Scotch Wit and Humor Part 36

=A Preacher with his Back Towards Heaven=

During one of the religious revivals in Scotland, a small farmer went about preaching with much fluency and zeal, the doctrine of a "full a.s.surance" of faith, and expressed his belief of it for himself in such extravagant terms as few men would venture upon who were humble and cautious against presumption. The preacher, being personally rather remarkable as a man of greedy and selfish views in life, excited some suspicion in the breast of an old sagacious countryman, a neighbor of Dr. Macleod, who asked what _he_ thought of John as a preacher, and of his doctrine?

Scratching his head, as if in some doubt, he replied, "_I never ken't a man sae sure o' heaven and so sweert_ (slow) _to be gaing taet_." [5]

=Nearer the Bottom than the Top=

A little boy who attended a day school near his home, was always asked in the evening how he stood in his own cla.s.s. The invariable answer was, "I'm second dux," which means, in Scottish academical language, second from the top of the cla.s.s. As his habits of application at home did not quite bear out the claims to so distinguished a literary position at school, one of the family ventured to ask what was the number in the cla.s.s to which he was attached. After some hesitation, he was obliged to admit, "Ou, there's jist me and _anither la.s.s_."

=A Crus.h.i.+ng Argument against MS. Sermons=

A clergyman thought his people were making rather an unconscionable objection to his using an MS. in delivering a sermon.

They urged, "What gars ye tak' up your bit papers to the pu'pit?"

He replied that it was best, for really he could not remember his sermons, and must have his paper.

"Weel, weel, minister, then dinna expect that _we_ can remember them."

=Mortal Humor=

Humor sometimes comes out on the very scaffold. An old man was once hanged for complicity in a murder. The rope broke, and he fell heavily to the ground. His first utterance when his breath returned to him was, "Ah, sheriff, sheriff, gie us fair hangin'."

His friends demanded that he should be delivered up to them, as a second hanging was not contemplated in the sentence. But the old man, looking round on the curious crowd of gazers, and lifting up his voice, said, "Na, na, boys, I'll no gang hame to my neighbors to hear people pointing me oot as the half-hangit man; I'll be hangit oot."

And he got his wish five minutes after.

=A Fruitful Field=

The following anecdote was communicated to me by a gentleman who happened to be a party to the conversation detailed below. This gentleman was pa.s.sing along the road not one hundred miles from Peterhead one day. Two different farms skirt the separate sides of the turnpike, one of which is rented by a farmer who cultivates his land according to the most advanced system of agriculture, and the other of which is farmed by a gentleman of the old school.

Our informant met the latter worthy at the side of the turnpike, opposite his neighbor's farm, and seeing a fine crop of wheat upon what appeared to be (and really was) very poor and thin land, asked, "When was that wheat sown?"

"O, I dinna ken," replied the gentleman of the old school, with a sort of half indifference, half contempt.

"But isn't it strange that such a fine crop should be reared on such bad land?" asked our informant.

"O, na--nae at a'--devil thank it; a gravesteen wad gie guid bree gin ye geed it plenty o' b.u.t.ter." [7]

=The "Minister's Man"=

The "minister's man" was a functionary now less often to be met with. He was the minister's own servant and _factotum_. Amongst this cla.s.s there was generally much Scottish humor and original character. They were (like the betheral, or beadle) great critics of sermons, and often severe upon strangers, sometimes with a sly hit at their own ministers.

One of these, David, a well-known character, complimenting a young minister who had preached, told him, "Your introduction, sir, is aye grand; it's worth a' the rest o' the sermon,--could ye no' mak' it a'

introduction?"

David's criticisms of his master's sermons were sometimes sharp enough and shrewd. On one occasion, the minister was driving home from a neighboring church where he had been preaching, and where he had, as he thought, acquitted himself pretty well, inquired of David what _he_ thought of it. The subject of discourse had been the escape of the Israelites from Egypt. So David opened his criticism:

"Thocht o't, sir? Deed I thocht nocht o't ava. It was a vara imperfect discourse, in ma opinion; ye did well eneucht till ye took them through, but where did ye leave them? Just daunerin' o' the sea-sh.o.r.e without a place to gang till. Had it no' been for Pharaoh they had been better on the other side, where they were comfortably encampit than daunerin'

where ye left them. It's painful to hear a sermon stoppit afore it is richt ended, just as it is to hear ane streeket out lang after it's dune. That's my opinion o' the sermon ye geid us to-day."

"Very freely given, David, very freely given; drive on a little faster, for I think ye're daunerin' noo, yersell." [7]

=A New and Original Scene in "Oth.e.l.lo"=

At a Scottish provincial theatre, a prompter named Walls, who, being exceedingly useful, frequently appeared on the stage, happened one evening to play the Duke, in "_Oth.e.l.lo_." Previous to going on, he had given directions to a girl-of-all-work, who looked after the wardrobe, to bring a gill of best whiskey. Not wis.h.i.+ng to go out, as the evening was wet, the girl deputed her little brother to execute the commission.

The senate was a.s.sembled, and the speaker was--

_Brabantio_: "For my particular grief is of so floodgate and o'erbearing nature, that it engluts and swallows other sorrows, and is still itself."

_Duke_: "Why, what's the matter?"

Here the little boy walked on to the stage with a pewter gill stoup, and thus delivered himself:

"It's just the whusky, Mr. Walls, and I couldna get ony at fourpence, so yer awn the landlord a penny, an' he says it's time you were payin'

whet's doon i' the book."

The roars of laughter which followed from both audience and actors for some time prevented the further progress of the play.

=The Shape of the Earth=

A country schoolmaster of the old time was coaching his pupils for the yearly examination by the clergymen of the district. He had before him the junior geography cla.s.s.

"Can any little boy or girl tell me what is the shape of the earth?"

To this there was no answer.

"Oh, dear me, this is sad! What wull the minister sink o' this? Well, I'll gie you a token to mind it. What is the shape o' this snuff-box in ma han'?"

"Square, sir," replied all.

"Yes; but on the Sabbath, when a shange ma claes, I shange ma snuff-box, and I wears a round one. Will you mind that for a token?"

Examination day came, and the junior geography cla.s.s was called.

"Fine intelligent cla.s.s this, Mr. Mackenzie," said one of the clergymen.

"Oh, yes, sir, they're na boor-like."

"Can any of the little boys or girls tell me what is the shape of the earth?"

Every hand was extended, every head thrown back, every eye flashed with eager excitement in the good old style of schools. One was singled out with a "You, my little fellow, tell us."