Friend Mac Donald Part 22

who believe little in their religion and act up to it still less."

He, on the contrary, maintained that Christians were no less admirable than their faith, that they followed the precepts contained in the Sermon on the Mount to the letter, and finally that of all Christians the Scotch were the cream.

We argued long without either of us convincing the other, and I must admit that my host, who was a much cleverer theologian than myself, had the last word.

In taking leave of him that night, I was bold enough to return to the charge. "Come, my dear sir," I began, "if we receive a blow on our right cheek, the Scriptures command us to offer our left also. If a man struck you on the right cheek, now what would you do?"

"What would I do?" he said after drawing a great whiff at his pipe.

"What would I do? By Jove, I'd give him two that he wouldn't soon forget, I can tell you!"

I shook hands with my host, and retired in triumph.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Ma.s.sacre Of The English Tongue. -- Donald The Friend Of France.

-- Scotch Anecdotes Again. -- Reason Of Their Drollery. -- Picturesque Dialect. -- Dry Old Faces. -- A Scotch Chambermaid.

-- Oddly-placed Moustachios. -- My Chimney Smokes. -- Sarcastic Spirit. -- A Good Chance Of Entering Paradise Thrown Away. -- Robbie Burns And The Greenock Shopkeeper.

The Scotch may be recognised at the first word by the very strong,[F]

sonorous accent with which they speak English. It is like a German accent with the _r_'s of the Normans. In the North of Scotland, the accent is so Teutonic that one seems to be listening to Germans talking English. The letters _b_, _d_, and _v_ are changed into _p_, _t_, and _f_. The _ch_ is perfectly German at the end of a word, such as _loch_.

_Ght_ becomes _cht_, and is p.r.o.nounced as in the German word _nacht_.

[F] The Scotch dialect has sometimes been called the Doric of Great Britain.

Certainly there is nothing insurmountably difficult to understand in all this; but that rogue of a Donald has a way of eating the ends of many of his words, of running the mutilated remains in together with such bewildering rapidity, and accompanying the whole with such a tremendous rolling of _r_'s, that the stranger is completely staggered until his ear grows accustomed to the jargon.

The English language is composed of about forty-three thousand words, out of which fourteen thousand are of Germanic origin, and twenty-nine thousand have come into it from the Latin through the Norman dialect.

But in Scotland you will hear the people using numbers of modern French words, which are no part of the English vocabulary. These words are remnants of the close relations that existed between France and Scotland in the sixteenth century. They are mostly heard now in the mouths of the older inhabitants.

For nearly a hundred years past the English have been continually borrowing words from us (a loan which we return with interest), but they are words which will only be found in use among the upper cla.s.ses. The case is different in Scotland. There the French words were adopted by the people, and it is the people that still use them, and not the better educated cla.s.ses, for these latter avoid them as vulgar. In a hundred years they will probably have fallen into disuse. It may not therefore be out of place to give here a list, which I think is pretty complete, of the French words that form the last trace of an alliance which has left to this day a very p.r.o.nounced sentiment of affection for France in the hearts of the Scotch.

There were doubtless many others in use formerly, but I have collected only those which may still be heard in everyday use among the Scotch populace:

SCOTCH. ENGLISH. FRENCH.

Ashet Dish a.s.siette Aumrie Cupboard Armoire Bonnaille Parting gla.s.s Bon aller Bourd Jest Bourde Braw Fine Brave Caraff Decanter Carafe Certy Certainly Certes Dambrod Draught board Dames Dement.i.t Derange Dementir Dorty Sulky Durete Douce Mild Doux Dour Obstinate Dur Fash oneself (to) Get angry (to) Facher (se) Fas.h.i.+ous Troublesome Facheux Gardy loo Look out Gardez l'eau (gare l'eau) Gardyveen Wine bin Garde-vin Gean Cherry Guigne Gigot Leg of mutton Gigot Gou Taste Gout Grange Granary Grange Grosserts Gooseberries Groseilles Gysart Disguised Guise Haggis Hatched meat Hachis Hogue Tainted Haut gout Jalouse (to) Suspect Jalouser Jupe Skirt Jupe Kimmer Gossip Commere Mouter Mixture of corn Mouture Pantufles Slippers Pantoufles Pertricks Partridges Perdrix Petticoat tails Cakes Pet.i.ts gatelles (gateaux) Pouch Pocket Poche Prosh, madame Come, madam Aprochez, madame Reeforts Radishes Raiforts Ruckle Heap (of stones) Recueil Serviter Napkin Serviette Sucker Sugar Sucre Ta.s.sie Cup Ta.s.se Ule Oi Huile Verity Truth Verite Vizzy Aim Viser

These are not, as may be seen, words borrowed from our milliners and dressmakers; they are terms that express the necessaries of life, and which the Scotch housewives have not yet forgotten. They prove in an irrefutable manner that the two nations mixed and knew each other intimately.

The language spoken by the Scotch lends itself to humour. Their picturesque p.r.o.nunciation gives their conversation a piquancy which defies imitation. A Scotch anecdote told in Scotch language never misses its effect. Tell it in English, or any other language, and it loses all its raciness.

As I have already remarked, the Scot does not seek to appear witty, still less amusing, and there lies the charm. His remarks are not intended to be quaint, but are intensely so. Their drollery lies in the dialect and the combination of ideas. The Scotch are quick to seize the humorous side of things, and that without being aware of it. Their remarks are made with an imperturbable gravity, without a gesture, or the movement of a muscle.

I fancy I see still the old Scotch servant with whom I was speaking on the subject of a fire which would not burn in my room at a hotel. All at once she interrupted the conversation; she had just perceived, on the top of my head, a somewhat solitary lock of hair.

"Are ye growin' a moustache on the top o' your heid?" she exclaimed without a smile.

My first impulse was to bid her mind her business, and make my fire draw. But though I disliked the familiarity, I saw immediately that the good creature, a bony Scotchwoman of at least fifty summers, had not had the least intention of joking me, still less of vexing me. Her stolid expression, her quaint accent, to say nothing of the incongruous idea that had come to her lips, it all diverted me intensely, and I laughed well over it to the great astonishment of the worthy woman, who went away grumbling at the fire which had proved very obdurate.

The chimney continued to smoke horribly, and presently I rang the bell again.

The woman reappeared.

"This chimney smokes atrociously still," I said.

You should have seen her dry old face as she simply remarked:

"Eh, mony a ane has complained o' that chimney."

The familiarity of the Scotch servant is an old theme. The good humour of the master in Scotland encourages familiarity in the servant, and the fidelity of the latter causes it to be overlooked.

I remember the dinner-gong had been sounded in a house where I was one day visiting, and not being quite ready, I was still in my room. Someone knocked at my door. It was an old servant. "Noo," said she, "it's time to come doun to your dinner."

Scotch wit is cutting, there is often a sarcastic thrust in it, sometimes even a little spice of malice.

You hear none of those good broad bulls, br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with innocence, that are so amusing in the Irish; the Scotch witticisms are sharp strokes that penetrate and strike home.

Lunardi, the aeronaut, having made an ascent in his balloon at Edinburgh, came down on the property of a Presbyterian minister in the neighbourhood of Cupar.

"We have been up a prodigious way," said the aeronaut to the minister; "I really believe we must have been close to the gates of Paradise."

"What a pity you did not go in!" replied the Scotchman, "you may never be so near again."

I might give numerous examples of this sarcastic wit that so often underlies Scotch anecdotes. I will only cite one more. This time we have Robert Burns for hero, and I extract the story from his biography:

The celebrated poet was one day walking on Greenock pier, when a rich tradesman, who happened to be there also, slipped and fell in the water.

Being unable to swim, he would have been drowned but for the bravery of a sailor who threw himself, all dressed as he was, into the water, and brought him to land.

When the tradesman had regained consciousness and recovered from his fright, he bethought himself that he ought to reward his rescuer.

Putting his hand in his pocket, he drew out a s.h.i.+lling, which he generously presented to the brave sailor.

The crowd that had gathered round in admiration of the sailor's heroic act could not restrain its indignation. Protestations were followed by hoots, and the object of their scorn came very near being returned to the water--to learn his way about.

Robbie Burns, however, succeeded in appeasing their wrath.

"Calm yourselves," said he; "this gentleman is certainly a better judge of his own value than you can be."

CHAPTER XXIV.