Pig, in old-fashioned Scotch, was always used for a coarse earthenware jar or vessel.  In the Life of the late Patrick Tytler, the amiable and gifted historian of Scotland, there occurs an amusing exemplification of the utter confusion of ideas caused by the use of Scottish phraseology.  The family, when they went to London, had taken with them an old Scottish servant who had no notion of any terms beside her own.  She came in one day greatly disturbed at the extremely backward state of knowledge of domestic affairs amongst the Londoners.  She had been to so many shops and could not get “a great broon pig to haud the butter in.”

From a relative of the family I have received an account of a still worse confusion of ideas, caused by the inquiry of a Mrs. Chisholm of Chisholm, who died in London in 1825, at an advanced age.  She had come from the country to be with her daughter, and was a genuine Scottish lady of the old school.  She wished to purchase a table-cloth of a cheque pattern, like the squares of a chess or draught board.  Now a draught-board used to be called (as I remember) by old Scotch people a “dam[61] brod[62].”  Accordingly, Mrs. Chisholm entered the shop of a linen-draper, and asked to be shown table-linen a dam-brod pattern.  The shopman, although, taken aback by a request, as he considered it, so strongly worded, by a respectable old lady, brought down what he assured her was the largest and widest made.  No; that would not do.  She repeated her wish for a dam-brod pattern, and left the shop surprised at the stupidity of the London shopman not having the pattern she asked for.

Silly has in genuine old Scottish use reference to weakness of body only, and not of mind.  Before knowing the use of the word, I remember being much astonished at a farmer of the Mearns telling me of the strongest-minded man in the county that he was “uncommon silly,” not insinuating any decline of mental vigour, but only meaning that his bodily strength was giving way.

Frail, in like manner, expresses infirmity of body, and implies no charge of any laxity in moral principle; yet I have seen English persons looking with considerable consternation when an old-fashioned Scottish lady, speaking of a young and graceful female, lamented her being so frail.

Fail is another instance of different use of words.  In Scotland it used to be quite common to say of a person whose health and strength had declined, that he had failed.  To say this of a person connected with mercantile business has a very serious effect upon southern ears, as implying nothing short of bankruptcy and ruin.  I recollect many years ago at Monmouth, my dear mother creating much consternation in the mind of the mayor, by saying of a worthy man, the principal banker in the town, whom they both concurred in praising, that she was “sorry to find he was failing.”

Honest has in Scotch a peculiar application, irrespective of any integrity of moral character.  It is a kindly mode of referring to an individual, as we would say to a stranger, “Honest man, would you tell me the way to ——?” or as Lord Hermand, when about to sentence a woman for stealing, began remonstratively, “Honest woman, whatever garr’d ye steal your neighbour’s tub?”