  [“He is a Scotsman and therefore fundamentally inept.”—The Tiger.] Ah, baist nae mair the bard o’ Ayr That whiles was Scotland’s glory, An’ dinna rave o’ Bruce the brave An’ Bannockburn sae gory; But greet yer lane an’ mak’ yer maen That ye are ca’d a Scoatsman— There’s naught but scorn for him that’s born ’Twixt Tweed an’ John-o’-Groat’s, man. Nae poo’er hae we a joke tae see— Ye ken the auld, auld rumour; We canna taste the flavour chaste That marks the Cockney humour; ’Tis owre refined for oor dull mind, Though greeted wi’ guffaws, man, By cultured wits that thrang the pits O’ Surrey music ha’s, man. Oor manners, tae!—my heart is wae When I compare the races, Contrastin’ oor behaviour dour Wi’ English airs an’ graces. We Scots maun hide oor humbled pride An’ greet in sorrow dumb, man— We canna baist the perfect taste An’ canny tact o’ Brum, man. An’ oh! ye ken, as beesness men, In dealin’ wi’ an order, We aye maun find oorsels behind Oor brithers owre the Border. We vie in vain wi’ English brain; Hoo can we mak’ a haul, man, Until we start tae lairn the art That’s practised in the Mall, man? CANDID Tam (very dry, at door of country inn, Sunday morning). “Aye, man, ye micht gie me a bit gill oot in a bottle!” Landlord (from within). “Weel, ye ken, Tammas, I daurna sell onything the day. And forbye ye got a half-mutchkin awa’ wi’ ye last nicht (after hoors tae); it canna be a’ dune yet!” Tam. “Dune! Losh, man, d’ye think I could sleep an’ whusky i’ the hoose?!” “A NICHT WI’ BURNS” Good Name for a Scots Policeman.—Macnab. STANDING ON HIS DIGNITY Shipping Agent. “Are you a mechanic?” Intending Emigrant (justly indignant). “No!—I’m a Macpherson!” Old Scots Slang.—In an old Scots Act of Parliament “anent the punishment of drunkards” a clause adjudges all persons “convict” of drunkenness, or tavern-haunting, “for the first fault” to a fine of £3, “or in case of inability or refusal, to be put in jogges or jayle for the space of six hours.” What was “jogges,” as distinguished from “jayle”? Possibly a somewhat milder place of detention for the rather, than that appointed for the very, drunken. If so, “jogges,” in the lapse of time, we may suppose, having lost its distinctive sense, came to be regarded as simply a synonym of “jayle,” and, as such, now passes current in the People’s English (not to say the Queen’s) abbreviated into the contraction “jug.” Thus imprisonment for a state of too much beer might be described as jug for jug. ILLUSIONS! McStaggert (on his way home, having jumped over the shadows of the lamp-posts, &c., brought up by that of the kirk steeple). “E——h!” (Pauses.) “Ne’ mind! ’Sh no help for it.” (Pulls up his pants.) “Shall have to wade thish!” |
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