Driving the Deevil Out
A Scotch minister, named Downes, settled in a rural district in the north of Ireland, where the people are more Scotch in language and manners than in the land o' cakes itself. One evening he and a brother divine set out together to take part in some religious service.
Meeting one of his parishioners on the way, the latter quaintly observed, "Weel, Mr. Downes, you clergymen 'ill drive the deevil oot o' the country the nicht!"
"Yes," replied the minister, "we will. I see you are making your escape."
Tommy did not use the deevil's name in his pastor's presence again.
Mental Aberration
In Lanarkshire, Scotland, there lived, about fifty years ago, a poor crazy man, by name Will Shooler. Will was a regular attendant of the parish church in the town, on the ceiling of which there was, for ornament, a dove with outstretched wings. One Sabbath day, Will grew rather tired of the sermon, and throwing his arms and head back, he saw the dove, and exclaimed, "O Lord! what a big hen!"
Sunday Shaving and Milking
On first going to Ross-shire to visit and preach for my friend Mr. Carment, I asked him on the Saturday evening before retiring to rest whether I would get warm water in the morning. Whereupon he held up a warning hand, saying: "Whist, whist!"
On my looking and expressing astonishment, he said, with a twinkle in his eye, "Speak of shaving on the Lord's day in Ross-shire, and you never need preach here more!"
In that same county Sir Kenneth Mackenzie directed my attention to a servant-girl, who, if not less scrupulous, was more logical in her practice. She astonished her master, one of Sir Kenneth's tenants, by refusing to feed the cows on the Sabbath. She was ready to milk, but by no means feed them – and her defence shows that though a fanatic, she was not a fool.
"The cows," she said – drawing a nice metaphysical distinction between what are not and what are works of necessity and mercy that would have done honor to a casuist – "the cows canna milk themselves; so to milk them is clear work of necessity and mercy; but let them out to the fields, and they'll feed themselves." Here certainly was scrupulosity; but the error was one that leaned to the right side. [15]
A Typical Quarrel
The story of the happy young couple who quarreled on the first day of their housekeeping life about the "rat" or the "mouse" which ran out of the fireplace, it seems, had its origin "long time ago" in the incident thus done into rhyme. The last verse explains the mysterious mistake:
John Davidson, and Tib his wife,
Sat toastin' their taes ae nicht,
When something startit in the fluir
And blinkit by their sicht.
"Guidwife," quoth John, "did you see that moose?
Whar sorra was the cat?"
"A moose?" – "Ay, a moose." – "Na, na, guidman,
It wasna a moose! 'twas a rat."
"Ow, ow, guidwife, to think ye've been
Sae lang aboot the hoose,
An' no' to ken a moose frae a rat!
Yan wasna a rat! 'twas a moose!"
"I've seen mair mice than you, guidman —
An' what think ye o' that?
Sae haud your tongue, an' say nae mair —
I tell ye, it was a rat."
"Me haud my tongue for you, guidwife!
I'll be mester o' this hoose —
I saw't as plain as een could see,
An' I tell ye, it was a moose."
"If you're the mester of the hoose,
It's I'm the mistress o't;
An' I ken best what's in the hoose —
Sae I tell ye, it was a rat."
"Weel, weel, guidwife, gae mak' the brose,
An' ca' it what ye please."
So up she rose and mad' the brose,
While John sat toastin' his taes.
They supit, and supit, and supit the brose,
And aye their lips played smack;
They supit, and supit, and supit the brose,
Till their lugs began to crack.
"Sic fules we were to fa' out, guidwife,
About a moose" – "A what?
It's a lee ye tell, an' I say again,
It wasna a moose, 'twas a rat."
"Wad ye ca' me a leear to my very face?
My faith, but ye craw crouse!
I tell you, Tib, I never will bear 't – "
"'Twas a moose" – "'Twas a rat" – "'Twas a moose."
Wi' that she struck him ower the pow —
"Ye dour auld doit, tak' that —
Gae to your bed, ye canker'd sumph —
'Twas a rat." – "'Twas a moose!" – "'Twas a rat!"
She sent the brose caup at his heels
As he hirpled ben the hoose;
Yet he shoved out his head, as he steekit the door,
And cried, "'Twas a moose, 'twas a moose!"
But when the carle fell asleep
She paid him back for that,
And roared into his sleepin' lug,
"'Twas a rat, 'twas a rat, 'twas a RAT!"
The devil be wi' me if I think
It was a beast, at all —
Next morning, when she swepit the fluir,
She found wee Johnnie's ball!
A Ready Student
Dr. Richie, of Edinburgh, though a very clever man, once met his match. When examining a student as to the classes he attended, he said: "I understand you attend the class for mathematics?"
"Yes."
"How many sides has a circle?"
"Two," said the student.
"Indeed! What are they?"
"An inside and an outside."
A laugh among the students followed this answer.
The doctor next inquired: "And you attend the moral philosophy class, also?"
"Yes."
"Well, you doubtless heard lectures on various subjects. Did you ever hear one on 'Cause and Effect?'"
"Yes."
"Does an effect ever go before a cause?"
"Yes."
"Give me an instance."
"A barrow wheeled by a man."
The doctor hastily sat down and proposed no more questions.
Appearing "in Three Pieces"
Wilson, the celebrated vocalist, was upset one day in his carriage near Edinburgh. A Scotch paper, after recording the accident, said: "We are happy to state he was able to appear the following evening in three pieces."
"Every Man to His Own Trade"
A worthy old Scotch minister, who didn't object to put his hand to a bit of work when occasion required it, was one day forking sheaves in the stackyard to his man John, who was "biggin'." One of the wheels of the cart on which the minister was standing happened to be resting on a sheaf, and when the cart was empty his reverence said: "That's them a' noo, John, excep' ane 'at's aneath the wheel, an' ye'll hae to come an' gie's a lift up wi' the wheel ere I get it oot." "Oh," said John, "just drive forrit the cart a bit." "Very true, very true," rejoined the minister; "every man to his own trade."
From Different Points of View
The following anecdote is related of Sir James Mackintosh, the Scotch philosopher and historian, and the celebrated Dr. Parr: Sir James had invited the reverend doctor to take a drive in his gig. The horse became very restive and unmanageable. "Gently, gently, Jemmy," said the doctor, "pray don't irritate him; always soothe your horse, whatever you do, Jemmy! You'll do better without me, I am certain; so let me down, Jemmy – let me down." Once on terra firma, the doctor's views of the case were changed. "Now, Jemmy, touch him up," said he. "Never let a horse get the better of you. Touch him up, conquer him, don't spare him. And now I'll leave you to manage him – I'll walk back."
Speaking from "Notes"
A porter at a Scotch railway station, who had grown grey in the service, was one day superintending matters on the platform, when the parish minister stepped up to him and asked when the next train arrived from the south. The aged official took off his cap and carefully read the hour and the minute of the train from a document stuck in the crown.
Somewhat surprised at this, the minister said: "Dear me, John, is your memory failing, or what is up with you? You used to have all these matters entirely by heart."
"Weel, sir," said John, "I dunna ken if my memory's failin', or fat's up; but the fac' is I'm growin' like yersel' – I cunna manage without the paper."
"Consecrated" Ground
The Police Commissioners of Broughton Ferry, near Dundee, some time since compelled house proprietors to lay down concrete on the footpath in front of their properties. An old lady, residing in a cottage, proudly told a friend the other day that the front of her house had been "consecrated up to the vera doorstep."
Unanswerable
When a Scotchman answers a question, he settles the matter in dispute once for all. On a certain occasion the question was asked: "Why was Mary Queen of Scots born at Linlithgow?" Sandy Kerr promptly answered: "Because her mither was staying there, sir;" and there actually seemed to be nothing more to say on the subject.
Practical Thrift
An admirable humorous reply, says Dean Ramsay, is recorded by a Scotch officer, well known and esteemed in his day for mirth and humor. Captain Innes, of the Guards (usually called Jack Innes by his contemporaries), was, with others, getting ready for Flushing or some of those expeditions of the great war. His commanding officer, Lord Huntly, remonstrated about the badness of his hat, and recommended a new one. "Na, na, bide a wee," said Jack. "Where we're gain', faith, there'll soon be mair hats nor heads." [7]
Fool Finding
A Scotch student, supposed to be deficient in judgment, was asked by a professor, in the course of his examination, how he would discover a fool? "By the questions he would ask," was the prompt and highly suggestive reply.
Robbing on Credit
A Scotch parson said recently, somewhat sarcastically, of a toper, that he put an enemy into his mouth to steal away his brains, but that the enemy, after a thorough search, returned without anything.
Going to the Doctor's and "Taking" Something
A Scotch lad was on one occasion accused of stealing some articles from a doctor's shop. The judge was much struck with his respectable appearance, and asked him why he was guilty of such a contemptible act.
"Weel, ye see," replied the prisoner, "I had a bit of pain in my side, and my mither tauld me tae gang tae the doctor's and tak' something."
"Oh, yes," said the judge, "but surely she didn't tell you to go and take an eight-day clock!"
The prisoner was evidently nonplused, but it was only for a moment. Turning to the judge, a bright smile of humor stealing over his countenance, he replied quietly:
"There's an auld proverb that says, 'Time an' the doctur cure a' diseases,' an' sae I thocht" – but the remainder was lost in the laughter of the court.
A Case in Which Comparisons Were Odious
The late Rev. Dr. John Hunter, the much-loved minister of the Tron Parish, Edinburgh, had a call one morning from one of his many poor parishioners, who said he had come to ask a favor. On the worthy minister's requesting him to specify its nature, he replied, "Weel, sir, it's to marry me."
"Very good, John," the minister said; "let me know the place, day and hour, and I shall be at your service."
"But, sir," the bridegroom answered, "it's the noo!" (The bride was waiting outside.)
"Filthy and untidy as you are! No, no; go home and wash, and dress yourself, and then I shall be prepared to perform the ceremony."
"Bless ye, sir, ye should see her!" was the response of the applicant.
Pulpit Aids
Young Minister: "I don't think I need put on the gown, John; it's only an encumbrance."
Beadle: "Ay, sir; it makes ye mair impressive – an' ye need it a', sir, ye need it a'."
Choosing a Minister
The parish kirk of Driechtor had been rather unfortunate in its ministers, two of them having gone off in a decline within a twelvemonth of their appointment, and now, after hearing a number of candidates for the vacancy, the members were looking forward with keen interest to the meeting at which the election takes place.
"Weel, Marget," asked one female parishioner of another, as they foregathered on the road one day, "wha are you gaun to vote for?"
"I'm just thinkin' I'll vote for nane o' them. I'm no muckle o' a judge, an' it'll be the safest plan," was Marget's sagacious reply.
"Toots, woman, if that's the way o't, vote wi' me."
"An' hoo are you gaun to vote?"
"I'm gaun to vote for the soundest lungs, an'll no bother us deein' again in a hurry."
Prince Albert and the Ship's Cook
During the earlier visits of the royal family to Balmoral, Prince Albert, dressed in a very simple manner, was crossing one of the Scotch lakes in a steamer, and was curious to note everything relating to the management of the vessel, and among other things, the cooking. Approaching the galley, where a brawny Highlander was attending the culinary matters, he was attracted by the savory odors of a compound known by Scotchmen as "hodge-podge," which the Highlander was preparing.
"What is that?" asked the prince, who was not known to the cook.
"Hodge-podge, sir," was the reply.
"How is it made?" was the next question.
"Why, there's mutton intil't, and turnips intil't, and carrots intil't and —
"Yes, yes," said the prince, who had not learned that "intil't" meant "into it;" "but what is intil't?"
"Why, there's mutton intil't, and turnips intil't, and carrots intil't and – "
"Yes, I see, but what is intil't?"
The man looked at him, and seeing the prince was serious, he replied: "There's mutton intil't, and turnips intil't and – "
"Yes, certainly, I know," urged the inquirer; "but what is intil't – intil't?"
"Ye daft gowk," yelled the Highlander, brandishing a large spoon, "am I no' telling ye what's intil't! There's mutton intil't and – "
Here the interview was brought to a close by one of the prince's suite, who was fortunately passing, and stepped in to save his royal highness from being rapped over the head with the big spoon while in search of information from the cook.
"To Memory 'Dear'"
"Jeems," said the laird one day to his gardener, "there was something I was going to ask you, but man, for the life o' me I canna mind what it was." "Mebbe," said Jeems, who had received no pay for three weeks, "mebbe," said he, "it was to spier at me fat wey I was keepin' body and soul thegither on the wages I wasna gettin'."
Good "for Nothing" – not the Goodness Worth Having
It was a wet day and Jamie Stoddart could not go out to play; Mrs. Stoddart, who had just cleared away the breakfast things, and was about to commence a big heap of ironing, noticed sighs of incipient restlessness in the laddie, and said; "Now, I hope you'll be a good boy the day, Jamie; I've an awfu' lot o' work to dae, an' I can't have you bothering me." "Wull ye gie me a penny if I'm awfu' guid a' day lang?" asked her son. "Mebbe I will," was the reply; "but would it no' be better to be a guid laddie just to please me?" "I'm no' sae shuir o' that," answered the laddie, reflectively. "Ma teacher at the schule says it aye better to be good even for a little, than to be guid for naething." He got that penny.
"The Weaker Vessel"
The minister of a parish in Scotland was called in some time ago to effect a reconciliation between a fisherman of a certain village and his wife. After using all the arguments in his power to convince the offending husband that it was unmanly in him, to say the least of it, to strike Polly with his fist, the minister concluded: "David, you know that the wife is the weaker vessel, and you should have pity on her."
"Weel, then," said David, sulkily, "if she's the weaker vessel she should carry the less sail."
Minding His Business
An Englishman traveling in the north of Scotland, came up to a macadamizer of the roads, and while he was busy breaking the road metal, asked him if the direction in which he was going was the way to Aberdeen. The laborer, glad to rest himself a little, dropped his hammer, and said quietly to the stranger, "Now, where cam' ye from?" The traveler, nettled at not receiving a direct answer, asked him, "What business have you with where I came from?" The macadamizer, taking up his hammer and beginning to resume his occupation, said, "Oh, just as little business as where you are gauin to!"
"Married!" – Not "Living"
"Weel, Girzie, how are ye leevin'?" said one. "Me! I'm no leevin' at a'. I'm mairret!"
A Powerful Preacher
Shortly after a Congregational chapel had been planted in the small burgh of Bonnytown, an incident occurred which showed that the powers of its minister were appreciated in certain quarters. A boy, named Johnny Fordyce, had been indiscreet enough to put a sixpence in his mouth and accidently swallowed it. Mrs. Fordyce, concerned both for her boy and the sixpence, tried every means for its recovery, consulted her neighbors, and finally in despair called in a doctor, but without result. As a last resort, a woman present suggested that they should send for the Congregationalist "meenister." "The meenister," chorused mother and neighbors. "Ay, the meenister," rejoined the old dame; "od's, if there's ony money in him he'll sune draw it oot o' 'm!"
Lost Dogs
"What dogs are these, Jasper?" inquired a gentleman of a lad, who was dragging a couple of waspish-looking terriers along a street in Edinburgh. "I dinna ken, sir," replied the urchin; "they came wi' the railway, and they ate the direction, and dinna ken whar to gang."
Stratagem of a Scotch Pedlar
Early in the nineteenth century, Sandy Frazer, a native of the northern part of this island – who by vending of linen, which he carried around the country on his back, had acquired the sum of one hundred pieces of gold – resolving to extend his business by the addition of other wares, set out for London, in order to purchase them at the best advantage. When he had arrived within a few miles of the end of his journey, he was obliged to take shelter in a house of entertainment – which stood in a lonely part of the road – from a violent storm of wind and rain. He had not been there long, before he was joined by two horsemen of genteel appearance, who stopped on the same account. As he was in possession of the fire-side, they were under necessity of joining company with him, in order to dry themselves; which otherwise the meanness of his appearance would probably have prevented their doing.
The new companions had not sat long, before the cheerfulness of his temper, and something uncommonly droll in his conversation, made them invite him to sup with them at their expense; where they entertained him so generously, that, forgetting his national prudence, he could not forbear shewing his treasure, as a proof of not being unworthy of the honor they had done him.
The storm having obliged them to remain all night, they departed together the next morning; and as a farther mark of their regard they kept company with him, though he traveled on foot, till they came into a solitary part of the road, when, one of them, putting a pistol to his breast, took of him the earnings of his whole life, leaving him only a single piece of gold, which, by good fortune, he happened to have loose in his pocket. His distress at such a loss may be easily conceived: however, he sank not under it. A thought instantly occurred to him how it might possibly be retrieved, which he lost not a moment in proceeding to execute. He had observed that the master of the house, where he had met these two plunderers, seemed to be perfectly acquainted with them; he returned therefore thither directly, and feigned to have been taken suddenly ill on the road with a disorder of the bowels; called for some wine, which he had heated, and rendered still stronger with spice. All the time he was drinking it, he did nothing but pray for his late companions; who, he said, had not only advised him to take it, but had also been so generous as to give him a piece of gold (which he produced) to pay for it; and then, seeming to be much relieved, he lamented most heavily his not knowing where to return thanks to his benefactors; which he said, the violence of his pain had made him forget to inquire.
The master of the house, to whom his guests had not mentioned the man's having money, that he might not expect to share it with them, never suspected the truth of his story, informed him without scruple, who they were, and where they lived. This was directly what he had schemed for. He crawled away till he was out of sight of the house, in order to keep up the deceit, when he made all the haste he could to town; and, inquiring for his spoilers, he had the satisfaction to hear they were people in trade, and of good repute for their wealth.
The next morning, therefore, as soon, as he thought they were stirring, he went to the house of one of them, whom he found in the room where his merchandise was exposed for sale. The merchant instantly knew him; but, imagining he came on some other business (for he did not think it possible that he could have traced him, or even that he could know him in his altered appearance) asked him in the usual way what he wanted.
"I want to speak wi' ye in private, sir," he answered, getting between him and the door; and then, on the merchant's affecting surprise – "In gude troth, sir," he continued, "I think it is somewhat strange that ye shud na ken Sandy, who supped with ye the neeght before the laust, after au the kindness ye shewed to him." Then lowering his voice, so as not to be overheard by the people present, he told him, with a determined accent, that if he did not instantly return him his money, he would apply to a magistrate for redress.
This was a demand which admitted not of dispute. The money was paid him, gratuity for having lent it, and his receipt taken to that effect; after which he went directly to the other, upon whom he made a like successful demand.