Part 21 (2/2)

Lord Eldon, who was well known by the nick-name ”Old Bags,” in one of his sporting excursions, unexpectedly came across a person who was sporting over his land without leave. His lords.h.i.+p inquired if the stranger was aware he was trespa.s.sing, or if he knew to whom the estate belonged? ”What's that to do with you?” was the reply. ”I suppose you are one of Old Bags' keepers.” ”No,” replied his lords.h.i.+p, ”I am Old Bags himself.”

=A Poem for the Future=

The late Dr. Jamieson, the Scottish lexicographer, was vain of his literary reputation, and, like many others who knew not where their great strength lies, thought himself gifted with a kind of intellectual able-to-do-everything. The doctor published a poem, ent.i.tled ”Eternity.”

This poem became the subject of conversational remark, soon after publication, at a party where the doctor was present, and a lady was asked her opinion of it. ”It's a bonny poem,” said she, ”and it's weel named Eternity, for it will ne'er be read in time.”

=A Badly Arranged Prayer=

A Presbyterian minister in the reign of King William III, performing public wors.h.i.+p in the Tron Church at Edinburgh, used this remarkable expression in his prayer: ”Lord, have mercy upon all fools and idiots, and particularly upon the Town Council of Edinburgh.” [9]

=Simplicity of a Collier's Wife=

A clergyman in a mining village not far from Riccarton, in the course of his pastoral visits, called at the domicile of a collier in his parish.

Inquiring of a woman he saw, and whom he presumed to be his wife, if her husband was at home, she said: ”Deed, na, sir; he's at his work.”

”Is your husband, my good woman, a communicant?”

”A communicant! He's naething o' the kind. He's just a collier.”

Astonished at the ignorance displayed, the clergyman could not help ejaculating: ”Oh, what darkness!”

The collier's wife understanding the language literally, not figuratively, was also astonished.

”Darkness! Little ye ken o't. Had you been here before we got the extra window in the gable ye would scarcely been able to see your finger afore you.”

The pastor sighed.

”I must, my dear woman, put up a pet.i.tion for you here.”

”Pet.i.tion--pet.i.tion! Bide a wee. Nae pet.i.tion (part.i.tion) will ye put up here sae lang as I am in the house; but at the term we're going ower to Newdiggings, and then ye may put as many o' them as ye like.”

=A Scotch ”Supply”=

Many good stories have been told of the beadles of the Scottish churches. The latest is as good as any: One Sabbath morning when a minister of an Ayrs.h.i.+re Established Church was about to enter the pulpit, he found that John, the precentor, had not arrived. He instructed the beadle, who was also bellman, to ring for five minutes longer while they waited to see if John came.

When he returned, the minister inquired: ”Has John come yet?”

”No, sir,” answered the beadle.

”Most extraordinary! What are we to do? I see no help for it, but you must take John's place yourself for a day.”

”Ah, no, sir,” replied the beadle, ”I couldna dae that. Aiblins I could tak' _your_ place, but I couldna tak' John's.”

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