ated, and suggested a more reasonable and
provident supply. But all the answer she got from the offended Jamie was
a bitter rejoinder, "Weel, then, neist time they sall get _nane ava!_"
On another occasion a family from a distance had called whilst my uncle
and aunt were out of the house. Jamie came into the parlour to deliver
the cards, or to announce that they had called. My aunt, somewhat vexed
at not having been in the way, inquired what message Mr. and Mrs. Innes
had left, as she had expected one. "No; no message." She returned to the
charge, and asked again if they had not told him _anything_ he was to
repeat. Still, "No; no message." "But did they say nothing? Are you sure
they said nothing?" Jamie, sadly put out and offended at being thus
interrogated, at last burst forth, "They neither said ba nor bum," and
indignantly left the room, banging the door after him. A characteristic
anecdote of one of these old domestics I have from a friend who was
acquainted with the parties concerned. The old man was standing at the
sideboard and attending to the demands of a pretty large dinner party;
the calls made for various wants from the company became so numerous and
frequent that the attendant got quite bewildered, and lost his patience
and temper; at length he gave vent to his indignation in a remonstrance
addressed to the whole company, "Cry a' thegither, that's the way to
be served."

I have two characteristic and dry Scottish answers, traditional in the
Lothian family, supplied to me by the late excellent and highly-gifted
Marquis. A Marquis of Lothian of a former generation observed in his
walk two workmen very busy with a ladder to reach a bell, on which they
next kept up a furious ringing. He asked what was the object of making
such a din, to which the answer was, "Oh, juist, my lord to ca' the
workmen together!" "Why, how many are there?" asked his lordship. "Ou,
juist Sandy and me," was the quiet rejoinder. The same Lord Lothian,
looking about the garden, directed his gardener's attention to a
particular plum-tree, charging him to be careful of the produce of that
tree, and send the _whole_ of it in marked, as it was of a very
particular kind. "Ou," said the gardener, "I'll dae that, my lord;
there's juist twa o' them."

These dry answers of Newbattle servants remind us of a similar state of
communication in a Yester domestic. Lord Tweeddale was very fond of
dogs, and on leaving Yester for London he instructed h