THE DUKE OF ATHOLL'S SHILLING (1851)
Reading edition
The North British Mail assures us that the Duke of Atholl exacts one shilling a head from every person taking a walk in his ground at Dunkeld. This is rather dear; but the impost would be insupportable if his Grace insisted upon also showing himself for the money.
A HIGHLAND CORONACH
Or Lament over the Acts and State of the Duke of Atholl. After Scott.
He has shut up the mountain, He has locked up the forest, He has bunged up the fountain, When our need was the sorest; The traveller stirring To the North, may dogs borrow; But the Duke gives no hearing, No pass—but to sorrow. The hand of the tourist Grasps the carpet-bag grimly, But a face of the dourest Frowns through the Glen dimly. The autumn winds, rushing, Stir a kilt of the queerest, Duke and gillies come crushing Where pleasure is nearest! Queer foot on the corrie, Oddly loving to cumber— Give up this odd foray, Awake from your slumber! Take your ban from the mountain, Take your lock from the river, Take your bolt from the fountain, Now at once, and for ever!
The sad fate of our only ham.—The pursuit.
A RARA MONGRELLIS
Tourist. "Your dog appears to be deaf, as he pays no attention to me."
Shepherd. "Na, na, sir. She's a varra wise dog, for all tat. But she only speaks Gaelic."
"IN FOR IT"
Innocent Tourist. "No fish to be caught in Loch Fine now? And how do you support yourself?"
Native. "Whiles she carries parcels, and whiles she raws people in ta poat, and whiles a shentleman 'ull give her a saxpence or a shillin'!"
A BLANK DAY
The Keeper (to Brown, who rents the forest). "Doon wi' ye! Doon wi' ye! Get ahint a stang!"
Brown (out of temper—he had been "stalking" about all the morning, and missed several times). "Yes, it's all very well to say 'Get behind a stone.' But show me one!—show me one!!"
Mr. Punch passes a night at McGillie Cullum Castle. The Laird, as a delicate compliment, serenades him.
A BAD SEASON
Sportsman. "I can assure you, what with the rent of the moor, and my expenses, and 'what not,' the birds have cost me—ah—a sovereign apiece!!"
Keeper. "A' weel, sir! 'Deed it's a maircy ye didna kill na mair o' 'em!!"
CANDID
Sportsman. "Boy, you've been at this whiskey!"
Boy (who has brought the luncheon-basket). "Na! The cooark wadna come oot!"
"UNCO CANNY"
Noble Sportsman. "Missed, eh?"
Cautious Keeper. "Weel, a' wadna gang quite sae faur as to say that; but a' doot ye hay'na exactly hit."