  (On reading that an Act of the Australian Legislature against the Growth of Thistles received the Royal Assent) What’s this? Forbid the growth o’ thristles, Auld Scotia’s cherished symbol-flower— The hair upon ma head it bristles, At sic an awfu’ waste o’ power! ’Tis idle wark, as time will show, To root the bonny plant frae ground; For Nature still gars thristles grow Where canny Scots are to be found. What soil so puir but it can keep A thristle green amang its stanes? What land so bare a Scotsman deep Canna pick something aff its banes? As weel keep bees frae honey-pots, Keep cats frae cream, or bairns frae tarts, As thristles and their brither Scots Frae lands whaur goud is found i’ quartz. WELL TURNED Minister (reproachfully, to bibulous village barber with shaking hand). “Ah, John, John! That whisky——”! Barber (condolently). “Aye, sir, it mak’s the skin unco tender!” “AU PIED DE LA LETTRE” Free-Kirk Minister (to his “Elder”). “John, I should like you to intimate that on Monday next I propose paying pastoral visits in the High and North Streets, in which I also hope to embrace all the servant girls of the congregation in that district!” His Wife (whom he’d lately married from the South). “You shall do nothing of the kind, sir! Let me see you dare to——!” [Goes into hysterics! Geographical.—Examiner (to Scots boy in Free School). Where is the village of Drum? Scots Boy (readily). In the county of Fife. [Prize given. Stop Him!—A Scots gentleman puts the postage stamps wrong way up on his letters, and calls it, with a tender feeling,—Turning a penny! Hungry Visitor (ignorant of the nature of this particular delicacy). “Ah, Donal, mon, we ken weel hae the rabbit for saxpence. We ken get twa bawbees fur the skeen when we get back to Glasgow!” Seasonable Weather in Scotland.—(Edinburgh, New Year’s Day.) Sandy. There’s mair snaw this new year than I’ve seen for mony a day; it’s by ord’nar. Jock. Ay, but it’s vera saisonable wather. Sandy. ’Deed, ye may say that, Jock,—fine saft fa’in for the fou folk. CURLING ON THE ICE IN SCOTLAND. HIGHLY CONSIDERATE Little Smithkin (debonairly). “Object to smoking?” North Briton. “Nae in the least, if it does na’ mak’ ye seek!” [As Little S. said, he “cut the old cad for the rest of the journey.” |
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