Farmer (in equal astonishment)—“Gude—save—us—do ye no understand gude plain English? Are—yer—aits—muckle—bookit?”
He might as well have asked the road to Stronachlacher, Auchtermuchty, Ecclefechan, or Ponfeigh. The reaper decamped to her nearest companion declaring him a madman; while the farmer shouted in great wrath, “They are naething else than a set o’ ignorant pock-puddin’s.”
“My girl,” enquired a Cockney tourist of a Scotch lassie whom he met tripping lightly barefoot, “is it the custom for girls to go barefooted in these parts?”
“Pairtly they do,” she replied, “and pairtly they mind their ain business.”
“My girl,” enquired a Cockney tourist of a Scotch lassie whom he met tripping lightly barefoot, “is it the custom for girls to go barefooted in these parts?” “Pairtly they do,” she replied, “and pairtly they mind their ain business.”—[Page 215.]
The dour, plodding, persevering nature of the Scot, by virtue of which he has often prevailed over his less crafty English brother, is well exemplified in the following little narrative, which humorously describes the opening of a large mercantile business between the West of Scotland and the English capital:—
A West country Scot, who had engaged in the manufacture of a certain description of goods, then recently introduced into that part of the country, found it necessary, or conjectured it might be profitable, to establish a permanent connection with some respectable house in London. With this design he packed up a quantity of goods, equipped himself for the journey, and departed. Upon his arrival he made diligent enquiry as to those who were likely to prove his best customers, and accordingly proceeded to call upon one of the most opulent drapers, with whom he resolved to establish a regular correspondence. When Saunders entered the shop in question he found it crowded with customers, and the salesmen all bustling about making sales, and displaying their wares to prospective purchasers. Saunders waited what he considered a reasonable time, then in a lull of the business, laid down his pack, his bonnet, and staff, upon the counter, and enquired for “the head o’ the hoose.”
One of the clerks asked him what he wanted.
“I’m wantin’ to see gin he wants ocht in my line,” was the answer.