="After You, Leddies"=

Will Hamilton, the "daft man o' Ayr," was once hanging about the vicinity of a loch, which was partially frozen. Three young ladies were deliberating as to whether they should venture upon the ice, when one of them suggested that Will should be asked to walk on first. The proposal was made to him.

"Though I'm daft, I'm no' ill-bred," quickly responded Will; "after you, leddies!"

="Ursa Major"=

Boswell expatiating to his father, Lord Auchinleck, on the learning and other qualities of Dr. Johnson, concluded by saying, "He is the grand luminary of our hemisphere--quite a constellation, sir."

"Ursa Major, I suppose," dryly responded the judge.

=Sheridan's Pauses=

A Scottish minister had visited London in the early part of the present century, and seen, among other tricks of pulpit oratory, "Sheridan's Pauses" exhibited. During his first sermon, after his return home, he took occasion at the termination of a very impa.s.sioned and highly wrought sentence or paragraph, to stop suddenly, and pause in "mute unbreathing silence."

The precentor, who had taken advantage of his immemorial privilege to sleep out the sermon, imagining, from the cessation of sound, that the discourse was actually brought to a close, started up, with some degree of agitation, and in an audible, though somewhat tremulous voice read out his usual, "Remember in prayer----"

"Hoot man!" exclaimed the good-natured orator over his head, placing at the same time his hand upon his shoulder: "hout, Jamie, man, what's the matter wi' ye the day; d'ye no ken I hae nae done yet?-- That's only ane o' Sheridan's pauses, man!"

=Absent in Mind, and Body, Too=

The Rev. John Duncan, the Hebrew scholar, was very absent-minded, and many curious stories are told of this awkward failing.

On one occasion he had arranged to preach in a certain church a few miles from Aberdeen.

He set out on a pony in good time, but when near the end of his journey he felt a desire to take a pinch of snuff. The wind, however, blowing in his face, he turned the head of the pony round, the better to enjoy the luxury. Pocketing his snuff-box, he started the pony without again turning it in the proper direction, and did not discover his error until he found himself in Union Street, Aberdeen, at the very time he ought to have entered the pulpit seven miles off.

On another occasion he was invited to dinner at the house of a friend, and was shown into a bedroom to wash his hands.

After a long delay, as he did not appear, his friend went to the room, and, behold! there lay the professor snugly in bed, and fast asleep!

=Prof. Aytoun's Courtship=

After Prof. Aytoun had made proposals of marriage to Miss Emily Jane Wilson, daughter of "Christopher North," he was, as a matter of course, referred to her father. As Aytoun was uncommonly diffident, he said to her, "Emily, my dear, you must speak to him for me. I could not summon courage to speak to the professor on this subject."

"Papa is in the library," said the lady.

"Then you had better go to him," said the suitor, "and I'll wait here for you."

There being apparently no help for it, the lady proceeded to the library, and taking her father affectionately by the hand, mentioned that Aytoun had asked her in marriage. She added, "Shall I accept this offer, papa; he is so shy and diffident, that he cannot speak to you himself."

"Then we must deal tenderly with him," said the hearty old man. "I'll write my reply on a slip of paper, and pin it on your back."

"Papa's answer is on the back of my dress," said Miss Wilson, as she re-entered the drawing-room.

Turning round, the delighted swain read these words: "With the author's compliments."

=A Sad Drinking Bout=

The following story of an occurrence at one of the drinking bouts in Scotland, at which the Laird of Garscadden took his last draught, has often been told, but it will bear repet.i.tion. The scene occurred in the wee clachan of Law, where a considerable number of Kilpatrick lairds had congregated for the ostensible purpose of talking over some parish business. And well they talked and better drank, when one of them, about the dawn of the morning, fixing his eye on Garscadden, remarked that he was "looking unco' gash."

Upon which the Laird of Kilmardinny coolly replied, "Deil mean him, since he has been wi' his Maker these twa hours! I saw him step awa', but I dinna like to disturb guid company!"

The following epitaph on this celebrated Baccha.n.a.lian plainly indicates that he was held in no great estimation among his neighbors:

"Beneath this stane lies auld Garscad, Wha lived a neighbor very bad; Now, how he finds and how he fares, The deil ane kens, and deil ane cares."

=Not Surprised=

Benjamin Greig, one of the last specimens of tie-wig and powder gentry, and a rich old curmudgeon to boot, one day entered the shop of Mr.

Walker--better known, however, by the nickname of "Sugar Jock"--and accosting him, said, "Are you no' muckle astonished to hear that Mr.

L---- has left 20,000?"

"Weel, Mr. Greig," replied "Sugar," "I wad hae been mair astonished to hear that he had ta'en it wi' him."

Greig gave a grunt and left the shop.

=The Best c.r.a.p=

A baby was out with its nurse, who walked it up and down a garden.

"Is't a laddie or a la.s.sie, Jess?" asked the gardener.

"A laddie," said the maid.

"Weel," said he, "I'm glad o' that; there's ower mony la.s.ses in the world already."

"Hech, man," said Jess, "div ye no ken there's aye maist sawn o' the best c.r.a.p?"

=A Marriage "Not Made in Heaven"=

Watty Marshall was a simple, useless, good-for-nothing body, who somehow or other got married to a terrible shrew of a wife. Finding out that she had made a bad bargain, she resolved to have the best of it, and accordingly abused and thrashed her luckless spouse to such an extent that he, in despair, went to the minister to get unmarried.

The parson told him that he could do him no such service as marriages were made in heaven.

"Made in heaven, sir," cried Watty; "it's a lee! I was marriet i' your ain kitchen, wi' your twa servant hizzies looking on! I doubt ye hae made an awfu' mistake wi' my marriage, sir, for the muckle fire that was bleezing at the time made it look far mair like the other place! What a life I'll hae to lead, baith in this world and the next, for that blunder o' yours, minister!"

="Another Opportunity"=