After Prof. Aytoun had made proposals of marriage to Miss Emily Jane Wilson, daughter of "Christopher North," he was, as a matter of course, referred to her father. As Aytoun was uncommonly diffident, he said to her, "Emily, my dear, you must speak to him for me. I could not summon courage to speak to the professor on this subject."
"Papa is in the library," said the lady.
"Then you had better go to him," said the suitor, "and I'll wait here for you."
There being apparently no help for it, the lady proceeded to the library, and taking her father affectionately by the hand, mentioned that Aytoun had asked her in marriage. She added, "Shall I accept this offer, papa; he is so shy and diffident, that he cannot speak to you himself."
"Then we must deal tenderly with him," said the hearty old man. "I'll write my reply on a slip of paper, and pin it on your back."
"Papa's answer is on the back of my dress," said Miss Wilson, as she re-entered the drawing-room.
Turning round, the delighted swain read these words: "With the author's compliments."
A Sad Drinking Bout
The following story of an occurrence at one of the drinking bouts in Scotland, at which the Laird of Garscadden took his last draught, has often been told, but it will bear repetition. The scene occurred in the wee clachan of Law, where a considerable number of Kilpatrick lairds had congregated for the ostensible purpose of talking over some parish business. And well they talked and better drank, when one of them, about the dawn of the morning, fixing his eye on Garscadden, remarked that he was "looking unco' gash."
Upon which the Laird of Kilmardinny coolly replied, "Deil mean him, since he has been wi' his Maker these twa hours! I saw him step awa', but I dinna like to disturb guid company!"