Rev. Walter Dunlop of Dumfries was well known for pithy and facetious replies; he was kindly known under the appellation of our “Watty Dunlop.”  On one occasion two irreverent young fellows determined, as they said, to “taigle[176]” the minister.  Coming up to him in the High Street of Dumfries, they accosted him with much solemnity—­“Maister Dunlop, dae ye hear the news?” “What news?” “Oh, the deil’s deed.”  “Is he?” said Mr. Dunlop, “then I maun pray for twa faitherless bairns.”  On another occasion Mr. Dunlop met, with characteristic humour, an attempt to play off a trick against him.  It was known that he was to dine with a minister whose house was close to the church, so that his return back must be through the churchyard.  Accordingly some idle and mischievous youths waited for him in the dark night, and one of them came up to him, dressed as a ghost, in hopes of putting him in a fright.  Watty’s cool accost speedily upset the plan:—­“Weel, Maister Ghaist, is this a general rising, or are ye juist takin’ a daunder frae yer grave by yersell?” I have received from a correspondent another specimen of Watty’s acute rejoinders.  Some years ago the celebrated Edward Irving had been lecturing at Dumfries, and a man who passed as a wag in that locality had been to hear him.  He met Watty Dunlop the following day, who said, “Weel, Willie, man, an’ what do ye think of Mr. Irving?” “Oh,” said Willie, contemptuously, “the man’s crack’t.”  Dunlop patted him on the shoulder, with a quiet remark, “Willie, ye’ll aften see a light peeping through a crack!”

He was accompanying a funeral one day, when he met a man driving a flock of geese.  The wayward disposition of the bipeds at the moment was too much for the driver’s temper, and he indignantly cried out, “Deevil choke them!” Mr. Dunlop walked a little farther on, and passed a farm-stead, where a servant was driving out a number of swine, and banning them with “Deevil tak them!” Upon which, Mr. Dunlop stepped up to him, and said, “Ay, ay, my man; your gentleman’ll be wi’ ye i’ the noo:  he’s juist back the road there a bit, choking some geese till a man.”

Shortly after the Disruption, Dr. Cook of St. Andrews was introduced to Mr. Dunlop, upon which occasion Mr. Dunlop said, “Weel, sir, ye’ve been lang Cook, Cooking them, but ye’ve dished them at last.”

Mr. Clark of Dalreoch, whose head was vastly disproportioned to his body, met Mr. Dunlop one day.  “Weel, Mr. Clark, that’s a great head o’ yours.”  “Indeed it is, Mr. Dunlop; I could contain yours inside of my own.”  “Juist sae,” quietly replied Mr. Dunlop; “I was e’en thinkin’ it was geyan toom[177].”

Mr. Dunlop happened one day to be present in a church court of a neighbouring presbytery.  A Rev. Doctor was asked to pray, and declined.  On the meeting adjourning, Mr. Dunlop stepped up to the Doctor, and asked how he did.  The Doctor, never having been introduced, did not reply.  Mr. Dunlop withdrew, and said to his friend, “Eh! but isna he a queer man, that Doctor, he’ll neither speak to God nor man.”