Harry Lauder tells the following story about a funeral in Glasgow and a
well-dressed stranger who took a seat in one of the mourning coaches.
The other three occupants of the carriage were rather curious to know
who he was, and at last one of them began to question him. The dialogue
went like this:
"Ye'll be a brither o' the corp?"
"No, I'm no' a brither o' the corp."
"Weel, ye'll be his cousin?"
"No, I'm no' a cousin."
"At ony rate ye'll be a frien' o' the corp?"
"No, I'm no' that either. Ye see, I've no' been very weel masel," the
stranger explained complacently, "an' my doctor has ordered me carriage
exercise, so I thocht this would be the cheapest way to tak' it."