Part 39 (1/2)

_Jenny_: Our Bill. Ou, ay, Wully we ca' him, but I ken wha you mean--he's no in e'en now.

_Tourist_: Wully! what I want is my account--a paper stating what I have had, and how much I have to pay.

_Jenny_: Did ony woman ever hear the like o' that--ye mean the lawin', man! But we keep nae accounts here; na, na, we hae ower muckle to dae.

_Tourist_: And how do you know what to charge?

_Jenny_: On, we just put the things down on the sclate, and tell the customers the tottle by word o' mouth.

_Tourist_: Just so. Well, will you give me the lawin', as I am going?

_Jenny_: Oh, sir, ye're jokin' noo! It's you maun gie me the lawin'--the lawin's the siller.

_Tourist_: Oh, indeed, I beg your pardon; how much is it?

_Jenny_: That's just what I was coming ben to tell you, sir. If ye had ask'd me first, or waited till I tell't ye, I wadna hae keepit ye a minute. We're no blate at askin' the lawin', although some folk are unco' slow at payin' o't. It's just four-and-six.

_Tourist_: That is very moderate; there is five s.h.i.+llings.

_Jenny_: Thank you, sir; I hope we hae a sixpence in the house, for I wadna' like to gie bawbees to a gentleman.

_Tourist_: No, no; the sixpence is for yourself.

_Jenny_: Oh, sir, it's ower muckle.

_Tourist_: What, do you object to take it?

_Jenny_: Na, na, sir; I wouldna' put that affront upon ye. But I'll gie ye a bit o' advice for't. When ye're gaun awa' frae an inn in a hurry, dinna be fas.h.i.+n' yersel' wi' mistresses, and misses, and bills; but just say, ”What's the lawin', la.s.s?”

=Meanness versus Crustiness=

A rather mean and parsimonious old lady called one day upon David Dreghorn, a well-known Glasgow fishmonger, saying, ”Weel, Maister Dreghorn, how are ye selling your half salmon the noo?”

David being in a rather cross humor, replied, ”When we catch ony half salmon, mem, we'll let ye ken!”

=Speeding the Parting Guest=

It is related of a n.o.ble Scottish lady of the olden time, who lived in a remote part of the Highlands, and was noted for her profuse liberality, that she was some times overburdened with habitual ”sorners.” When any one of them outstayed his welcome, she would take occasion to say to him at the morning meal, with an arch look at the rest of the company, ”Mak'

a guid breakfast, Mr. ----, while ye're about it; ye dinna ken whaur ye'll get your dinner.” The hint was usually taken, and the ”sorner”

departed.

=”Things Which Accompany Salvation”=

”What d'ye think o' this great revival that's gaun on the noo, Jamie?”