After digging for half an hour, he came back nigh speechless to the Laird, who had regarded him musingly.
“I canna find him, sir,” said John.
“Deed,” said the Laird, very coolly, “I wad hae wondered if ye had, for it’s ten years an’ mair sin’ I saw him gang in.”
On one occasion, when the gallant Highlanders were stationed at Gibraltar, Sandy Macnab was sergeant of the guard, and in due course of duty had sent his corporal to make the last relief before four o’clock in the morning. Whilst proceeding to one of the outlying posts the corporal missed his footing, fell over the cliff, and was killed. Meantime Sergeant Macnab had been filling up the usual guard report, preparatory to dismounting. Now, at the foot of the form on which such reports are made out there is a printed inquiry—“Anything extraordinary occurred since mounting guard?”
Macnab, unaware of the accident to his corporal, filled the query space up with the word “Nil,” and, having no spare copy of the form, sent this in to the orderly-room to take its chance. When the Colonel and Adjutant attended in the orderly-room at ten o’clock, learned of the mishap, and read Macnab’s report, the latter was peremptorily ordered to appear before them.
“Macnab,” cried the Colonel, in a rage, “what the devil do you mean by filling up your guard report in this way? You say ‘Nothing extraordinary occurred since mounting guard,’ and yet your poor comrade fell over the cliff and was killed.”
Sandy, finding himself in a fix, pulled himself together, and after a moment or two of deliberation answered, coolly, “Weel, sir, I dinna see onything very extraordinar’ in that. It would hae been something very extraordinar’ if he hadna been killed; he fell fowr hunder feet!”
In Mr. Barrie’s Little Minister, a discussion takes place in the village Parliament as to whether it is possible for a woman to refuse to marry a minister. “I once,” said Snecky Hobart, “knew a widow who did. His name was Samson, and if it had been Tamson she would hae ta’en him. Ay, you may look, but it’s true. Her name was Turnbull, and she had another gent after her, named Tibbets. She couldna make up her mind atween them, and for a while she just keeped them dangling on. Ay, but in the end she took Tibbets. And what, think you, was her reason? As you ken, thae grand folk hae their initials on their spoons and nichtgowns. Ay, weel, she thocht it would be mair handy to take Tibbets, because if she had ta’en the minister, the T’s would have to be changed to S’s. It was thochtfu’ o’ her.”
Our next two specimens show how waggish the Scotch can be.