“A countryman came one day and told Lady Machermore,[326] ‘Oh, madam, you have lost a great enemy this morning—the auld bear of Kirouchtree’s dead.’ ‘Ay, ay,’ says she, ‘the auld Heron dead? give the honest man a dram.’ The fellow took his dram very contentedly, and then said, ‘Na, God be thanked, madam, Heron’s not dead, for I mean the old boar-sow that used to destroy your potatoes.’”
Mr. Heron.
“At an execution in the Grass Mercat, Boswell was observing that if you will consider it abstractly there is nothing terrible in it. ‘No doubt, sir,’ replied Mr. Love, ‘if you will abstract everything terrible that it has about it, nothing terrible will remain.’”
“When Lord Galloway was in Constantinople, an old Turk of sixty was dining one day with a company of the English, with whose ease and freedom and mirth he was so much transported as to exclaim, ‘Good God, am I come to this age, and have lived but one day!’”
Lord Galloway.
“Lord Mark Ker[327] was playing at backgammon with Lord Stair in a coffee-house in London; an impudent fellow was saying some rude things against Scotland. ‘Come, my Lord Stair,’ said Lord Mark, ‘let us have a throw of the dice, which of us two kicks this scoundrel down-stairs.’ Lord Stair had the highest throw, and accordingly used the fellow as he deserved. ‘Well,’ said Lord Mark, ‘I allways am unlucky at play.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Montgomerie,[328] of Skermorly, was Provost of Glasgow. A vain, haughty man, Jacobie Corbet,[329] a merchant, and a noted man for humour, accosted him one day in the familiar style of ‘How are you, Hugh?’ ‘Hugh, sir?’ said he, ‘is that a proper way of talking to the Lord Provost of Glasgow?—Officer, take this fellow to prison directly.’ It was accordingly done. Some time after commissions for justices of the peace came down, and amongst the rest was one for —— Montgomerie, of Skermorly. ‘Ay,’ said he, ‘this is pretty odd. I should think the Queen might have been better acquainted with my name.’ ‘Indeed,’ replied Corbet, ‘I dare say she remembered your name, but she knew that if she called you Hugh she would have got the Tolbooth.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“When Campbell,[330] of Shawfield, returned with all his riches to Glasgow, everybody flocked about him to pay their respects except Corbet, with whom he had served his apprenticeship, who never troubled his head or went near him. Shawfield, concerned at this, and willing to ingratiate himself with everybody, came up to him as he was walking before his shop. ‘Oh, my good old friend, Jacobie Corbet, I rejoice to see you. I protest I know no odds upon you these twenty years.’ ‘Say you so, Daniel?’ cried he, ‘but I know a very great odds upon you; you came here at first wanting bretches, and now you are riding a coach and six.’”