BUDGET OF WIT
PACKAGE OF DROLLERY.
A parish clerk in the north of England, not long ago, hired
a Scotchman for his servant, who was to go to the cart and
plough, and do other occasional jobs when wanted. In the
course of conversation at hiring, the clerk asked him, if he
could submit to the unpleasant business of digging graves;
to which he exclaimed, "I'll warrant ye, maister, I could dig
doon the kirk for that matter; but let me see, I hasn't been
put to that wark yet; aye, our auld bellman at Jedburgh
used to say, he never had better pay nor better jobs than
howking holes for fowk—faith he was aye merry when folk
dee'd." It happened soon after entering on his service, that
there was a severe storm of snow, which impeded all out-door
work. One morning he came to his master, and asked
him what employment he was to go to that day. The employer
hesitated for some moments, and at last told him, he
could find nothing for him to do. Sawney, with great
gravity, replied, "I think, maister, I'll awa up to the kirkyard
an' howk some graves; we may as weel hae a wheen
ready, for they may come faster in when they ken we are
prepared for them."
An English gentleman on a tour through Scotland, was unfortunately
accompanied by wet weather most of the time
When he set out from Glasgow to Greenock, the morning
was very fine. However, before he had proceeded half way,
he was overtaken by a heavy shower. "Boy," says he to
a little fellow herding near the road-side, "does it always
rain in this country!" "Na," replied the boy, "it sometimes
Liberty of the Press.
A master tailor in Glasgow, lately reading the newspapers
to his family, and when expressing the title "Liberty of the
Press in France," one of his daughters interrupted him by
asking what the liberty of the press meant? "I'll soon
answer that question," said he: "You know when your
mother goes out, and leaves the key in the cupboard door,
where the bread, butter, and sugar lies, then you have
access—That's the liberty o' the press."
Donald and the Laird.
A Scottish Laird and his man Donald, travelling southward;
at the first English Inn, the room in where they were
to sleep contained a bed for the master and a truckle for the
man, which drew forth from beneath the larger couch. Such
furniture being new to the Highlanders, they mistook the
four-posted pavilion for the two beds, and the Laird mounted
the tester, while the man occupied the comfortable lodging
below. Finding himself wretchedly cold in the night, the
Laird called to Donald to know how he was accommodated.
"Ne'er sae weel a' my life," quoth the gilly. "Ha, mon,"
exclaimed the Laird, "if it wasna for the honour of the
thing, I could find in my heart to come down."
How to read a Sign-Board.
A Highland Drover passing through a certain town,
noticed a sign-board above an entry, with the following
Green Teas, Raw Sugars, Marmalades, Jellies,
Capped Biscuits, and all sorts of
sold down this entry,
read it as follows:—
Green Trees, Raw Sodgers, Mermaids, Jades.
Scabbed Bitches, and all sorts of
sold down this entry.
How to Escape Robbery.
A person extremely hard of hearing, travelling between
Paisley and Greenock on horseback, some time since, had
occasion to come off his horse, when the reins slipped from
among his fingers: the horse finding himself at liberty
immediately ran off. The deaf man quickly followed, determined
to inquire at all he met if they had seen his horse.
The night was very dark; however, he had not gone far till
he met with two men, whom he accosted with, "Did you see
a horse without a rider?" when he was immediately collared.
He thought it diversion; says he, "That's no a way to use a
man in the dark;" and endeavouring to shake himself clear,
when instead of slackening their hold they took fresh and
firmer holds, and no doubt used violent language, of which
his deafness deprived him of hearing; seeing all attempts to
get clear fruitless, and dreading they had nothing in
view but an intention to rob him, it instantly occurred to
him his having an ear trumpet sticking in the top of his
boot, which he used in conversation. He immediately pulled
it up, laid the muzzle of it across the fellow's arm, and
exclaimed, "If you don't let go your grups I'll blaw your
brains out in a moment!" They jumped over a hedge, and
were put of sight in an instant, the deaf man called after
them, "Set aff, set aff, my lads or I'll be the death o' baith o'
you, learn never to meddle wi' a man i' the dark, for ye
dinna ken what deadly weapons he carries."
Daft Will Speirs.
Will, one day, upon his journey to Eglinton Castle to pay
his regular daily visit, met his Lordship, who seemed not to
notice him. The Earl being only on a walk of pleasure
through his policies, soon came in contact with Will again
sitting at the bottom of a tree, picking a huge bone. "Ay,
ay;" says the Earl, "what this you've got noo, Will." "Ay,
ay," says Will, "anew o' frien's whan folk has ocht: ye gaed
by me awee sin' an' ne'er loot on ye saw me."
How to find Work.
A slater being employed by a gentleman to repair his
house in the country, took along with him a prentice, when
they set to work, and continued to work for some days. The
gentleman having no conception the job was to be of such
duration, came out one morning, and found the apprentice at
work alone, when he expressed himself as surprised at the
continuation of them working so long, and inquired what
had become of his master, to which the boy replied, "He's
awa to Glasgow to look for a job, and if he got ane, this ane
would be done the morn, and if he didna get ane, he didna
ken when it would be done."
A celebrated attendant upon the sheriff, well known for
his activity in the execution of his orders, as well as for
taking a bit comfortable guzzle when finances would afford
it, was one Sabbath day snugly seated in a pew behind the
bailies at church. Will had not been there long till he was
soon lulled into a sweet slumber, and found himself seated
along with his companions over a good imperial half-mutchkin;
and in a short time the reckoning came a-paying
when some of the party insisted it was already paid. However,
Will happened not to be of that opinion, and true to
his integrity, bawled out with all his might in the midst of
the sermon, "No, no, by my faith it's no pay't, we have had
just ae half-mutchkin, an' twa bottles o' ale, an' there's no a
fardin o't pay't."
Grave-Digger of Sorn.
The grave-digger of Sorn, Ayrshire, was as selfish and
as mean a sinner as ever handled mattock or carried
mortcloth. He was a very querulous and discontented old
man, with a voice like the whistle of the wind through
a key-hole. On a bleak Sunday afternoon in the country,
an acquaintance from a neighbouring parish accosted him
one day, and asked how the world was moving with him.
"Oh, very puirly, sir, very puirly indeed," was the answer,
"the yard has done nothing ava for us this summer,—if you
like to believe me I havena buriet a leevin' soul this sax
A parrot perched upon a pole at a cottage door, beaking
itself in the sun, was observed by a rapacious hawk, which
happened to be passing over it, suddenly dived down and
seized poor Poll by the back; away the hawk flew with his
prey. When passing over a garden Poll observed his old
friend the gardener, and exclaimed, "I'm ridin' noo, John
Laurie." Hawky alarmed at hearing a voice so near, darted
into a tree for safety, when after recovering a little, commenced
to devour poor Poll, when it roared out with all its
might, "Will you bite, you rascal." The hawk terrified
out of its wits, flew off with a birr, leaving Poll to proceed
homewards at pleasure.
The Restless Haggis.
Daft Will Callander lived with his sister Babie, in Port-Glasgow.
Babie kept a lodging-house for sailors. One
Saturday night Babie was making a Haggis for Sunday's
dinner, when one of her lodgers put four ounces of quick-silver
into the haggis unknown to Babie. On Sunday Will
was left at home to cook the dinner; but when the pot
began to boil, the haggis would be out of the pot. Will,
faithful to his charge, held the lid on the pot until his
patience was exhausted; at last Will ran off to the church
for Babie. She sat in one of the back pews. Will beckoned
to her two or three times; Babie as often nodded and winked
to Will to be quiet. At last he bawled out, "Babie, come
hame, for I believe the de'il's got into the haggis, it'll no
bide in the pat; it's out dancing on the floor, and if I had
not locked the door, I think it would have been at the kirk
as soon's mysel."
Expense of a Wife.
An old bachelor who lived in a very economical style, both
as regards food and clothing, and not altogether so very trig
as some bachelors sometimes appear, was frequently attacked
by his acquaintances on the propriety of taking a wife. He
was very smartly set upon one day, and told how snod a
wife would keep him, and many other fine things to induce
him to take a wife, and among the rest, what a comfort it
would be to him, if it was for naething else but to make his
parritch in the morning. Says he, "I dinna doubt but she
wad mak my parritch, but the plague is, she wad be fair to
sup the hauf o' them."
An Honest M'Gregor.
Donald M'Gregor, a notorious sheep-lifter (alias sheep-stealer),
in the north Highlands, being at last overtaken by
the grim tyrant of the human race, was visited by the
minister of the parish, whose appearance, however, was by
no means agreeable to Donald. The holy man warmly exhorted
the dying Highlander to reflect upon the long and
black catalogue of his sins, before it was too late, otherwise
he would have a tremendous account to give at the great
day of retribution, when all the crimes he had committed in
this world would appear in dreadful array, as evidence of his
guilt. "Och! sir," cries the dying man, "an' will a' the
sheeps an' the cows, an' ilka thing Tonal has helped hersel to,
be there?" "Undoubtedly," replied the parson. "Then let
ilka shentleman tak her nain, an' Tonal will be an honest
Negro and the Musquito.
A West Indian who had a remarkably fiery nose, having
fallen asleep in his chair, a negro boy who was waiting,
observed a musquito hovering round his face. Quasi eyed
the insect very attentively; at last he saw him alight on his
master's nose, and immediately fly off. "Ah! bless your
heart," exclaimed the negro, "me right glad see you burn
A Brush for the Barber.
A Highlander who sold brooms, went into a barber's shop
in Glasgow a few days since to get shaved. The barber
bought one of his brooms, and after having shaved him, asked
the price of it. "Twopence," said the Highlander. "No,
no," said the barber, "I'll give you a penny, if that does not
satisfy you take your broom again." The Highlander took
it, and asked what he had got to pay? "A penny," said strap.
"I'll gie you a bawbee," said Duncan, "an' if that dinna
satisfy ye, put on my beard again."
The Kellochsyde Grace.
The following is preserved traditionally as the grace of the
farmer of Kellochsyde, or Killocsyde, in Clydesdale:—"O
Lord, we'r ay gangan, an we'r ay gettan. We soud ay be
coman to thee, but we'r ay forgettan. We leive in the gude
mailen o' Kellochsyde, suppan thy gude peisie kale, puir
sinfou sons of evil that we are. Monie mercies we receive
gude trowth; and we're little thankfou for them, gude feth
Janet, rax by the spunes, and a' praise and glory sall be
New Method of Teaching Music.
A Highland piper having a scholar to teach, disdained to
crack his mind with the names of semibreves, minims,
crotchets, and quivers—"Here, Donald," said he, "tak your
pipies, lad, and gi's a blast—so, very weel blaun indeed; but
what is sound Donald without sense?—ye may blaw for
ever, without makin' a tune o't, if I dinna tell you how thae
queer things on the paper maun help you—you see that big
fellow wi' a round open face (pointing to a semibreve
between the two lines of the bar), he moves slowly, slowly,
from that line to this, while you beat ane wi' your fit, and
gi'e a blast: if now ye put a leg to him, ye mak' twa o' him
and he'll move twice as fast; gif ye black his face, he'll rin
four times faster than the fallow wi' the white face; but if,
after blackin' his face, ye'll bend his knee, or tie his legs,
he'll trop eight times faster than the white faced chap that
I showed you first. Now, whene'er you blaw your pipes,
Donald, remember this, the tighter the fallow's legs are tied,
the faster they will rin, and the quicker they are sure to
A Parson in the country taking his text in St. Matthew,
chapter viii. verse 14, "And Peter's wife's mother lay sick of
a fever," preached for three Sundays together on the same
subject. Soon after two fellows going across the churchyard,
and hearing the bell toll, one asked the other who it
was for. "Nay I can't tell; perhaps," replied he, "it's for
Peter's wife's mother, for she has been sick of a fever these
Distinction of Sons and Daughters.
About the year thretty-sax, a company differed "Whether
it was better for a man to ha'e sons or dochters." They
could not 'gree, but disputed it pro and con. At last one of
them said to Graham of Kinross (wha hadna yoked wi' them
in the argument), "Laird, what's your opinion?" Quo' he,
"I had three lads and three lassies; I watna whilk o' them
I liked best say lang as they sucket their mither; but de'll
ha'e my share o' the callants when they cam to suck their
Patrimony and Matrimony.
At an examination of a school in Edinburgh, a gentleman
asked one of the scholars by what name they called property
that descended from a father? "Patrimony," answered the
scholar; "And what do you call it when descended from a
mother?" "Matrimony," was the reply.
An Officer's Wife.
One of the town's officers of Ayr was struck severely by
accident on the head by his wife. After the fray was adjusted,
the wife said to her husband, "Henry, had I killed
you, and I been hanged for it, would you marry Kate
Highlander and Parrot.
An honest Highlander walking along Holborn, heard a cry,
"Rogue Scot, Rogue Scot." His northern blood fired at the
insult, drew his broad sword, looking round him on every
side to discover the object of indignation. At last he found
it came from a parrot, perched on a balcony within his
reach, but the generous Scot disdaining to stain his trusty
blade with such ignoble blood, put up his sword again, with
a sour smile, saying, "Gin ye were a man, as ye're a green
geese, I would split your weem."
An Irishman one day was walking on the streets of Belfast,
found a light guinea, and got 18s. for it. Next day he was
walking, and sees another, and says, "Allelieu, dear honey,
I'll have nothing to do with you, for I lost 3s. by your
In a party of ladies, on it being reported that a Captain
Silk had arrived in town, they exclaimed, with one exception,
"What a name for a soldier!" "The fittest name in the
world," replied a witty female, "for Silk can never be
A Clever Son.
A Farmer's son, who had been some time at the university,
came home to visit his father and mother; and being one
night with the old folks at supper on a couple of fowls, he
told them, that by the rules of logic and arithmetic, he
could prove these two fowls to be three. "Well, let us
hear," said the old man. "Why, this," said the scholar, "is
one and this," continued he, "is two; two and one, you
know, make three." "Since you ha'e made it out sae weel,"
answered the old man, "your mother shall ha'e the first
fowl, I'll ha'e the second, and the third you may keep to
Breaking the Commandments.
A Clergyman who wished to know whether the children of
the parishioners understood their Bibles, asked a lad that he
one day found reading the Old Testament, who was the
wickedest man? "Moses, to be sure," said the boy.
"Moses!" exclaimed the parson, "how can that be?"
"Why," said the lad, "because he broke all the commandments
Not Lost but Drowned.
A Leith merchant being on his usual ride to the south,
came to the ford of a dark river, at the side of which a boy
was diverting himself. The traveller addressed him as
follows:—"Is this water deep?" "Ay, gaen deep," answered
the boy. "Is there ever any person lost here?" "No,"
replied the boy, "there was never any lost; there has been
some drowned, but we aye get them again."
A Just Remark.
A certain son of St. Crispian, who resides in Paisley, lifting
up his four cornered hat the other morning in a hurry,
found it filled with his wife's fal-de-ral-lals; in a fit of
wrath he exclaimed "Gudesake, Janet, what the de'il gars
you stap a' the trash in the house intil a body's hat."
"Trash, indeed!" exclaimed the indignant spouse, "stap it
on your ain head, and the biggest trash in the house'll be
Scotchman and Irishman.
A Scotchman and an Irishman were sleeping at an inn
together. The weather being rather warm, the Scotchman
in his sleep put his leg out of the bed. A traveller, in passing
the room door, saw him in this situation, and having a
mind for a frolic, gently fixed a spur upon Sawney's heel;
who drawing his leg into the bed, so disturbed his companion,
that he exclaimed, "Arrah, honey, have a care of your
great toe, for you have forgot to cut your nails I belaiv."
The Scotchman being sound asleep, and sometimes, perhaps,
not a little disturbed by other companies, still kept scratching
poor Pat, till his patience being quite spent, he succeeded
in rousing Sawney, who, not a little surprised at finding
the spur on his heel, loudly exclaimed, "De'il tak' the daft
chiel of a hostler, he's ta'en my boots aff last night and left
on the spur."
A person who resides in the ancient town of Kilwinning, was
proverbial for his liberality in meat and drink to friends and
acquaintances. Strangers, too, seldom passed without experiencing
a due share of kindness. Lately while feasting
nearly a dozen of random visitors on "Pat Luck," a beggar
called at the door soliciting charity, when he very good
humouredly called out, "I canna help you the day, I ha'e
plenty o' your kin' here already."
Shooting the Devil.
A Scotch parson preaching upon these words, "Resist the
devil, and he will fly from you," began thus:—"My beloved,
you are all here to-day, but wot ye who is among ye, even
the meikle horned devil. You cannot see him, but by the
eye of faith I see him. But some of you say, what will we
do with him now we have him here? How shall we destroy
him? We will hang him. Alas, my beloved, there are not
so many tows in the parish as will hang him, he is as light
as a feather. Then some of you will say we will drown
him. Humph, my beloved, there is owre muckle cork in
his leg, he's as souple as an eel, he will not sink. Others of
you will say, we will burn him. Na, na, sirs, you may scald
yourselves, but you canna burn him, for a' the fire in Hades
could never yet singe a hair o' his tail. Now, sirs, ye canna
find a way among you all to kill him, but I will find
it. What way will this be, sirs? We will even shoot
him. Wherewith shall we shoot him? We shall shoot
him with the Bible. Now, sirs, I shall shoot him presently."
So, presenting the Bible, as soldiers do their muskets, he
cries out, "Toot! toot! toot! Now he is shot. There
lies the foul thief as dead as a herring."
Soon after the battle of Preston, two Highlanders, in roaming
through the south of Mid-Lothian, entered the farm house
of Swanston, near the Pentland Hills, where they found no
one at home but an old woman. They immediately proceeded
to search the house, and soon finding a web of coarse
home-spun cloth, made no scruple to unroll and cut off as
much as they thought would make a coat to each. The
woman was exceedingly incensed at their rapacity, roared
and cried, and even had the hardihood to invoke divine
vengeance upon their heads. "Ye villains!" she cried,
"ye'll ha'e to account for this yet." "And when will we
pe account for't?" asked one of the Highlanders. "At the
last day, ye blackguards!" exclaimed the woman. "Ta
last day," replied the Highlander; "Tat be coot lang chredit-we'll
e'en pe tak a waistcoat too!" at the same time
cutting off a few additional yards of the cloth.
The mother of a respectable grocer in a town in the west,
called her son to her, while on her death bed, and declared
to him that his reputed father was not really his father; but
that such a one (naming him) really was his father; and
that the deed was done one night when travelling from
Greenock, when at the Clun-Brae-Head. This story got
wing, and ran through the town like wildfire, and was a fine
source of amusement for some time. One day a boy vulgarly
named the "Linty," went into the said grocer's shop to purchase
some article, when he was assailed with "Weel Linty,
whar is'tu gaun to big thy nest the year?" The boy
replied, "I was thinkin' to big it doon about the Clun-Brae-Head."
A cunning carle invested with the semi-sacred office of
"Ruling Elder," or practically seemingly identified with
that office, in order to gratify an inclination, scratched wi'
the neb o' a fork the figure 10 on the one side of his outer
door, and figure 11 on the other; by which plan he was able
to say wi' "a good conscience," at a' times, and on a'
occasions, that he came aye hame atween ten and eleven.
A few Scotch and English travellers being met together,
an Englishman took it upon him to run down the Thistle,
exclaimed against the empty boast of its motto, "Nemo me
impune lacessit," when a Scotchman present observed,
"The Thistle, sir, is the pride of the Scotish nation, but it
is nothing in the mouth of an ass."
In the west of Scotland, some time ago, there happened to
be an auction of books. A book-buyer who attended the
sale, was summoned by his son to supper, according to the
directions of his mother. The boy flurried by the presence
of the audience, and in his attempt to be as explicit as
possible, thus cried out, "Fayther, yer parritch is ready."
"Very well, my dear," said the father, and at the door gave
him a salute a posteriori, which was repeated with the following
injunction—"Recollect rascal, when you come again, to
say a gentleman wants me." Next evening up comes the
boy according to direction. "Is my Fayther here?" "Yes,"
said the father. "A gentleman wants ye." "Very
well, my man," was repeated by the boy's parent; but little
time elapsed when the boy returned; "What now, my
man," said the old book worm. "Oh naething," said his
son, "but gin ye dinna rin fast the gentleman will be quite
Dougal Graham, author of the well-known metrical history
of the rebellion in 1745, being candidate for the place of
town bellman in the City of Glasgow, was desired to call
"Gude fresh herrings new come in at the Broomielaw." It
not being the season for herrings, Dougal added,
"But, indeed, my friends, it's a blaeflum,
"For the herrings no catch'd, and the boats no come,"
which procured for Dougal the situation.
Dougal was a kind of Scotch Æsop, he had a large humph
on one of his shoulders, and like his patrotype had wit.
Calling in the street of the Gallowgate, opposite the Saracen's
Head Inn, where several officers of the gallant 42d regiment
were dining, at the close of the American war, some of whom
knew Dougal before they went abroad, opening the window,
called out, "What's that you've got on your back, Dougal?"
Knowing what the regiment suffered at Bunker's Hill,
Dougal replied, "It's Bunker's Hill; do you choose to
A New Way to Wauken Sleepers in Church.
Mr. Ogilvie, minister of the parish of Lunan in the county
of Forfar, had a great deal of eccentricity in his composition.
One Sunday an old woman, who kept a public-house in the
parish, with whom Mr. Ogilvie was well acquainted, fell
asleep in the church during sermon—not an uncommon
occurrence. Her neighbour kept jogging in order to awake
her. Mr. Ogilvie observing this, cried out, "Let her alane,
I'll wauken her mysel', I'll warrant ye." "Phew! Phew!
(whistling) a bottle o' ale and a dram, Janet." "Comin',
sir," was instantly replied. "There now," says the minister,
"I tald ye it wadna be lang afore I waken'd her."
A labouring Highlandman, who lived in the upper parts of
Perthshire, whose wife was taken in labour, wished him to
retire out of the house. Janet says to him—"Oh! you be
gang awa', Duncan, gang awa'!" The man, however, kept
loitering about the door, seemingly impressed with something
of great importance. At last he cries to his wife,
"You speak a me, Shanet! you speak a me." The wife asks,
"What you say, Duncan?" "Gie the cummer (the midwife)
a dram, Shanet, gie the cummer a dram!" "What
for Duncan?" "Gie the cummer a dram, Shanet, an' tell
him to make her a laddie."
The Purse and the Penny Siller.
Three young Highlanders, some years ago, set out from
their native hills, to seek a livelihood amongst their countrymen
in the Lowlands. They had hardly learned any English.
One of them could say, "We three Highlandmen;" the
second, "For the purse and the penny siller;" and the third
had properly learned, "And our just right too;" intending
thus to explain the motives o' their journey. They trudged
along, when, in a lonely glen, they saw the body of a man
who had been recently murdered. The Highlanders stopped
to deplore the fate of the unhappy mortal, when a gentleman
with his servant came up to the spot. "Who murdered this
poor man?" said the gentleman, "We three Highlandmen,"
answered the eldest of the brothers (thinking the gentleman
inquired who they were). "What could induce you to commit
so horrid a crime?" continued the gentleman. "The
Purse and the Penny Siller," replied the second of the
travellers. "You shall be hanged, you miscreants!" "And
our just right too," returned the third. The poor men were thus
brought to the gallows on their own evidence, and presumption
Lump of Old Wood.
An aged man, named Thomas Wood, sitting on a high three-footed
stool in the gallery of the old Church of Falkirk,
during divine service happened to fall asleep, tumbled on
the floor with a great noise. The preacher stopped and
demanded the reason of the noise. "Nothing, sir," cries a
wag, "but a lump of Old Wood fallen down."
The Great Want.
A female pauper lately made a very strong and forcible
appeal to the elders and heritors of a certain parish, for an
advance of 4s. 6d. Some one of the grave quorum inquired
what made her so urgent on this occasion, when she had
lately got a supply of coals, shoes, etc. To this she replied,
"Why, deed, sirs, it's just to buy a pair o' corsets to my
daughter Tibbie, ilk lass that's ocht respectable has them but
hersel', so ye see she canna do wantin them, an' ye maun
e'en let me ha't sirs."
The Devil Defined.
The Rev. Mr. Shirra, burgher minister in Kirkcaldy, once
gave the following curious definition of the devil:—"The
devil, my brethren, is ill ony way ye'll tak him. Tak' the
D from his name, he's evil; tak' the E from his name, he's
vil; tak' the V from his name, he's il;" then shrugging up
his shoulders, and lengthening his sanctified snout, he said
with peculiar emphasis, "He's naething but an il, vil, evil,
Devil, ony way ye'll tak' him!"
Mark me Well.
A gentleman having missed his way, fortunately met a boy
going with a pot of tar to mark his master's sheep, asked
the road to Banff, but was directing by so many turnings,
right and left, that he agreed to take the boy behind him on
the horse as he was going near to the same place. Finding
the boy pert and docile, he gave him some wholesome
advice relative to his future conduct, adding occasionally,
"Mark me well, my boy." "Yes, sir, I do." He repeated
the injunction so often, that the boy at last cried out, "Sir,
I have no more tar!"
Death of a Watch.
After the battle of Falkirk, in 1746, a Highlandman was
observed extracting a gold watch from the fob of an English
officer, who had been killed. His comrade viewed him with
a greedy eye, which the man taking notice of said to him,
"Tamn you gapin' greedy bitch, gang and shoot a shentleman
for hersel', an' no envie me o' my pit watch."
Next morning finding his watch motionless, and meeting
his comrade, says to him, "Och! she no be care muckle
about a watch, an' you be like mine, what will ye gi'e me for
her?" The other replied, "I be venture a kinny." "Weel
then," said the other, "Shust tak her, an' welcome, for she be
die yester night."
Our Lawful Sovereign.
An English Officer Dining With Lord Saltoon Some Years After
the Battle of Culloden, his Lordship was adverting to the
strong attachment manifested by the generality of Buchan
to the unfortunate house of Stuart, and particularly remarked
the devoted loyalty of his gardener, whom no bribe or entreaty
could in the smallest degree influence. "I'll bet 50
guineas," said the Englishman, "that I shall make him
drink the health of King George." "Done!" replied his
Lordship. The honest gardener was called in. The officer
began by praising his fidelity and loyalty to his prince;
pressed him to drink some glasses of wine; and when he
thought him a little off his guard from the effects of the
generous liquor, he began thus:—"Now, my friend, I know
you are a good Christian and wish well to every human
being; you can certainly have no objection to drink the
health of King George? Come, my worthy fellow, a bumper
to the health of his Majesty." "Here's to the health of our
lawful Sovereign," said the gardener. "Bless you, sir,"
cried the officer, "That's not King George?" "I am very
much of your opinion," replied the man, making a profound
bow and retiring.
Down the Rotten Row.
A few years ago, when resurrectionists throughout the
country were become very common, a person of respectability
was interred in the High Church burying ground of
Glasgow. The relatives who were persons of property, hired
a few hungry weavers, who generally at that time were
atomies ready made, to watch the grave of their deceased
relative; these, as they were one night on duty, perceived
some persons enter, the churchyard; they kept snug till such
time as they could learn the object of their visit. It was not
long before the intruders opened a grave, took out the corpse,
put it into a sack and left it at the grave, and went in search
of something else. One of the weavers, a droll fellow, said
to his comrade, "Take out the corpse, and I'll go into the
sack, but do you observe the proceedings." In a little time
the resurrection men returned, and one of them getting the
sack upon his back marched off. When they got to the
street, the one says to the other, "Which way will we
take?" When the weaver putting out his hand and gripping
the fellow who was carrying him, by the hair, bawled out,
"Down the Rotten Raw, ye beggar." He was soon set down,
and the man who carried him went mad of the fright.
Some years ago, a poor boy, whose mother was buried in the
churchyard of Falkirk, used frequently to sit on her grave,
and when destitute of other accommodation, would crawl in
below one of the gravestones, and slept there for the night.
On one of these occasions, the boy was roused from his sleep
by the noise of some voices in the churchyard. This was
nothing more than a couple of resurrection men who had come
on purpose to begin that great work rather prematurely;
and as those who are raised before their due time cannot
be supposed capable of standing on their legs, they had provided
themselves with a horse to gi'e them a lift. They
were then disputing about how they could secure the beast,
while they were raising the corpse. The lad hearing this,
and creeping out of his hole, cries, "I'll haud him," expecting
some remuneration no doubt. The fellows seeing a resurrection
commencing from under a stone, and hearing the offer of
holding the horse, scampered off and left the animal, with a
couple of sacks; and although the horse and sacks were
advertised, they were never claimed, but sold for the benefit
of the boy, which procured him better lodging than beneath
a grave stone.
March of Intellect.
Two country carters, passing the entrance to the Arcade,
Argyle Street, Glasgow, observed painted on the wall, "No
dogs to enter here." "No dogs to enter here!" exclaimed
one of them, "I'm sure there's no use for that there." "What
way, Jock," replied the other. "'Cause dogs canna read
signs," said he. "Ha, ha, Jock, ye're maybe wrang, I'se
warran ye gentle folks' dogs 'ill ken't brawly, for there's
schools, noo, whar they learn the dumb baith to read and