted tlie field.

Another, who Wius employed about a farm town,
showed, at least on one occasion, a " smii' glimmerin''
o"" couunon sense." Some one had given him a penny,
and this he went and hid in a crevice in tlie barn
wall. The farmer, observing what had been done,
watched the oj)port unity, and, extracting the penny,
placed in the crevice a two-shilling piece.

"Strange," said Jock, wlien he went to look at
his treasure ; " turned white in the face — maun hae
catched the cauld," so rolled the florin in a rag and
put it back.

Next day the farmer changed the coin to a shilling.

'• Getting to be a case o"" consumption, I doot,"
said Jock on his next visit.

Next day the rag contained a sixpenny piece.

" Gallopin'' consumption!" exclaimed the natural,
and replaced the coin with a dowie shake of liis head.

The farmer next day substituted a half-sovereign.

" Noo ye've ta'en the jaundice," exclaimed Jock
on a subso([uent visit. " WU need to be keepit
warm," and so saying, he placed the coin in his
breek-[)ooch and kept it there.

A minister of the North of Scotland, who was not
too ready at paying his debts, but very fond of a
joke, meeting a fool he was in the habit of teasing,
tusked him how the })otatoes were selling in the nioon
j ust now. " Oh, very cheap, and plenty of them,"
siiid the fool.

\l,^

HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

" But don't you think," said the minister, " that
there might be a diftieulty in getting them down ? ""

" Nae fear o' tliat," answered the fool. " Send up
the money, and they'll soon send them down."

A Perthshire tradesman, recently deceai^ed, who
wjis not naturally weak-minded, but whose intellect
had been partially ruined by dissipation, was con-
fined for several months, a number of years ago, to
Muithly Asylum. On his liberation, he received,
in accordance with the custom of such institutions,
the written assurance of two doctors that he Wiis a
person perfectly sane, and safe to be at large. Some
time subsequently, when he was engaged on a "job'"
along with a number of his fellow craftsmen at a
country farm, a wordy war arose which waxed so hot
and furious that one of the combatants turned
savagely on our hero and told him he was " daft."

" Daft ! " echoed he, plunging his hands into the
oxter pocket of his jacket. " Daft ! blast ye !
Look here, I can show twa certificates that Vm wise,
and there's not anither man on the job that can
produce ane ! "

He w as right.

About the middle of the last centuiy there lived
in the neighbourhood of Denholm a natural named
Daft Jamie, who was occasionally employed by the
Laird of Cavers and his brother. Captain Douglas,
who resided at IVIidshields, to transport them on his
back across the water which flowed between their
places of abode. One day Captain Douglas resolved

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THISTLEDOWN

to have a little fun at the expense <.i' hi.s brother,
and biilx-'d Jainie to chop the I^iird iu the middle of
the river.

Accordingly, having taken Cavers on his back, and
proceeded to the middle of the stream, "Oh! Laird,"
exclaimed Jamie, standing stock-still, " my knit's
yeukie ! "^

" Well, well ; never mind that,'' exclaimed Cavers.

"Ay, but I maim mind it;" and, notwithstanding
oi'dei's, entreaties, and threats, Jamie plumped the
Laird down into the water and began scratching
his ankle to the infinite anuisement of the Captain,
who stood on the bank laughing like to split his
sides. Jamie soon retuiiied for the Ca[)tain, who,
thinking of no other trick than his own, was speedily
mounted and carried to the middle of the stream.
At exactly the same spot where he had dropped the
Laird, Jamie again stood still.

" Noo, Captain,"" said he, "gin ye dinna gie me
twa shillings mair. Til lat you doon too."

It is almost needless to say the Captain had to
" purchase his discharge " from the threatened
immersion, besides suffering the retributive ridicule
of his brother.

Jock Scott, a half-witted lad, who had been
employed by the minister to cart some firewood,
finding be had got the worst of the baigain, the
reverend gentleman remarked severely, " Jock, when
I came here they told me you were a fool." " Ay,
sir," replied Jock ; " and they told me ye wis a

376

HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

jTi-aiid preacher; but," he added in a lower ^op.e,
"it's never s^if'e to believe .i"' that ye hear ! "

In Perthslnre, not long- aj^o, a gani;f of workmen
werodigging a trial pit previous to sonie excavations
being done. While they were at work throwing up
the earth a halt-wit named Jock Howe, iH'longing to
the district, appeared on the scene, and addiessin;^
the foreman, said, " \Vhat are ye liowking dooii
there for ?" The foreman, taking in at a glance the
character of his questioner, answered, "O, we're
diggin" doon to Australia. Would you like to
come?" Jock, after thinking for a minute, answered,
"Ay man! Howkin' doon to Australia, are ye?
LkmI ! ye maun be far dafter than me yet. Can ye
no"* sail to Australia an' hoxck up, an' ye wad h*
saved a' the l)other o' lift in' the earth oot, for a' yer
stuff wad then fa' aw a frae ye ? "

Of our native half-wits, four at least have enjoyed
a national reputation. These are Jamie Fleeman,
the Laird of Udny's fool, who will have a chapter
here all to himself; Daft Rab Hamilton, Daft Jock
Amos, and Daft Will Speir. Of the latter thi-ee—
as well as of Fleeman — there are many good and
interesting stories extant.

Rab Hamilton, like others of his class, was ar.
example to some sane folks from the fact tli-it he
was a frecjuent, if not regular, attender of *' ^ church.
In Ayr he was well known as a stauncli .Seceder.
One day, however, he went to hear a seimon in a
church belonging to the Establishment, and produced

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a sensation ^^hic•}l wns not soon forgotten hy tho:.i'
who witnessed it. He took his seat on an insidt
stair, which liad what is known »is a "wooden rail."
and having put his liead tlirongii liling, in

attempting to pull it hack lie iotind jmnselt' eaugiit
by the eai's. He shouted at the utmost pitch of his
stentorian voice —

"Murder! — my head'U bo cuttit afF! Holy
minister! congregation ! — oh, my liead maun Ix'
cuttit aft*! It's a judgment lor leaving my aiii
godlie Mr. Peebles at the Newton, an' comin"' to
hear a paper minister.""

After being extricated, and asked why he put his
head there, he said, " It was to look on wi'' an'it/ur
xvoman ! "

Rah was one day offered the choice a sixpence
or a penny.

"I'll no bf! greedy,"' said he, "Til jist t;ik' the
wee white ane.""

Receiving a gratuitous dinner at a favourite inn
in Kilmarnock one day, and dining to his heart's
content, the waiter remarked, as he was preparing
to leave the table —

"Tm sure ye\e gotten a guid diimer the day,
Rab!"

" On, ay,'' replied Rab ; " atweel have I ; but if
^ the folk o' Ayr speir if I got a dram after't, what

Willi

say

Rab's dream is well known. Dr. Auld often
showed him kindness, but being once addresbed

378

HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

hy Iiiiii whvn in a luiny, and uut of Iiuinoiir, he
said —

"(ift away, Kal) — IVo notliin^ for yoii to-day.'^

"Whaw! wlu'W ! " critd Ral), in a lialf howl, hall
whining tono, "I dinna want onything thi' day,
Mistor Anld. I wantrd just to tell yon ab(K)t an
ttwsomu drcain I liad ; I diranu'd I whs dead.*"

" Well, wliat tht-n P"" asked Dr. Anld.

"On, I was carried far, far, far, and up, np, up,
till I cam' to heavcars yctt, whaur I chappit, an'
chappit, till at last an angel keeked out an' said,
* Wha are ye ? '

"' Ym puir Rah Hamilton,' says I.

" ' Wliam- are ye frae ? ' says he.

" ' Frae the wicked toun o Ayr,' says I.

" * Hech, man,' says the angel, ' Fm glad to see ve
here. I ken tlie place, but thei-e's naebtnly come
this gate frae the toun o' Ayr sin' the year'" so and
so (mentioning the year when Dr. Anld was inducted
into the parish).

Finding Jock Amos busily engaged with a knife
on a piece of wood one Sabl)ath day, Mr. Hoston,
the niinistcr, approached him, and said, "John,
can you tell nie which is the Fourth Command-
ment ? "

" I daresay, Mr. Boston, it'll be the ane after the
third," was the reply.

Can you repeat it?" jisked the divine.
Fm no sure al)oot it," answered Jock. "I ken
it has some wheeram by the rest."

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THISTLEDOWN

Mr. Boston lepcc'itod it, and tried thereby to show
Jock Ills error, but —

" Ay, that's it, sir," said Jock, and kept whittling
away.

" Why, what is the reason you never come to
church, Jolin?"" inquired the minister.

" Oh, because you never preacli on the text I want
you to j)reach on."

" What text would you have nie to preach on,
John?"

" On the nine-and-twenty knives that cam' back
frae Babylon."

" I never heard of them before."

*' Ha ! ha ! the niair fool ye 1 CTang liame an'
read yer Bible, Mr. Boston ! Sic fool ; sic minister.''

Subsequently Mr. Boston found the text sure
enough in E/ra i. 9th, and wondered greatly at the
'cuteness of the fool, considering the subject on
which he had been reproving him. And now, "The
mair fool ye, as Jock Amos said to the minister," is
a well-worn ])i'overb.

It was to this same Jock Amos that a female
acquaintance, following a connnon Scotch idioni^
said one day, " Jock, how auld will you be?" They
had been talkinir of a«res.

" Humph ! It wad tak' i wiser head than mine
to tell ye that," was Jock's )'c})ly.

" It's unco queer that ye diima ken how auld ye
are?" returned she.

" I ken wcel enough how auld I am,'''' said Jock,

380

HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

Jock Imd to be

"but dill) a ken how auld TU be:
addressed by the book.

Will Speir ^y^.^B the eldest son of the Uird of
Caniphill, Dahy, Ayi-«hire, and many witty stories
are put to his credit Report had it that the cause
ot his mental abenation arose in this sin.ple way.
When a boy, some of his companions, in mere frohc
caught hnn, and suspended him by the lieels over
the parapet of a bridge of very considerable hei-dit
ana from that hour the hitherto lively boy became
dull, absent, and unsociable in his habits. Will
when he chanced to visit the village of Dairy, lod.red
with two personages-Souple Sar.dy, and Rab Paik,
or Pollock— whose intellects were at a greater
discount than even his own. Robert Spetr the
brother of the witty natural, w^xs precentor in the
Parish Church of Dairy, and, when present. Will
usually threw in the whole strength of his lungs to
assist his brother, so that no vt.ice but his own
sometimes could be heard within the ranoe of a
dozen pews. Rab Paik, his feUow-lodger, tried to
keep up with him, but could not muster such volume
of voice as his associate. This annoyed Will rather
than otherwise, and one day he glared over in the
chrection of his confederate, and shouted—

"Sing, man, Rab, sing, for the hail burden o' the
Psalm lies on you and me an' our Rab."

Will was accustomed to assist the beadle of the
church, whereof he was an unworthy membe.-, in
some of the less important fmictions of his ollice.

381

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THISTLEDOWN

On one occtision, during service, a fight took place
between two sturdy collies, in one of the aisles of
the church, which interrupted the senice for a time.
Will rushed to the scene of the riot, and belabouring
the Ix^lligeix'nts with a sticlv, he exclaimed, "If
you would pay mair attention to what the minister's
sayin"* to you, it would be r - \le better for you than
tearing your tousie jackets . . that gate. Tak' better
care o' your claes, you blockheads, for there's no a
tailor in lieith can either mend thae, or niak' new
anes to you when they're dune," and having delivered
such stinging re{)roof, the censor gi'avely returned
and resumed his seat.

Seated on the bench below the pulpit, Will ojie
r^abbath joined in the psalmody with such noisy
zeal that Mr. iHillerton, the minister, tapped him
ou the head, saying, " Not so loud. Will."

" What, sir," retorted the natural, " will I no
praise the Lord rcitk a' iny viichtf''

Mr. Fullerton had advertised from the pulpit that
he was to hold a diet of examination in a certain
district of the parish, and meeting Will on his way
thither, he incpiired of the half-wit wliy he never
appeared on such occasions.

" Beca.use ye dinna gi'e fair play," was the I'eply.

" WTiy," said the minister, " what do you mean
Will?"

" Ye should alcx) cpiestion about," returned Will.

This point was conceded by the minister, and
Will, accordingly, appeared at the next diet,

382

)k place
[lisles ot
• a time,
ibouring
led, "If
;iinister"'s
vou than
!k' better
:'e''s no a
iiak'' new
delivered
returned

Will one
ich noisy
)ped him

HU I no

ilpit that
a certain
1 his way
he never

reply,
ou mean

1 Will
ster, and
iet.

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The Kiirl cillcd mil. •■ Cnnu- hack, sir : that is not the rita(h" •• Dn
you koii." asked Will. •• wham- I"iii i;aiiii ;- " " No." replied his l.onl
sliip.^ " Weel, lioo the deil do ye ken whether this i)e the road or
no? "' 'I'iK/i .;,s'./'.

m r ^

l»^ ii>

mUm. ''

Ift^l

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HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

"How many Gods are there, William?" the
catechiser asked.

'* There is but one only, the living and true God,"
replied Will.

Mr. F. was proceeding with the next question,
" How many persons," etc., when he was interrupted
with, " Na na, minister, a bargain's a bargain ; it s
my turn noo. How many deevils are there ?"
" I really cannot tell," replied the di\ ine.
" Is that the gate o' ye already ? " exclaimed Will,
and made off with himself as quickly as possible.

Will was a sort of half- privileged haunter of
Eglinton Castle and grounds, and knew the Earl
-very well. Discovering him crossing a fence one
day preparatory to making a « short cut " towards
some point in the demesne, the Earl called out,
" Come back, sir ; that is not the road."

"Do you ken," asked Will, " whaur Fm gaun ?"
"No," replied his Lordship.
^ " Weel, hoo the deil do you ken whether this be
the load or no ? " and having said so, away he went
Entering the house of a clergj-man in Beith,
famed as a skilful performer on the violin, and
hearing the minister playing on the fiddle. Will
began to dance, and contiiuicd in his omu unmeasured
style till the clergyman was fairly tired. The pi-actical
connnentator on catgut then handed Will a shilling.
"Hech," said Will, "this world's uncoly changed,
for in my young days it was the dancers that aye
pay\l the fiddler."

383

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THISTLEDOWN

Passing along the road by the side of the minister's
glebe one nioming, whilst haymaking was in progress,
the minister asked Will if he thought the weather
would keep up, as it looked rather like rain.

" Weel," says Will, " I canna be sure sae early in
the day, but I'll be passin' this way the nicht again,
an' ril ca' in and tell ye."

On making his way to a farm-house one day
where he was usually (juite at home, Will accidentally
lighted on a young cow of his host's, which had got
swamped in a bog.

The poor creatiu'e was sunk so deep that no more
than the ridge of the back, the head, and half the
neck was to be seen. Will ran to the house at his
utmost speed, and threw open the kitchen door flat
against the wall, which rebounded back again with
a noise like the discharge of a piece of artillery.
The whole family, who were engaged at morning
prayei-s, started from their knees. " Ye're losin'
mair than ye're winnin'," exclaimed Will, almost out
of breath. " There's ane o' yer stirks doun in the
bog there. Rin an' tak' her out, or she'll sune be
o' nae mair value to you than the hide an' bonis.
Prayers aie a' I'icht, an' ye're no sae aften at them
maybe as ye should ; but dinna be prayin' when ye
should bo puttin' to hands." Will's gospel was
thoroughly orthodox.

Surely, my reader, these anecdotes and illustra-
tions, besides revealing the strong and ready sense
of humour which obtains in the mind and manifests

384

HUMOUR OF SCOTCH NATURALS

itself in the speech of the ordinary Scottish iiatuml,
serve to corroborate the witty saying of the Kev.
Walter Dunlop of Dumfries, namely, that "Yell
often see a bricht licht shinin' through u cracks

* J *«: I

385

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THISTLEDOWN

CHAPTER XV

.TAMIK KI,KKMAK, THK I.AIKl) OF IMIXy's FOOL

JAMIE FI.EEMAN, thu Laird of Udny's Fool,
J the most illustrious, was probably the very
last of his order in Scotland. A real " natural,"
Jamie had, notwithstanding, rare " glimmerings of
connnon-sense," as Bailie Nicol Jarvie avowed con-
cerning the Dugal Craitur, and possessed a pungency
of ready wit and humour and withering sarcasm
which caused him to be dreaded as a foe and trusted
as a friend. Without troubling to follow the details
of Jamie's career, interesting as these aie, we will
simply glance en •passant at his strange personality,
and proceed to account some well -authenticated
stories in which he was a prime actor.

Biographically, suffice it to say that, according to
one writer, he was a native of liOngside, in xVberdeen-
shire, and was born on the 7th April, 1713, whilst
an earlier chronicler asserts that the place of the
great man*'s birth is so uncertain that the eighty-
and-one parishes of Aberdeenshire might, if they
pleased, contend for that honour in like manner a.s
the seven cities of Greece contended for the gloiy
of having been the birthplace of Homer. Jamie
spent the days of his boyhood about the house of

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JAMIE FLEEMAN

Sir Alexander Guthrie of Lu(l(|uhani, and at a very-
early period of life began, by his blunt nesn of manner
and shrewdness of remark, to attract the notice of
his superior. By and by he |]p*avitated to Udny,
which remained his "head-quarters'" during man"
pleasant years. lie hud a strange appearance.
"His countenance — indescribably, and even pain-
fully, striking — wore that expression vhich at oikh-
betrays the absence of sound judgment; his lu;ui
large and round — his hair perhaps naturally brown,
but rendered, by constant ex|)osure to the weather,
of a dingy fox-colour, and not sleek, but standing
on end — as if Jamie had been frightened out of his
wits — indicated that his foolishness was not assumed
but real." A pei-son of strong and reliable affection,
Jamie had equally strong and confirmed prejudices.
Tlie latter had respect to places, pei*sons, and
animals. No red-haired woman, for example, could
gain his respect. **\Vhaur saw ye ever a lady wi'
scarlet hair ? " he would growl. He had a prejudice
in favour of dogs, and a hatred of cats, and this,
he said, was " gentleinaimy."" All the curs in the
country knew him, and were glad to see him.
WTiercver he stayed, the dog was generally permitted
to share his bed and board. At Wateiton he tiiught
a large house-dog to observe a line drawn across the
porridge pot. On one side of the line the porridge
belonged to Jamie, on the other the dog was per-
mitted to feed, Jamie''s spoon making the boundary
line to be duly respected. One morning the dog

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being from home, the cook insisted that the cat
should be permitted to take Cun'y\s j>lace. Fleeman's
countenance fell at the suggestion, but he did not
venture to remonstrate and nm the risk of losing
the cook\s favour. Pussy was accordingly placed at
the opposite side of the pot from Jamie, but ignorant
of the law of the pot, she speedily transgressed by
putting her nose across the mai-shes. Fleeman
suspended operations, and viewed her for a moment
with an eye of sovereign contempt. A like trans-
gression on the part of the dog would have been
adecjuately punished by a slap over the head with
the back of his spoon ; but less mercy must be shown
to the cat, so, quietly slipping his hand down on
the enemy"'s head, he, with a sudden jerk, plunged
her over the eai-s into uhe scalding mess, gravely
remarking the while, " Desperate diseases require
des})erate cures, ye curst wretch!"

Factora were no favoiu'ites with Jamie either, and
it was a trait in his character that he employed
every opportunity that presented itself to annoy
those whom he held in aversion. One day a pro-
prietor, at whose house he was on a visit, was
walking out with his factor, and showing him a field
of hill-land which he had cultivated at considerable
expense, but which had proved very unproductive.
"I have tried many things,*" said the gentleman;
" what do you think, if planted, would be likely to
thrive in it ? "

The factor, a very coipulent man, put on an air

JAMIE FLEEMAN

he cat
;einHti''s
lid not
' losing
iced at
;nomnt
ssod by
^k'oinan
noinent
3 trans-
ve been
a,d with
e shown
own on
plunged
gravely
require

iier, and
ployed
annoy
a pro-
it, was
a field
iderable
ductive.
leman ;
kely to

an air

of great conse([uence, and stocnl nnising for a time,
duiing which Jaiiiiu wjis overheard saying —

*' ()"d, I could tell ye what would thrive in't."

"Well, Fleeman,^ said the Ltiird, "and wliat
would that be?"

" Plant it wi' factors, Laird," said the fool, "they
thrive in eveiy place; but for a' that," added he,
"deil curse the crap, ifs no a veiy profitable ane."

The proprietor of an estate near by I dny was
held in special avei-sion by Jamie, and one day
when the fool was lolling on the bank of the Ythan,
basking himself in the sun, he was hailed from the
other side of the water by this laird, who asked hiia
where was the best ford. The malicious knave
directed the laird to the deepest pool in the river,
and the laird attempting to cross narrowly escaped
drowning. When he airived, sorely drenched and
" forfouchen," on the other side, he made up to
Fleeman, and in a voice hoarse with passion, accused
the poor fool of a design to drown him. "Gosh
be hei*e. Laird ! " said Jamie, " I've seen the geese
and the deucks crossin' there hundei-s o' times,
and Tm sure your hoi"se has far langer legs than
they haV."

To try if Jamie was proof against the allurements
of pelf, some one about the place scattere<l a few-
copper coins on the way between the house and the
well, and kept watch at the time when he would be
sent out for water. Fleeman, carrying his buckets,
came to the place where the coins lay, and, eyeing

389

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THISTLEDOWN

thoni for a moment, he nuittorcd to Ininsflf — ^just
loud c'iu)U<;h to be heard by those \\\\o wutched his
coiuhict — "When I cnny water, I curry water; nnd
Nvhen I gjitlier bawlx-es, I gather l)awlx'es,"' and
{Missed on. This shows that if Jamie wjls a fool, he
possessed a vi it ue which many who are not accounted
so cannot Liy claim to.

Another stoiy illustrates his extraorthnary sagacity.
On one occjusion he was sent all the way to Kdinhurgh
with a letter to the Laird, who had gone thither
some short time previously. Jamie airivi d in Kdin-
burgh safely, but he was cjuite ignoiant of the
laird's a(hh'ess ; and this he set al)out to discover.
And thus — as ho wandeii'd about in the streets, he
narrowly inspected every dog he met, and was at
last sufficiently hicky to recognise one of his old
bed-fellows. Seizing him in his arms, he ran into
a shop, and, asking a coil of rr)pe, measured olFfive
or six yards, and fastening the end of this round the
dog's neck, he set him down, and giving him a few
hcaiiy kicks, cried, " Ilame wi'' you, ye scoonging
tyke ! hame wi"" ye ! "" and, following at the heels of
the half-frightened-to-death dog, he discovered the
Laird's temporary dwelling-place.

Fleeman's wit was sometimes of a playful cast,
sometimes of a grave and didactic natiMT Imt gi -ive
or gay, it rarely failed to effect 'Ik object for which
it Wiis called forth. Piissin^ , tlie road < ve day,

he was accosted by a fopp y-dressed imuvidual,
who eyed him from head to loot, aid exclaimed in

390

JAMIE FLEEMAN

a rathiT impei'tinent nuiiintT, " You nre Udny\s tool,
are yoii not ? "

" Ay," replied Janiio, with an odd stare, jHruliar
to liiinsolf, " Tin I Mny's feel. Fa's feel are ye ? "

Heing at Peterhead, Fleenmn was one day on the
shoie near the "Wine Well," where several gentlemen
belonging to the town were assembled, atid looking
very earnestly throngli a telescope at some distant
object. Always of an en(|uiring natnre, Jamie jusked
one of the gentlemen what it was they were so in-
tently surveying. ""Oh, Jamie," said he, bantering
the fool, "we are looking at a couple of limpets
that are trying a race on the Skerry ! D ye no see
then) ? "

"I canna just stiy that I do," replied Jamie, as
grave as a judge. Then, turning up one side of his
head as if listening intentlv, he all of a sudden
assumed an animated expression of countenance, and
exclaimed with ludicrous gravity, "Lo"d bless me,
sir, I hear the sound o"" their ieet as they scamj)er up
the face o' the I'ock ! " and passed on.

Jamie's practice was nevir to call any peison a
liar, but when any one told him what he considered
was a deliberate falsehood, he just capped the initial
lie with a bigger one.

" Man, Janu'e," exclaimed an individual w horn he
met on the road one day, " have ye heard the news 't "
(Jamie had a well-known /'r7u7/«7/^ for news).

"Na, faith I," said Jann'e. all expectation. ""What
news, man ? "

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THISTLEDOWN

" O'd man,"" said he, " there''s seven miles o' the
sea buined at Newburgh this iiorning.'"

" Ay, man," replied Jamie, apparently very much
in earnest. " Weel, I little ferlie, for I saw a flock
o' skdte that darkened the very air fleein' ower this
way about breakfast -time. They gaed ovver by
Waterton to the woods o' Tolcjuhon, and they'll
likely be biggin' their nests there.""

As is often the case with naturals, Jamie was pos-
sessed of extraordinary strength, particularly in his
arms ; and in this connection there is a good story
told of him. There happened to be in Aberdeen an
English regiment, the coiinnander of which was a
gasconading fellow, who constantly bragged of the
extraordinaiy strength of his men. One day the
Laird of Udny and this orficer were of the same party
at dinner. AVlien the glass began to circulate, the
officer began to boast, and, as was his wont, got
louder and louvler in praise of his men, as he became
more and more heated m ith wine. At length, Udny,
believing that the insult was levelled at his country-
men, by the pertinacity of the officer's boast, said
rather smartly —

"From all accounts, these famous grenadiers of
yours are the best wrestlere that EugUnd can produce.
I'll take you a wager of twenty guineas that the lad
who herds my cows, and carries peats and water to the
kitchen, will throw the best man in your regiment."

The officer was in a paroxysm of rage, but confident
that his men were as good as he had represented them

392

JAMIE FLEEMAN

to bo, he readily took the bet, clenching it with an

.t'tl.^'"',""" «?^P"<'-f «-s'eoteh™:d"
socm be laid as low as ,t was on D,unHno,»ic Moor

»n "7 Tif""' '■^ *^ "■'"' ">' «t-'Sth bc-in^
apponUed. Udny, after o,-deri„g hi. ,,,, Jt to p °

cha,e halt a pound of fine twist tobacco, sc.t off to

tZZl /"'■"•« *»' •'^■"- ■"'Sht not relil
the job he had prepared for hin,, Udny thought it
fte wisest course to coax hi,„ a little, and knowin,!
h|.s passionate fondness for tobacco, he presented th:
lialf-pound, at the same time rciuarkin.r-

" I have got myself into a scrajxs Fleeman, and no
man but you can take me out of it "

Janiie eyed the tobacco with a look of great
^atisfac ,on, clapped a couple of inches from the em
of It in us cheek, and looking TJdny in the face, wi
an air of great seriousness, said—
"Wluitis'tl..vird?''

^^j'You niust shak'-a-fa- for ,„e, Fleeman," said

"Is that a'? "cried Jamie.

"Butit is with soldiers, Janiie: and if vo throw
them, ye shall get another half-pou,„l of toLc, "
Jamie lx.g«n t„ g,„„b„, ^„j „„j

custom when in good humour, and' Mdiy saw h
point was gained. ^

O" the appointed day Jamie appeared at the Cress

of Aberdeen bareheaded, hi.s h

on ordinary occ
coat which he

ision.s
u-suall

air standi njT on end

and (lres,se(l in tl

le .sackcloth

oie. The soldiers , not deeming

393

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THISTLEDOWN

that they jested with their antagonist, were playing
on him all sorts of tricks. When the hour approached
the Colonel appeared, and had his men drawn up in
order. Seeing no pciTson with Udny, he demanded
him, with an air of triumph, to produce the cow-herd
who wtis to throw the best man that England could
produce. Udny beckoned to Jamie, who came
capering forward. The officer looked with an air of
contempt on T^diiy and his cow-boy, whilst a loud
lauj^h burst from the soldiers when thev saw the
poor idiot whom they had lately been jeering
bi'onght forward iis a match for any man in the
company. As the soldiers were really fine men, and
expert wrestlers, their commander, instead of select-
ing the strongest of his party, ordered out one of
the weakest, determined, a-j he thought, to turn the
laughj as well as the bet, against Udny.

"Do you take the first shake?"'*' inquired the
soldier, approaching Jamie not without some evidence
of aveision.

" Na, na," replied Jamie ; " tak"" ye the fii-st shake,
for fear ye getna anither,"'"' and he threw the soldier
from him as he would have done a child.

Another and more powerful man shared the same
fate. The Colonel now began to suspect that Udny's
man was better than he looked. lie was likewise
irritated by the smiles on the faces of the bystandei"s,
and ordered out the best man in his regiment.

Jamie, too, was beginning to be in earnest, and
the champion Wiis seized and dashed to the ground

394

V »

playing
roached
.n up in
inmnded
ow-hcrd
id could
lo came
an air of
t a loud

saw the
jeering
1 in the
men, and
af select -
it one of

turn the

lived the
i evidence

rst shake,
le soldier

the same
it Udny's
likewise
■standei-s,
lit.

^nest, and
|e ground

JAMIE FLEEMAN

in an instant, which done, Jamie ran up to the
Laird and iiujuired —

" Lo'd 1 have I a' that dyke o' men to throw,
Laird ? If sae, tell their niaister to ca"" oot twa or
three 0** them at ance, for I maun be hame in time
to tak"* in the kye."

The Castlegate rang with shouts of laughter, and
the bet was declared off.

Jamie liked to accompany the Laird whithersoever
\i(i went, and, mounted on a huge " rung," he could
keep pace with his master's pony, if the journey was
not a very long one. One year the Laird set out for
Perth Kaces, and, as the secjuel indicates, without —
purposely or forgetfully — making Fleeiuan awai'e of
his intention. Udny had not proceeded far on his
journey, however, until the scene of his sojourn
was being talked about the house. Jamie's cars,
always on the cock, caught the word, and, taking
to his rung, he cut across the country, and reached
St. Johnstone before his master. Jamie had a friend
in the kitchen of every house at which Udny was in
the habit of visiting, and, calling on one or otlu r of
his Perthshire benefactors, he had got servi-d with
the larger half of a leg of mutton. With this he
repaired to the Brig of Perth to make a meal, and
wait the Laird's arrival. It was not long until the
Lau'd of Udny made his appearance.

" Hilloa, Fleeman," said he, reining up his nag,
*' are you here already ? ""

"Ca' awa', Liiiixl,"" said Jamie, smacking Iiis lips,

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)

rr'

and not deigning to look his interrogator in the

face — " ca' awa' ! Ye ken a body when they hae

something."

It is recorded of him that one day when travcUing

along the road he found a horse shoe. Shoi tly after

Ml". Craigie, the minister of St. Fergus, came up to

him. Jamie knew the minister well, and, holding

up the shoe and examining it carefully all round the

while —

"Od, minister,'" he said, "can ye tell nie what

that is.!^"

" That ! "" said the minister, " you fool, that's a

horse shoe ! "

" Ah ! " said Fleeman, with a sigh, "sic a blessin'

it is to liae book lear! I couldna tell whether it

was a horse"'s shoe or a mare's I "

The following is about the only anecdote recorded

of Fleemai> which exhibits a minjjclini; of the roy;ue
with the fool : — He had been sent to Haddo House
to fetch some geese thence to Udny Castle. Finding
the task of driving them before him a very arduous
one, by reason of their many peiverse digressions
from the public road, rTamie, when his patience was
fairly exhausted, procured a straw rope, and twisting
this about their necks, he took the double of it over
his shoulder and walked swiftly on, dragging the
geese after him, and never casting "one longing,
lingering look behind."' On his arrival at Udny, he
discovered to his horror, that the geese were all
strangled and stone-dead. The breed was a peculiar

;

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JAMIE FLEEMAN

one, and strict injunctions Imd been o-iven to hi.n to
be careful in conducting the geese safely hon.e. So
bis nigenu.ty, which never failed him, had to be
drawn u{K,n to devise a plan tiiat would free him
rom disgrace. Accordingly, <lragging his victims
nto the poultry yard, he stuffed their bills and
throats with feed, then boldly entered the castle.
U eli, Jamie, have you brouglit the geese ? "
"Ay have I."
" And are they safe ? '"'

,h'^'''^''J ^''^ *^''"' "^^° *^^ P""Itry yard, an'
they re goble, goblin' an' eatin' youder as if they
hadna seen meat this twalmonth. I only hope the v
haena chokit themsel s afoie noo ! "

If Jamie Fleeman's wits were "ravolIc>d," his heart
was generally found sound and in the right place
His sympathies invariably went with the weak, th.
suffering, the poor, and the oppressed; and man<,
anecdotes, not a few of them quite ptthetic in theiV
character are on record, in illustration of this
delightful side of his nature. Just one here -
rhere was a young fellow, a servant about a farm-
house where Fleeman sometimes stayed for a day or
two at a time, who had seduced a poor girl i„ the
neighbourhood, and added to his first fault bv
resolutely denying that he was the father of tlK.
child, and strenuously endeavouring to make it b.
believed that the girl's reputation had always been
of a very doubtful nature. Before the Kirk-kssion
he appeared again and again, where he declared his

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own innocence, and denounced the poor girl as a liar
and woi-se, although, up to that time, she had really
borne an unimpeachable character. With all these
facts Jamie was, along with everybody else in the
district, perfectly familiar, and he formed his own
opinion regarding them. One evening at the farm-
house aforesaid, when the ser\ants were gathered
round the kitchen fire, and, with the fool in their
midst, were playing off little jokes upon Jamie, in
order to get amusement by his quick repartee, no
one teased him more than he who had lately figured
so conspicuously before the Kirk-Session.

" Man, Jamie," said he, " yeVe sic a fool that Til
A\'ager ye that ye canna tell whether ye be your
father^s son or your mither's ? Fat answer ha''e ye
got to that? Just tell me?" And he burst into a
loud fit of laughter, as if he had got the better of
Jamie.

"Tell ye me first, then," said Fleeman, gravely,
" fat answer ye have to gie your Maker at the hist
day, when He asks you if ye didna break the lass''s
character, and then swear that ye did nae sic thing.
It will maybe then be asked of you if you can tell
whether her boy be not your son as well as his
mithcr''s ; and, faith, I'm thinking it will puzzle you
to mak"" it out that his being the son o' the ane
hindei"s him from being the son o' the ither."

Some of those pi-esent laughed, othei"s looked as if
they did not know what to do. But the upshot of
the matter was that, in the course of a few days

398

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JAMIE FLEEMAN

after, the man waited on the minister, declared
himself mis-sworn, confessed he had pmposely en-
deavoured to injure the girl's character, and begged
to be absolved from Church censure.

To an accident which befell him when following
his avocation of cow-herd, is to be ascribed the origin
of a proverb very cunent in ISuchan — "The truth
aye tells best." Fleeman had, in repelling the
invfxsion of a coni-field by the cattle under his
charge, had recourse to the unwarrantable and
unhcrd-liTce expedient of throwing stones. One of
his missiles, on an evil day and an hour of woe,
broke the leg of a thriving two-year-old. Towards
sunset, when the hour of driving the cattle hom^
had arrived, Jamie was lingering by a dykeside,
planning an excuse for the fractured limb of the
unfortunate stot. " I'll say," he soliloquised, " that
he was loupin' a stank an' fell an' broke his leg.
Na ! that winna tell ! I'll say that the brown
stallion gied him a kick and did it. That winna
tell either! I'll say that the park yett fell upon't.
Na ! that winna tell ! I'll say — I'll say- — wliat will
I say ? Od, I'll say that I flung a stane and did it !
That'll tell ! "

" Ay, Jamie," cried the Laird, who had been an
unseen listener, " ay, ay, Jamie, the truth aye tellg
best."

In couree of time Jamie was waited on to pay the
debt of Nature, and, while standing round his death-
bed, one said to another —

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CI'

I wonder if he has any sense of another world or
a future reckoning ? "

" Oh, no, he is a fool! "" replied the other. "What
ctui hi! know of such things ? "

Janu'e opened his eyes, and l(K)king this man in
the face said, " I never heard that Goil seeks where
He did not give.""

After tliis he lay (juiet for a short time, when he
again opened his eyes, and looking up into the face
of one standing near, whom he respected, he said in
a firm Tone, "Tin of the gentle persuasion, dinna
bury nie like a be;\.,c ! ""

His remains lie in the churchyard of Longside, in
close pi'oxiniity to the grave of the Rev. John Skinner,
the author of " Tulloehgoruni" ; and in kindly recog-
nition of the humanity in poor Jamie, a handsome
polished granite obelisk has been erected as near as
is known to his grave, which bears the following
inscription : —

Ekkoted
IX 1861

TO IXDK'ATK TUK CJKAVE

ow
JAMIE FLEEMAN,

IN ANSWER TO HIS I'RAYER,

"DiN'NA BuHY Me like a Beast.**

400

;r world or

\ "What

lis man in
seks where

S when he
o the face
he said in
on, dinna

ingside, in
II Skinner,
dly recog-
handsonie
as near as
following

HAWKIE"

CHAPTER XVI

((

HAWKIE

-A GLASGOW STREET CHARACTER

THE streets and lanes, highways and bycways, of
our large cities form platforms on which many
a (juaint und curious cliaracter appears and cuts capers
to diaw forth the surplus coppers of the impression-
able portion of the lieges. Here it is a fiddler-
there it is a ballad singer — here a clog-dancer — there
aspouter— now a nmte, hungry-looking soul, whose
rags appeal to the crowd with a thousand tongues —
anon one who rends the air with a manufactured tale
of woe. But anujugst all the tatterdemalion class of
public entertainers, street beggars, etc. — and their
name is legion — there has not perhaps appeared
^vithin the memory of living men one who was better
Jvnown whilst he lived, and whose memory is likely
to remain longer green, than the animated bundle of
rags and bones known amongst men by the self-
created pseudonym which stands at the head of this
paper. Verily, who hsis not heard of Hawkie ; and
where in broad Scotland have not his jibes and jests,
his flashes of wit and humour, not been told and
retold ? Every book of Scottish humorous anecdotes
of any account, from The Laird o' Ijjgnn downwards,
contains specimens ol his smarl

cpartee^ biting

401

THISTLEDOWN

casm, and ivcklcss wit, as its choicost bits; and a
brief bi()<^ra{)hi('!il sicctch, intci-spcrscd witli the most
i(.'llin<^()t'the tdliihic withicisnisof this kiii^ otScottisb
be^^ufs, will be read with iiitei-est, if not with jjiolit.
His leal name was William Cameron, and he was
born at a place called Plean, in the parish of
St. Niniaiis, in Stiilin<rshire, where his matei'iial for-
bears had been residenters for generations nnknown.
His mother's name wjis Paterson. His father, Donald
Cameron, was a native of liiaemar, and claimetl
distant relationship to the Ciimerons of Lochiel. At
the time of our subject's birth, he (the father) was
C'ngag(!d as a mashman at a distillery in the neigh-
bourluiod of Plean. His parents were very poor
and during tlio harvest season his mother went forth
to the shearing, leaving William in charge of a girl
about six years of age. WHiilst thus imperfectly
nursed and attended lie caught damage to his right
leg, so seiious that it left him a cripple for life. At
the age of four he was sent to school. His teacher,
he said, was an old, decrepit man, who had tried to
be a nailer, but at that employment he could not
earn his bread. He then attempted to teach a few
children, for which undertaking he was quite unfit.
Writi)i2 and arithmetic were to him seci-ets dark as
death, and as for English, he was short-sighted, and
a word of more than two or three syllables was cither
passed over, or it got a term of his own making. At
this school he continued four yeai-s, but was not four
months advanced in learning, although, he said, he

402

Ig-

"HAWKIE"

was as far advnncod as his teacher. Ho next went
to a school at a place called Milton, alioiit a mile
distant, where he racked his nieiKory learning psalms,
chapters of the liible, and the catechisms, till ho
could bef^in at the Song of Solomon, and by heart
go on to the end of Malachi. At the age of twelve
he was bound apprentice to a tailor in Stirling, and
in the course of his Autobiography, which, at the
recjuest of the late David Robertson, of Whi.silt: Ji'mlie
Came, Hawkie wrote whilst ho was a winter imuak' of
the Glasgow Hospital, between the years 1840-1850,
he gives the following graphic account of this engage-
ment :-—

"The first glisk that I goto' this slubbordegullion
o"* a maister gied me the heartscad at him. Quo' I
to myser, bin' me as ye like, I'll no rowt lang in your
tether, I'se warrant ye. We're no likely, for a' that
I can see, to rot twa door -cheeks thegithcr, and if a""
reports were to be believed, better at padding the
inside o' the pouch-lids than handlin' the goose. Tlie
first job that he gied me was to niak' u holder (needle-
cushion) to mysel', and to it I set. I threaded the
best blunt, and waxed the twist till it was like to
stick in the passage. I stour^d awa', throwing my
needle-arm weel out, so that my next neighbour was
obliged to hirsel' awa' frae me to keep out o' harm's
way. I stitch 'd it, back-stitch'd it, cross-stitch'd it,
and then fell'd and placd it wi' black, blue, and red,
grey, green, and yellow, till the ae colour fairly kilPd
the ither. My answer to every advice was, I kent

403

jasii-0-

THISTLEDOWN

what, I was doiiT, did I never see my niilher niakin"
.a hussey ? Uy the time I had gien my holder the
last stitch, my juaister hinted tlwit it wiusiui Hkely
tliat I wad e'er iTiai<' saut to my kail sowthering
chiith thegither, und tliat though the .sluai-s were
rim through evi-ry stitch o' the iiideutui'L' it wadna
bi-eak his heart. Thinks I to inyser, there's a pair
o' us, as the coo said to tlio cutldie, and my crutch
can do the job as weel as your clip})ers, so I laid
the whip to my stilt, and took the road hame/''

William wjis again sent to school, his anxious
parents still thinkijig that his habits would settle
down, and that he nn'ght be fitted for acting as a
dominie in some country district. There Wiis, how-
ever, no "settlement"" in his nature, and he broke
away from the dominie as abruptly as he had
pru\iously done from the tailor. Wandering to
Gljisgow he joined a journeyman tailor's house-of-
call, then in the Pipe Close, High Street, and
soon found employment. At this time, walking in
Glasgow Green in company with a brother tfadesman
one Sabbath morning, they came across a field
preacher holding forth to a large audience, " while
the lining of his hat spoke more for the feelings of
his hearers than himself.""

"I could beat him myself,"'"' said Cameron.

The remark was canied to the work.shoj) by his
companion, and next day —

"You think you could beat the preacher,"" said
one of the tailors, addressing our subject.

404

li *

"HAWKIE"

"And so I could," retorted Caniei-on, not expecting
the tiling would be continued liirther.

On Saturday ni^lit, however, he fell in with some
tailoi-s, and the "preaching" was again the subject
of remark. Cameron still maintained that he could
beat him, and it was agreed that he should be
put to the test on the following day. Aljout foiiy
or fifty of the j)rincipal journeymen in the city
accordingly assembled next day in the hoiise-of-call,
when the unfledged orator wtis dressed in a borrowed
suit of " blacks," in order to try his mettle in the
prwiching art. At about twelve o'clock they set out,
and Westmuir, on tlie road leading to Airdrie, was
selected as the scene of action.

" My father and mother," writes Hawkie, " were
Burghers, anil possessing the works of Ralph Erskine
of Dunfermhne, whose sermons my mother took great
pleasure in reading and hearing read. I had often
to read them aloud to her, which, although to her
a pleasure, was to me a punishment ; and having a
good memoiy, which was much improved at school,
I preached one of Ralj)h Erskine's sermons. I had
got a number of lessons in elocution, for which I
had a peculiar liking, and my voice at that time not
being broken, I intule a favourable impression on the
people. We had an elder chosen to go round with
the hat, but the money came in so cjuick that there
was no need for that." Such was Ilawkie's tirst
public appearance as an orator.

For the following Sabbath another sermon was

405

•1

J2*'

\ I

THISTLEDOWN

planned, but in the interim the budding preacher
vacated the city. He is next found keeping a school
at Bloack, in Ayi-shire, behaving ex( inplary, and
carefully studying the nature of his scnolai-s. Soon
again he is in Glasgow, working at the tailor trade,
and anon keeping a school at a coal work at Plean
Aluir, in the vicinity of his birth-place. Next move,
tlie tawso are throvvn once more aside. He attaches
himself to a band of strolling players, and "stars'"
it through part of the county of Fife. The stage
turns out an unprofitable speculation, and the scene
again change.3. He is now a toy manufacturer. This
proves too laborious an occupation, and he next
becomes a china-mender. No cement will, however,
bind the unsettled changeling. At the end of nine
months he abandons the china trade, starts for
Newcastle, and embarks in field-preaching among
the collier po})ulation, who were nearly all Methodists.
This he found to be a lucrative job.

"I got so dexterous at that craft," he writes, **t.iat
I might have had a chmch, and wjis approved to be
admitted into the brotherhood, but was afraid that
the holes' of tmj robe xcoukl not hold a button, and a
small Imrrsf ofivind zcould expose the inside icork.''''

He abandons preaching, quits Newcastle, sets out
for Carlisle, and remains there until his money is
done. He then starts for Scotland, coming through
Annandale, and asks charitv for the first time in his
life in the village of Ecclefechan, Dumfriesshire.
In bis brief Ciueer he has already acted many and

406

:' U

HAWKIE

vaiicd parts, and each one has left him a little lower
down than it found him. At the age of thiity he
lets slip the spirit of independence that had hitherto
struggled against his natural inclination towards
utter depravity, and becomes a comn^ion beggar.
Attempts to rescue him had been put forth time
and again, but all ^o n*": pur[)()se; liis nature was
predisposed gutterwards, and down he went.

" Oh, man,"" he was once heard to say, \vhen
remonstrated with about his dissolute life, "if I
hadna the heart o' a hyena, my mit]ier\s teal's would
hae saftened it Irng afore now. My conscience yet
gies me sair stangs wlun I think aboot her, and I
hae just to huz/irt asleep wi"" wliisky."

Begging from door to door, and occtisionallv selling
chap books in the streets, he wandered o\ei" the most
of Scotland, a.s well jis over a large part of England,
and had many strange experiences, which, in course
of time, were faithfully recorded in his "Auto-
biography" already refei'reil to. Tliese records, I
may state in passing, edited by John Strathesk, the
\>' til-known author of B'th from Bl/t/khoiw?/, were
recently published by David Robertson Sc Co., of
Glasgow. The book is a revelation of boggar-life
well calculated to do good, as its perusal will convince
any unbiased mind that ninety-nine percent, of your
door-to-door beggars are ari'ant rogues and vaga-
bonds. Read alongside of Haw kie's Autobiograf)hy,
Rurns"'s "Jolly Beggars"''' is found to be no fancy
fe. In his description of Be'Xiiars"' Dens of a

picture

iption
401

OO"

any

r^i

mt'\

.'■if

|i s

ii/ 'I

). , '

THISTLEDOWN

consequence all over the land there are foinid lite-
like portraits of the various " randie gaiigrel Ijodies,"
who, "in Poosie Nansie's held the splore to drink
their orra duddies."" Andrew Genunells, the oiiginal
of Scott's " Edie Ochiltree,'^ averred, in hi.s remoter
time, that begging had become scarcely the profession
of a gentleman. As a trade it was forty pounds in
the year woi-se than when he practised it, and, if he
had twenty sons, he would not l3e easily induced to
breed one of them up in his own line. Even in
Hawkfe's time the profession, however, was not quite
playwl out. The Canomnills Road in Edinburgh,
when he first started, was, he says, worth on an
average five shillings and a few pence dailv The
King's Park \sixs not worth anything e: ■•< |>i on
Sunday, but the fii-st f^unday he begged in it,
standing hat in hand from three in the aftern(X)n
until nine at night, he lifted over seventeen shillings.
Paisley and a number of villages in the neighbour-
hood are admitted to be excellent grtnmd for th(>
"cadger," A beggar may remain in Paisley, Hawkie
avrrs, and live on the best of the land. Gangrel
bodies will therefore do well to take Hawkie"'s ex-
perience along with Lord Beaconsfield's hint i.:nd
" keep"" their "eye on Paisley."

But we must return to what is more pai'ticularl}
our present subject — Havvkie and his witticisms.
Glasgow wjis the scene of his triumph as a street
orator and wit. Wliilst he wandered to and fro
in the eaith, he was a nameless, unknown gangrel,

408

id litb-
)odies,''''
) drink
)riginal
•emoter
afessiou
unus ill
d, if lie
need to
Sven in
ot quitf>
nburgh,
I on an

':vp\ on
1 in it,
fternoon
shillings,
rhbour-
tor thi'
^awkic
.THiigrel
cie's ex-
int c-nd

bicularly
:ticisms.
a street
and fro
jransn^l,

;

"HAWKIE"

drifting- towards a "aidger pownie's death at some
dykoside/'' But settling down in the nieicantile
capital, the keen struggle for existence which obtains
there roused his dormant energies into full play, and
he soon became a " luan of mark." Dioiicnes with
his tub was not better known in the streets of Athens
than W{is Hawkie with his crutch for many yeare in
the streets of St. Mungo. He first made his presence
felt there some time subsequent to 1818. About
this time an impostor of the name of Ross had been
gulling the gaping mob with a prediction Inat the
Bridgegate of Glasgow, with its swarm of motley
inhabitiints, was doomed to sudden and complete
destruction. Cameron possessed a ready turn for
^••itiriail burlescjue; so, envying Ross his following,
he set up a claim for prophetic vision also, and
made his Seer *• Hawkie, a twa-year-auld quey frae
Aberdour, in the County of Fife, and sister-gennaii
to Ross."" She also foretold the destruction of the
Bridgegate, but from a different cause than that
given by Ross. "It is to be destroyed,"" said the
Aberdour stirk, "by a Hciod o' whisky, and the wives
will be ferrying in washing tubs frae ae door to
anither, and mony o"' their lives will ])e lost, that
itherwise micht hae l)een saved, by louting owcr their
tubs to trv the Hood, wliether it w,is Sky-blue or the
real I'^enntosh." This pi-cduction was a pi-otitable
speculation for some time, and Cameron continued
to cry it so frequently that the name of the "stirk"
took the place of his own.

409

\.^

« ;\

( f

■ I'

','

, ■

THISTLEDOWN

Hawkie was ever ready to enter into a '•'ligious
discussion, and IVecjuently showed great skid in the
management of an argument. One day he ell into
a discussion on the doctrine of Baptism with a spirit-
dealer in the city, who maintained that the mere
observance of the external ceremony was all that was
required,

" Do you," says the gangrel, " insist that sprink-
ling wi"" watei' constitutes baptism ?"

" Yes, I do," replied the bar-master.

" Weel, then, gin that be a' that's necessary,
yoiu- whisky casks may dispute Christianity wi'
ony Protestant Bishop in the hale country." This
clinched the argument.

Hawkie's besetting sin was an inveterate love of
ardent spirits. " I am surprised, Hawkie," said a
person remonstrating with him one day on his
diss(ilute life, " that a person of your knowledge and
intellect can degrade himself by drinking whisky
vmtil you are deprived of retison, and with whom
the brute could justly dispute pre-eminence. 1
would allow you two glasses per day, if you can't
want it, but not more."

"Now, that's fair," replied the wit; "but will ye
lodge't in a public-house .? Man, ye dinna ken what
I hae to do. My forefathers, and foremithers, too,
were a' sober folk, and I hae had to drink for them a\
Ye see, they ran in debt to the British Government,
and left me to pay't \ and when I cudna do't I got
an easy settlement wi' the folks o' the Exchequer,

410

^).

"HAWKIE"

;'ink-

on condition that I \vi\s to pav"t up by instalments,
and wherever I saw a house wV readiui^ abune the
door-head, ' Biitish spirits sold here,' to pay in my
dividend ; and tliere was nae fear o' it coniin' to
them."

Hawkie once had a watch, and the only one,
moreover, that ever beat in his fob. " It didiui cost
me niuckle," he said. " I bocht it at a sale ae nicht,
and the match o't against time was never in onybody''s
pouch, for it gaed a** the four-and-twenty bom's in the
fii*st ane after I row'd it up."

" You are well accjuainted with the but and
ben end of the 'Lfuul of Cakes,' Ilawkie," said a
gentleman to him.

"Ay, man," replied the wit; "I micht throw the
halter ower the neck o"" my siiH, and it uould tuin
in o' its ain accord to its (jjua.ters for the nicht,
without liappin' or windin' in ony corner o't."

"It's a wonder, Hawkie, that ye can live," said
another. " A man o' your intellect, trampin' up and
down among a' the riff-raff that bey; the countrv."

" Oh, but man, is that a' ye ken," replied the
indomitable one ; " I hae a profession to suppoi-t —
Fm a collector o' poor's rates."

"You must have a surplus ot funds," continued
the gentleman ; "for I think you are a talented and
industrious collector."

"Weel, man," returned Ilawkie, "I adnn't baith j,
but for a' that I ne'er got what paid the collector
decently."

' t

*' I

411

THISTLEDOWN

J (I

I have myself something to do with collecting
accounts, Hawkic, but if your rates are as difficult
to call in as my accounts are, you must have battle
enough in your profession ? "

" Oh, man, youVe no up to your business. YeVe
but a green hand. I could learn you to get your
accounts ! I ca' in accounts regidarly whaur there's
naething awin** to me.""

" Hae, Ilawkie," said one of his ahnonei-s, " there's
a penny to you, and gae awa', man, and get your
beard taV-n aff ; ye micht draw lint through't for a
heckle, Tni perfectly ashamed to see you gaun about
like a Jew."

" Oh ! " replied Hawkie, " but you forget, freend,
that it disna suit a beggar to be bare-faced."

" I shall endeavour to provoke Hawkie into retoi't,"
said a gentleman who was well known to the wit, to
a friend. And passing the beggar, with head turned
away to avoid recognition, he remarked, in a voice
sufficiently audible, " He's a perfect blackguard and
impostor, that Hawkie. He should be sent to
Bridewell ! "

" Hech, man," retorted Hawkie, " you're the only
neebour-like person I hae seen the day."

" What v.ill you charge to teach me the profession
of begging, Hawkie?" incjuircd one.

" Man, ye couldna come to a better hand for your
education," replied Hawkie; "and I'll just tak' ye
on the terms the poor weavers used to tak' their
apprentices ; I'll gie you the half o' your winning."

412

) ,

ollccting

difficult

ve battle

3. YeVc
get your
ur there'^s

, « there's

get your

irrli't i'or a

xuu about

et, freend,

to retort,"
the wit, to
-ad turned
in a voice
cjuard and
le sent to

•e the only
profession

d for your
list tak' ye
tak' their
sinning."

((

"HAWKIE"

Thafs a shockiiig-like liat you have got on your
head, Hawkie," siiid one. " You never had anything
like a decent one, but that is certainly the worst I
ever saw you have."

"I got it in Paddy's Market," said the wit, "and
ifs made on the sliding scale." said he, taking it off,
and lifting off' the upper portion. "Man! — I kent
the slidiug scale afore Peel."

"Did you ever hear an ass, bray, Hawkie?""
queried a young whiskered l)uppy.

"Never till the noo," was the instant reply.

The street orator entered a shop t)ne day wliere
there happened to be a gentleman from Perth standing
at the counter.

" Were you ever in Perth, Willie ? " said he.

"Yes, I hae been there," said Hawkie; "and I
hae gude reason to mind Perth. I gaed in at a
street ill-lichted, and I thocht, nae fear o' the police
hero; so I connnenced my story. But I hadna weel
begun when a voice frae a window cries out, ' Get
you gone, sir, or the police will find quartei's for ye.'
I ne'er loot on that I heard the threat, but cried
a^^ a' till I got to the end o' the street, and then took
the road to my lodgings. I hadna been thiCi-e mony
minutes when in comes ane o' the police, and lugs
me aff to jail, whaur they keepit me till ^fonday —
this was Friday — and just let me out then wi' as
much daylicht as would let me see across the brig.
That's a' that I ken about the Fair City." Standing
for a few minutes, he held out his left hand, and,

413

^ ..

I «

THISTLEDOWN

I L

■ 1

i 1

i/'l-

1 1 '

I .1

[i;.i

gathc"."iiig tlio fingci-s of his right to a point, he
clipped thoni into the hollow of his left, snying,
" Woel, sir, ^vhat are ye gaun to gie to redeem the
character o"" yonr town ? ""

Hawkie entered the shop of one of his almoners
one day whilst a process of j)ainting was going on.
" 'I ake care of your clothes ! "" shouted an attendant
at the counter.

" Tak"* ye caie o' your paint," retorted the ragged
wit. " it's niair likely to be damaged by me than I
ajH by it."

The orator was addi-essing an audience in the
street Cyfie day when he was interrupted by a pjisser-
by — " I see you are preaching, as usual, Ilawkie.""

" Yes, I am,'"' sju'd he, holding out his open hand,
*' and there's the plate for the collection."

.\ little carpenter, with a shaving tied round as a
hat-band, observing Hawkie standing at a corner,
accosted the orator with, *'Man, Ilawkie, do you see,
Fm gaun in mournings for you ? "

" Is't no,'"' replied Hawkie, appealing to the crowd,
" a puir account o' Presbyterian Glasgow, when
a brat like that is perniitted to gang about in
mournings for a man before he's dead?"

Our oratenr du pave, by reason of his calling and
behaviour together, got into frequent conflict with
the police.

"Take the road, sir, and not obstruct the street,"
was the imperative demand of a batonman to him
one day.

414

If! i 1.

HAWKIE "

^ K

jint, he

sayings

ceni tlie

.Inioners
oing on.
:tendaiit

; ragged
e than I

111

X passer-
vkie."
en hand,

>uik1 as a

a, corner,

yon seo,

He crowd,
when
ibout in

ling and
lict with

2 street,""
n to him

"I hae nae richt tilPt,"' replied the wit; "I pay
iiae road money."

On another occasion he wns told to be off' and not
disturb the street by collecting mobs.

"Dinna blame nie,'' was the reply, "but the
congregation.""

"'Don't stand there, sir, and collect a crowd,"
exclaimed a gentleman in blue to him one day.

"Man,"" responded Ilawkie, "there's a power o"*
hearei'S, but few believers.""

Calling on a shopkeeper somewhat late one evening
soliciting a trifle to help to ])ay his lodgings, the
merchant remarked that he had .surely come little
speed during the day when he had not made so much
as would defray that small matter.

"That's a' ye ken," replied liawkie ; " my Itxlging
costs mair than yours does."

" How do you make that out P"^ was asked.

"Til tell ye," said the vagrant. "In the first
place, it tak's fifteenpence to mak' me drunk — hoards
and banes mak"" \ip the bed i\ud contents, and unless
I were drunk I couldna sleep a wnik — the bed that
I hae to lie doon on wad mak"' a dog y(iwl to look
at ; and then the landlady mnan be paid, though a
week's lodgings wad buy a' the boards an' bowls
that's in tlie house. I hae made but little the f^ay.
I was up at the Cowcaddens, whar they hae little to
themsel's, an' less disposition to spare; an', wearied
oot, I lav doon on the roadside to rest me. The
laddies as they passed mvlO sayin, ' Hawkie's diiink I

415

_ —j:::::^^^"

THISTLEDOWN

I'i

M:
l('i

TTawkic's drimk!' An\ man, my very heart wiis
like* to biiik"', I WHS sue vt'xM to think it wusna truf."

Some forty years ago, wlien th(! N ery Rev. liinhop
Murdoch was ]Jisho[) in (rlasL^ow, Ilaukie, in his
rambles often made his way to the Hishop's residence
in Great Clyde Hlreet, and as tlie liisliop was wjll
acquainted with Ilawkio and his pawky sayinjL^s, lie
often rewarded him with a plate of soup or a glass
of spii'its, vhiehever he appeared to he most in need
of. On one occasion a clergyman from the Highlands
was paying a visit to the Bishop, and as they hoth
chanced to bo standing at the window conversing,
they saw Hnwkie slowly making his way in their
direction. The liishop, turning to the clergyman,
told him that that was one of Glasgow"'s charactei-s,
famous for his witty sayings, etc., and that he would
call him in, when he would })robably hear for himself.
Accordingly, Hawkie was brought in and shown into
the room beside the reveirnd gentlemen. The Bishop
spoke a few words to him, and then, as ho sav/ Ilawkie
looking at the pictures on the walls, ho asked him if
he knew any of them.

" ]Maybe,"'' was the answer.

The Bishop, pointing to a likeness of himself
which was haiK^iu"; on the wall, asked him if he
knew it, and if it was a good likeness.

" Ou, ay," said Flawkie, "ifs no bad.*"

He was then shown an engraving of the Pope,
and, being told who it was, he said, " I dinna ken,
I never saw him.'"

416

:mi

HAWKIE

*' Well,"''' said the Bishop, pointing to a ])ict»ii-o of
tliu Crucifixion, which w.is lmii<^in;^ bolwcun the two
likenesses, "yoii sui'cly know tluitr'"

Ilawkiu gu/ed inti'iiily ut it lor a niimite, and
then said, "I uyo heard that Christ was crncilied
bi'tweeii twa thieves, but I ne'er kent wha they were
aibre.''

It is needless to say Hawkie wjis rewarded with
his glass of spirits, and both the gentlemen enjoyed
a good laugh at the witty answer.

On one of the Glasgow half-yearly Fasts (now an
unknown institution) Ilawkie took his beat on the
Dumbarton Road, between Glasgow and Partick.
As the day hap})ened to be fine, the *' collector of
poor's rates'" justly ciilculated that this district would
be well fre((uented. "I am sent out here tliis after-
noon," said the ever fertile " collector'" to the objects
of his iissessment, " I am sent out here this afternoon
by the clergy of GUisgow to put a tax on a* you
gentry that hae nnstii''en tlie coimtry for the kirk
tlie day."

He cherished an inveterate hatred of the Irish,
and the lash of his satirical tongue never wagged
with more delight than when it wsis flaying the
back of poor Paddy. " Gae hame to your bogs and
ditches I " he would shout. " Blast ye I the Glasgow
folk canna get the honest use o'' their ain gallows for

yer

Pm neither," said our public lecturer, "a Toi-y

nor a Radical. I like middle courses — gang ayont

417

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

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1.25

If "a ma

■" I'M III 2.2

... 1^

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Sciences
Corporation

L1>'

C^\ <*

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y I4S80

(716) 872-4S03

r^^

to. W-?

'.0 W^ "i

'"/.

THISTLEDOWN

that, either up or (l(M)n, it disna mutter — it's a week
ony way ye like to tjik"' it.""

A fewgentkiiRii going home from a supper party,
amongst whom was the amiable John Imlah, the
wiiter of many popular Scottish songs, were accosted
by Ilawkie for the bL'ggar's impost.

"Theres a bawbee/' said Mr.Lnlah, "will that (1()?'^

*'No,"" says the collector, **it wimia pay for ye a\"

*' How much, then, are we owing to you ? "

"I wjis looking ower niy Ixjoks last nicht, and I
think you are owing me tippencc/'

" How much will you let us oil' for — present, past,
and to come?''

"Pope I.CO X.," said Hawkie, "in the sixteenth
centiuy, connnenced the sale of hululgfuces, for the
purpose of aggrandising his Churcli, and the harlot
kirk never fairly danined hersel' till then. I'm no
gaun to follow such an example.""

This Ingenious arginncnt, we may be sure, bi'ought
forth more tlum the stipulated amount.

Oiu* "collector of poors rates" frequently took
his stand at the north end of Glasgow Biidge. On
the occasion of a special public rejoicing, a, grand
floral arch had been thrown ()\ er there, iK'aring in
its very appearance the endence of a lavish expendi-
ture of the public funds.

" \Vlmt height do you think that arch will be?"
asked some one of Hawkie.

*' The heicht o' hanged nonsense," was the instiint
reply.

418

"HAWKIE"

Diniii<; the latter years of his life the poor waif
had to take winter shelter in the Town's Hospital,
leaving which, in thesprincr, I),-. Anehincloss, snr<reon,
who wjvs very attentive to iiini, pive him some moiiev,
remarkinir, "Weel, Ilawkie, Fll tak' a bet that the
fii-st place ye lanrl in is a spirit-cellar."

"Til tak' odds on your .side, doctor," repHed
Hawkie.

On his first appearance in the street to follow his
wonted callini^, he thus addressed iiis hearei-s,—
"Weel, ye'll hae been thinkiif I was dead, but I
needna tell ye that that^s no true, for Tm a living
evidence to the contrary. I have been down in flic
Town's Hospital this while takinir care o' rnvseP, for
I hae nae notion o' puttitr on a fir jackit as huuj; as
lean help it. Hut Tm nae better otherwise than
when I gaed in, and, if 1 may believe my ain een,
there's as littli' iiiij)rovenient on vcu."

The "fir jacket" so much dnttdi-d encircled the
poorgamrrel in 18.51, and the streets and lanes which
once knew him so well, will know him no more for
ever.

The following genuijie illustration of Hawkie's
street oratory, contributed hy \Xmiuu Finlay, n
Paisley poet, to the pages of fiV/M/A' /i}„k}r, will
fitly conclude the j)resent paper,

** A u.,.. I u:a u 1!

A-hev! bide

a wee

IxkII

les, and (iniiia hurry awa

flo

hame, till ye hear what I hae gotten to t

you think that I cam' out at this time o' nicht to

cry to the stane was o' the Urig-gate for naethi

"K»

419

^^g-- tf

•I!

■V

THISTLEDOWN

or for onythinf^ clso than the public ^u'u\ ? — wcannf^
my constitution down to rags, like ihv clais on my
carcase, without even seeking a pi'tision tViu; Ilcr
Majesty ; thoiij^li niony a poor U'^gar wV a star o'er
his breast has gotten ane for far less/"'

(Voire from the cnricd) — "■ Ilawkie, yo should hao
been sent to Parlianifiit, to croak there like some
ither l*arliainentary puddocks till yer thioat were
cleared."

( licply) — "Tak' aft* yer hat when ye speak to a
gentleman — it's no the fashion in this country to
put hats on cabbage stocks —a haggis would loup
its lane for fricht afore ye — ye'll be a kiug where a
hoinspoon is the emblem of authority!" ( liciuiiics)
— "Here ye hae the history of a notorious beggar,
the full and particular account of his birth and
parentage— at least on his niither^s side. This heir
to the wallets was born in the byre o"* a kintra farmer,
an" just in the crib afore the kyc, an"* was welcomed
to the world by the nose of honest Ilawkie.''''

(From the crowd) — " Was this a sister o' yours,
Ilawkie.?"

(Jm-xiH-r) — ""Wliatna kail yaixl cam"* ye out o'?
Thafs yer brither aside ye, is't.'* YouVe a seemly
pair, as the cow said to her cloots." ( Coniinues) —
" It ne'er could be precisely ascertained the hour of
this bi-ggar's birth, tliough the parish records hae
been riddled to get at the fact. I maun also tell ye,
for I dinna like to impose on my customers, that
doubt about the day o' the inontl?,

gre;

4^20

,.rl

"HAWKIE"

an' even alK)ut the month itscl'; but that he was
born hasna bcon (hsputcd, though it might hao k-en,
if ue ha(hia an account o' his life and death to
convince the gainsayci-s. He avnxcd s(M,ner at the
yeai-s o^ discretion than usual ; an' if ye dinna ken
the periml when a Ix'ggar's haini comes to his estate
duly (|ualified, Fll tell you—it's when he ceases to
distinguish between ither foIi<'s property and his
ain."

(From the crotcd)—^' \M,at a poor stock ye maun
hae; ye hae been yelling about that beggar, till the
story is as bare as your ain elbows."

ri?«/or/ ;—«IIech, man, but you're witty— when
ye set out on the tramp, dinna come to me for a
certificate, for I really couldna reconnnend ye; ye
havcna brains for a beggar, and our funds are no in a
condition to gi e ony pensions the now." (Confimw.s)
— "Ye hao an account o' the education which he
received ridi^jg across the meal pock ; and the lair
that he learnt aff' the loofs o' his mither, ^^hich was
a' the school craft he e'er received; but sic a {)roficient
did he himser gxx^y.- m loof lair, that, like a' weel
trained bairns, he tried his hands on the haffits of
his aiild mither in turn, and gied her sic thunderiir
lessons, that she gied up her breath and business in
begging at the same time to her hopeful son and
successor."

( Voice from the crowd)—'' Ye should hae keei)it a
school amang beggars, and micht hae taen your stilt
for the taws."

421

)

l^\c\

■(i

I ,;'■.

:1|

THISTLEDOWN

(Iieto7i) — "Oh, man, I would like ither materials
to work wi' than the like of you ! ifs ill to bring out
what's no in ; a Irt'ch would as soon tuk"" blood out
o' my stilt as bring ony niair out o' you than the
spoon put in." (Rf.sutin.sJ — " Ve liac nn account ot"
his pi'ogit'ss in life a^er he began busiiess on iiis
ain account, and what a skilful tradesman lie turn'd
out — he could ' lay on the cadge ' * iK'tter than ony
walletocr that cYt coost a pock oVr his shouthcr.

""Ye hae an account o' his liist illness and death —
for beggai-s dee <is wecl as ither folk, though s(>ldoni
through a siu'feit ; ye hae also a copy o' his last Will
and Testament, bequeathing his fortune to Ixi dnink
at his dredgy — the best action he ever did in his
life, and which niak's his memory a standing toast
at a"' beggars"* carousals — when they hae onything to
<hink it wi' ; and really, you'll allow mo to remark,
if we had twa or three mae public-spirited beggars
in our day that would do the like, the trade might
yet be preserved in the country — for it has been
threatening to leave us in baith Scotland and Kngland,
in consiujuonce of tlu? opi iiing up of the trade wi'
Ireland, and the prices hae been broken ever since ;
we hae a' this to contend wi' to preserve the pocks
frae j)erishing, for the sake o' our children."

(Voice from the croxcd) — "Och, Willie, is it youi'
own self that Tm hearing this morning? and how
did ye get home last night, after drinking till tlvj

* Skilful address in begging— /^>/r<. <>/ Jiurkish Slanff.

422

"HAWKIE"

daylight wakened ye ? troth, ye did not know your
own crutch from a cow's tail."

(Retort)— ''Oh, man, Paddy, it's naething new to

me to be drunk, but it's a gre:it larity to you no

for want o' w ill, but the bawbees. What wav cam"
ye here, Padtly ': for ye hae naething to pay for your
passjige; antl your claes are no worth the thVead
and buttons that baud them thegither; gin I had a
crown for every road that your trottei-s could get
into your trowsers by, it would be a fortune to me.
'Take me over,' sjiid you, to your ould croak-in-the-
bog ; * I wish I had my body across agin, out of this
starvation could country, i'or there's nothing but
earth and stones for a })oor man to feed on ; and in
my own country Y\\ liave the potato for the lifting."
Hech, man — but the police keeps ye in order — and
ye thought when ye cam' o"ct to live by lifting.^
man ! alf wi" ye to your bogs— there's nae place like
hanie for ye, as the Dell said when he found himsel'
\w the Court o' Session.

" Yo hae an account o* this beggar's bunal, and
his dredgy."

(Boifs voHf from the rmitY/J--" AVjus yo there,
Hawkie.? surel}-, if the stilt could hand ye up !"

"Och, sirs, are ye out already — you're afore your
time — yon should hae staid a wee langer in the nest
till ye had gotten the feathers on ye, and then ye
would liae been a goosi- worth the looking at."

(Coiitlmufi)—''^\(: a dn'dgy as this beggar had
wad niak' our Lords o" Session lick their lips to

423

v.-

THISTLEDOWN

ft I

hear tell o' — thae gentry come down ainonjr us like
as niony pouthei-nionkeys — with their heads dipjM'd
in flower- pcK'ks, to gie them the appeaiance o'
what neither the school nor experience in the world
could teach them — gin haiigie would gie them a dip
through his trap-door, and ding the dust art" their
wigs, there"'s no a beggar frae John o^ Groats to the
Mull o' Galloway that wadna gie his stilts to help
to mak' a bonfire on the occasion.

" Ve hae the order o' the procession at the bunal
— it's the rank in the profesi?ion that entitles to tak'
precedence at a beggar's burial — ye never hear tell
o' blood relations claiming their right to be nearest
the beggar's banes. We'll be thinking the warld is
on its hist legs, and like to throw aft' its wallets too,
when sic an event occurs.""

(Interrupted) — " Your stilt would, nae doubt, be
stumpin' at the head o' them a\"

(Rcplij) — "Stan' aside, lads, I'm just wantin' to
see if he has cloots on his trotters, for horns are sae
common, nowadays, umang the gentry o' the blood,
whar we should look for an example, that they hae
ceased to distinguish the class that nature intended
them for." (Goes on) — "First in order was Tinklers,
the beggars' cavahy, wha being in constant consulta-
tion with the gentry of tlie lang lugs, luie some
pretensions to wisdom ; next Swindlei-s, wha niak'
the best bargains they can wi' their customers, with-
out pretendin' to hae ony authority for doin't — no
like our black coats, wha can only get authority on

424

\t ,'j

!<!l

"HAWKIE"

ae side, to fr,m^ to a .scene of iiiftir extensive useful-
ness, whar the preachinjr ,,.iys better— our brethren
of the pock u'foliou this example; they never stay
lancr whar fhere^s naething either to ^ret or to tak'-l
but Ftn f()r<rettin«r myser; at their heels were Pick-
pockets, wl)a just tak^ the han^rma,rs heltcr wi' them,
and rra.i^r the l(,„gth o' their tether— for hangie aye
keeps the hank in liis ain hand.

" Next, Chain-drappei-s the jewellei-s in the camp,
whii arc ready to sell cheap, or lialf the profits wi'
everylx)dy they n.eet, and wha are like mony o^ our
public instructors— aye get mair than they gie —
then Prick-the-loops, whu are sae fannliar wV the
han^rnian^s loop that they\L' tm-ned the idea into
business, and set up wi' their ^-arter— which they
can easily spare, as they hae seldom ony stockinjrs
to tie on wi't ; by this simple expedient they mak^
lar^re profits on snia^ capital. Next, Chartei-ed-
beggars, or Blne-go\\ ns— wha get a licence frae the
authorities to cheat and lie over the whole country.
"Next, tlie hale clanjamfrey o' Vagrants — for
they^ro a' but beggars^ })ainis the best o^ them—
Randies, Thieves, liig- beggars, and Wee- beggars,
Uane- gatherers and Rowley -powlcys. Criers o'

leen
but

-some wi weans.

Hangin^r-speeches-wha, generally, should hae b

the subject o' their ain stoi

a wi^vallets, broken backs, half ar

some only wi' half an e e— ither

nature gi(.>d them— and that is an e e

that they can mak' their

nis, and nae arms;

•s, wi' mair oen than

after

evervthi

ain ; snub-noses, cock-noses,
425

'■ )

jtf'

-><

,t I

THISTLEDOWN

and Imlf-nosos ; Iloniaii-noscs, laiiiT iiosivs — some o'
them like ii ulmckic-slaiit', itlurs like u jarii;Hiiell
pear; liauk-iiosrs, and iroosc-in^ses ; and mind ye I
dimiii find taull wV the last kind, for natnit- does
naething in vain, and \n\[. it there to snit the head;
hul whate\('r the si/e and description o' the neh,
they coidtl a" tak' their |)ick, for the hale concern,
man and mither's son, had months, and whar teclh
wi-re wanting, the <lelect was mair than madt' up hy
desperate willin" gnms.

'"Some Wi'W lame, thon^h their lind)s \V(>iv like
ithi'i' lolks. Tlit'it' are niae stilts made tiian lame
folk, for I mann tell you some pin<^ a-l)e<^^in«; and
forget their stilts, and liae to gan.u; hack foi- them
aloro they can come ony speed ; ithers hae nae lej^s
to he lame wi"; a few, like myser, had only ae <j;ui(l
aiie, like the {jjooso in a frosty mornin<^, hut made
np the loss hy the heggars'' locomotive — a stilt —
which a poor goose canna handle wi' advantage.

"Tlu- I'eai" (/ this pock procession was closed bv
hands o' sweeps, wha are ready for a' handlings, wliar
ihi-re's onytliing to do for the teeth; an' they hae
the advantage o' us, fin- thcyVe aye in Court-dress,
and, like honest Collie, dinna need to change theh-
claes.

"In the hamc-coming there was a scramble, wha
should be soonest at the feast, and a quarrel, an'
yon"ll maybe be surprised that there was but ae
(jtiarrel, but I maun tell you that they were a'
engaged in"t, an' maist o* them kentna what they

42G

HAWKIE

wcR. frMixi' tlu'ir croons clooml for, but just to bo
uoi^rhlKMir-likt". Thv crm-kiu^r «/ stilts, tlu- y.-IIy-
hooings o' wives mul wcuns, and tlie tlattc-r o' tinkl.Ts'
wives, wad hue engird tlie sen in the »av of IJiscuy—
<lo ye ken the distnnce at which a iK-ggar fights* his
duel ?-ir.s Just stilt length, or nearer, if his Cneniy
is no sac weel armed as hiniser.

"Ye hae a retmn o' the killed and woundtHl-
four Blind Fiddlei-s wi^ their noses bi-oken— four
Tinklers' wives wi' their tongues split, and if they
hml keepit tlicm within their teetli, as a' wives'
tongues should be, they would have been safe—
there's nae soudor or salve that can cui-e an ill
tongue— five Croons crackit on the outside— sixteen
torn Lugs— four-and-twenty Noses hiid down— four
Left Hands with the thumb bitten aff— ten Mouths
made mill doors o'— four dozen Stilts wanting the
shouther-piece— twenty made down for the use of
the family— in ither words, bmken in ts/a ! an' they
are uscfu', for we have a' sizes o' beggars, .\fter
a' this, the grand dredgy ; but I havena tin.e to tell
you about it the night ; but ye see what handlings
beggare would hae if the public would be liberal.

"Buy this book ; if ye hae nae bawbees I'll len'
,0. for I'm no carin' about siller. I hae oerish'rl tlm

}

per

pack already, an' I am gaun to tak' my Stilt

morn s

th(

they

can

morning, and let the Creditors tak' what
cxtraordi

Closing t
a sort of epilogue-

unary scene, the poet adds, as

427

t ;

II i

.jn^-

THISTLEDOWN

I i

♦' This is the end of nil.

Ili^h and low, great and small;
Tills finishes the po<»r vain show.

And the King, with all his pride,

In his life-time deified -
With the beggar is at last laid low.'

THE LAIRD O' MACNAB

CHAPTER XVII

TilK LAIKI) ()' MArSAH

|\T () (collection of tl'o nationnl humours could bo
-^ X rc^ranlid as ropi, jntaiivc or coinplcU. tliat
(litl not contain n.oro ihun a passjn^r iviWviwv to the
Laird of Macnab. • lio uas tl, hero o! many a
hidicrously funi.y story, and who, like Sir J„hh
Falst^ifP was not only ^vii t.y liinisclf, but fiv(juently
the cause of wit ni oUK.'rs. The Macnahs weiv
()ri^ri„;illy the pn)i)rietors oi extensive estates in the
ni<rhlands of Perthshire, and were someiinies styled
'•The Macnabs of Auchlyne,'' at other times "The
xVIacnabs of Hovain," "The Macnabs i,r Kinnell "^
and "The Macnabs of (Jlendochart," Francis-o.Ir
hei-o-was the last relic of the ancient, stern, feudal
system. His obtrusive peculiarities we:v pride of
family anticjuity and rank, and a withenng scoi-n
of the trousered .Sassenach. He was extri-.nely poor,
but was extremely proud, and, having no money
to boast of, he lx>asted all Ihe more of his "lang
pedicrree.'' On this latter, indeed, he could scarcely
ever speak dispassionately. As compared with the
Macnabs, the Camplx-lls and the M'lxans and such
like were creatui-es of yesterday. These might trace

429

i ■

1 .

h.l:
If V
I <f

,1k'

ill,

THISTLEDOWN

their ancestnil line even to the Flood, but that
uH'ordod them next to nothing in the comparison,
lor the Macnab, bless you — the chief of all the
Macnabs — why, he had a boat of his own, and
\\()uld never condescend to be beholden to Noah, or
any such plel)eian individual. No, no, the Macnab
recognised no superior, and there were doubtless
many Maister Macnabs, "but the auld black lad
may hae my saul,"" he would say, " if I ken but o'
ac Macnab."" How it would have roused the Laird's
ire had he lived to see the Highlands overrun with
Cockney tourists — and not only so, but to see many
ancient family seats passing into the hands of wealthy
brewers and manufacturers — we can from his own
words form some idea.

" Macnab, are you acquainted with Macloran of
Dronascandlich, who has lately purchased so many
acres in Inverness-shire?" asked a fellow-guest of
the Laird one day at a dinner party.

" Ken wha .'' " burst in the Macnab, thus easily
sent off on his genealogical steed. "The puddock-
stool o"" a creature they ca"" Dronascandlich, wha no
far bygane daured, curee him ! to offer siller, sir, for
an auld ancient estate, sir.? An estate as auld as
the Flotxl, sir ; a hantle deal aulder, sir. Siller, sir,
scrapit thegether by the miserable sinner iri India,
sir, not in an officer or gentleman-like way, sir ; but,
hang him, sir, by makin' cart wheels and trams, sir,
and barrows, and the like o' that wretched handicraft.
Ken him, sir ? I ken the creature weel, and whaur

430

THE LAIRD O' MACNAB

he comes frae, sir ; and so I ken that dumb tyke, sir,
a better brute by half than a score o' him/'

" Mercy on us, Macnab ! you surprise me," inter-
jected the querist;" I thought from the subhme
sound of In's name and title, that, like yoiu-self, he had
been a chief of fifteen centuries' sbuiding, at least."

" By the saul o' the Macnabs, sir," rejoined the
Laird, snortiu<r like a mountain whii-lwind with
rage at the danng comparison, '• naething but yer
diabolical Lowland ignorance can excuse ye for siccan
profanation! Hear me, sir! It\s fifty years and
mair bygane, a'e time I was at Glasgow, wanting
some tyking, or Osnaburgs, or what the fiend ca' ye
them, what ye niak' pillows and bowstei-s, o' ? Weel,
sir, I was recommended to an auld decent creature
o' a wabster, wha pickit up a miserable subsistence
in the Gallowgate. I gaed east a bit past the
Spoutmouth, then up sCo pair o' stairs— twa— three
—four pair o' stairs— a perfect Tow er o' Babel in
meeniature, sir. At last I quat the regions o' stane
an^ lime an' cam' to timmer, sir— about twenty or
thirty rotten boards, that were a perfect temptation
o' Providence to venture the fit o' a five-year-auld
bairn on. I gaed in at a hole —door it was nane—
and there I found a nn"serable anatomy— the picture
o' fainine, sir ; wi' a face jis white as a clout, an auld
red Kilmarnock nightcap on his poor grey pow, an'
treddle, treddling awa' wi' his pitifu' wizened trotter...
Wha think ye, sir, was this abortion o' a creatur—
this threadbare, penniless, and parritchless scrap o' an

431

i )

THISTLEDOWN

.'..■• 1

antediluvifin wahstcr r This was Maclorairs j^rand-
fathcr, sir ! Tliis was the origin o' DronascandHch,
sir ! ! And a honnie origin for a Highland cliief, by
the sanl o' the Macnabs ! ! ! "

Recognising no sii|Hrior, the Laird was conse-
(juently a law unto himself, ar rather claimed the
riiiht to be so. He rarely, however — never in fact —
was known to concede another's title to exception
from the strictuies of law and order. " Like the
Laird o' Macnab's Vclunteers,"" has become a Scotch
proverb, and thei'eby hangs the following tale, which
shows that the Laird''s ideas of volunteering were as
original as any Ii-ishman's could possibly be. Wlien
the I'^reiich war bioke out the Laird organised a corps
of infantiy, which ho styled "Macnab's Volunteei-s."
A kenspeckle lot they were, we may be sure ; but to
our tale.

One day while Lord Breadalbane was driving
do\Mi Strathyi'c on his way from Taymouth Castle
lo StirliiiL!;, hv encountered a horse and cart, the
latter containing the living carcasses of six brawny
Highlanders tied neck and heel, and the whole in
charge of a cordca of aimed gillies. On his lordship
in(juiring as to the meanijig of the strange spectacle,
he was informed by the kilted driver that —

"Tem are six tarn scoundrels, my Lort, that refuse
to pe the Land (Z ]Macnab's Volunteers, and weVe
just takin' tem doon to Stirling, ta curst hallions tat
ta are, to see if ta cauld steel will mak"" tem do their
duty.-

4;32

, iH

\>yy

'Cr

THE LAIRD O' MACNAB

This is (juite as good as the wife's reijuest to her
husband to "gang awa quietly and be hangit, and
no anger the Laird."

Speaking of the I^ird and his vohniteei-s calls to
memory an episode which exhibits our hero in the
character of a strategist of the firet water. Macnab
was proceeding from the West, on one occasion,
towards Dunfermline, in charge of a company of
the Breadalbane Fencibles. In those days, the
Highlanders were notorious for their smuggling pro-
pensities, and an excursion to the lowlands, whatever
might be its cause or import, was an o[)portunity
by no means to be neglected. The Breadalbane
men, accordingly, contrived to store a considerable
quantity of the genuine "peat reek" into the baggage
carts. On the party reaching Alloa, the excisemen
located therein got a hint as to the ct)ntents of the
carts, so hurried out and intercepted them. Mean-
while, Macnab, accompanied by a gillie, in true
feudal style, was proceeding slowly at the head of
his men, and tiie intelHgence reaching him that the
baggage had been seized by a posse of excisemen, at
once roused the lion within his breast.

" Did the lousy villains dare to obstruct the
marcli of the Breadalbane Fencibles.^" he exclaimed,
inspiied with the wrath of a thousand heroes, as
away lie rushed to the scene of contention.

" Who the devil are you ? ' he demanded as soon
as he reached the excisemen.

" Gentlemen of the Excise," was the answer.

433

J.4

'^y

',■ >

THISTLEDOWN

" Robbers, thieves, you mean ! " shrieked the Mac-
nab. " How dare you lay hands on His Majesty's
stores? If you b<; gaugei-s, show nie your com-
missions."

Unfortunately for the excisemen, they had not
deemed it necessaiy to bring such documents with
them.

" Ay ! just what I took you for ; a parcel of
highway robbere and scoundrels. Come, my good
fellows" (addressing the soldiei*s in charge of the
baggage, and extending his voice with the lungs of
a Stentor) " prime ! load ! "

The excisemen did not wait the completion of the
order, but fled at full speed.

" Now, my lads," said the Laird, " pioceed — the
whisky^s safe."

Another anecdote illustrates how equal he was
to a delicate occasion. The Lai id was a rejjular
attender at Leith races. He rode a most wretched-
looking steed, which gave occjvsion for many jibes at
his expense, and one year, while rushing in to see
the result of a heat, his hoi-se fell and was seriously
injuied. The year following, a puppy, who thought
he might raise a laugh at Macnab''s expense, looked
up to him as he passed by, and encpiired —

" Is that the same horse ye had here last year,
Laird.?"

"No," retorted Macnab, bringing his whip-shaft
down on his interrogator's head with a force that
made him bite the dust, " but ifs the same whup!''^

434

the Mac-
Majesty's
our coin-

had not
ents with

Jarcel of
my good
e of tlie
lungs of

n of the

ed — the

he was

I't'gular
■etched-
jibes at

to see
^'I'iously
hought

looked

t year,

p-shaft
e that

THE LAIRD O' MACNAB

But the Dvird's grar.d escapade-his coup cTetat-
renwuns yet to be related. It happened fo be he

a t,uly.vondcrf„l career. It is narrated at .neat
length m a MS. scrap book of his adventures m
J-served^at Breadalbano Castle, and is .nlly'l

The pressure of a dechning revent.e began to tell

^rant bills for his purchases. For nmny yca.-s these
bills were regularly discounted at tlie IVth B^ k
the Dn-ectors of which, knowing their n.on y to
be sure, though perhaps not so

o^ of these ^^::f,Hs'"^;^
them, found its way to the Stil^J^^W ^^ ^Hb
^ uient with which he had no direct c;::;!;; ;
and king no personal friend to protect his credi
at^tirhng, .t was duly noted and protested 1
notice was sent to liin.. These forniahties the I
^eated, of course, with the most lofty indiHereic
He was effectually roused, however, when the alarm :

o niig had been issued against hin, and that a

to Auchlyne House on the following Friday for the
purpose of taking hini into custocfv. The lad
called a council of war. Ja..,, his faiu^n '
housekeeper, and other two trusty retainer, wc!;'

435

(

THISTLEDOWN

made familiar with the disgrace that was threatening
to fall on the Chief of all the Macnabs. Janet was
a diplomatist of the true Caleb Balderstone type, and
the Laird trusted chiefly to her wit and ingenuity
in tlie emergency. "To clap me within four hn^^
stane wa^" said he, addressing his female major-
general, "and for what, think ye? A peetifir scart
o' a goose*'s feather — deil cripple their souple shanks.
It would ill become me to hae ony hobble-show wi'
siccan vermin, so 111 awa' doun to my Lord's at
Taymouth, and leave you, Janet, my bonnie woman,
to gie them their kail throvgh the rcck.'^ And off he
went, leaving Janet to master the situation as best
she could. This was on Friday morning. In the
course of the day the otiicors made their appearance
at Auchlyne House.

" O, sirs," quoth Janet, receiving them blandly,
"ye maun be sair forfouchten wi' your langsome
travel. Sit down, and get some meat. The Laird"'s
awa' to see a friend, and will be back momently.
What gars ye gloom that gate ? There"'s a' ye want,
and muckle mair, locked up in that kist there, in
bonnie yellow gowd, fairly counted by his honour
this very morninV' and, so saying, she spread before
the wayworn travellers a plentiful store of Highland
cheer — including kippered salmon and braxtie ham,
and a "good-willie waucht'"' of the "rale peat reek."
The gloaming came, but brought no signs of the
Laird's returning. " Nae doot," said Janet, " his
honour will be down at the EarPs, so yell just e'en

436

THE LAIRD O' MACNAB

mak"' ycr beds liere for the nicht, and the first thing
ye"ll get for your handsel in the niornin' will be a
sonsie breakfast and weel-counted siller."

The terms were suHiciently tempting, and were
accordingly closed with. The two limbs of the law
were quartered in a room the window of which faced
the East, while the clerk was, in deference to his
social status, bestowed in a room the window of which
looked towards the setting sun.

Now, opposite the window of the room in which
the oflicers skpt there grew a huge tree, the great
spreading branches of which creaked and moaned
beneath the blast during the entire niglit, and now
and again made a crash which caused the drowsy
beagles to start in their sleep, and shiver when they
had fairly awakened. Being utterly ignorant of the
cause of these disturbances, and anxious to ascertain,
the first glinnner of daylight brought one of the
officers to the window, when, horror ! there, before
his eyes, swinging backwards and forwards, suspended
from one of the main branches of the tree, was the
body of the clerk, coated, booted, and fully attired,
as if he had been taken and lynched just when ready
for the road. The poor man gave a howl which
nearly lifted the roof off the house. Five minutes
later the domestics were alarmed by the officei-s
rushing headlong down the stairs, and making in
the direction of the door, and by Janet demanding
of thein in fierce tones — " What the foul fiend d ye
mak" sic a din for ? "*

437

THISTLEDOWN

'it '^

; 1 1 •,'

, ;»; »(

" W — what's that on the t — t — tree ! " gasped out
the officers, siimiltuneously.

"Oh," said Janet, with an eldritch laugh, " it's a
bit clerk bodie frae the Bank o' Stirling that cam'
here last nicht to deave the Laird for siller. We've
ta'en and hangit the silly elf."

Not another word was needed. Tlie limbs of the
law disappeared like water pourcd on cjuick-sand, and
were beyond the reach of Janet's voice ere she had
well finished her sentence. During this brief parley
Janet's confederates slipped out and cut down the
man of straw, which, for the occiision, had been
filling the clerk's clothes ; and, quickly divesting it
of the latter, they had these deftly replaced on the
chair beside the bed where lay their still soundly
sleeping owner.

By and by the all-unconscious clerk came tripping
leisurely downstaii-s.

** Are my companions not astir yet ? " said he to
Janet.

"Yer companions?" queried Janet, with a grim
leer in her eyes ; " the Laird's gillies have ta'en
them awa' to the Holy Loch at Crianlarich and
droon'd them — and they'll be here for you
directly."

" I hear them comin' ! " cried Janet, as the clerk's
heels disappeared out at the door\\ay.

Whether the money was ever paid history deponeth
not. One thing however, is certain, and it is this,
that not all the estates of all the Macnabs that ever

438

, " it's a

hat cam'

We've

THE LAIRD o' MACNAB

existed would have tempted another emba«.sy of the
same three to Auchlyne.

ITie Laird o' Macnab paid the debt of Nature
(there was no shirking this creditor!) in the early
part of the present century. His portrait-full
length, and ni Highland costume-painted by Rae-
burn IS still m the possession of the Breadalbane
family.

rk's

4'J9

THISTLEDOWN

CHAPTER XVIII

KIKKYARl) HUMOKR

"/'"^ OD'S acre" should be about the last place in
V_J the world to which any mind blessed with
an averat^e sense of consistency, not to employ a
stronger teini, would turn \\ith delibernte purpose
in search of entcrtaiinnent of a frivolous and amusinj^
character. And yet, paradoxical as it may appear,
the most serious of all events, solenm of all ordinances,
and weird of all situations — death, burial, and the
grave — have been the subjects of the most mirth-
provoking puns and jokes ; whilst some of the wittiest
and most audaciously sarcastic of epigrammatic com-
positions are among those which have been discovered
among the tombs in the silent cities of the dead.
Like the dry and caustic humour of the Scottish
beadles, to which, in essence and order they are
nearly related, humorous and curious epitaphs no
longer prevail amongst us. This is not to be re-
gretted, for they have yielded to a more decorous, if
perhaps less truthful and enlivening order of things.
The wonder is that they ever obtained favour at
all, here or elsewhere. I say elsewhere, because
eccentricities of the kind under notice have not been

440

) n

KIRKYARD HUMOUR

pocLiliur to the kirkyards of the North. In England
the punning and eccentric epitaph has prevailed to
a grcvittr extent even than in Scotland. Every re-
presentative collection of tombstone literature reveals
this tact. Scotland alone, however, Ima produced an
abundant crop. So nuich, indeed, as to Ibnn tjuite a
distinct and interesting department of the humour
of thc! country. The utter un preparedness of the
mind for the reception of humour in such a place as
a kirkyard has occasionally, no doubt, helped what
was incongruous to pass for humorous, as from the
sublime to tlie ridiculous there is but one step ; but
the follow ing, which is still " to the fore," though
niore than two hundred yeai-s old, and may be seen
and read of all men in the lleid kirkyard, in the
parish of Gairtney, in Annandale, is sufliciently
ludicrous in itself to tickle the risible sensibilities
of any rightly organized person independently of
circumstance or association : —

•* T, Jocky Bell o' Brakenbrow, lyes under this stane.
Five of my awn sons laid it on my wame ;
I livVI aw my deyes, but sturt or strife
Was man ./ my meat, and master o' my wife;
If you've done better in your time than I did in mine.
Take the stane aff my wame, and lay it on thine."

The same may be said of the next.

Many years ago a strolling nmsician, of remark-
able appearance, of the name of Abercromby, or
"Cninnny," as he was usually called, was well known
throughout the north of Scotland. He supported

441

'/ ;

/ .

\ i

THISTLEDOWN

himself and his partner by his jkiuiv wliistle, with
which he had no difficulty in chuiniing tlu- ninsicaj
of any village. He wjls huried in the churchyard of
Cruden, in Aberdeenshire, lie composed his own
epitaph in these words : —

" Here Crummy lies, enclost-d in wood,

Full six feet one and better,
When tyrant Ueath grim o'er him stood,

He faced him like a hutter.
Now lies he low without ii boot.

Free from a world of bustle.
And silent now is Crummy's Hute,

And liwful dry his whustlc."

The followinj^ is copied from a tombstone in the
East Neuii o' Fife— C^rail, I think :—

•* Here lies my good and gracious Aimtic,
Wham Death lias packed in his portraanty,
Threescore and ten years God did gift her.
And here she lies, wha de'il daurs lift her?"

On a tombstone in the old churchyard of Peter-
head there was wont to appear this interrogatory
inscription : —

** Wha lies here ?
John Sim, ye needna' spier.
Hullo, John, is that you ?
Ay, ay, but I'm deed noo."

This is from Haddington kirkyard : —

•* Underneath this stone doth lie
As much beauty as could die.
Which while it lived did vigour give
To as much virtue us could live."

442

\ ■

KIRKYARD HUMOUR

Tlie next is fVoMi the saiiu' place: —

*• Hoiit, Atropos. luiril li.-art«-(l Ha;;.
To cut the slicii/,'h ol Jiiiiiif C'raiff;
I'or liad ht! livttl n wlu'cn mue y»'iirs.
111! had Ix-on owrt; toiij^h for nil your sheirs ;
N(»w Jaiiii«-s «Ir«»l. • iiH 111,'in wr a",
And f'(ir hi;j saki- I'll Si!)' tl-.is r,a,
111 Urivtn Juinic be thy naul !"

Mr. I'lyse Cior.lon ivlaios, in liis Juf()/)}ni>rnj>nt/,
Hint II ^suilor liavin;^' tlMiii-^Mit, |. roper to cut lose the
parish cluiivhyunl of JK•.si^toI•(l, n^ar Cnllen, in onlci
lo keep it «lecent, his exceutor pland ,i toiiihsloiir
over lii 111 iifler death, on which was ll,(. toUowin^r :

" Hie jacot Joaniirs Aiultrsmi, AlunlDiiieiisis,

Who builL this ihuniiy.iyd dyke at his own t-xpeiises."

That sn^rgests another which is hke iirio it : —

" Here lies fhr laird o' I.undic,
Sic !fiiiit:i/ uhiriii Mutidi. "

The following fin-ioiissptciinen of sepulchral lilera-
tnre is sail! to hi- copied from an old toiiil)stone
which marks the nravc of a -o! li-r in the kirkyard of
J/innfries : —

*' Here lies Andrew M'Pherson,
Who Wfus a pecnihar j)ers(>ii ;
He stood six foot two
Without his shoe,
And was slew
At Waterloo."

The following is a copy of an e[)itaph on an old
tombstone at Logiepert, in the neiyhhourhootl of
Montrose : —

K 2

443

THISTLEDOWN

*' Here lies the Smith — to wit— Tain Gouk.

His Faither and his Mither,
"SVV Tarn, and Jock, and Joan, and Noli,

And a' the Gouks thegither.
When on the yird Tain antl his wife

Gree'd desprate ill wi' ithcr.
But noo, without e'en din or strife.

They tak' their Nap thegither."

Ill Rotliwell there appears : —

" Erected by Margaret Scott in memory of her husband,
Robert Stobo, late smith and farrier, Goukthrapple, who
died, May 1834, in the 70th year of his age.

*' My sledge and hannrcr lies declined
My bellows-pipe luis lost its wind ;
My forge's extinct ; my fire's decayed ;
And in the dust my vice is laid.
My coals is spent ; my iron is gone ;
My nails are drove; my work is done."

In Cullen churchyard, in Banffshire, there is this
graphic verse : —

'* Here lies interred a man o' micht.
His name was Malcolm Downie :
He lost his life ae market nicht
By fa'in alf his pownie.

Aged .37 years. "

In the churchyard of Newtyle, Ruthveu, Perth-
shire, is the following, bearing date 1771 : —

" Here lies the body of Robert Small,
Who, when in life, was thiik not tall;
But what's of greater consequence.
He was endowed with good sense."

444

KIRKYARD HUMOUR

The tolloAving sublimely confused inscription will
bo found on the headstone, No. 41,24J2, of the Old
Ilowffin Dundee: — •

" 1830.
In memory of James

and another son

and five other friends

Who died in infancy.

Erected by

James Stewart,

spirit merchant, Dundee,

and his spouse
and three other children."

Here is another Dundee epitaph : —

J. P. P.,

Provost of Dundee —

Hallelujah,

Hallelujee."

Again :-

" Here lie the banes o' Tammy Messer,
Of Tarry woo' he was a dresser ;
He had some fau'ts and mony merits.
And died o' drinking ardent spirits.'

And again : —

" Here lies old John Hildibrodd
Have mercy on him, good God.
As he would do if he was God,
And Thou wer't old John Hildibrodd."

Marion Scott died at Dunkeld, Noveniljer 21,
1727, aged 100, and wtis buried in the Ablx!y. She
lived in the reigns of James VI., Charles I., Oliver

445

THISTLEDOWN

Cromwell (Commonwealth), Charles II., James II.,
William III., and Mary II., Aime, George I., and
George II. Her tombstone bears this inscription : —

" Stop, passenger, until my life youVe read ;
Tite living may get knowledge by the dead.
P'ive times five years I liv'd a virgin live ;
Five times five years I was a virtuous wife;
Ten times five y<ars I liv'd a widow chaste
Now, tir'd of this mortal life, I rest.
I, from my cradle to my grave, have seen
r.ight mighty kings of Scotland and a queen.
Full twice five years the Commonwealth I saw;
Ten times '.he subjects rose against the law.
Twice did I sec old prelacy pull'd down !
And twice the cloak was humbled by the gown.
An end of Stuart's race I saw : nay more !
I saw my country sold for English ore.
Such desolations in my ti..ie have been ;
I have an end of all perfection seen."

'I'

Thomas Tyre, pedlar, died on the 2nd day of
January, 1795, and wjis buried in the graveyard
of West Kilbride, where his monument, with the
following descriptive lines, may any time be seen.
He wiis o\er 72 years of age : —

" Here lye the banes of Thomas Tyre,
Wha lang had drudg'd through dub and mire
In carrying bundles and sic like.
His task performing wi' smfill fyke.
To deal his snuff Tarn aye was free.
And served his friends for little fee.
His life obscure was naething new.
Yet we must own his faults were few.
Although at Yule he sip'd a drap.
And in the kirk whiles took a nap.

446

KIRKYARD HUMOUR

True to his word in every case,
Tam scorned to cheat for hicre base.
Now he is gone to taste the fare.
Which none but honest men will share."

At Redkirk, in the paiisli of Gretna, DiimfricsshirG,
there wiis formerly a churchyard, which the sea htis
completely swept away. The only ^•estige of it is a
monumental stone, lying about 150 feet within high
water mark, and which will no doubt be soon sanded
up. The inscription upon it merits preservation : —

" Here lieth I— X. Rell, who died in ye yhere
MDX., and of his age cxxx. years.
Here bluidy Bell, baith skin and bane.
Lies quietly styll anealh this tjtanc ;
He was a stark mosstrooper shent
As ever drave a bow on bent.
He brynt ye Lockwood tower and hall,
An' flang ye lady o'er ye wall ;
For whilk ye Johnstone, stout and wyte,
Set Blacketh a' in low by nyglit,
Whyle cryed a voice, as if frae hell,
* Haste, open ye gates for hluidy Bell.'"

An eccentric cliaracter named John So, a native
of Inverkip, bequeathed his property to a iViend, on
the condition that he would get engi-avcd on his
tombstone the following epitaph written by him-
self:—

" Here lies John So,

So so did he so.

So did he live.

So did he die.

So so did he so.

So let him lie."

447

lf1

t£f

THISTLEDOWN

This, to be seen on the south wall of Elgin Cathe-
dral, is repeated in various churchyards throughout
the country : —

" The world is a city full of streets.
And death the mercat that all men meets.
If lyfe were a thing that monie could buy.
The poor could not live, and the rich would not die."

The next is found near Rob Roy's grave, ii*

Balquhidder : —

" Beneath this stane lies Shanet Roy,
Shon Roy's reputed mother ;
In all her life save this Shon Roy
She never had another.

'Tis here or hereabout, they say.

The place no one can tell ;
But when she'll rise at the last daj'.

She'll ken the stane hersel'."

Andrew Sharpe, who practised the arts of the
drawing-master and poet, and enjoyed some reputa-
tion tis a flute -player, is thus celebrated in the
churchyard of Kinnoul, Perth : —

" H'lt, for a moment.

Passenger, and read —
Here Andrew dozes

In his daisied bed.
Silent his flute.

Torn off its key.
His genius scattered

And the Muse set free."

This curious example is found in Arbrofith :—

*' Here lyes Alexander Peter, present treasurer of Arbroath,
who died 12th January. IftSO.

448

ti ,(

KIRKYARD HUMOUR

Such a Treasurer was not since, nor yet before.
For common work, calsais,* brigs, t and schoir ; t
Of all others he did excel ;
He devised our school and he hunj? our bell."

The following lines are said to be in the chntx-h-

yards of Stirling, Ordicjuhill, Dundee (Old HowH'),

P'ort Augustus, and Hamilton : —

" Our life is but a winter day
Some only breakfast and away,
Others to dinner stay and are full fed,
The oldest man but sups and goes to bed.
Large is his debt that lingers out the day,
He that goes soonest has the least to pay."

Close by St. Regulus Tower, St, Andrews, the

ashes of a sea captain and his spouse lui\e anchored

safely in their last haven, which is marked by a

simple tombstone with these words : —

" Here we lie
In horizontal position.
Like a ship laid up
Stript of her mast and riggin'."

Captain Hill, who rests in the kirkyard of Cleish,
has his virtues thus pithily extolled on the stone
which marks the sp(jt : —

" At anchor now in Death's dark road.

Rides honest Captain Hill,
Who .served liis king and feared his God,

With upright heart and will.
In social life sincere and just.

To vice of no kind given ;
So that his better part, we trust.

Hath made the Port of Heaven."

Causeway.

t Bridges.

449

J Sewers.

> (A

THISTLEDOWN

The following quaint inscription, copied from the
x\blx*y of Melrose, consecrated in 114(), is of much
historical value. From it, it would appear that one
John Munio superintended most of the ancient
ecclesiastical edifices in Scotland : —

" John Murdo some tyrn callit was I,
And born in Parysse certainly.
And had in kepying all mason werk
Of Sanctandroys, the hye kyrk
Of Glasgii, Melros, and Paslay,
Of Nyddysdale, and of Galway,
Pray to God, and Mari baith.
And sweet St. John, keep this holy k3rk fra skaith."

In Forfar cemeteiy ^\ e find : —

" Tis here that Tibby Allan lies,
"fis here, or licre about.
But no one till the Resurrection day.
Shall the very spot dispute."

Loch Ranza hrts this : —

" Here lies Donald and his wife,
Janet M'Fee;
Aged 40 hee,
Aged 30 shee."

In the Necropolis of Glasgow, which is separated
i'rom the Cathedral and its olden ceuR'tery by the
Molendinar IJurn, stands a plain stone with the
grave warninLi : —

" Stranger, as you pass o'er the grass,
Think seriously, with no humdrumming.
Prepare for death, for judgment's coming."

450

KIRKYARD HUMOUR

III the saiiie place may be seen :

" Here lies Mess Andrew Gray.
Of whom tie nuickle good can i say-
He was ne Quaker, for he had ne spirit;
He was ne Papist, for he had ne merit ;
He was ne Turk, for he drank mucklc wine ;
He was ne Jew, for he cat muckle swine ;
Full forty years he preached and leed,
For which God doomed him when he deed."

The subject of the next epitaph, owing to her
bravery at the battle of Aiicnnn Moo.-, is celebrated
ill heroic verse still to be seen in a country chui'ch-
} ard in Roxburghshire : —

" Fair Maiden Liiliard lies under this stane.
Little was her stature, but great was her fame ;
Upon the English louns she laid many thumps.
And when her legs were cutted off she fought upon her
stumps."

In the churchyard of Iloddani is found :

" Here lyes a man, who all his mortal life
Past mending clocks, but could not mend his wyfe,
The 'larum of his hell was ne'er sae shrill
As was her tongue— aye clacking like a mill.
But now he's gane~oh ! whither nane can tell—
I hope beyond the sound o' Mally's bell."

Over the last lair of a Ghisgow magistrate there is
written : —

" Here lyes— read it with your hats on—
^ The bones of Bailie William Watson,

Who was famous for his thinking.
And moderation in his drinking."

151

THISTLEDOWN

The following has been deciphcrwl from an in-
scription on a tombstone in Skye : —

'• Here lie the bones
O' Tonald Jones,
The wale o' men
For eating scones.
Eating scones
And drinking yill,
Till his last moans
He took his fill."

In the kirkyard of Hornclifte, on the Tweed, may

be seen : —

" Here lies the Horner of Horncliffe,
Pair Tarn Gordon, cauld and stiff,
Wha in this narrow hole was puttin
For his lawless love of wedder mutton."

There is a neatly expressed compliment to the

memory of a dead wife in these lines, said to be

copied from a gravestone in Meigle : — •

" She was — but words are wanting,
To say what.
Think what a wife should be —
She was that."

The writer of William Mathieson's epitaph, in

the West Churchyard, Tranent, was not nearly so

happy in his diction. It runs limpingly thus : —

'• William Matthison here lies,
Whose age was forty -one ;
February seventeenth he dies.

Went Is'bel Mitchell from.
Who was his married wife,
The fourth part of his life.

452

KIRKYARD HUMOUR

The soul it cannot die,

Tho' tir body be turn 'd to clay ;
Yet meet again must they

At the last day.
Trumpets shall sound, archangels cry,
Come forth Is'bel Mitchell and meet
William iMatthison ill the sky."

Seldom has thoio been a better excuse for an
epitaph tliaii appears in tho following?, from the
bnrial-])lace of Inchchajx-l, near Montrose :

'• Janet Milne, spouse to James Lurie, her Monument.
We do this for no other end
But that our Burial may be ken 'd."

These, though the choicest specimens of their
kind, form not more than a tithe of the humorous
and curious epitaphs which are reathly accessible
to tho writer. But— though we have not laughed
once iiTcvei-ently— perhaps, my reader, we have
laughed long enough over the " cauld clay biggin^s ""
of gloomy Death, where rests in awful solemnity
much that is sainted and sacred to us both. No
more, then.

'':

453

<''

INDEX

A'a'eoo, Ifi

Aberdeenshire woman's nfllic-

tioii, ;jK

A (l.ingfroiis case o' ii/phns, H3
A day in the desk, KiU
A fcarfu' sermon, })3
A fisher of men, S>8
Aiiislie, Hew, quoted, 27
Airlie, Earl of, hi, 2SK
Alexander, ])r. William

Lindsay, I ,'58
Also, but not llkewha, 293
Anderson, Dr. William, ,57,

80, 8-t
And the Lord said unto Moses,

(iO
Another glass and then, 62
An awfu' fricht, 175
A pig in the bed, 213
Arbroath epitaph, 1 18
Are yer aits niuekle bookitr

21t
As it is in the original, 91
A wfink before the sun went

doon, 201)
A weil<'orrected mistake, 135
Auld, Dr., .378
Auld lang syne, 1 5
dime up in

tartan, 2t5
Awfu'wark; they're just killin'

ane anither ower there, 35
Aytoun, Professor, 267, 269

Ballantyne, Mrs., 260
Balquhidder epitaph, US
Balnamoon and the brock, 19

Banffshire epitaph, til
Bannockbiirn, Story of the

battle of, 201
IJaptismal custotns, 31-6
Baptisms, Stories about, 86,

107, 108
Barbour, Sheriff, 297
Hargaig, Lord, 295
Bareboius' first day in the

desk, 158
Barrie, J. M., 30

3 noted, 51
r., of Iluthven,

Beadle on Disestablishment,

130
drawing an inferenee,

132
Begg, Rev. Dr., 17
Bettv'seourtship and marriage,

336
Bishop Irving of Argyll, 81
Bishop though he be, 107
Blackie, Professor, 29
Blaeklock, Dr. Thomas, 90
Bleakie, Sir Robert, of Blair

Athol, 205
Bluidy Bell's epitaph, 44.7
15onar, Rev. Dr. A. A., 360
Bonnie House o' Airlie, The,

^2M
Boston, Rev. Mr., and Daft

Joek Amos, 379
Boswell, Sir Alexander, 287
Bothwell epitaph, iU
Boyd, Hugh, quoted, 226
Boyd, Rev. Zaehary, 273
Braxfield, Lord, 285, 286
Breadalbane, Marquis, 107
■ Lady, 107

455

THISTLEDOWN

Mnwstrr, vSir David, :J-.2

Hroii^hiim, Lord, sJhH

liruwii, K»;v. Jului ot Hadding-
ton, \20

Brown, Dr. Jolm, 10,1

Hrucj! and Strang, .-'!">

Hiifhanan, Uolu-rt, ls:t

Hiirial ciistonis, ,'il!)

Hiirkc and Hare 'I'rial, ;lOt.

IJurns' U-tlir to William Nicol,
•21

Hums quoted, i?!, 27, lUi, 1«9,

Burns' I'oenis, Cockney Edi-
tion, i-MO
Kpififrams by, '■2i!>, t'.JO,

Anecdotes of, 251, 2,52,

23:i, 2.>t.

uiid Scott, Meeting of.

2.'>5

Burns of Castle Wcmyss, 83

Caird, Principal, lt.5
Cameron, W. C, 272
Canna ye boo, ye brute? 113
Campbell, Thom.is, 27.>
Campbell and Leyden, 276
Cameroiiian's cat, Tbe, 28;J
Carle, and the King come, Sfit
Carlyle family described, 33I.
Cia mar u tha
23()

ha thu an diiiclh.

Chfilmers. Dr., 158, 33.';
Vlu'i'if Chase in the Psalms,

l.-il
Cai'k, dankin' through

hi a. en, 38
Clan pride, 238
flioon. Dr.. 3i6
CU-rk. John, of Eldin, 291, 292,

294
Coals of fire on his enemy's

head, 10
Coat, sir ! whaur got I the

coat? 307

Co«kburn, Lord, 23, 9«, 2«j,

2!t<», 299, \VM
C!n<kburn, Mrs.. 2"iH
C<)l(pihouii, Sir James, 2HH, 29t
"Come awa, Mr. Horner, an'

help us to hang thau danmed

scoondrcls," 2H()
Congreg.'tion needing a rest,

KM)
Consolation. 3M
Convecviality that plays the

pliskv, 180
Cranston, Mr., 3.13
Craig, Willie, and the Karl of

Mansfield, 322
Cringlctie, Lord. 293
Crockett, S. U..30
Crossmichael, Minister of, 60
Curing the Coo, 17
(Jurntor Jlonim, 29,1
*' Crummy's " epitaph, 442
Cullen epitaph, 411
Cruden ,, 442
Crail „ 381

Daft Jock Amos, 379-380

Daft Jock Gordon, 371

Daft Uab Hamilton, 377-379

Daft Willie Law, 3«9

Daft Will Speir, 381-384

haoinfi Shi, 362

Davie's no a son, Davie's the

cuddy, 103
Dead flea in John's .sow!, 64
Deans', Jeanie, plea to the

Queen, 19
** Deevil choke ye," 67
Deil's Reply to Robert Burns,

The, 277
Deskford epitaph, 433
Devil, definition of the word,

()0
Dews of Herraon, 293
Dick's edition of Burns, 210
Dinna snore sae loud, Bailie

Broon, 75

456

INDEX

Dinna buiy tne like a beast,

KX)
1)oin' bmwly in IVrth, 178
JJod, sir. t}mt psaini'il no niny(

ava. Ui2
Donuld and his great rcli

tions. J()7
Don't call Mie a soldier, -JOH
DcMMi wi' the ither shiliin' or

up she eomes, i:{7
Dow, Kev. Dr., of Krrol, 78
•' Dowie in the Ilinto' Hairst."

27
Dram be haiif^'d : it's no u bit

o' use, IH't
•' Drinltin' Drams," 192
Dry enough, 78
Dimifries epitaph, iUi
DufF, Kev. Dr.,of Kilspindie,78
Dimdas, Mr. Henry, 'JOfi, 296
Dun(h;e Parish Church bcudlc

and the session, 1-29
Dundee epitaph, ii't
Dunkeld epitajjh, \Ui
Dunlop. Rev. Walter, 56, 67-69

Will

Earl of Eglinton and

Speir, '{Sli
Earl of Mansfield, ^22
Eatin' anmng the brutes, 77
E'enin's orts niak'gudc mornin'

fodder, 1.5
Elgin epitaph, 448
Eldin, Lord, 293
Eldon. Lord, 293
Epitaphs, 440
Erskine, Mr., of Alva, 29.1
Erskine, Sir Henry, 294
Erskine, Rev. Ralph, and the

blacksmith, 119
Eskgrove, Lord, 287-2S9
Every ane has his ain draff

pock, 7H
Everybody has his ain bubbly-
jock, 373
•' Evil Eye," 348

Ka's fiel are ye? .391
I'a' fuppit tilt; loonie? 13
l'"airservice, Andrew, 20
Fairgrieve, R()i)ert. beadle of

Antrum, 121
Family worship : the time o'

year o't, ,37
Far nbune tlu; mune, IH.'i
Fashed wi' .iset o' deein' men,

11. >
Fat 'ill tak'itaff, 14
I''echtiir wi' cawnil liclit, .37
Fifcr mon; Fi/inh than his

fellows, 370
Finlay, William, tpioted, tl9
Fleeman, the Laird of IJdny's

fool, .386
• resists temptation,

390

in Edinburgh, 390

in I'erth, 39,>

shak'-a-fa's the si>I-

diers, 383
confounds the guilty

ploughman, 397
Flype yer stockin', 1,5
Flype her, Feety ye «'ouldna,
^48

Following a good example. 1 J"
I'orfar cobbler, A caiuiy, '1,3
i''i<rfar epitaph, 4.50
Forfarshire beadle, 117
Fou ! Fou ! Foil ! 7f)
Foxes' tails. Story about the,

166
Eraser, Dr. Alexander, 332
Freats, 34.3-317
Freedom and whisky, 170
Fun at the Soutar's, 49

Gairtney epitaph, 441
Gallopin' consumption, 374
Gait, John, 30

Gey weel sattled doon by this
time, 201

451

THISTLEDOWN

J '

Ghost o' Manse, 3,il
Gho.;ts, stories of, 3l-9-3,5.>
GiflF-ffaff, 43
Gilfillan, Rev. George, 80, 85,

8fi, '276
Gillan, Dr., of Inchinnan, 80
Gillies, Lord, 309
Gin the t.ail breaks, you'll see

what's the maitter, 23::^
Glasgow Cathedral, Account

of, 20
(Jlasgow epitaphs, 4.50, 4.51
Gordon, Duchess of, 29
Gordon, Pryse, 413
Gouk's, Tarn, epitaph, 444

29«
Gow, Neil, 177
Gowdie, Isobel, .3.56
Gown made to fit any party,
Gowpen o' glaur. A, 15
Grace of God, 74
Grave joke, 40
Grat, an' swat, an' spat like

the very mischief, 125
Green as leeks at the Shotts,

66
Guthrie, Dr., 81, 317

Hackstoun of Rathillet, 121

Haddington epitaphs, 442, 443

Hallowe'en, 3()3-3(i6

Hamilton, Daft Rab, 377-379

Hay, Sir John, 306

Hammon's no hanged yet, 75

Harewood's, Lord, dinner
party, 204

Harry at it again, 295

" Hawkie's " account of him-
self, 405

autobiography, 403

first public appear-
ance, 405

wanderings, 406-408

debt to the British

Government, 410
lodgings, 415

" Hawkie's " profession — "a
collector of taxes, 411

- opinion of Perth,

414

413

■ retorts to the police,

- retort to Hishop
Murdoch, 416

— — politics, 417

health, 419

"fir jacket," 419

street oratory, 419

Hcrmand, Lord, 288-290
Highiandman's prayer, 225
Highland sermon, 226

letter, 229

lesson in music, 230

apology, 242

Hill, Captain, Epitaph on, 449

Hirsle yont. 15

History of Jonah, 274

Hoddam epitaph, 451

Hogg, James, 24, 260

Hogg.quoted, 24, 361

Hoo the streets o' Jerusalem

were keepit clean, 128
Horncliffe epitaph, 452
Hotch-potch, Story of, 212
How long a man may live

without brains, 368

I couldna bat win, 303

I dinna think ower muckle o'

him for't either, 315
111, vile, evil, devil, 60
linlah, John, 418
I'm the lad that lowses the

graavats, 173
IngHs, James, quoted, 95, 333,

;i.34
Insisting in prayer, 66
Intill't, what's intiirt? 212
Inveraray proclamation, 225
Irving, fidward, 69
Is't a general risin'? 69

458

INDEX

It's dowie in the hint o' hi:.Lst,

27
It'll no do chaps : we'll need

to try't a wee thocht laicher,

162
It'll tak' it a' to ser' the fouk

at the funeral, :?;?7
It's a solemn thing inarriagt;,

113
I wad hang ye a' at the same

price, 203
I wadna lippen him wi' a bull

stirk, 304.

J — a — jay — fal-de-riddle — cob,

154
Janet Davidson and the

seventh commandment, 118
Jeffrey, Lord, 30, 298
Jessie, my woman, aye dance,

105
Jock and his parritch, 35
"Johnny Gibb," 30
Johnson, Dr., 199,320
Johnnie Bell o' Brakcnbrow,

441
John Knox never askit for a

stove in his kirk, 88
Jonah and the " whawl," 61
Jummlin' the joodgement. and

confuondin' the sense, 125
Just: H hint to the Englishers,

Jii . .':• -^nco fykieness i' the
isairid, L'35

Kennedy, David, 151, 196
KilHn' ane anithtr ower there.

36
Kilniun 'oellnian, 241
Kilspindie story, 103
" Kinnciill Hill," 155
Kittlin' in the paup o' his hass,

162
Knox, John, 204.

Lady Greensleeves, 351
Lang time afore it niitk's

for Flodden, 201
Law, Rev. Mr., 74
Lawson, Dr., of Selkirk, 72-73
"Land o' the Leal," English

ideas of, 210
Leighton, Robert, 212
Left to my ain oath, 302
Leyden and C.iniphell, 276
Liberals o:* Cciist rvatives, 54
Line upon line, 15H
Loch Ran/.a epitaph, 450
Lo^?iepert epitaph, 44-1-
Lord, Tani, I wad gie a pound
for half fill oor o' thae wit-
nesses, 302
London journalists, 20
Lord Elgin's burial, .'<69
Lord's Prayer intill Auld
Scottis, 18

ye just mak' n dish-

clout o't, 71
" Lord Preserve Us ! " 2'Jl
Love defined, 335
Lundie's, Laird of, epitaph, 443
Lykewake, 349

M.
Macdonald, Dr. George, 30
Macgregor, Dr., of the Tron.

105
Mackie, M.P., Mr. John, 207
Macklin, Charles, 29
Macknight, Dr., 78
M?>fIeod, Rev. Donald, 138
Miix'leod, Dr. Norman, 57, 81-

83, 91

quoted, 210

Macnab, Laird of, 429-439
Maiden Lilliard's epitaph, 451
Maistly a native, 47
Man, yon was an ill-faured

trick ; ye'll surely tak' a look

o' the gudes noo? 216
Mansfield, Earl of, S9£

4.^59

THISTLEDOWN

*' Mansie Wauch," 30
Marriage anecdotes, 112-115
■ customs and supersti-
tions, 317-348
Martin, Sir Theodore, 267, 26!)
Massacre of the Phairshon, 269
Matthison's, William, epitaph.

Maybe they'll say the Teevil

was a Hielandman, 237
M'Cubbin, Rev. Dr., of

Douglas, 77
M'Dougall. Rev. Mr., 99
M-Dougall, Rev. Mr., of

Paislev. 164
M'Farlane, Dr., 74
Metaphysics defined, 37
IvI'Laughlan, Alexander, a

Blairgowrie beadle, 128
M'Kenzie, Old Henry, 173
M'Leans before the Flood, 238
M'Laggan, Alexander, 336
M'Taggart quoted, 358
Meadowbank, Lord, 291, 292
Milking " Matthew Henry,"

318
Men of Peace. 362
Meigle epitaph, 453
Melrose epitaph, 450
Melville, Lord, 296
Mitchell, Rev. Mr., 142
Moncrieff, Rev. Sir Henry, 157
MoncrieflF, Sir Harrv, 391
Morrison, Rev. Walter, 70
Montrose epitaph, 453
Miickle He made o' that, He

was hangit, 286
My cuit's yeukie, 15, 376
M'Pherson's, Andre V.', epitaph,

443

Naturals, 367

Necessity and Cringletie, 293

Niagara Falls, Scotch idea of,

41
" Noctes Ambrosianie," 266

Nine-and-twenty knives that
came back from Babylon,
380

No relation at all ; but just an
acquaintance' Iikcyersel', 207

No soldier, 29b

Nothing extraordinary, 50

Oats, definition of, 199

Oh, for a roan ! 154

One way of rising at the Bar,

295
0'ReIl,Max,m: 'ockney versun

Scotch >, . uur, 33
Oliphant, 1-. v. J.unes, 59
Omens, 343, 344
Oswald of Dunnikier, 369
Our A in Folk, 95
Outram, George, quoted, 192,

265
"Owre the water to Charlie,"

306

Patent machine for sowing

turnips, 330
Pairtly they do, and pairtly

they mind their ain business,

215
Paisley bodies, 41
Paul, Dr., 61

Perthshire worthies. 323-32'
Perthshire farmers, 319-3 \
Perthshire blacksmith ana Lne

drair, 176
Pearlir,' Jean, 350
Pennant quoted, li.54
Peterhead epitaph, 442
Picken, Ebeaezer, of Paisley,

277
Plenty o' milk for a' the pav-

ritch. 35
Poacher's prayer. A, 25
Pockfu' o' goats' horns at the

Brooniielaw. Like a. 7 '
Proclamation. Old, 23

460

INDEX

Prodigal son, when he came to

himself. 63
Professor of Signs, 218
Proverbs. 1.5
Pitcairn quoted, 356
Pearson, Alison, 363
Plant it wi' factors. Laird, 38fl
Prentice, John, beadle of Carn-

wath, V.U
Prince Consort, Story of, 21 1
J'unnh an offender, 29, 210
Purdie, Tom, Storv of, 259
Put on the goun, sir, 140

Quadruped hero, quadruped
there, ye should hae chppit
the brute's wings, 312

Ramsay, Allan, 267

Rarasftj^, Dean, 34, 57, 71, 369

Rantin , tantin', tearin' wind,
65

Rax Q rung, and reeshil his
rumple, 13

Readin', the paltry fallow, 90

Repeating tunes, 152, 153

Rhyming Edinburgh shop-
keepers, 46

Rin, Bookie, rin, 274

Ritchie, Rev. Dr., of Potter-
row, 181

Robertson, Bailie, of Edin-
burgh, 312

Robertson, Rev. James, of
Kilmarnock, 76

Rodger, Alexander, 224, 264

Rogers, Rev. Dr. Charles, 34,
72, 296, 306

Ross, Rev. John, Blairgowrie,
66

Russel of the Scotmtan, 98

Rutherford, Lord, 996, 329 i

Sabbath observance, Stories of,

314-317
Santa Glaus, 46
Sandy and the shower bath,

45
"Sawney, now the King's
^ come, ' 264
Savin' the bawbees, 44
Scotland described by an en-
thusiast, 198
Scotland described by a critic,

199

Scott, Rev. John, 59
Scott, Adam, in Upper Dal-

gleish, 24
Scots Mac/azlw, quoted, 23
Scott, Anecdotes of, 254-864,

331, 335, 370, 371
Scott, Margaret, 444
Scott, Marion, 445
Scott quoted, 19
Scunnered at them baith, 114
j Scorin' abune the breath, 360
' Scottish Gallovidian Encyclo-
pedia, 358
Seybo synd't doon the syvor,

13
Shakespeare maist clever
enough to be a Scotchman,
197
Sharpe, Andrew, 4-48
Sharpe, Charles, Kirkpatrick,

quoted, 350
I Sheep's head that >vill sine,
! 203

Shepherd. The Ettrick, 232
Shirra, Rev. Robert, Kirk-
caldy, 58
Shi ieh, or men of peace, 363
"Shon M'Nab."224
Sittin' up wi' the corpse, 340
Skelton, Lord, 297
Skinner, Rev. John, 56, 71
Skirving, Adam, quoted, 270
Skye, epitaph from, 452
Singing before the Queen, 59

461

THISTLEDOWN

i
i

Small, Robert, lU

Snaw finds the sinners oot, 133

Snee-snaw-snow, 156

SnufiP! snuff! snuff! 78

Snuff in the Sermon, 88

Soldier's prayer, 36

Somerville, Dr., 353

So, John, 447

Soond ! no soond I a* soond !

139
Spak* o* lowpin' ower a linn,

15
Spoon is on the loom. The, 13
Statistical ./Account quoted, 163,

349
Stick to the forms of the

Church, 80
Stuart : a curse on the name,

306
St. Andrews epitaph, 449
Stobo's, Robert, epitaph, 444
Strang and Bruce, 397
Sydney Smith and Scotch

"wut,"32

T.
Tak* a snuff, John, 88
Tamlane, The young, 363
"Tammas Bodkin,'^30
"Tandem," 143
Taylor, the schoolmaster of

Currie, r4
Teetotal story, 187
Thae fowk o' Todhills— they

havena broken grund yet,

147
The best redd wig, 73
The Peer of Aberdeen, 299
The Lord's no deaf, 102
The man's crackit, 70
The sweep's dead, 55
There they go — three-a-penny,

84
There's a chance for ye yet, 61
They're seein' noo, .^-3
The Harangue, 288
That man liroom, 388

Thorn, Rev. Mr., of Govan,

56, 75, 76
Thomson, the author' of "The

Seasons," 353
Thrummy Cap, 351
Troilope, Anthony, 83
Tranent epitaph, 453
To many I a wonder am, 157
Toom barrel aye sounds

loudest. A, 77
"Tullochgorum": story of the

author, 71
Tyre's, Thomas, epitaph, 446

V.
Valet of the shadow of death,

81
Very good for hogs, 200

Waddell, Dr. Hately, quoted,

17
Waggishness in the Inn of

Glamis, 51
Wee Macgregor o' the Tron,

106
We'll pit ye in the Gorbals

first, 39
What the devil he was roaring

at, 227
Whaur in a' the world did I

get thae (hie) young deucks ?

185
Whaur John Clerk lives, 294
'♦ White Horse," The, 02
>Vheesht a minute, sir, I think

I hear a cairt, 103
When the Lord repeats, we'll

repeat, 153
Wightman, Dr., of Kirkmahoe,

113,371
Whistlin' in Fife, 325
Wilberforce, Dr., 107
Wilson, Professor, 30, 266
With the author's compli-
ments, 267
Witches, 355-361

462

INDEX

Witch of Fife, 360
Willie Wastle, 27
Woolie Ghost, 333

Y.
Yatterin' creaturs. wha wad

ken what they said, 36
YeBanks and Brays of Bonnie

Doon, 210

Ye Chronifle of Saint Andrew.

188
Ye're far ower lood, 89
Ye see what ye've dune noo

wi yet d—d—datomedhunai^

Ye wad be nane the waur o* a

hanging, 286
Young, Rev. Dr., of Perth, 66
1 ule, Rev. Mr., 96

463