"Sir David," rejoined the crier, with some dignity, "if I was to ask that of you, you would say I was ill-bred."
He had the misfortune once to break his leg in a drunken brawl, and a hastily constructed litter was improvised to carry him home. Still his characteristic humor did not leave him. "Canny boys," he would cry to those carrying him, "keep the funeral step; tak' care o' my pipe; let oor Jock tae the head, he's the chief mourner."
An Affectionate Aunt
A plain-spoken old Scottish lady, Mrs. Wanchope, of Nibbey, being very ill, sent for Aunt Soph and said to her: "Soph, I believe I am dying; will you be always kind to my children when I am gone?"
"Na, na; tak' yer spoilt deevils wi' ye," was the reply, "for I'll hae naething ado wi' them!"
A Discerning Fool
"Jock, how auld will ye be?" said a sage wife to daft Jock Amos one day, when talking of their ages.
"O, I dinna ken," said Jock; "it would tak' a wiser head than mine to tell you that."
"It's an unco' queer thing you dinna ken hoo auld you are," returned the woman.
"I ken weel eneuch how auld I am," answered Jock; "but I dinna ken how auld I'll be." [[24]]