‘Nae great length, sir,’ said Matthew.  ’Indeed, Matthew, ye need not laugh,’ said Mr. Dale; ‘I have hurt the sma’ o’ my back.’  ‘I wunner whaur that is,’ said Matthew.”  Indeed, specimens like Matthew, of serving-men of the former time, have latterly been fast going out, but I remember one or two such.  A lady of my acquaintance had one named John in her house at Portobello.  I remember how my modern ideas were offended by John’s familiarity when waiting at table.  “Some more wine, John,” said his mistress.  “There’s some i’ the bottle, mem,” said John.  A little after, “Mend the fire, John.”  “The fire’s weel eneuch, mem,” replied the impracticable John.  Another “John” of my acquaintance was in the family of Mrs. Campbell of Ardnave, mother of the Princess Polignac and the Hon. Mrs. Archibald Macdonald.  A young lady visiting in the family asked John at dinner for a potato.  John made no response.  The request was repeated; when John, putting his mouth to her ear, said, very audibly, “There’s jist twa in the dish, and they maun be keepit for the strangers.”

The following was sent me by a kind correspondent—­a learned Professor in India—­as a sample of squabbling between Scottish servants.  A mistress observing something peculiar in her maid’s manner, addressed her, “Dear me, Tibbie, what are you so snappish about, that you go knocking the things as you dust them?” “Ou, mem, it’s Jock.”  “Well, what has Jock been doing?” “Ou (with an indescribable, but easily imaginable toss of the head), he was angry at me, an’ misca’d me, an’ I said I was juist as the Lord had made me, an’——­” “Well, Tibbie?” “An’ he said the Lord could hae had little to dae whan he made me.”  The idea of Tibbie being the work of an idle moment was one, the deliciousness of which was not likely to be relished by the lassie.

The following characteristic anecdote of a Highland servant I have received from the same correspondent.  An English gentleman, travelling in the Highlands, was rather late of coming down to dinner.  Donald was sent up stairs to intimate that all was ready.  He speedily returned, nodding significantly, as much as to say that it was all right.  “But, Donald,” said the master, after some further trial of a hungry man’s patience, “are ye sure ye made the gentleman understand?” “Understand?” retorted Donald (who had peeped into the room and found the guest engaged at his toilet), “I’se warrant ye he understands; he’s sharping his teeth,”—­not supposing the tooth-brush could be for any other use.

There have been some very amusing instances given of the matter-of-fact obedience paid to orders by Highland retainers when made to perform the ordinary duties of domestic servants; as when Mr. Campbell, a Highland gentleman, visiting in a country house, and telling Donald to bring everything out of the bedroom, found all its movable articles—­fender, fire-irons, etc.—­piled up in the lobby; so literal was the poor man’s sense of obedience