KINGHORN AN’ LUNNON

(A Comparison)

The sichts we’ve seen! The punds my wife

Has spent instead o’ bankit!

But eh! we’re back in bonny Fife,

Sae let the Lord be thankit!

An’ Lunnon? Weel, ye ken, it’s gay

An’ busy, nicht an’ morn, man,

An’ there’s a pickle fouk—but eh!

It’s no—it’s no Kinghorn, man.

Ye’ll wanner on, an’ on, an’ on,

Through miles an’ miles o’ men, man,

An’ yet in a’ the crood like yon

There’s de’il a face ye’ll ken, man.

Na! Lunnon’s oot the warl’, ye see,

For look ye, I’ll be sworn, man,

Sic unco things could never be

In ceevilised Kinghorn, man.

The shops? Ou, aye, there’s shops indeed,

But faith, they’re rale unhaundy:

Ane keeps yer butter, ane yer breid,

An’ yet a third yer braundy.

Noo here, gin ye be wantin’ oucht,

Boots, butcher’s meat or corn, man,

Shag, bonnets, breeks, they’ll a’ be boucht

Thegither in Kinghorn, man.

The fashions? Weel, ye ken, we saw

A wheen o’ giddy hussies

Paradin’ in their duddies braw

Upon the cars an’ ’busses.

But dinna think owre much o’ yon,

For sure as I am born, man,

For style, it’s no a patch upon

Our floo’er show at Kinghorn, man.

An’ then sic ignorance! Losh me,

I’m feared ye’ll no can doot it,

But nane kent whaur Kinghorn micht be,

Nor onything aboot it.

Tis awfu’! Yet ’twad seem to ca’

For peety mair than scorn, man,

For mind ye, ’tisna gi’en to a’

To live aboot Kinghorn, man.

“USED TO IT!”

Officer at firing-point (who thinks that it’s raining). “Sergeant Mauchline, hadn’t you better wear your great coat till it’s your turn to fire?”

Sergeant Mauchline (frae the “Land of Lorne”). “Hoo! No the noo! I’ll pit it on when it comes wat!”

City Friend (visiting in Scottish rural town). And tell me, Andrew, are you wi’ the Wee Kirkers, or the United Frees?

Andrew. Man, I’m gi’en’ up releegion a’thegither, an j’inin’ the Auld Kirk.

The Scotsman who tumbled off a bicycle says that in future he intends to “let wheel alone.”

My Only “Crossed Checks.”—My own Shepherd’s-plaid Trousers.

QUANTITY, NOT QUALITY

English Angler, having discovered there are two sorts of whisky at the inn (best at 6d., second best at 3d.), orders a glass each of the sixpenny.

Gillie (in a whisper to the maid as she passes). “Make mine twa o’ the threepenny!”

A PRACTICAL APPLICATION

Irate Landlord (and Free-Kirk Elder, after being called in, for the fiftieth time, about some repairs). “The fact is, Mrs. McRacket, ye’ll ne’er be content till ye’re i’ the hoose made wi’out hands.”—(Severely.)—“See Second Corinthians, fifth chapter, and firrst vairse, Mrs. McRacket!”

“DEPRESSION”

Tourist (tipping the old gravedigger, who had shown him over the Cathedral). “I suppose, now so many visitors are in the town, you’ll be doing well?”

Gravedigger. “Ou aye, there’s a wheen fowk gaun aboot, but”—(gloomily)—“there’s terr’ble little deein’ in the diggin’ waye!”