ingly, he talked of Scotland and haggis, and sheep's head, and
whisky; he boasted of Bannockburn, and admired Queen Mary; looked upon
Scott and Burns as superior to all English writers; and staggered,
although he did not convince, the old gentleman. On going away he took
leave of his Scottish friend, and said, "Well, sir, next time we meet, I
hope you will receive me as a real countryman." "Weel," he said, "I'm
jest thinkin', my lad, ye're nae Scotsman; but I'll tell ye what ye
are--ye're juist an _impruived_ Englishman."

I am afraid we must allow that Scottish people have a _leetle_ national
vanity, and may be too ready sometimes to press the claim of their
country to an extravagantly assumed pre-eminence in the annals of genius
and celebrities. An extreme case of such pretension I heard of lately,
which is amusing. A Scotsman, in reference to the distinction awarded to
Sir Walter Scott, on occasion of his centenary, had roundly asserted,
"But _all_ who have been eminent men were Scotsmen." An Englishman,
offended at such assumption of national pre-eminence, asked indignantly,
"What do you say to Shakspeare?" To which the other quietly replied,
"Weel, his tawlent wad justifee the inference." This is rich, as an
example of an _a priori_ argument in favour of a man being a Scotsman.

We find in the conversation of old people frequent mention of a class
of beings well known in country parishes, now either become commonplace,
like the rest of the world, or removed altogether, and shut up in
poorhouses or madhouses--I mean the individuals frequently called
parochial _idiots_; but who were rather of the order of naturals. They
were eccentric, or somewhat crazy, useless, idle creatures, who used to
wander about from house to house, and sometimes made very shrewd
sarcastic remarks upon what was going on in the parish. I heard such a
person once described as one who was "wanting in twopence of change for
a shilling." They used to take great liberty of speech regarding the
conduct and disposition of those with whom they came in contact, and
many odd sayings which emanated from them were traditionary in country
localities. I have a kindly feeling towards these imperfectly
intelligent, but often perfectly cunning beings; partly, I believe, from
recollections of early associations in boyish days with some of those
Davy Gellatleys. I have therefore preserved several anecdotes with which
I have been favoured, where their odd sayings