Many examples are easily recognisable as identical in spirit with the parallel English adages, the slight differences of setting giving them an added interest. One gets so used to things when always presented to us the same way that their value gets dulled, and a new reading then comes very opportunely. The Scottish version, "A bird in the hand is worth twa fleeing bye"[96:A] is, we think, a good example of this. The leading idea in both this and the English declaration that "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush" is the greater value of a small certainty than a larger possibility; but, while the twittering of the free birds in the bush may be provoking, there is at least the possibility of their capture, while the Scottish version gives a still greater value to our possession, seeing that even as we grasp it the possibility of increasing our store is rapidly passing away. In a collection, gathered together in 1586, we find "It is better to haif ane brede in hand nor twa in the wood fleande."
Other examples of this practical identity are these: "Before you choose a friend eat a peck o' saut wi' him"; "It's no easy to straucht in the oak the crook that grew in the sapling." The "sour grapes" of our English proverb are at once suggested in this northern version: "Soor plooms, quo' the tod, when he couldna' climb the tree"; "Ill weeds wax weel."
The value of this change of diction as an aid to appreciation is also felt still more when it arises from some little antiquity. Our most familiar adages, for instance, seem to possess an added charm when we find them embedded in the quaint English of the poems of Chaucer and others of our earlier writers, and in like manner many of the proverbs given in this collection of the year 1586 have a special interest. The mere setting is a very secondary point, though not without importance, since we readily see that what we need is, in the first and foremost place, the sterling truth, and then this truth enhanced in value by the happy way it is presented to our notice. The following extracts from this collection, gathered together over three centuries ago, will be of interest:—"The fische bred in durtie pooles will taiste of mude," "Whane the sunne schyneth the lyt of the starres ar not seene," "All the praise of wertew consisteth in doing," "Wit is the better gif it be the dearer bocht," "The foull taide hath a faire stoine in his hede," "The sweite kirnell lyeth in the harde schell," "The glass anes crazed will wt the leist clap be crackt," "The fairest silke is soonest soylede," "He quhilk walde gather frwite sould plant treis," "Bargaines maid in speid are comonlie repented at leasure," "Thair is no smoke but quhair thair is sum fyre," "In grettest charge ar grettest cares," "A kyndome is more esilie gotten than keipit," "Quhen the sone schyneth the cloudis wanish away," "The fyne golde must be purified in the flamyng fyre," "Greiwous woundes must have smarting plasters," "Many thingis happen betwene the cupe and the lyp,"[98:A] "Thair is no clayth so fine bot mothes will eit it," "He that lepeth or he looke may hap to leip in the brook."
Scottish proverbs, despite the assertion that the only way to get a joke into a Scotchman's head is by a surgical operation, have a strong vein of humour in them—a feature that is much more characteristic of them than of those of any other nationality the wide world over. What could be happier than this caution to those whose presence is not desired: "A weel-bred dog goes out when he sees them going to kick him out!" "They're keen o' company that tak' the dog on their back," "Friends are like fiddle-strings, they maunna be screwed ower tight."
The national shrewdness and mother-wit is naturally reflected in the national proverb-lore. A very quaint example of this is seen in the warning that "Ye'll no sell your hens on a rainy day." Drenched and wretched-looking, no one will look at them; it is not at all making the best of things. How excellent is this hint against avarice: "Greed is envy's auldest brither, scraggy wark they mak thegither";[98:B] or this: "Ne'er let your gear o'ergang you"; or this: "A greedy e'e ne'er got a gude pennyworth."
How shrewd such adages as: "Changes are lightsome and fools like them"; "He that gets gear before he gets wit is but a short time master of it"; "He is no the fool that the fool is, but he that with the fool deals"; "Oft counting keeps friends lang thegither," the English equivalent being, "Short reckonings make long friends"; "A wise man gets learning fra' them that hae nane i' their ain"; "Better a gude fame than a gude face"; "He that seeks motes gets motes";[99:A] "Ill payers are aye gude cravers"; "He speaks in his drink what he thinks in his drouth." Prosperous people can afford to listen to envious remarks, for "A fu' sack can bear a clout in the side," and be never the worse for it.
There is a sharp touch of sarcasm in many of these northern adages: "The deil's journeyman ne'er wants wark." How true to life the feeling, yet how deftly pointed the satire, "They are aye gude that are far awa," or this very similar utterance, "They're no a' saints that get the name o't." A valuable lesson, too, to people consumed with a sense of their own importance is this: "The king lies doun, but the world runs round." The point becomes sharper yet in the statement that a "Green turf is a gude mother-in-law"—that is to say, this particular member of the family is best in the churchyard.
An old English proverb says that "Almost and very nigh save many a lie"; but the Scotch say, "Amaist and very near hae aye been great liars." The two dicta are in direct opposition, yet both may be accepted.
The power of money to make money is very picturesquely expressed by "Put twa pennies in a purse and they'll creep thegither." Down south we say that "Experience is a dear school, but fools will learn in no other"; but the Scottish method is wiser, if practicable, though there is a touch of selfishness in it: "Better learn frae your neebor's skaith (misfortune) than frae your ain."
It is very true that "His you are whom you serve,"[99:B] and "They that work i' the mill maun wear the livery." How full, too, of wise teaching: "When you dance ken who you tak' by the hand," and realise what the association involves. The mighty power of influence, and the responsibility that rests on us for our actions, the impossibility of arresting the ever-widening circle is well seen in the hint: "If the laird slight the lady sae will the kitchen boy." The saying, "Ye hae gude manners, but ye dinna bear them about wi' ye," is a very delicate way of saving the amour propre of the reproved while indicating evident shortcomings. How quaintly picturesque the adage, again, "Like a chip amang parritch, little gude, little ill," to describe some wholly immaterial thing.
