“I dinna exactly see’t,” he confessed, “but that’s no an oncommon thing. A humourist would often no ken ’at he was are if it wasna by the wy he maks other fowk lauch. A body canna be expeckit baith to mak the joke an’ to see’t. Na, that would be doin’ twa fowks’ wark.”
“Weel, that’s reasonable enough, but I’ve often seen ye lauchin’,” said Hendry, “lang afore other fowk lauched.”
“Nae doubt,” Tammas explained, “an’ that’s because humour has twa sides, juist like a penny piece. When I say a humorous thing mysel’ I’m dependent on other fowk to tak note o’ the humour o’t, bein’ mysel’ taen up wi’ the makkin’ o’t. Aye, but there’s things I see an’ hear at’ maks me laucht, an’ that’s the other side o’ humour.”
“I never heard it put sae plain afore,” said T’nowhead, “an’, sal, am no nane sure but what am a humourist too.”
“Na, na, no you, T’nowhead,” said Tammas hotly.
Sir Owen Seaman, present editor of Punch, is also one of the finest parodists of all time. His humorous verse of all varieties is in the first rank.
A NOCTURNE AT DANIELI’S
(Suggested by Browning’s A Toccata of Galuppi’s.)
Caro mio, Pulcinello, kindly hear my wail of woe
Lifted from a noble structure—late Palazzo Dandolo.