show particular respect and attention[185]. After a very
complimentary reception, he put on his white gloves to hand her down
stairs, led her up to the upper end of the table, bowed, and retired to
his own place. This I am assured was the usual custom with the chief
lady guest by persons who themselves remember it. After all were seated,
the Marquis addressed the lady, "Madam, may I have the honour and
happiness of helping your ladyship to some fish?" But he got no answer,
for the poor woman was deaf as a post, and did not hear him. After a
pause, but still in the most courteous accents, "Madam, have I your
ladyship's permission to send you some fish?" Then a little quicker, "Is
your Ladyship inclined to take fish?" Very quick, and rather peremptory,
"Madam, do ye choice fish?" At last the thunder burst, to everybody's
consternation, with a loud thump on the table and stamp on the floor:
"Con--found ye, will ye have any fish?" I am afraid the exclamation
might have been even of a more pungent character.

A correspondent has kindly enabled me to add a reminiscence and anecdote
of a type of Scottish character now nearly extinct.--I mean the old
Scottish _military_ officer of the wars of Holland and the Low
Countries. I give them in his own words:--"My father, the late Rev. Dr.
Bethune, minister of Dornoch, was on friendly terms with a fine old
soldier, the late Colonel Alexander Sutherland of Calmaly and Braegrudy,
in Sutherlandshire, who was lieutenant-colonel of the 'Local Militia,'
and who used occasionally, in his word of command, to break out with a
Gaelic phrase to the men, much to the amusement of bystanders. He called
his charger, a high-boned not overfed animal, Cadaver--a play upon
accents, for he was a good classical scholar, and fond of quoting the
Latin poets. But he had no relish nor respect for the 'Modern
languages,' particularly for that of our French neighbours, whom he
looked upon as 'hereditary' enemies! My father and the colonel were both
politicians, as well as scholars. Reading a newspaper article in his
presence one day, my father stopped short, handing the paper to him, and
said, 'Colonel, here is a _French_ quotation, which you can translate
better than I can,' 'No, sir!' said the colonel, 'I never learnt the
language of the scoundrels!!!' The colonel was known as 'Col. Sandy
Sutherland,' and the men always called him _Colonel Sandy_. He was a
splendid specimen of the hale veteran, with a stentor