hope you're thoroughly ashamed of your _sins_" Now, in
Aberdeenshire _sons_ are pronounced sins; accordingly, to the minister's
surprise, Margaret burst forth, "Ashamed o' ma sins! na, na, I'm proud
o' ma sins. Indeed, gin it werena for thae cutties o' dauchters, I
should be _ower_ proud o' ma sins."

Any of my readers who are not much conversant with Aberdeen dialect will
find the following a good specimen:--A lady who resided in Aberdeen,
being on a visit to some friends in the country, joined an excursion on
horseback. Not being much of an equestrian, she was mounted upon a
Highland pony as being the _canniest baste_. He, however, had a trick of
standing still in crossing a stream. A burn had to be crossed--the rest
of the party passed on, while "Paddy" remained, pretending to drink.
Miss More, in great desperation, called out to one of her
friends--"Bell, 'oman, turn back an gie me your bit fuppie, for the
breet's stannin' i' the peel wi' ma."

A rich specimen of Aberdeen dialect, under peculiar circumstances, was
supplied by an Aberdonian lady who had risen in the world from selling
fruit at a stall to be the wife of the Lord Provost. Driving along in
her own carriage, she ordered it to stop, and called to her a poor
woman whom she saw following her old occupation. After some colloquy,
she dismissed her very coolly, remarking, "'Deed, freet's dear sin' I
sauld freet in streets o' Aberdeen." This anecdote of reference to a
good lady's more humble occupation than riding in her carriage may
introduce a somewhat analogous anecdote, in which a more distinguished
personage than the wife of the Provost of Aberdeen takes a prominent
part. The present Archbishop of Canterbury tells the story himself, with
that admixture of humour and of true dignity by which his Grace's manner
is so happily distinguished. The Archbishop's father in early life lived
much at Dollar, where, I believe, he had some legal and official
appointment. His sons, the Archbishop and his brother, attended the
grammar school, rather celebrated in the country; they ran about and
played like other lads, and were known as schoolboys to the peasantry.
In after days, when the Archbishop had arrived at his present place of
dignity as Primate of all England, he was attending a great confirmation
service at Croydon--the churchwardens, clergy, mayors, etc., of the
place in attendance upon the Archbishop, and a great congregation of
spectators. On going up the ce