a loud tone, "Sir, I've something to tell ye; there's to be a parish
play with the Shotts folk the morn, at----"
"Whist, man, whist!" was the rejoinder. "Oh, fie, shame, John! fie,
shame! Nae speaking to-day about warldy recreations."
But the ruling passion proved too strong for the worthy clergyman's
scruples of conscience, for just as he was about to enter the inner door
of the church, he suddenly wheeled round and returned to the elder, who
was now standing at the plate in the lobby, and whispered in his ear,
"But whan's the hoor, John? I'll be sure and be there. Let us sing,
"'That music dear to a curler's ear,
And enjoyed by him alone--
The merry chink of the curling rink,
And the boom of the roaring stone.'"
=Relieving His Wife's Anxiety=
A Scotchman became very poor by sickness. His refined and affectionate
wife was struggling with him for the support of their children. He took
to peddling with a one-horse wagon, as a business that would keep him in
the open air and not tax his strength too much. One day, after having
been sick at home for two or three weeks, he started out with his cart
for a ten-day's trip, leaving his wife very anxious about him on account
of his weakness. After going about fifteen miles his horse fell down and
died. He got a farmer to hitch his horse to the cart and bring it home.
As they were driving into the yard he saw the anxiety depicted on his
wife's countenance, and being tenderly desirous to relieve it, he cried
out, "Maria, its not me that's dead; its the mare!"
=Radically Rude=
Mr. Burgon, in his "Life of Tyler," tells the following amusing story:
Captain Basil Hall was once traveling in an old-fashioned stage-coach,
when he found himself opposite to a good-humored, jolly Dandy-Dinmount
looking person, with whom he entered into conversation, and found him
most intelligent. Dandie, who was a staunch Loyalist, as well as a stout
yeoman, seemed equally pleased with his companion.
"Troth, sir," he said, "I am well content to meet one wi' whom I can
have a rational conversation, for I have been fairly put out. You see,
sir, a Radical fellow came into the coach. It was the only time I ever
saw a Radical; an' he begun abusing everything, saying that this wasna a
kintra fit to live in. And first he abused the king. Sir, I stood that.
And then he abused the constitution. Sir, I stood that. And then he
abused the farmers. Well, sir, I stood it all. But then he took to
abusing the yeomanry. Now, sir, you ken I couldna stand _that_, for I am
a yeoman mysel'; so I was under the necessity of being a wee bit
rude-like till him. So I seized him by the scruff of the neck: 'Do ye
see that window, sir? Apologeeze, apologeeze this very minute, or I'll
just put your head through the window.' Wi' that he _apologeezed_. 'Now,
sir,' I said, 'you'll gang out o' the coach.' And wi' that I opened the
door, and shot him out intil the road; and that's all I ever saw o' the
Radical."
="Gathering Up the Fragments"=
The inveterate snuff-taker, like the dram-drinker, felt severely the
being deprived of his accustomed stimulant, as in the following
instance: A severe snowstorm in the Highlands which lasted for several
weeks, having stopped all communications betwixt neighboring hamlets,
the snuff-boxes were soon reduced to their last pinch. Borrowing and
begging from all the neighbors within reach were first resorted to, but
when these failed they were all alike reduced to the longing which
unwillingly-abstinent snuff-takers alone know. The minister of the
parish was amongst the unhappy number, the craving was so intense that
study was out of the question, and he became quite restless. As a last
resource, the beadle was dispatched, through the snow, to a neighboring
glen, in the hope getting a supply; but he came back as unsuccessful as
he went.
"What's to be dune, John?" was the minister's pathetic inquiry.
John shook his head, as much as to say that he could not tell; but
immediately thereafter started up, as if a new idea had occurred to him.
He came back in a few minutes, crying, "Hae!"
The minister, too eager to be scrutinizing, took a long, deep pinch, and
then said, "Whaur did you get it?"
"I soupit (swept) the poupit," was John's expressive reply.
The minister's accumulated superfluous Sabbath snuff now came into good
use.
=Sleepy Churchgoers=
The bowls of rum punch which so remarkably characterized the Glasgow
dinners of last century, and the early part of the present, it is to be
feared, made some of the congregation given to somnolency on the Sundays
following. The members of the town council often adopted Saturdays for
such meetings; accordingly, the Rev. Mr. Thorn, an excellent clergyman,
took occasion to mark this propensity with some acerbity. A dog had been
very troublesome, when the minister at last gave orders to the beadle,
"Take out that dog; he'd wauken a Glasgow magistrate." [7]
=A Highland Chief and His Doctor=
Dr. Gregory (of immortal mixture memory) used to tell a story of an old
Highland chieftain, intended to show how such Celtic potentates were
once held to be superior to all the usual considerations which affected
ordinary mortals. The doctor, after due examination, had, in his usual
decided and blunt manner, pronounced the liver of a Highlander to be at
fault, and to be the cause of his ill-health. His patient, who could not
but consider this as taking a great liberty with a Highland chieftain,
roared out, "And what business is it of yours whether I have a liver or
not?"
="Rippets" and Humility=
The following is a dry Scottish case of a minister's wife quietly
"kaming her husband's head." Mr. Mair, a Scotch minister, was rather
short-tempered, and had a wife named Rebecca, whom, for brevity's sake,
he addressed as Becky. He kept a diary and among other entries this one
was very frequent--"Becky and I had a rippet, for which I desire to be
humble."
A gentleman who had been on a visit to the minister went to Edinburgh,
and told the story to a minister and his wife there, when the lady
replied, "Weel, he must have been an excellent man, Mr. Mair. My husband
and I some times, too, have 'rippets' but catch him if he's ever
humble." [7]
="Kaming" Her Ain Head=
The late good, kind-hearted Dr. David Dickson was fond of telling a
story of a Scottish termagant of the days before Kirk-session discipline
had passed away. A couple were brought before the court, and Janet, the
wife, was charged with violent, and undutiful conduct, and with wounding
her husband, by throwing a three-legged stool at his head. The minister
rebuked her conduct, and pointing out its grievous character, by
explaining that just as Christ was head of his Church, so the husband
was head of the wife; and therefore in assaulting _him_, she had in fact
injured her own body.
"Weel," she replied, "it's come to a fine pass gin a wife canna kame her
ain head."
"Aye, but Janet," rejoined the minister, "a three-legged stool is a
thief-like bane-kame to scart yer ain head wi'!"
=Splendid Use for Bagpipes=
A Scottish piper was passing through a deep forest. In the evening he
sat down to take his supper. He had hardly began when a number of
wolves, prowling about for food, collected round him. In self-defence,
the poor man began to throw pieces of victuals to them, which they
greedily devoured. When he had disposed of all, in a fit of despair he
took his pipes and began to play. The unusual sound terrified the wolves
so much that they scampered off in every direction. Observing this,
Sandy quietly remarked: "Od, an' I'd kenned ye liket the pipes sae weel,
I'd a gi'en ye a spring _afore_ supper."
=Practical Piety=
The following story was told by the Rev. William Arnot at a soirée in
Sir W. H. Moncrief's church some years ago.
Dr. Macleod and Dr. Watson were in the West Highlands together on a
tour, ere leaving for India. While crossing a loch in a boat, in company
with a number of passengers, a storm came on. One of the passengers was
heard to say:
"The twa ministers should begin to pray, or we'll a' be drooned."
"Na, na," said a boatman; "the little ane can pray, if he likes, but the
big ane must tak' an oar!" [10]
="There Maun be Some Faut"=
Old Mr. Downie, the parish minister of Banchory, was noted in my
earliest days for his quiet pithy remarks on men and things as they came
before him. His reply to his son, of whose social position he had no
very exaulted opinion, was of this class. Young Downie had come to visit
his father from the West Indies, and told him that on his return he was
to be married to a lady whose high qualities and position he spoke of in
extravagant terms. He assured his father that she was "quite young, was
very rich, and very beautiful."
"Aweel, Jemmy," said the old man, very quietly and very slily, "I'm
thinking there maun be some _faut_." [7]
=Deathbed Humor=
The late Mr. Constable used to visit an old lady who was much attenuated
by long illness, and on going upstairs one tremendously hot afternoon,
the daughter was driving the flies away, saying: "These flies will eat
up a' that remains o' my puir mither." The old lady opened her eyes, and
the last words she spoke were: "What's left's good eneuch for them."
=A Matter-of-Fact Death Scene=
The Scottish people, without the least intention or purpose of being
irreverent or unfeeling, often approach the awful question connected
with the funerals of friends in a cool matter-of-fact manner. A tenant
of Mr. George Lyon, of Wester Ogil, when on his death-bed, and his end
near at hand, was thus addressed by his wife: "Willie, Willie, as lang
as ye can speak, tell us are ye for your burial baps round or _square_?"
Willie, having responded to this inquiry, was next asked if the
_murners_ were to have _glooves_ or mittens--the latter having only a
thumb-piece; and Willie, having answered, was allowed to depart in
peace.
=Acts of Parliament "Exhausted"=
A junior minister having to assist at a church in a remote part of
Aberdeenshire, the parochial minister (one of the old school) promised
his young friend a good glass of whiskey-toddy after all was over,
adding slily and very significantly, "and gude _smuggled_ whiskey."
His southern guest thought it incumbent to say, "Ah, minister, that's
wrong, is it not? You know it is contrary to Act of Parliament."
The old Aberdonian could not so easily give up his fine whiskey, so he
quietly said: "Oh, Acts of Parliament lose their breath before they get
to Aberdeenshire."
=Concentrated Caution=
The most cautious answer certainly on record is that of the Scotchman
who, being asked if he could play a fiddle, warily answered that he
"couldna say, for he had never tried."
=A "Grave" Hint=
Mr. Mearns, of Kineff Manse, gave an exquisitely characteristic
illustration of beadle _professional_ habits being made to bear upon the
tender passion. A certain beadle had fancied the manse house-maid, but
at a loss for an opportunity to declare himself, one day--a Sunday--when
his duties were ended, he looked sheepish, and said, "Mary, wad _ye_
tak' a turn, Mary?"
He led her to the churchyard, and pointing with his finger, he got out:
"My fowk lie there, Mary; wad ye like to lie there?"
The _grave_ hint was taken, and she became his wife.
=A Spiritual Barometer=
There was an old bachelor clergyman whose landlady declared that he used
to express an opinion of his dinner by the grace which he made to
follow. When he had a good dinner which pleased him, and a good glass of
beer with it, he poured forth the grace, "For the richest of Thy bounty
and its blessings we offer our thanks." When he had had poor fare and
poor beer, his grace was, "We thank Thee for the least of these Thy
mercies."
=A New Application of "The Argument from Design"=
An honest Highlander, a genuine lover of sneeshin, observed, standing at
the door of the Blair Athole Hotel, a magnificent man in full tartans,
and noticed with much admiration the wide dimensions of his nostrils in
a fine up-turned nose. He accosted him and, as his most complimentary
act, offered him his mull for a pinch.
The stranger drew up and rather haughtily said: "I never take snuff."
"Oh," said the other, "that's a peety, for there's gran'
_accommodation_."
=Two Methods of Getting a Dog Out of Church=
I had an anecdote from a friend of a reply from a betheral (beadle) to
the minister _in_ church, which was quaint and amusing from the shrewd
self-importance it indicated in his own acuteness. The clergyman had
been annoyed during the course of his sermon by the restlessness and
occasional whining of a dog, which at last began to bark outright. He
looked out for the beadle, and directed him very peremptorily, "John,
carry that dog out."
John looked up to the pulpit and, with a very knowing expression, said:
"Na, na, sir; I'se just mak' him gae out on his ain four legs." [7]
=Born Too Late=
A popular English nonconformist minister was residing with a family in
Glasgow, while on a visit to that city, whither he had gone on a
deputation from the Wesleyan Missionary Society. After dinner, in reply
to an invitation to partake of some fine fruit, he mentioned to the
family a curious circumstance concerning himself, viz.: that he had
never in his life tasted an apple, pear, or grape, or indeed any kind of
green fruit. This fact seemed to evoke considerable surprise from the
company, but a cautious Scotchman, of a practical matter-of-fact turn of
mind, and who had listened with much unconcern, drily remarked: "It's a
peety but ye had been in Paradise, an' there might na hae been ony
faa'."
=A Preacher with his Back Towards Heaven=
During one of the religious revivals in Scotland, a small farmer went
about preaching with much fluency and zeal, the doctrine of a "full
assurance" of faith, and expressed his belief of it for himself in such
extravagant terms as few men would venture upon who were humble and
cautious against presumption. The preacher, being personally rather
remarkable as a man of greedy and selfish views in life, excited some
suspicion in the breast of an old sagacious countryman, a neighbor of
Dr. Macleod, who asked what _he_ thought of John as a preacher, and of
his doctrine?
Scratching his head, as if in some doubt, he replied, "_I never ken't a
man sae sure o' heaven and so sweert_ (slow) _to be gaing taet_." [5]
=Nearer the Bottom than the Top=
A little boy who attended a day school near his home, was always asked
in the evening how he stood in his own class. The invariable answer was,
"I'm second dux," which means, in Scottish academical language, second
from the top of the class. As his habits of application at home did not
quite bear out the claims to so distinguished a literary position at
school, one of the family ventured to ask what was the number in the
class to which he was attached. After some hesitation, he was obliged to
admit, "Ou, there's jist me and _anither lass_."
=A Crushing Argument against MS. Sermons=
A clergyman thought his people were making rather an unconscionable
objection to his using an MS. in delivering a sermon.
They urged, "What gars ye tak' up your bit papers to the pu'pit?"
He replied that it was best, for really he could not remember his
sermons, and must have his paper.
"Weel, weel, minister, then dinna expect that _we_ can remember them."
=Mortal Humor=
Humor sometimes comes out on the very scaffold. An old man was once
hanged for complicity in a murder. The rope broke, and he fell heavily
to the ground. His first utterance when his breath returned to him was,
"Ah, sheriff, sheriff, gie us fair hangin'."
His friends demanded that he should be delivered up to them, as a second
hanging was not contemplated in the sentence. But the old man, looking
round on the curious crowd of gazers, and lifting up his voice, said,
"Na, na, boys, I'll no gang hame to my neighbors to hear people pointing
me oot as the half-hangit man; I'll be hangit oot."
And he got his wish five minutes after.
=A Fruitful Field=
The following anecdote was communicated to me by a gentleman who
happened to be a party to the conversation detailed below. This
gentleman was passing along the road not one hundred miles from
Peterhead one day. Two different farms skirt the separate sides of the
turnpike, one of which is rented by a farmer who cultivates his land
according to the most advanced system of agriculture, and the other of
which is farmed by a gentleman of the old school.
Our informant met the latter worthy at the side of the turnpike,
opposite his neighbor's farm, and seeing a fine crop of wheat upon what
appeared to be (and really was) very poor and thin land, asked, "When
was that wheat sown?"
"O, I dinna ken," replied the gentleman of the old school, with a sort
of half indifference, half contempt.
"But isn't it strange that such a fine crop should be reared on such bad
land?" asked our informant.
"O, na--nae at a'--devil thank it; a gravesteen wad gie guid bree gin ye
geed it plenty o' butter." [7]
=The "Minister's Man"=
The "minister's man" was a functionary now less often to be met with. He
was the minister's own servant and _factotum_. Amongst this class there
was generally much Scottish humor and original character. They were
(like the betheral, or beadle) great critics of sermons, and often
severe upon strangers, sometimes with a sly hit at their own ministers.
One of these, David, a well-known character, complimenting a young
minister who had preached, told him, "Your introduction, sir, is aye
grand; it's worth a' the rest o' the sermon,--could ye no' mak' it a'
introduction?"
David's criticisms of his master's sermons were sometimes sharp enough
and shrewd. On one occasion, the minister was driving home from a
neighboring church where he had been preaching, and where he had, as he
thought, acquitted himself pretty well, inquired of David what _he_
thought of it. The subject of discourse had been the escape of the
Israelites from Egypt. So David opened his criticism:
"Thocht o't, sir? Deed I thocht nocht o't ava. It was a vara imperfect
discourse, in ma opinion; ye did well eneucht till ye took them through,
but where did ye leave them? Just daunerin' o' the sea-shore without a
place to gang till. Had it no' been for Pharaoh they had been better on
the other side, where they were comfortably encampit than daunerin'
where ye left them. It's painful to hear a sermon stoppit afore it is
richt ended, just as it is to hear ane streeket out lang after it's
dune. That's my opinion o' the sermon ye geid us to-day."
"Very freely given, David, very freely given; drive on a little faster,
for I think ye're daunerin' noo, yersell." [7]
=A New and Original Scene in "Othello"=
At a Scottish provincial theatre, a prompter named Walls, who, being
exceedingly useful, frequently appeared on the stage, happened one
evening to play the Duke, in "_Othello_." Previous to going on, he had
given directions to a girl-of-all-work, who looked after the wardrobe,
to bring a gill of best whiskey. Not wishing to go out, as the evening
was wet, the girl deputed her little brother to execute the commission.
The senate was assembled, and the speaker was--
_Brabantio_: "For my particular grief is of so floodgate and o'erbearing
nature, that it engluts and swallows other sorrows, and is still
itself."
_Duke_: "Why, what's the matter?"
Here the little boy walked on to the stage with a pewter gill stoup, and
thus delivered himself:
"It's just the whusky, Mr. Walls, and I couldna get ony at fourpence, so
yer awn the landlord a penny, an' he says it's time you were payin'
whet's doon i' the book."
The roars of laughter which followed from both audience and actors for
some time prevented the further progress of the play.
=The Shape of the Earth=
A country schoolmaster of the old time was coaching his pupils for the
yearly examination by the clergymen of the district. He had before him
the junior geography class.
"Can any little boy or girl tell me what is the shape of the earth?"
To this there was no answer.
"Oh, dear me, this is sad! What wull the minister sink o' this? Well,
I'll gie you a token to mind it. What is the shape o' this snuff-box in
ma han'?"
"Square, sir," replied all.
"Yes; but on the Sabbath, when a shange ma claes, I shange ma
snuff-box, and I wears a round one. Will you mind that for a token?"
Examination day came, and the junior geography class was called.
"Fine intelligent class this, Mr. Mackenzie," said one of the clergymen.
"Oh, yes, sir, they're na boor-like."
"Can any of the little boys or girls tell me what is the shape of the
earth?"
Every hand was extended, every head thrown back, every eye flashed with
eager excitement in the good old style of schools. One was singled out
with a "You, my little fellow, tell us."
"Roond on Sundays, and square all the rest o' the week."
=Rivalry in Prayer=
Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, has a wide-awake Presbyterian elder of Scotch
character, who, although a persistent advocate of the Westminster
Confession, occasionally for convenience sake--and from an innate love
of religious intercourse--attends the meetings of his Methodist
brethren.
At a recent prayer-meeting that was held preparatory to a centennial
service in commemoration of the progress of Methodism in Nova Scotia,
the presiding minister dwelt eloquently upon the wonderful growth and
prosperity of the Methodist Church, and upon the life of its great
founder, John Wesley. He also expressed thankfulness that on that day
there were one hundred and nine Methodist ministers in Nova Scotia. The
meeting thus very decidedly assumed a denominational character, but the
minister asked the good Presbyterian brother to lead in prayer at the
close. The elder complied, and after thanking God for the many good
things he had just heard "about this branch of Zion," he added, with
much depth and feeling, "O Lord, we thank Thee for _John Knox_; we thank
Thee for the one hundred and nine Methodist ministers in our country,
but we _especially_ thank Thee for the _one hundred and thirteen_
Presbyterian ministers who are preaching the Word of Life throughout our
land. Amen."
=A Compensation Balance=
The answers of servants often curiously illustrate the habits and
manners of the household. A bright maid-of-all-work, alluding to the
activity and parsimony of her mistress, said, "She's vicious upo' the
wark, but, eh, she's vary mysterious o' the victualing."
=The "Sawbeth" at a Country Inn=
The Rev. Moncure D. Conway, while traveling in the neighborhood of the
Hebrides, heard several anecdotes illustrative of the fearful reverence
with which Scotchmen in that region observe the Sabbath. Says he: "A
minister of the kirk recently declared in public that at a country inn
he wished the window raised, so that he might get some fresh air, but
the landlady would not allow it, saying, 'Ye can hae no fresh air here
on the Sawbeth.'" [11]
=Scotchmen Everywhere=
Was ever a place that hadn't its Scotchman? In a late English
publication we find an account of a gentleman traveling in Turkey, who,
arriving at a military station, took occasion to admire the martial
appearance of two men. He says: "The Russian was a fine, soldier-like
figure, nearly six feet high, with a heavy cuirassier moustache, and a
latent figure betraying itself (as the 'physical force,' novelists say)
in every line of his long muscular limbs. Our pasha was a short
thick-set man, rather too round and puffy in the face to be very
dignified; but the eager, restless glance of his quick gray eye showed
that he had no want of energy. My friend, the interpreter, looked
admiringly at the pair as they approached each other, and was just
exclaiming, 'There, thank God, are a real Russian and a real Turk, and
admirable specimens of their race, too!' when suddenly General Sarasoff
and Ibraham Pasha, after staring at each other for a moment, burst forth
simultaneously, 'Eh, Donald Cawmell, are _ye_ there?' 'Lord keep us,
Sandy Robertson, can this be _you_?'"
=A Bookseller's Knowledge of Books=