“And well tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet.”
“Or wake the bosom-smelting throe.”
And there are many other blunders quite as ludicrous. Experience is a severe school, and when the Scotch becomes the universal tongue John Bull will perceive this; but perhaps not before.
A very humorous instance of the almost incomprehensibility of things Scotch by the English mind occurred during one of the earlier visits of the Royal Family to Balmoral. The late Prince Consort, dressed in a simple manner, was crossing one of the Scottish lochs in a steamer, and was curious to note everything relating to the management of the vessel, and, among other things, the cooking. Approaching the galley, where a brawny Scot was attending to the culinary matters, he was attracted by the savoury odours of a dish of hotch-potch which Sandy was preparing.
“What is that?” asked the Prince, who was not known to the cook.
“Hotch-potch, sir,” was the reply.
“How is it made?” was the next question.
“Weel, there’s mutton intill’t, and neeps intill’t, and carrots intill’t, and——”
“Yes, yes,” said the Prince, “but what is intill’t?”
“Weel, there’s mutton intill’t, and neeps intill’t, and——”