Sir Walter Scott, in his article in the Quarterly Review, on the Culloden papers, mentions a characteristic instance of an old Highland warrior's mode of pardon. "You must forgive even your bitterest enemy, Kenmuir, now," said the confessor to him, as he lay gasping on his death-bed. "Well, if I must, I must," replied the Chieftain, "but my curse be on you, Donald," turning towards his son, "if you forgive him."
CABBAGE AND DITTO.
We have just now heard a cabbage story which we will cook up for our laughter loving readers:
"Oh! I love you like anything," said a young countryman to his sweetheart, warmly pressing her hand.
"Ditto," said she gently returning his pressure.
The ardent lover, not happening to be over and above learned, was sorely puzzled to understand the meaning of ditto—but was ashamed to expose his ignorance by asking the girl. He went home, and the next day being at work in a cabbage patch with his father, he spoke out:
"Daddy, what's the meaning of ditto?"
"Why," said the old man, "this here is one cabbage head, ain't it?"
"Yes, daddy."
"Well, that ere's ditto."