SOME GOOD HOLIDAY STORIES.

Northland Age, Volume 2, Issue 43, 5 June 1906, Page 2

SOME GOOD HOLIDAY STORIES.

Holiday fun usually starts at the railway station ; where* it ends is—as Rudyard Kipling would say—another story. An excellent example of this was provided at the Waverly Station, Edinburgh, on a recent holiday morning, when an elderly and portly gentleman forced his way up to the ticket-box and asked : "Twa tickets and twa haufs for St.—St. . Confusion ! I've forgot whaur we’re gaun. It’s nae St. Johnson ; but it's something awfu' like it. Hey, Kirsty," he shouted to his wife, who stood, surrounded by "bairns p.nd bundles," away on the outskirts of the crowd, "whaur are we gaun, again ?" "St. Boswell’s, ye gouk," cried Kirsty, perspiring from excitement. "St. Boswell’s. Ay, ay, that’s it. I kent Jit was conneckit wi' Dickson's Johnsonary some wey." Then, turning to the clerk, he said : "Come, awa,' noo, my mannie, Wi' twa’ tickets an' twa haufs." "You may have the tickets, but we don’t sell "haufs" here. If y<ou want refreshments kindly go to the refreshment bar,” observed the clerk, drily.

"I'm thinking, my mannie,” retorted the now irate holiday-maker, "if ye kent as much aboot yer business as ye appear to dae aboot whisky ye'd hae been a stationmaster lang ere noo.”

Even in an age like the present thero are still few people whose knowledge of railway travelling, etc. is very, very limited, and apt to open up new vistas of refreshing amusement. Of such was an old woman from the moorland parts of Aberdeenshire parish. It was her first holiday excursion, and she entered the compartment of a railway carriage with much trepidation, and sat down rather gingerly in one of the corner seats, just as the train was getting into motion the engine gave a shrill scream, or whistle. Thereupon up jumped the old woman, and, with a startled ejaculation, exclaimed : "There they are noo, ower a pig at the very start !" A tourist arrived at a Highland village, and was surprised to learn that there was not a 'doctor within thirty miles. "But how do you do,” he asked an old woman, "when any of you folks are taken ill ?." .

"Oh," said she, "we jist gie them a gless o' whisky." "But if that does them no good ?" "Jist gie them anither ane." "And if that does them no good?" "Weel, jist gie them anither ane." "But even if a third one does them no good ?"

"Oh, weel, if three gless 0' guid whisky disna cure them, they’re gaun tae dee onywey,"