THE SCOT AS HUMORIST

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19199, 16 June 1924, Page 10

THE SCOT AS HUMORIST

SOME CHARACTERISTIC STORIES. The average Scotsman’s tongue may not lightly turn to jesting, but that he has a keen sense of humour is undoubted. Take the ready wit of the Rev. Walter Dunlop, at one time a well-known minister in the South of Scotland. On one occasion two would-be wags accosted “ Waltei, ' as He was affectionately known, in the High street of Dumhies, determined, as they said, to “ laigle (confound) him. “ Maister Dunlop, ’ said one of them, “have ye heard the news.' “What news? ” innocently asked the minister. “ Oh! the deal’s dead! ” ‘ls he, indeed!” came the swift answer; “then 1 maun pray for two fatherless bairns. There were few more amusing characters in his time than the last Laird of Macnab, who, in his latter days of poverty, was reduced to riding a wretched horse, which gave occasion to many jibes at lus expense. One day, when he rode on to the Musselburgh racecourse, a young \vit greeted him with, “ Goad morning, laird! Is that—looking contemptuously at the sorry nag—“ the same horse you had last year? ” “ Na,” answered Macnab, flourishing his whip in a way that admitted of no misunderstanding; “its no’ the same horse—but it’s the same whup! ” —Village “ Naturals.”— Jamie Fraser, a well-known idiot in the parish of Lunan, in Forfarshire, had a surprisingly ready tongue, in spite of his lack of wits, as many found to their cost who ventured to cross swords with him. On one occasion. Dean Ramsay tells us he was sitting in the front gallery of the local church wide-awake, while around him many worshippers were slumbering peacefully. “You see,’ at last exclaimed the disgusted minister, “ even Jamie Fraser, the idiot, does not fall asleep, as so many of you are doing. “ Eh, meenester,” came the crushing retort from the gallery, “an’ if I hadna been an idiot I wad ha’ been sleeping too. ” One day the late Earl of Eglinton was furious at seeing “ Daft Will Spcir,” a local “ character,” calmly strolling through his castle grounds. “ Hi, you sir! Como back ! ” he shouted angrily ; “ that is not the road.” “Do you ken,' placidly inquired the trespasser, “ whaur I’m gaun? No, I don’t,” replied Ins irate lordship. “ Weel, then,” conclusively answered Will, “ hoo do ye ken whether this is the road or no “ Fat sort of a meenister ha’s ye gotten, Geordie? ” asked one Scotsman of another. “ Oh, weel,” was the answer, “ he’s no rmickle worth. We seldom get a gl’nt o’ him ; six days o’ the week he’s invecsible, and on the seventh he’s incomprehensible.” —Preaching and Prophesying.— Manv of the best stories of Scottish humour have to do with the “ meenisfry, and among them the following will be difficult to beat. On one occasion, Dr Mac Knight, a learned divine, was overtaken by a deluge on his way to church, and entered the vestry drenched almost to the skin. All afforts to dry him proved of little avail; and, as the time for service drew near he exclaimed to his colleague, Dr Henry: “Oh, I wish I was dry •, do you think I am dry eneuch no’o? ” For answer Dr Henry patted him or. the back and said reassuringly: “Bide a wee, doctor, and ye’ll be dry eneuch when ye get into the pulpit.” One day when the Rev. Dr M‘C——, a Clydesdale pastor, was dining with a number of lawyers he caused surprise and amusement by eating watercress with his fingers in a voracious manner. “Dr M'C ,” at last remarked a wag among the guests, " ye bring me in mind of the great King Nebuchadnezzar.” The company began to tiller, but the laugh was quickly turned against the wag when the reverend devourer of watercress replied drily: “ Ay, do I mind yo o’ Nebuchadnezzar? That’ll be because Ini eating aniang the brutes, then.” “ Weel, John,” said the minister of a Scotch village addicted to reading his sermons, to one of his parishioners whom he found reading a chapter of one of the prophets, “ What’s is this you’re about? “ I am prophesying,” was the prompt reply. “ Prophesying! I doubt ye mean reading a prophecy. ” Awcel,” argued the rustic, “if reading a preachin’ be preachin', isna reading a prophecy" prophesying?” . . This story recalls another of a divine whose habit it was to make his old sermons do service again and’ again, at iudicious intervals. On one occasion, nowever, through a slip of memory, he gave the same sermon twice in two weeks. After the congregation had departed, the beadle remarked to him, “I ha’e often heard ye blamed for gi’en us auld sermons; but they’ll surely no’ say that o’ the ane ye gi’ed us this afternoon, tor it’s just a fortnight sin’ they heard it afore in the same place.” Equally outspoken was the farmer who played host to a young minister after the morning service. So hearty was the young man’s appetite that ho felt it necessary to apologise for eating such a substantial dinner. “ You see," he said, “ I am alwavs very hungry after preaching.” “Indeed, sir,” was. the disconcerting answer, “ I’m no’ surprised at it, considering the trash that came all your stomach this morning.” —lll to Satify.— When a young Scots lad presented himself for examination previous to receiving his first Communion, the pastor’s first question was—“ How many Commandments are there ? ‘ * Aiblins a hunner, was the startling answer. The clergyman, vexed at such ignorance, promptly sent the youth away, with instructions to learn a little more before he returned. On his dejected way home he met a young friend going to the manse, also for examination. “ Weel,” said he, “ what will ye sey, noo, if the meemster spoil's hoo mony Commandments there are?” “ Say? ” answered the youth, “ why, I’ll say ten, of course.” “Oh! ye well, , will ye? ” asked the rejected one in triumph. “Ten! Try him wi’ ten! Why I tried him wi’ a hunner, an’ He wasna satisfied!” A great character in his time was Mr Shirra, a life minister, of whom the following stories are told. One Sunday a volunteer officer entered his church, very proud of his new regimentals, and stalked up and down the aisle for some time, ostensibly in feearch of a seat, but evidently more intent on showing off his finery. At last Mr Shirra stopped his sermon, and, leaning over the pulpit, said: “ Man, will ye no sit doon—and we’ll see your new brocks when the kirk’s done.” On many an occasion he punctuated his reading of the Scriptures by quaint comments "which convulsed his congregation; as when, after reading the words from the 116th Psalm: “l"said in my haste all men are liars” —he added quietly: “ Indeed, Dauvid, an ye had been in this parish yo might ha’e said it at your leosnre! ” Equally entertaining is (he story of the outdoor preacher who, as ill-luck would have it, once took un his jwsition on an ants’ nost. The active habits of the little creatures soon made the position of the intruder very uncomfortable; and, afraid that his audience might observe something of his discomfort in his manner, he apologised by the remark: ‘ Brethren, though I hope I have the word of God in my mouth. I think the deil himself has gotten into my breeks.”