(_To the Editor_.)
Without intending to be angry, permit me to inform your well-meaning
correspondent, _M.L.B_. that his observations on the inhabitants of
"Auld Reekie," are something like the subject of his communication
"Shavings," _rather_ superficial.
Improvidence forms no feature in the Scottish character; but your
flying tourist charges "the gude folk o' Embro'" with monstrous
extravagance in making bonfires of their carpenters' chips; and
proceeds to reflect in the true spirit of civilization how much better
it would have been if the builders' chips had been used in lighting
household fires, to the obviously great saving of bundle-wood, than to
have thus wantonly forced them to waste their gases on the desert air.
But your traveller forgot that in countries which abound in wheat, rye
is seldom eaten; and that on the same principle, in Scotland, where
coal and peat are abundant, the "natives," like the ancient Vestals,
never allow their fires to go out, but keep them burning through the
whole night. The business of the "gude man" is, immediately before
going to bed, to load the fire with coals, and crown the supply with
a "canny passack o' turf," which keeps the whole in a state of gentle
combustion; when, in the morning a sturdy thrust from the poker,
produces an instantaneous blaze. But, unfortunately, should any
untoward "o'er-night clishmaclaver" occasion the neglect of this duty,
and the fire be left, like envy, to feed upon its own vitals, a remedy
is at hand in the shape of a pan "o' live coals" from some more
provident neighbour, resident in an upper or lower "flat;" and thus
without bundle-wood or "shavings," is the mischief cured.
I hope that this explanation will sufficiently vindicate my Scottish
friends from _M.L.B_.'s aspersion. Scotchmen improvident! never: for
workhouses are as scarce among them as bundle-wood, or intelligent
travellers. Recollect that I am not in a passion; but this I will say,
though the gorge choke me, that _M.L.B._ strongly reminds me of the
French princess, who when she heard of some manufacturers dying in the
provinces of starvation, said, "Poor fools! die of starvation--if I
were them I would eat bread and cheese first."
The next time _M.L.B._ visits Scotland, let him ask the first peasant
he meets how to keep eggs fresh for years; and he will answer _rub a
little oil or butter over them, within a day or two after laying, and
they will keep any length of time, perfectly fresh_. This discovery,
which was made in France by the great Reamur, depends for its success
upon the oil filling up the pores of the egg-shell, and thereby
cutting off the perspiration between the fluids of the egg and
the atmosphere, which is a necessary agent in putrefaction. The
preservation of eggs in this manner, has long been practised in all
"braid Scotland;" but it is not so much as known in our own boasted
land of stale eggs and bundle-wood.
In Edinburgh, I mean the Scottish and not the Irish capital, _M.L.B._
may actually eat _new laid_ eggs a _year old!_ How is it that this
great comfort is not practised in the navy? The Scotch have also a
hundred other domestic practices for the saving of the hard earned
"siller;" and are far from the commission of any such idle waste as
_M.L.B._'s story exhibits. S.S.
P.S. Tinder-boxes are unknown in Scotland, and I am sure _M.L.B._ if
he wants a business would as readily make his fortune by selling them,
as the Yorkshireman who went to the West Indies with a cargo of great
coats.
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