THE SCOT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17782, 27 February 1926, Page 1

THE SCOT.

Mrs John Murdoch, of 59, Stewart Street, Christchurch, writes as follows to the editor of the “Star”:— “Enclosed is a very cute wee bit of poetry, and so that it might cheer many a hcune-sick Scotsman would you insert it in Saturday’s “Star,” which I have never missed since my coming to New Zealand a few years ago?” Here is the poem:— THE SCOT. You may travel both the hemispheres, You may think you know what’s what, You may know all creeds and faces, But you never know the Scot. Though he lacks the English smartness. Though he lacks the Irish mirth, No man can hold a candle To the men who hail from Perth. For you'll find him in the tropics. And you'll find him near the Pole, And he’s liko a little leaven For he leaveneth the whole. Sometimes you’ll think him canny. And at times you’ll think him mean, Though It wouldn't do to say so, To a man from Aberdeen. Of his peculiarities There really is no end: a very hitter enemy And a very loyal friend. He’s the temper of a devil, He’s a heart as pure as kind; He’s a Scotsman, and the Scotsmen Lend a flavour to mankind. You cannot change his purpose From whichever way It’s bent. He attains by constant striving And he holds by sentiment. You may try to bribe him from it To find out at last he won’t, And when you think you know him You’ll begin to find you don’t. So he’s very often vilified, Because he’s deep and dour, And because he loves a thistle More than any other flower. But with all his eccentricities He’s full of grit and worth, And the Scotsman, ay, the Scotsman, Is the salt of all the earth. Alfred James Davey. (In the ‘‘South African Banking Magazine.)