SCOTCH YE KEN!

Evening Star, Issue 15478, 28 April 1914, Page 9

SCOTCH YE KEN!

Says “Oriel” in the Melbourne‘ Argus’; —Once upon a time we were only periodically reminded of the fact that tnere were some Scotsmen in Australia, as, for instance, when the Caledonians met ano drew attention to the fact that «ver,s successful man the world had ever seen, from Solomon downwards, was of Scottisa parentage. Nowadays, since the arrival in the Commonwealth of General Sir lan Hamilton and Mr Harry Lauder, ever} other person in the community seems to be of Scottish descent, or to possess a surprising knowledge of the language of the Scots. A distinct burr has oeen nctsceable in the musical notes of the motor horns in the city during the past lew days, and the roosters are beginning to crow in the Scotch language in 'to suburbs. By the time the new GovernorGeneral (Sir Ronald Mnnro-Fergasou) arrives frae hame (Hoots, mon! oven the blessed pen writes in Scotch!) we will all be brither Scots. At the football matches the barrackers will be yelling: “ Doon yon scoundrel, Rab! Gie that loon yin in the lug!” At the oyster saloon we will be assured that it is “a braw bricht mebt fu da staka da oyst.” At the Federal ©lections the candidate fox Murphys ilat will open his campaign as follows: —■ “Lads and lassies, although I dinnathink ye’ll tak me for a Scotsman, ma name being O’Flaherty, indade oi am. 01 always enjoy me parritch afore me bacon and eggs and praties, and Oi’m a gra-ate admirer of Ahndrew Fisher and Tommy Burns, the divil Oi am." And in the City Police Court th© arresting constable will give evidence before Cr MacHennessy and his colleagues on the bench as follows :—“ Me name is Patrick Bourke, an’ Oi’m a conshtable stationed at Russell street, Oi arrieted the difindent in Bourke street, at wan o’clock this morning. He had a haggis under his arm—(Defendant: It’s an uvfu’ lee; it was a crayfish)—and he was r ou the noo, yer wash ups.” Or MacHennessy : Ah, weel, the puir fellow has na done ony wrang. Wheel's th© hairm in attending a Scottish gathering? Th© Scottish bluid in our veins canna always b© repressed. Gang avva’ hame, mon, to your sorrowin’ lassie.