In Scotland, even a beggar has none of those abject manners that denote his class elsewhere. His look seems to say:—
"Come, my fine fellow, listen to me a minute: you have money and I have none; you might give me a penny."
I remember one in Edinburgh, who stopped me politely, yet without touching his cap, and said:
"You look as if you had had a good dinner, sir; won't you give me something to buy a meal with?"
I took him to a cook-shop and bought him a pork pie.
"If you don't mind," said he, "I'll have veal."
Why certainly! everyone to his taste, to be sure.
I acquiesced with alacrity. He was near shaking hands with me.
Donald is plain spoken with everyone. In Scotland, as in France, there are still to be found old servants whose familiarity would horrify an Englishman, but whom the bonhomie of Scotch masters tolerates without a murmur, in consideration of the fidelity and devotion of these honest servants.
Like every man who is conscious of his strength, the Scot is good-humoured; he rarely loses his temper.