ALEXANDER AB ALEXANDRO.--(“It is stated that a Scotsman, at Greenock, is to have the honour of contributing a considerable portion of the machinery for the Suez Canal works.”) A Scotsman, of course. Who should understand the desert but Sandy? * * * * * A SCOTS AUNT WHO’S ALWAYS ON THE SOFA.--Aunty-Macassar. * * * * * [Illustration: DISGUISED IN TARTAN Mossoo has been invited north for a few days’ shooting. He arrives _tout à fait_--“_en Montagnard_”!] * * * * * CHARM OF A SCOTS SMOKING CONCERT.--The Pipes. * * * * * SUCCOUR FOR SCOTSMEN.--If a Scotsman were between Scylla and Charybdis, and puzzled as to which he should give the preference, would not his national instinct prompt him at once to take the _Siller_? and, when once he had got his hand fairly upon it, we do not think he would very quickly leave it again. * * * * * [Illustration: THIS IS THE PROTECTION A PLAID AFFORDS TO THOSE WHO DO NOT KNOW THE WAY TO CARRY IT] [Illustration: REPUDIATION _Butcher (rushing out)._ “Hey--ess that yoer doag, mun?” _Donald._ “Aweel--he wass mine ance, but he’s aye daein’ for hessel noo!!”] SCOTLAND YET What’s a’ the steer? Why, man, ye see, Kinghorn is on its mettle, The connysoor o’ ilka ee Frae Anster tae Kingskettle. We’ll show the warl’ a twa-three things An’ let it ken the morn, man, What way we coronate oor kings In loyal auld Kinghorn, man. There’ll be the Provost, robes an’ a’-- ’Twill be as guid’s a play, sir: I’m tell’t he’s boucht a dicky braw In honour o’ the day, sir. Then, dressed in a’ their Sabbath coats, Wi’ collars newly stairchit An’ stickin’ up intil their throats, The Bailies will be mairchit. An’ next the Toon Brass Band ye’ll see, In scarlet coats an’ braid tae, An’ then the hale I.O.G.T., Forbye the Fire Brigade tae. There’ll be an awfu’ crood, ye ken, Sae, as we mairch alang, man, We’ll hae twa extry pólicemen Tae clear awa’ the thrang, man. An’ then at nicht--why, ilka ane Has emptied oot his pockets, An’ mony a guid bawbee has gaen In crackers, squibs an’ rockets. Eh, but I’d tak’ my aith on this-- The King’ll be gey sweer, man, Tae bide at hame the morn an’ miss Oor collieshangie here, man. Although I’m tell’t in Lunnon tae They’ve got a Coronation, An’ even Cockneys mean tae hae Their wee bit celebration; But eh! I doot yon show’ll be Disjaskit an’ forlorn, man, Beside the bonny sichts ye’ll see In loyal auld Kinghorn, man. [Illustration: JUDGING BY APPEARANCES _Old Scots Wife._ “Losh me! There’s a maun drenkin’ oot o’ twa boattles at ance!!” [_The old gentleman was trying his new binocular, a Christmas present to his nephew._] [Illustration: “A NARROW ESCAPE” (FRAGMENT OVERHEARD THE OTHER DAY)