Humour
The Scots reputation for being “careful” with money may have originated from the days when most people were poor and needed to watch their pennies. Many Scottish music hall comedians such as Will Fyfe have reinforced the view – despite surveys showing that Scots give to charity more per head than any other part of the UK.
The Scots have an infallible cure for sea-sickness. They lean over the side of the ship with a ten pence coin in their teeth.
In some Scottish restaurants they heat the knives so you can’t use too much butter.
McTavish broke the habit of a lifetime and bought two tickets for a raffle. One of his tickets won a 1,000 pound prize. He was asked how he felt about his big win. “Disappointed” said McTavish. “My other ticket didn’t win anything.”
You should be careful about stereotyping the Scots as mean. There was a recent letter to a newspaper from an Aberdonian which said “If you print any more jokes about mean Scotsmen I shall stop borrowing your paper.”
Have you heard the rumour that the Grand Canyon was started by a Scotsman who lost a coin in a ditch?
A Scottish prayer – “Oh Lord, we do not ask you to give us wealth. But show us where it is!”
A young reporter from Glasgow was flown out by his newspaper to cover the after-effects
of a particularly violent earthquake in south-east Europe. He filed a graphic story which
opened: “God sat on a mountain-top here today, and looked down on a scene of...” The
reporter got a cable back by return from his editor in Glasgow.
It said: “Forget earthquake, man! Interview God.”
It is said that all Scots have a sense of humor – because it is a free gift!
Why are Scotsmen so good at golf? They realise that the fewer times they hit the ball the longer it will last.
“Have you heard of the job my man has just gotten?” the woman asked.
“The ringing of the Church bell,” said the proud wife.
“And what wage comes with that?” came the vital question.
“Oh, he’s very well paid,” said Mrs MacDonald, “he gets an excellent wage and a
free grave!”
One day Jock bought a bottle of fine whiskey and while walking home he fell. Getting up he felt something wet on his pants. He looked up at the sky and said, “Oh Lord, please I beg you let it be blood!”
“And how is your new Minister getting on?” the villager was asked.
“Oh fine, I think,” was the reply, “but he’s hardly settled in yet.”
“But they tell me he is one of the kind that doesn’t believe in Hell.”
“Well,” came the grim rejoinder, “He’ll not be here long before he changes his
mind.”
The day of the funeral had come and gone and the old widow was receiving a visit of
condolence from some of her friends in the village who were reminding her life was indeed
brief.
“It’s just the way of the world, Mrs McKay,” said one of them with some word of
comfort.
“Here today and gone tomorrow!” was the matter-of-fact reply, “just like the
Circus!”