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 stentorian voice, and the
last queue I remember to have seen."
A correspondent kindly sends me from Aberdeenshire a humorous story,
very much of the same sort as that of Colonel Erskine's servant, who
considerately suggested to his master that "maybe an aith might relieve
him[186].
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