The man turned on me a defiant and contemptuous look for my ignorance, and answered, looking reverently at the cane on which his hands were imposed: "Sir, that's the great Docther Chawmers, and I'm haudin' his stick!" [[16]]
Indiscriminate Humor
The late Archibald Constable, the well-known Edinburgh publisher, was somewhat remarkable in his day for the caustic severity of his speech, which, however, was only a thin covering to a most amiable, if somewhat overbearing, disposition.
On one occasion a partner of the London publishing house of Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme & Brown was dining with Mr. C——, at his country seat near the beautiful village of Lasswade. Looking out of the window, the Londoner remarked, "What a pretty lake, and what beautiful swans!"
"Lake, mon, and swans!—it's nae a lake, it's only a pond; and they're naething but geese. You'll maybe noteece that they are just five of them; and Baldy, that ne'er-do-weel bairn there, caws them Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme and Brown!"
Sir Walter Scott, in telling the story, was wont to add: "That skit cost the 'crafty' many a guinea, for the cockney was deeply offended, as well he might be, not knowing the innocent intent with which his Scotch friend made such speeches."
Scotch Undergraduates and Funerals
The reported determination of a Scottish professor not to allow the students of his class more than one funeral in each family this session sounds like a grim joke; but it is fair to note that this gentleman, who has presumptively some experience of the ways of undergraduates, was lately reported to have come to the conclusion that the very high rate of mortality of late among the relatives of members of his class has been "artificially produced." Dark reminders of the hero of "Ruddigore," who was bound by the decrees of fate to commit one crime a day, have been heard in connection with this mysterious reference; but the University Correspondent has thrown a little light on the subject. The suggestion is that the northern undergraduate—not unlike his English brother—when he is feeling a little bored by his surroundings at the university, has a habit of producing a sad telegram informing him of the demise of a maiden aunt or second-cousin who never existed. [[17]]
Honest Johnny M'Cree
In one of his speeches Sheridan says: I remember a story told respecting Mr. Garrick, who was once applied to by an eccentric Scotchman to introduce a work of his on the stage. This Scotchman was such a good-humored fellow, that he was called "honest Johnny M'Cree."