Air—“Ye banks and braes.”
DIPLOMACY
First Boatman (sotto voce). “That’s only the weeds he’s caught.”
Second Boatman. “Haud yer tongue, ye muckle sumph! It’s a glass of whusky we’ll be gettin’ if the body thinks he’s lost a fush!”
Country Gentleman (who thought he’d got such a treasure of a new gardener). “Tut, tut, tut! Bless my soul, Saunders! How——what’s all this? Disgracefully intoxicated at this hour of the morning! Ain’t you ashamed of yourself?!”
Saunders. “’Sh-hamed! (Hic.) Na, na, ’m nae sae drunk as that comes t’! Ah ken varra weel what a’m aboot!!”
“SHOUTHER TO SHOUTHER!”
Obstinate Juryman (Licensed Victualler). “What! Gie a vardict agyen Mr. McLushy? Not if aw sit here a’ nicht! Aw’ll see ye a’ starved first! He’s one o’ the finest gen’lemen i’ the toon, an’ comes to ma billiard-table every nicht, and a’ nichts whiles!”
FROM THE LAYS OF A LAZY MINSTREL
[We have received a note from the Lazy One, saying that he is staying in the North of Scotland with the Maclather of Maclather. He says, if we were to hear the retainers sing “Rigs Awa’”—of which he encloses a copy—during dinner, accompanying themselves on the national instruments, sporans and claymores, we should never forget it. We don’t suppose we ever should.——On second thoughts, we do not believe he has been out of town at all, but that someone has sent him a guinea Christmas hamper. “Rigs Awa’,” indeed! We’ll give him a recht gude willie waght in his ee when we catch him.—Ed.]
VERY HARD LINES
“Well, Kirsty, how’s business?”
“Middlin’, mem, jist middlin’. Some days we dae naething ava, an’ ithers we dae twice as muckle.”
Tammas (to Friend, who has joined the teetotal). “There’s nae doot, Jeems, ye’re a much improved man,—but I’ve lost a freend!”
THRIFT!
Mabel (who has just concluded a bargain for a fowl). “Then I’ll tell mother you’ll kill it and send it up to-night.”
Mrs. Macfarlane. “Na, na, I’ll no kill it till the morn. I’m thinkin’ it’s goin’ to lay an egg this evenin’!”
AN IRREVERENT SAXON
“My card, mon? I hanna got one! But I’d hae you to ken that I’m a Mackintosh!”
“You may be a Humbereller for all I knows, but my fare’s heighteenpence!”
REASSURING!
Old Gent (suddenly turning corner in narrow lane). “Oh!—I say!—Is he?—Will he?”—(backing into hedge.)—“Can he?”——
Peasant. “Don’t take no notice of ’im, sir! I’ve got a wee bit check on ’im if he runs!!”