The prettiest anecdote, in Dean Ramsay's Reminiscences, relates to whisky, and I cannot refrain from quoting it.
An old Scotch lady had just sent for her gardener to cut the grass on her lawn.
"Cut it short," she said to him; "mind, Donald, an inch at the bottom is worth two at the top."
Always the same way of speaking in moral sentences so common in Scotland.
The work done, the good lady offered Donald a glass of whisky, and proceeded to pour it out, but showed sign of stopping before the top was reached.
"Fill it up, ma'am, fill it up," said the shrewd-witted fellow, "an inch at the top is worth twa at the bottom."
CHAPTER XXV.
Hors-d'œuvre.—A Word to the Reader and another to the Critic.—A Man who has a right to be proud.—Why?