Scotch Wit and Humor Part 39

_Jenny_: Our Bill. Ou, ay, Wully we ca' him, but I ken wha you mean--he's no in e'en now.

_Tourist_: Wully! what I want is my account--a paper stating what I have had, and how much I have to pay.

_Jenny_: Did ony woman ever hear the like o' that--ye mean the lawin', man! But we keep nae accounts here; na, na, we hae ower muckle to dae.

_Tourist_: And how do you know what to charge?

_Jenny_: On, we just put the things down on the sclate, and tell the customers the tottle by word o' mouth.

_Tourist_: Just so. Well, will you give me the lawin', as I am going?

_Jenny_: Oh, sir, ye're jokin' noo! It's you maun gie me the lawin'--the lawin's the siller.

_Tourist_: Oh, indeed, I beg your pardon; how much is it?

_Jenny_: That's just what I was coming ben to tell you, sir. If ye had ask'd me first, or waited till I tell't ye, I wadna hae keepit ye a minute. We're no blate at askin' the lawin', although some folk are unco' slow at payin' o't. It's just four-and-six.

_Tourist_: That is very moderate; there is five s.h.i.+llings.

_Jenny_: Thank you, sir; I hope we hae a sixpence in the house, for I wadna' like to gie bawbees to a gentleman.

_Tourist_: No, no; the sixpence is for yourself.

_Jenny_: Oh, sir, it's ower muckle.

_Tourist_: What, do you object to take it?

_Jenny_: Na, na, sir; I wouldna' put that affront upon ye. But I'll gie ye a bit o' advice for't. When ye're gaun awa' frae an inn in a hurry, dinna be fas.h.i.+n' yersel' wi' mistresses, and misses, and bills; but just say, "What's the lawin', la.s.s?"

=Meanness versus Crustiness=

A rather mean and parsimonious old lady called one day upon David Dreghorn, a well-known Glasgow fishmonger, saying, "Weel, Maister Dreghorn, how are ye selling your half salmon the noo?"

David being in a rather cross humor, replied, "When we catch ony half salmon, mem, we'll let ye ken!"

=Speeding the Parting Guest=

It is related of a n.o.ble Scottish lady of the olden time, who lived in a remote part of the Highlands, and was noted for her profuse liberality, that she was some times overburdened with habitual "sorners." When any one of them outstayed his welcome, she would take occasion to say to him at the morning meal, with an arch look at the rest of the company, "Mak'

a guid breakfast, Mr. ----, while ye're about it; ye dinna ken whaur ye'll get your dinner." The hint was usually taken, and the "sorner"

departed.

="Things Which Accompany Salvation"=

"What d'ye think o' this great revival that's gaun on the noo, Jamie?"

asked a grocer of a brother tradesman.

"Weel," answered Jamie, "I canna say muckle about it, but I ken this--I hae gotten in a gude wheen bawbees that I had given up lang syne as bad debts."

=Lights and Livers=

Lord c.o.c.kburn, when at the bar, was pleading in a steamboat collision case. The case turned on the fact of one of the steamers carrying no lights, which was the cause of the accident. c.o.c.kburn insisting on this, wound up his eloquent argument with this remark: "In fact, gentlemen, had there been more _lights_, there would have been more _livers_."

=Both Short=

"Ye're unco' short the day, Saunders, surely," said an undersized student to a Glasgow bookseller, one morning, when the latter was in an irritable mood.

"Od, man," was the retort, "ye may haud your tongue; ye're no' sae lang yersel'."

=His Own, With "Interest"=

"Coming from h--l, Lauchlan?" quoth a shepherd, proceeding on Sacrament Sunday to the Free Church, and meeting a friend coming from the Church of the Establishment.

"Better nor going to it, Rory," retorted Lauchlan, as he pa.s.sed on.

="The Spigot's Oot"=

Lord Airlie remarked to one of his tenants that it was a very wet season.

"Indeed, my lord," replied the man, "I think the spigot's oot a'thegither."

=Looking After Himself=

A canny man, who had accepted the office of elder because some wag had made him believe that the remuneration was a sixpence each Sunday and a boll of meal on New Year's Day, officially carried round the ladle each Sunday after service. When the year expired he claimed the meal, but was told that he had been hoaxed.

"It may be sae wi' the meal," he replied, coolly, "but I took care o'

the saxpence mysel'."

=An Epitaph to Order=

The Rev. Dr. M'Culloch, minister of Bothwell at the end of last century, was a man of sterling independence and great self-decision. To a friend--Rev. Mr. Brisbane--he one day said, "You must write my epitaph if you survive me."

"I will do that," said Mr. Brisbane; "and you shall have it at once, doctor."

Next morning he received the following:

"Here lies, interred beneath this sod, That sycophantish man of G.o.d, Who taught an easy way to heaven, Which to the rich was always given; If he get in, he'll look and stare To find some out that he put there."

=A Variety Entertainment=