Objecting to Scotch "Tarmes"
In early times a Scotch laird had much difficulty (as many worthy lairds have still) in meeting the claims of those two woful periods of the year called in Scotland the "tarmes." He had been employing for some time, as workman, a stranger from the south, on some house repairs. The workman rejoiced in the not uncommon name in England of "Christmas." The laird's servant, early one morning, called out at his bedroom door, in great excitement, that "Christmas had run away, and nobody knew where he had gone." He turned in his bed with the earnest ejaculation, "I only wish he had taken Whitsunday and Martinmas along with him."
A Patient Lady
The Rev. John Brown, of Haddington, the well-known author of the "Self-Interpreting Bible," was a man of singular bashfulness. In proof of the truth of this statement I need only state that his courtship lasted seven years. Six years and a half had passed away, and the reverend gentleman had got no further than he had been the first six days. This state of things became intolerable, a step in advance must be made, and Mr. Brown summoned all his courage for the deed. "Janet," said he one day, as they sat in solemn silence, "we've been acquainted now six years an' mair, and I've ne'er gotten a kiss yet. D'ye think I might take one, my bonny lass?" "Just as you like, John; only be becoming and proper wi' it." "Surely, Janet; we'll ask a blessing." The blessing was asked, the kiss was taken, and the worthy divine, perfectly overpowered with the blissful sensation, most rapturously exclaimed, "Heigh! lass, but it is gude. We'll return thanks." Six months after, the pious pair were made one flesh, and, added his descendant, who humorously told the tale, "a happier couple never spent a long and useful life together." [9]
Curious Pulpit Notice
John Brown, Burgher minister at Whitburn (son of the commentator, and father of the late Rev. Dr. John Brown, of Edinburgh, and grandfather of the accomplished M.D. of the same name), in the early part of the century was traveling on a small sheltie (a Shetland pony) to attend the summer sacrament at Haddington. Between Musselburgh and Tranent he overtook one of his own people.
"What are ye daein' here, Janet, and whaur ye gaun in this warm weather?"
"'Deed, sir," quoth Janet, "I'm gaun to Haddington for the occasion (the Lord's Supper), an' expeck to hear ye preach this afternoon."
"Very weel, Janet, but whaur ye gaun to sleep?"
"I dinna ken, sir, but providence is aye kind, an'll provide a bed."
On Mr. Brown jogged, but kindly thought of his humble follower; accordingly, after service in the afternoon, before pronouncing the blessing, he said from the pulpit, "Whaur's the auld wife that followed me frae Whitburn?"
"Here I'm, sir," uttered a shrill voice from a back seat.
"Aweel," said Mr. Brown; "I have fand ye a bed; ye're to sleep wi' Johnnie Fife's lass."
"Wishes Never Filled the Bag"
There are always pointed anecdotes against houses wanting in a liberal and hospitable expenditure in Scotland. Thus, we have heard of a master leaving such a mansion, and taxing his servant with being drunk, which he had too often been after country visits. On this occasion, however, he was innocent of the charge, for he had not the opportunity to transgress. So, when his master asserted, "Jemmy, you are drunk!" Jemmy very quietly answered, "Indeed, sir, I wish I wur."
Not Used to It
On one occasion an eccentric Scotchman, having business with the late Duke of Hamilton at Hamilton Palace, the Duke politely asked him to lunch. A liveried servant waited upon them, and was most assiduous in his attentions to the duke and his guest. At last our eccentric friend lost patience, and looking at the servant, addressed him thus: "What the deil for are ye dance, dance, dancing about the room that gait; can ye no' draw in your chair and sit down? I'm sure there's plenty on the table for three." [7]
"Effectual Calling"
Maitland, the Jacobite historian of Edinburgh, relates with infinite zest the following anecdote of the Rev. Robert Bruce, the zealous Presbyterian minister who boldly bearded King James I: "1589, August 15. – Robert Bruce, one of the four ministers of Edinburgh, threatening to leave the town" (the reason from what follows, may be easily guessed at), "great endeavors were used to prevent his going; but none, it seems, so prevalent as that of the increase of his stipend to one thousand merks, which the good man was graciously pleased to accept, though it only amounted to one hundred and forty merks more than all the stipends of the other three ministers."
Motive for Church-Going
An old man, who for years walked every Sunday from Newhaven to Edinburgh to attend the late Dr. Jones' church, was one day complimented by that venerable clergyman for the regularity of his appearance in church. The old man unconsciously evinced how little he deserved the compliment by this reply: "'Deed, sir, its very true; but I like to hear the jingling o' the bells and see a' the braw folk." [9]
"Grace" with No Meat After
A little girl of eight years of age was taken by her grandmother to church. The parish minister was not only a long preacher, but, as the custom was, delivered two sermons on the Sabbath day without any interval, and thus save the parishioners the two journeys to church. Elizabeth was sufficiently wearied before the close of the first discourse; but when, after singing and prayer, the good minister opened the Bible, read a second text, and prepared to give a second sermon, the young girl being both tired and hungry, lost all patience, and cried out to her grandmother, to the no small amusement of those who were so near as to hear her, "Come awa', Granny, and gang home; this is a lang grace, and nae meat." [7]
"No Better than Pharaoh"
In a town of one of the central counties a Mr. J – carried on, about a century ago, a very extensive business in the linen manufacture. Although strikes were then unknown among the laboring classes, the spirit from which these take their rise has no doubt at all times existed. Among Mr. J – 's many workmen, one had given him constant annoyance for years, from his argumentative spirit. Insisting one day on getting something or other which his master thought most unreasonable, and refused to give in to, he at last submitted, with a bad grace, saying, "You're nae better than Pharaoh, sir, forcin' puir folks to mak' bricks without straw." "Well, Saunders," quietly rejoined his master, "if I'm nae better than Pharaoh, in one respect, I'll be better in another, for I'll no' hinder ye going to the wilderness whenever ye choose."
Not One of "The Establishment"
At an hotel in Glasgow, a gentleman, finding that the person who acted as a waiter could not give him certain information which he wanted, put the question, "Do you belong to the establishment?" to which James replied, "No, sir; I belong to the Free Kirk."
A Board-School Examiner Floored
The parish minister in a town not a hundred miles from Dumfermline, Fifeshire, was recently going his round of all the board schools in the course of systematic examination. The day was warm, and the minister, feeling exhausted on reaching the school, took a seat for a few minutes to cool down and recover his breath; but even while doing so he thought he might as well utilize the time in a congenial sort of way, being naturally a bit of a wag. So he addressed the boys thus: "Well, lads, can any of you tell me why black sheep eat less than white sheep?"
There was no answer to this question, and the minister, after telling them it was because there were fewer of them, with pretended severity said he was sorry to see them in such a state of ignorance as not to be able to answer such a simple question, but he would give them another.
"Can any of you lads tell me what bishop of the Church of England has the largest hat?"
Here the children were again cornered for a solution.
"What! don't you know," said the minister, "that the bishop with the largest hat is the bishop with the largest head? But seeing I have been giving you some puzzling questions, I will now allow you to have your turn and put some questions to me, to see if I can answer them."
Silence fell upon the whole school. No one was apparently bold enough to tackle the minister. At length, from the far corner of the room, a little chap of about seven years got to his feet, and with an audacity that actually appalled the master, cried out in a loud, shrill, piping voice, with the utmost sang froid:
"Can you tell me why millers wear white caps?"
The minister was perfectly astounded, and for the life of him could find no solution of the problem.
He began to feel somewhat uncomfortable, while the master frowned with awful threatening in his glance at the undaunted young culprit, who stood calmly waiting a reply to his poser.
"No, my boy," said the minister at length; "I cannot tell why millers wear white caps. What is the reason?"
"Weel, sir," replied the young shaver, "millers wear white caps just to cover their heads."
It is needless to remark that the roar which followed rather disconcerted the minister, and he had some difficulty afterwards in proceeding with his official examination.
Keeping His Threat – at His Own Expense
An examiner at the Edinburgh University had made himself obnoxious by warning the students against putting hats on the desk. The university in the Scottish capital is (or was) remarkable for a scarcity of cloak rooms, and in the excitement of examination hats are, or used to be, flung down anywhere. The examiner announced one day that if he found another hat on his desk he would "rip it up."
The next day no hats were laid there when the students assembled. Presently, however, the examiner was called out of the room. Then some naughty undergraduate slipped from his seat, got the examiner's hat, and placed it on the desk. When the examiner re-entered the hall every eye was fixed upon him. He observed the hat, and a gleam of triumph shot across his face.
"Gentlemen," he continued, "I told you what would happen if this occurred again."
Then he took his penknife from his pocket, opened it, and blandly cut the hat in pieces amidst prolonged applause.
New Style of Riding in a Funeral Procession
The following anecdote is an amusing illustration of the working of a defective brain, in a half-witted carle, who used to range the county of Galloway, armed with a huge pike-staff, and who one day met a funeral procession a few miles from Wigtown.
A long train of carriages, and farmers on horseback, suggested the propriety of his bestriding his staff, and following after the funeral. The procession marched at a brisk pace, and on reaching the kirkyard stile, as each rider dismounted, "Daft Jock" descended from his wooden steed, besmeared with mire and perspiration, exclaiming, "Heck, sirs, had it no' been for the fashion o' the thing, I micht as well hae been on my ain feet." [7]
Absence of Humor – Illustrated
Few amusements in the world are funnier than the play of different ideas under similar sounds, and it would be hard to find a thing more universally understood and caught at than a pun; but there really are individuals so made that a word can mean but one thing to them, and even metaphors must go on all-fours. Lord Morpeth used to tell of a Scotch friend of his who, to the remark that some people could not feel a jest unless it was fired at them with a cannon, replied: "Weel, but how can ye fire a jest out of a cannon, man?"
The Best Time to Quarrel
In Lanarkshire, there lived a sma' laird named Hamilton, who was noted for his eccentricity. On one occasion, a neighbor waited on him, and requested his name as an accommodation to a bill for twenty pounds at three months date, which led to the following characteristic and truly Scottish colloquy:
"Na, na, I canna do that."
"What for no', laird? Ye hae dune the same thing for ithers."
"Ay, ay, Tammas, but there's wheels within wheels ye ken naething about; I canna do't."
"It's a sma' affair to refuse me, laird."
"Weel, ye see, Tammas, if I was to pit my name till't ye wad get the siller frae the bank, and when the time came round, ye wadna be ready, and I wad hae to pay't; sae then you and me wad quarrel; sae we mae just as weel quarrel the noo, as lang's the siller's in ma pouch."
The Horse That Kept His Promise
A laird sold a horse to an Englishman, saying, "You buy him as you see him; but he's an honest beast." The purchaser took him home. In a few days he stumbled and fell, to the damage of his own knees and his rider's head. On this the angry purchaser remonstrated with the laird, whose reply was, "Weel, sir, I told ye he was an honest beast; many a time has he threatened to come down with me, and I kenned he would keep his word some day."
A "Grand" Piano
At Glasgow, in a private house, Dr. Von Bulow, having been asked by his hostess what he thought of her piano, replied in these words: "Madam, your piano leaves something to be desired. It needs new strings," he added, in answer to the lady's inquiries as to what it really required. "The hammers, too, want new leather," he continued; "and, while you are about it, with the new leather, you may as well have new wood. Then, when the inside of your piano has been completely renovated," he concluded, having now worked himself into a rage, "call in two strong men, throw it out of the window, and burn it in the street."
Scottish Patriotism
It is more common in Scotland than in England to find national feeling breaking out in national humor upon great events connected with national history. The following is perhaps as good as any: The Rev. Robert Scott, a Scotchman, who forgot not Scotland in his southern vicarage, tells me that at Inverary, some thirty years ago, he could not help overhearing the conversation of some Lowland cattle-dealers in the public room in which he was. The subject of the bravery of our navy being started, one of the interlocutors expressed his surprise that Nelson should have issued his signal at Trafalgar in the terms, "England expects," etc. He was met with the answer (which seemed highly satisfactory to the rest), "Ay, Nelson only said 'expects' of the English; he said nothing of Scotland, for he kent the Scotch would do theirs."
"Purpose" – not "Performance" – Heaven's Standard
The following occurred between a laird and an elder: A certain laird in Fife, well known for his parsimonious habits, whilst his substance largely increased did not increase his liberality, and his weekly contribution to the church collection never exceeded the sum of one penny. One day, however, by mistake he dropped into the plate at the door a five-shilling piece, but discovering his error before he was seated in his pew, hurried back, and was about to replace the crown by his customary penny, when the elder in attendance cried out, "Stop, laird; ye may put in what ye like, but ye maun tak' naething out!" The laird, finding his explanations went for nothing, at last said, "Aweel, I suppose I'll get credit for it in heaven." "Na, na, laird," said the elder, "ye'll only get credit for a penny."
The Book Worms
Robert Burns once met with a copy of Shakespeare in a nobleman's library, the text of which had been neglected and had become worm-eaten. It was beautifully bound. Burns at once wrote the following lines:
Through and through the inspired leaves,
Ye maggots, make your windings;
But oh! respect his lordship's tastes,
And spare his golden bindings. [2]
"Uncertainty of Life" from Two Good Points of View
"Ah, sir," said a gloomy-looking minister of the Scotch Kirk, addressing a stranger who was standing on the bridge of the Lord of the Isles, as she steamed through the Kyles of Bute, "does the thought ever occur to ye of the great oncertainty of life?"
"Indeed it does," returned the stranger, briskly, "many times a day."
"And have you ever reflected, sir," went on the minister, "that we may be launched into eternity at any instant?"
"Yes," returned the stranger, "I have thought of that, and said it, too, thousands of times."
"Indeed," ejaculated the parson; "then it is possible I am speaking to a brother meenister?"
"Well, no," answered the other promptly, "you are not. If you must know, I am traveling agent of the Royal Lynx Life Assurance Association; and, if you are not assured, I can strongly recommend you to give our office a turn. You will find special terms for ministers in Table K of our prospectus"; and handing the astonished divine a printed leaflet from his satchel, he left him without another word.
Providing a Mouthful for the Cow
Old Maggie Dee had fully her share of Scotch prudence and economy. One bonnet had served her turn for upwards of a dozen years, and some young ladies who lived in the neighborhood, in offering to make and present her with a new one, asked whether she would prefer silk or straw as material.
"Weel, my lassies," said Maggie, after mature deliberation, "since ye insist on giein' me a bonnet, I think I'll tak' a strae ane; it will, maybe, juist be a mou'fu' to the coo when I'm through wi't."
A Poor Place for a Cadger
An English traveler had gone on a fine Highland road so long, without having seen an indication of fellow-travelers, that he became astonished at the solitude of the country; and no doubt before the Highlands were so much frequented as they are in our time, the roads had a very striking aspect of solitariness. Our traveler at last coming up to an old man breaking stones, he asked him if there was any traffic on this road – was it at all frequented?
"Ay," he said, "it's no' ill at that; there was a cadger body yestreen, and there's yoursell the day."
The Kirk of Lamington
As cauld a wind as ever blew,
A caulder kirk, and in't but few;
As cauld a minister's e'er spak',
Ye'se a' be het ere I come back. [2]
"Lost Labor"
One of Dr. Macknight's parishioners, a humorous blacksmith, who thought his pastor's writing of learned books was a sad waste of time, being asked if the doctor was at home, answered: "Na, na; he's awa to Edinbro' on a foolish job."
The doctor had gone off to the printer's with his laborious and valuable work, "The Harmony of the Four Gospels." On being further asked what this useless work might be which engaged a minister's time and attention, the blacksmith replied: "He's gane to mak' four men agree wha never cast (fell) out."
A New Story Book – at the Time
Sir Walter Scott once stated that he kept a Lowland laird waiting for him in the library at Abbotsford, and that when he came in he found the laird deep in a book which Sir Walter perceived to be Johnson's Dictionary.
"Well, Mr. – ," said Sir Walter, "how do you like your book?"
"They're vera pretty stories, Sir Walter," replied the laird, "but they're unco' short."
Will Any Gentleman Oblige "a Lady"?
In a tramway car at Glasgow, one wet afternoon, a woman of fifty – made up to look as nearly like twenty-five as possible – got on board at a crossing, to find every seat occupied. She stood for a moment, and then selecting a poorly dressed man of about forty years of age, she observed: "Are there no gentlemen on the car?"
"I dinna ken," he replied, as he looked up and down. "If there's nane, I'll hunt up one for you at the end of the line."
There was an embarrasing silence for a moment, and then a light broke in on him all of a sudden, and he rose and said: "But ye can hae this seat: I'm aye wellin' to stan' and gi'e my seat to an auld bodie."
That decided her. She gave him a look which he will not forget till his dying day, and grasping the strap she refused to sit down, even when five seats had become vacant.
Ham and Cheese
On one occasion the late Rev. Walter Dunlop, of the U.P. Church, Dumfries, after a hard day's labor, and while at "denner-tea," as he called it, kept incessantly praising the "haam," and stating that "Mrs. Dunlop at hame was as fond o' haam like that as he was," when the mistress kindly offered to send her the present of a ham.
"It's unco' kin' o' ye, unco' kin' – but I'll no' pit ye to the trouble; I'll just tak' it hame on the horse afore me."
When, on leaving, he mounted, and the ham was put into the sack, some difficulty was experienced in getting it to lie properly. His inventive genius soon cut the Gordian-knot.
"I think, mistress, a cheese in the ither en' would mak' a gran' balance."
The hint was immediately acted on, and, like another John Gilpin, he moved away with his "balance true." [7]