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. MR. PUNCH’S SCOTTISH HUMOUR [Illustration] 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.” “AS ITHERS SEE US” [“He is a Scotsman and therefore fundamentally inept.”--_The Tiger._] Ah, baist nae mair the bard o’ Ayr That whiles was Scotland’s glory, An’ dinna rave o’ Bruce the brave An’ Bannockburn sae gory; But greet yer lane an’ mak’ yer maen That ye are ca’d a Scoatsman-- There’s naught but scorn for him that’s born ’Twixt Tweed an’ John-o’-Groat’s, man. Nae poo’er hae we a joke tae see-- Ye ken the auld, auld rumour; We canna taste the flavour chaste That marks the Cockney humour; ’Tis owre refined for oor dull mind, Though greeted wi’ guffaws, man, By cultured wits that thrang the pits O’ Surrey music ha’s, man. Oor manners, tae!--my heart is wae When I compare the races, Contrastin’ oor behaviour dour Wi’ English airs an’ graces. We Scots maun hide oor humbled pride An’ greet in sorrow dumb, man-- We canna baist the perfect taste An’ canny tact o’ Brum, man. An’ oh! ye ken, as beesness men, In dealin’ wi’ an order, We aye maun find oorsels behind Oor brithers owre the Border. We vie in vain wi’ English brain; Hoo can we mak’ a haul, man, Until we start tae lairn the art That’s practised in the Mall, man? [Illustration: 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?!”] [Illustration: “A NICHT WI’ BURNS”] * * * * * GOOD NAME FOR A SCOTS POLICEMAN.--Macnab. * * * * * [Illustration: STANDING ON HIS DIGNITY _Shipping Agent._ “Are you a mechanic?”