MR. PUNCH’S SCOTTISH HUMOUR

“BACKSLIDING”

The Minister (reproachfully). “Ah, James! I’m sorry to see this! I thought you were a steadfast teetotaller!”

James. “Sho I am, sir. But I’m no a bigoted ane!”

MR. PUNCH’S

SCOTTISH

HUMOUR

WITH 132 ILLUSTRATIONS

BY

CHARLES KEENE, GEORGE DU MAURIER, W. RALSTON, A. S. BOYD, PHIL MAY, E. T. REED, HARRY FURNISS, J. BERNARD PARTRIDGE, JAMES GREIG, L. RAVENHILL, G. D. ARMOUR, AND OTHERS

PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH

THE PROPRIETORS OF “PUNCH”

THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.

Punch Library of Humour

Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo, 192 pages fully illustrated

[5]

“N.B.”

An English friend of ours called many years ago at Inverness Post Office for some letters awaiting him there. They were addressed to the Poste Restante, “Inverness, N.B.” In handing him the letters, an elderly lady who then graced the postal staff remarked: “You micht tell your freen’s that ‘N.B.’ is quite superfluous. Hoo wad they like us to write ‘London, S.B.’? And we don’t think that muckle o’ London up here.” Now, whether we use “N.B.” as meaning “North Britain,” or “Nota Bene,” we shall leave you to guess!

Unless we are mistaken, we have seen more than once in English papers a suggestion that the Scots are a race devoid of humour. “He joked wi’ deeficulty” is, we believe, a reference to a Scotsman. “A surgical——.” But no, we shall not repeat that! Oddly enough, the pages of Mr. Punch, true mirror of our national characteristics, yield an abundant harvest of Scottish humour. Have we not already in this same series made merry with “Mr. Punch in the Highlands”? And we are now to laugh with him again at this banquet of Scottish humour, which by no means exhausts his store. We have already heard that some seventy-five per cent. of the jokes appearing in Punch contributed by those not on the permanent staff come from Scotsmen; so it is a reasonable assumption that the bulk of the anecdotes in the present collection have originated north of the border, even when they tell against the Scot; for it is not the least of his good points that Sandy is able[6] to appreciate a story that does not present him in the most favourable light. No humour in Scotland! Here is

Mr. Punch’s reply!

Let this be noted by the Southerner: there is much confusion as to the Highlander and the Lowlander. Here is not the place, even did space allow, to attempt a definition of the difference between the two races which Sir Walter Scott typifies in Rob Roy and in Bailie Nicol Jarvie. In “Mr. Punch in the Highlands” we have something of the humour of the one; here we have a good deal of the humour of the other.

Of course a portion of the present book would be properly described as “the Scot through English glasses,” and in this respect it is none the less valuable, being the next best thing to that for which Burns sighed—

Mr. Punch has striven to leave the Scot with no illusions as to the characteristics he presents to his fellow Britons. We may gather from these pages that Mr. Punch, as spokesman for John Bull, has detected in Sandy an occasional affection for that whisky which he produces so industriously—and chiefly for English consumption—and that he has noted in him a certain inclination “to keep the Sabbath day—and everything else he can lay his hands on.” Who shall say that Mr. Punch has been mistaken? But we are not here to moralise; mirth is our motive; and if the fun be good—as none will deny who fingers these pages—enough is said.

This, at least, we may add: No artist who has ever been on Mr. Punch’s staff has made anything like so much of the dry, pawky humour that obtains north of the Tweed as did Charles Keene. More than fifty per cent. of Mr. Punch’s illustrations of Scottish humour come from his pencil; and he is ahead of his confrères not only in quantity but in quality—none of them has beaten him in the pictorial representation of Scottish character. The shrewd, dour faces of some of his Scotsmen are inimitable.

[7]

MR. PUNCH’S SCOTTISH HUMOUR

Maxim for Young Scotsmen who are Fond of Dancing.—“Youth must have its fling.”

A Bitter Disappointment.—Being served with a glass of Bass when you called for old Edinburgh.

Motto for Highland Pipers.—“Blow Gentle, Gaels.”

“Breaches of Decorum.”—A Highlander’s trousers.

Confession of a Whiskey Drinker.—“Scotland, with all thy faults, I love thy still.”

[8]

“AS ITHERS SEE US”

[“He is a Scotsman and therefore fundamentally inept.”—The Tiger.]

[9]

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?!”

[10]

“A NICHT WI’ BURNS”

Good Name for a Scots Policeman.—Macnab.

[11]

STANDING ON HIS DIGNITY

Shipping Agent. “Are you a mechanic?”

Intending Emigrant (justly indignant). “No!—I’m a Macpherson!”

[12]

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.

[13]

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!”

[14]

LINES BY A SCOTSMAN

(On reading that an Act of the Australian Legislature against the Growth of Thistles received the Royal Assent)

[15]

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!”

[16]

“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!

[17]

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!”

[18]

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.

[19]

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.”

THE LUNNON TWANG

The Gallant Scots.—As a party of very pretty girls approached the camp of the Royal Scottish at Wimbledon, the band struck up—“The Camp-belles are Coming!”

[21]

A PROMISING WITNESS!

Scots Counsel (addressing an old woman in a case before Judge and Jury). “Pray, my good woman, do you keep a diary?”

“Naw, sir, I kups a whusky shop!”

[22]

PRECAUTION

Donal’. “A’m sayin’, Tam, what for dae ye tak’ yir dram a’ at a’e mouthfu’?”

Tam (gravely). “Eh, Donal’, man, A ance had ma gless knockit ower!”

Alexander ab Alexandro.—(“It is stated that a Scotsman, at Greenock, is to have the honour of contributing a considerable portion of the machinery for the Suez Canal works.”) A Scotsman, of course. Who should understand the desert but Sandy?

A Scots Aunt who’s always on the Sofa.—Aunty-Macassar.

[23]

DISGUISED IN TARTAN

Mossoo has been invited north for a few days’ shooting. He arrives tout à fait—“en Montagnard”!

[24]

Charm of a Scots Smoking Concert.—The Pipes.

Succour for Scotsmen.—If a Scotsman were between Scylla and Charybdis, and puzzled as to which he should give the preference, would not his national instinct prompt him at once to take the Siller? and, when once he had got his hand fairly upon it, we do not think he would very quickly leave it again.

THIS IS THE PROTECTION A PLAID AFFORDS TO THOSE WHO DO NOT KNOW THE WAY TO CARRY IT

[25]

REPUDIATION

Butcher (rushing out). “Hey—ess that yoer doag, mun?”

Donald. “Aweel—he wass mine ance, but he’s aye daein’ for hessel noo!!”

[26]

SCOTLAND YET

[27]

JUDGING BY APPEARANCES

Old Scots Wife. “Losh me! There’s a maun drenkin’ oot o’ twa boattles at ance!!”

[The old gentleman was trying his new binocular, a Christmas present to his nephew.

[28]

“A NARROW ESCAPE”

(FRAGMENT OVERHEARD THE OTHER DAY)

“Well, Lauchie, how are you?”

“Man, I’m wonderfu’ weel, considerin’.”

“Considerin’—what?”

“I did last nicht what I’ve no dune this thirty year. I gaed to bed pairfutly sober, and I’m thankfu’ to say I got up this mornin’ no a bit the waur.”

[29]

SCRUPLES

English Tourist (having arrived at Greenock on Sunday morning). “My man, what’s your charge for rowing me across the frith?”

Boatman. “Weel, sir, I was jist thinkin’ I canna break the Sawbath-day for no less than f’fteen shull’n’s!!”

[30]

“WHOLESALE”

Scot (to Fellow-Traveller on Northern Railway). “May ah ausk what line ye’re en?”

Our Artist (who had undergone a wide cross-examination with complaisance). “Well—I’m—I’m a painter.”

Scot. “Man, that’s lucky! Ah deal i’ pents—an’ ah can sall ye white leed faur cheaper than ye can buy’t at ony o’ the shoaps.”

Artist. “Oh, but I use very little. A pound or so serves me over a year.”

Scot. “E——h, man! Ye maun be in a vera sma’ way o’ beezeness!!”

SONG OF A LONDON SCOT.

[31]

THE CLYDE.—BEAUTIES OF SCOTTISH SCENERY AS SEEN BY OUR ARTIST.

[32]

TOO CANDID BY HALF

Visitor (to newly-married friend). “I was admiring your little carriage, Mrs. McLuckie, so——”

Mrs. McLuckie. “Oh, the brougham! Yes; you’ve no idea what a comfort I find it——”

Mr. McLuckie. “Oo aye! It’s gey handy! We’ve jist jobbit the cab for the coorse weather!!”

[33]

CAUTION

Host. “Just another wee drap ’fore you go——”

Guest. “Na, na, I’ll tak’ nae mair! I’m in a new lodgin’, and I’m no vera weel acquainted wi’ the stair!!”

[34]

“AULD EDINBRO’”

Saxon Traveller. “This is too bad, waiter! I told you we wanted to go by the 9.30 train, and here’s breakfast not ready!”

Celtic Waiter. “A weel, sir, fac’ is, the cook tak’s a gless!”

Scotland for Ever!—Benjamin Barking Creek (thinking he is going to pull the mighty leg of MacTavish). But you must allow that the national emblem of your country is the thistle.

The MacTavish. And for why? Because we grow it for ye Southrons to eat!

[Exit B. B. C.

[35]

“BENEATH THE LOWEST DEEP”

Swell. “Ah, Port-ar, is this twain—ah—composed entirely of second-class cawwiages?!”

Glasgow Porter. “Na, na, man, there’s a wheen third-cless anes further forrit there!!”

[36]

At Redrufus Castle.—The Duchess of Stony Cross (to Mrs. MacShoddy, who is returning a duty call). The Duke has actually consented to be Mayor of Crankborough in succession to poor Mr. Slitt.

Mrs. MacShoddy. Well! that’ll be very nice for you! You’re sure to be invited to the Mansion House in London during the season!

A Scot on Sweet Sounds.—A’ music whatever is o’ Scottish origin an’ derivation. It a’ cam Sooth frae ayont the Tweed. A’ music just resolves itsel’ intil a meexture o’ Tweed-ledum an’ Tweedle-Dee—the Scottish Dee.

The oreeginal St. Cecilia was a Miss MacWhirter. She invented the Bagpipes.

Rejected Medical Advice (by a Scotsman).—“Try your native air.”

In Scotland, it is not permitted even to whistle on the Sunday. My friend, Wagg, tells me, however, that “you must whistle for what you want.” I remark this contradiction. But they are an obstinate race, the Scots.

[37]

Mrs. Golightly (fishing for a compliment). “Ah! Mr. McJoseph, beauty is the most precious of all gifts for a woman! I’d sooner possess beauty than anything in the world!”

Mr. McJoseph (under the impression that he is making himself very agreeable). “I’m sure, Mrs. Golightly, that any regret you may possibly feel on that score must be amply compensated for by—er—the consciousness of your moral worth, you know,—and of your various mental accomplishments!”

[38]

Jink. “My dear MacFuddle, it’s the very thing you want! Charming house—lovely spot! Cheap, too. But one great drawback. You can’t get any water there!”

MacFuddle. “Oh, that doesn’t matter!”

[39]

REFRESHMENT

Hospitable Good Templar (to Visitor—average Scotsman). “Well, now, what will you tak’, Mac, after your walk—tea, or coffee, or pease-brose?”!!

[Comment is needless.

[40]

THE EGREGIOUS ENGLISHMAN

[The Scottish Education Department, not satisfied with the pronunciation in vogue beyond the Tweed, has appointed a Liverpool gentleman to instruct the teachers of Scot’and how to speak polite English.]

[41]

CONSCIENCE

U. P. Elder. “The meenister needna’ ’been that haurd en hes discoorse. Theer plenty o’ leears i’ Peebles forbye me!”

[42]

Providing for the Future.—The O’Hooligan (to the MacTavish). Faix! but ye seem to be overlapping your quantum to-night, Laird. Has your grandfather jined to the Kensal Greeners?

The MacTavish. That no, sir, but the morrow, gin that nae accident happen, I shall hae the luxury o’ lunching wi’ my bluid cousin, the ex-Baillie o’ Whilknacraigie, a strict temperance mon, wha canna stand whusky. And so I’m joost drinkin’ up to his soda-water beforehand.

[43]

“THE BAR-RD OF A-Y-VON!”

Member of the “Northern Shakspeare Society.” “Man, yon Wully Shakspeare maun hae been a maist extr’o’dinary pairson! Theer-r thengs cam’ entil his heid ’at wad never hae com’ ento mine!—NEVER!”

[44]

Scottish Waitress. “There’s a laddie doon the stair wa’antin’ tae see ’ye——”

Mossoo. “A lady! Mon Dieu! Say her to give herself the pain to sit down while I arrange my toilet.”

The “lady” in waiting.

[45]

PROMPT AND PRACTICAL

Reverend Stranger. “My good man, can you tell me the nearest way to the cathedral?”

Scottish Cabby. “Jist inside the cab here, sir.”

[46]

A SECOND VISIT TO SCOTLAND

(Being an additional Chapter to “The Tour in the Hebrides”)

“Sir,” said Dr. Johnson, “let us take a walk down Princes Street.”

Finding the great man in so excellent a humour, I seized upon the opportunity to put to him many interesting questions.

“Sir,” said I, “pray what do you think of Edinburgh?”

“I think, sir,” replied the Doctor, “that its name is most appropriate.”

“Sir,” I continued, in a fever of anticipation, “I shall be very much obliged to you if you will explain your meaning in greater detail.”

[47]

“THE BILLS OF MORTALITY”

Kirk Elder (after a look at his morning paper). “Poor McStagger deid! Et’s vera sad to thenk o’ the great number o’ destengweshed men that’s lately been ta’en! ’Deed—I no feel vera weel—mysel!”

[48]

A MERE DETAIL

Friend of the Family. “Weel, Mrs. M‘Glasgie, and how’s your daughter doin’, the one that was married a while ago?”

Mrs. M‘Glasgie. “Oh, varra weel, thank ye, Mr. Brown, varra weel, indeed! She canna abide her man. But then, ye ken, there’s aye a something!!”

[49]

A YOUNG HUMANITARIAN

“Oh, mamma, mamma, couldn’t you interfere? There’s a horrid man squeezing something under his arm, and he is hurting it so!”

Dr. Johnson. Sir, I am sorry that my meaning should require explanation. I say that the name Edinburgh is appropriate, because I find the city primitive and beautiful. Adam and Eve would, doubtless, have held it in high consideration had they had the advantage of its possession. In [50] short, sir, they would have called it the town of their Eden, or Edinburgh.

Mr. Boswell. A pun, sir!

“It was a pun, sir!” cried the Doctor, very angrily, and I hastened to change the subject.

“I am surprised to find, sir,” said I, “that Her Majesty does not reside at Edinburgh. Do you not think, sir, that she might use her Scottish Palace at Christmas time?”

“No, sir, I do not think so,” replied the Doctor, “and I can find no reason for your surprise.”

“Indeed, sir!”

Dr. Johnson. Sir, were Her Most Gracious Majesty to dwell at Edinburgh at Christmas time, she would be put to great inconvenience. Her Most Gracious Majesty exhibits excellent sense in selecting Balmoral for her residence.

Mr. Boswell. Sir, I trust you do not call in question my loyalty to the House of Brunswick?

Dr. Johnson. Sir, I do not; I only question your wisdom.

[51]

CAPACITY!

First Traveller (proffering his mull). “Tak a pench?”

Second Traveller. “Na, ’m obleeged t’ye—ah dinna tak’t.”

First Traveller. “Man!—that’s a pety!—ye’ve gr-r-raund accaummodation for’t!”

Mr. Boswell. Sir, if I do not trouble you, will [52]you explain to me why Her Majesty should avoid Edinburgh at Christmas time?

Dr. Johnson. Why, sir, the very branches put up in honour of the festive season would treat her with disrespect!

Mr. Boswell. Indeed, sir!

Dr. Johnson. Sir, if Her Most Gracious Majesty visited Edinburgh at Christmas time, would she not find Holly-rood?

Mr. Boswell. Another pun, sir!

“It was another pun, sir!” cried the Doctor, very wrathfully, and I said no more.

The next day we visited Stirling. We walked up to the Castle, and admired the magnificent view we there obtained of the surrounding country. We next examined the ramparts.

“These old walls, sir,” said I, “must weigh many thousand tons avoirdupois.”

“Sir,” replied the Doctor, “you should have said pounds Stirling!”

“Another pun, sir!” I exclaimed.

“It was another pun, sir!” roared the Doctor, and I thought it best to hold my peace.

[53]

DE MORTUIS

Sympathetic Young Mother. “I wunner ye could be sae cruel as to kill that bonnie wee cauf!”

Practical Butcher. “Weel, ye see, ye’ll no eat them leevin’!”

The next morning found us at Perth. Here we [54]were received most hospitably by the gentry and the people. In the company of our host (a gentleman of the highest consideration in “The Fair City”), we ascended Kinnoul Hill, and greatly admired the splendid scenery.

“A very lovely spot, sir,” I ventured to observe.

Dr. Johnson. Sir, you are right. Sir, I have here found the people so kind-hearted, the city so handsome, and the scenery so magnificent, that I confess it would give me infinite satisfaction were I able to call the town in which I was born the place (as the Highlanders have it) of my Perth!

“A pun, sir!” exclaimed our excellent host, and I could not help noticing that he seemed greatly surprised.