_John._ “Weel, meenister, ah maun admeet he’s vera soond, but, oh man! he’s no deep! His pronoonciation’s no vera gweed; but ah’ve nae doobt he’ll impruv’!”] “It juist took a grip o’ me,” replied Tammas, without moving a muscle; “it flashed upon me ’at he’d no stand that auld song. That’s where the humour o’ it comes in.” “Ou, ay,” added Hendry, “Thrums is the place for rale humour.” On the whole, I agree with him. SUNG BY A SCOT IN THE CITY AIR--“_Ye banks and braes._” Ye banks and mines a’ ganging doon, How sma’ the sum ye fetch per share! How flat ye’ve got, ye railway lines, And a’ the Change sae fu’ o’ care! Thou’lt break my heart, thou civic crash, That made my paper fit to burn, Thou mind’st me o’ departed cash, Departed never to return! Oft hae I purchased shares gane doon, When panic bade a’ stocks decline, And waited for them to improve, When muckle profit aye was mine. Wi’ lightsome heart I stored the gain Fu’ safe in the Per-Centies Three; Aweel, when Trust resumes his reign, The rise may mak’ amends to me! [Illustration: DIPLOMACY _First Boatman (sotto voce)._ “That’s only the weeds he’s caught.” _Second Boatman._ “Haud yer tongue, ye muckle sumph! It’s a glass of whusky we’ll be gettin’ if the body thinks he’s lost a fush!”] [Illustration: _Country Gentleman (who thought he’d got such a treasure of a new gardener)._ “Tut, tut, tut! Bless my soul, Saunders! How----what’s all this? Disgracefully intoxicated at this hour of the morning! Ain’t you ashamed of yourself?!” _Saunders._ “’Sh-hamed! (_Hic._) Na, na, ’m nae sae drunk as that comes t’! Ah ken varra weel what a’m aboot!!”] [Illustration: “SHOUTHER TO SHOUTHER!” _Obstinate Juryman (Licensed Victualler)._ “What! Gie a vardict agyen Mr. McLushy? Not if aw sit here a’ nicht! Aw’ll see ye a’ starved first! He’s one o’ the finest gen’lemen i’ the toon, an’ comes to ma billiard-table every nicht, and a’ nichts whiles!”] RIGS AWA’ FROM THE LAYS OF A LAZY MINSTREL Haggis broo is bla’ and braw, Kittle kail is a’ awa’; Gin a lassie kens fu’ weel, Ilka pawkie rattlin’ reel. Hey the laddie! Oh the pladdie! Hey the sonsie Finnie haddie! Hoot awa’! Gang awa’ wi’ philibegs, Maut’s nae missed frae tappit kegs; Sound the spleuchan o’ the stanes, Post the pibroch i’ the lanes! Hey the swankie, scrievin’ shaver! Ho the canny clishmaclaver! Hoot awa’! Paritch glowry i’ the ee, Mutchkin for a wee drappee; Feckfu’ is the barley-bree-- Unco’ gude! Ah! wae is me! Hey the tousie Tullochgorum! Ho the mixtie-maxtie jorum! Hoot awa’!