“Pray, sir,” inquired the learned servant, “how long may a man live without brains?”
“I dinna ken,” responded the natural, scratching his head, and eyeing the Professor critically from top to toe; “how auld are you yersel’?”
Remonstrated with for his do-nothing kind of life, one was told he might at least herd cows.
“Me herd kye!” said he; “I wonder to hear ye. I’m far ower daft. Man, I dinna ken grass frae corn.”
Previous to the amelioration in the Poor Law, men of the imbecile class were found constantly as “hangers-on” about hotels and coach offices, as well as churchyards on occasions of funerals. About seventy years ago there lived one of this class in Dunbar, who regularly frequented the kitchen of the “White Swan,” where he received all his meals. His appetite was of no common order, and when remonstrated with for eating all food that came in his way, he was wont to exclaim, “Better belly burst than gude meat spoil;” and the saying has become a proverb.
Daft Willie Law was the descendant of an ancient family nearly related to the famous John Law of Laurieston, the celebrated financier of France. Willie, on that account, was often spoken to and taken notice of by gentlemen of distinction. Posting one day through Kirkcaldy with more than ordinary speed, he was met by Mr. Oswald of Dunnikier, who asked him where he was bound for in such a hurry.
“Gaun!” says Willie, with apparent surprise at the question. “I’m gaun to my cousin, Lord Elgin’s burial.”
“Your cousin, Lord Elgin’s burial, you fool! Lord Elgin’s not dead,” responded Mr. Oswald.
“Ah! deil ma care,” quoth Willie, “there’s sax doctors out o’ Embro’ at him, an’ they’ll hae him dead afore I win forrit,” and off he posted at an increased rate.
These poor creatures, as Dean Ramsay observes, had invariably a great delight in attending funerals. In most country places hardly a funeral ever took place without the attendance of the parochial idiot. And habit has such a powerful influence that it seemed almost a necessary association. Funeral scenes of this description had been familiar to the experience of Sir Walter Scott, who thus portrays a funeral incident in Guy Mannering:—