Part 11

Ill payers are aye gude cravers.

I'll pay you, and put naething in your pouch.

Intimating that a person will give another a flogging.

I'll put daur ahint the door, and do't.

Or carry my threats into execution. Used when in a dispute one person "daurs" another to do such a thing.

I'll rather strive wi' the lang rigg than the ill neighbour.

Meaning that a person would rather conduct a large business himself than be troubled with a disagreeable partner.

Ill's the gout, an' waurs the gravel, but want o' wit maks mony a travel.

I'll say naething, but I'll yerk at the thinking.

He will keep his sorrows to himself, but the recollection of them will make him "yerk," i.e., writhe, or start with pain—applied in a mental sense.

I'll see the stars gang withershins first.

"Bid Iceshogels hammer red gauds on the studdy, And fair simmer mornings nae mair appear ruddy: Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee; The starns shall gang withershins ere I deceive thee." —Tea-Table Miscellany.

I'll sell my lad, quo' Livistone; I'll buy't, quo' Balmaghie.

"If a man have a good pennyworth to sell, he will still find a buyer."—Kelly.

I'll serve ye when ye hae least to do.

I'll take nae mair o' your counsel than I think fit.

I'll tak the best first, as the priest did o' the plooms.

I'll tell the bourd, but no the body.

That is, I will tell the jest or story, but cannot mention the name of the person to whom it refers.

Ill to tak and eith to tire.

Ill weeds wax weel.

A saying common to all nations. "Ill weeds grow apace."

Ill will ne'er spak weel.

Ill won gear winna enrich the third heir.

Ill won, ill wair'd.

Ill workers are aye gude onlookers.

I'm as auld as your auncient.

I maun do as the beggars do; when my wame's fu', gang awa.

Spoken jocularly when a person who has been partaking of a meal with another rises to go away.

"I'm but beginning yet," quo' the wife when she run wud.

I'm flytin' free wi' you.

That is, on terms of familiarity with you.

I'm forejidged, forefoughten, and forejeskit.

An alliterative saying of those who are very much fatigued.

I might bring a better speaker frae hame than you.

I'm neither sma' drink thirsty, nor grey bread hungry.

Spoken when a person is not so freely entertained as he would like to be. Applied generally by those who do not get what they expect, and are offended thereat.

I'm no every man's dog that whistles on me.

I'm no obliged to simmer and winter it to you.

I'm no sae blind as I'm blear-e'ed.

That is, I am not so blind as unwilling to see.

I'm no sae scant o' clean pipes as to blaw wi' a brunt cutty.

I'm no that fu', but I'm gayly yet.

I am not fully satisfied, though I am nearly so.

I'm ower auld a dog to learn new tricks.

I'm speaking o' hay and you o' horse corn.

That is, I am talking on one subject, while you are talking on another.

In a frost a nail is worth the horse.

Because it may save the horse from falling, and perhaps losing its life. A mere trifle may, at an opportune moment, be of very great service.

In a thousand pounds o' law there's no an ounce o' love.

Industry maks a braw man and breaks ill fortune.

I ne'er lo'ed meat that craw'd in my crappie.

Metaphorically, I do not like to interfere with matters which may injure me.

I ne'er lo'ed water in my shoon, and my wame's made o' better leather.

Spoken when a drink of water is offered to a person who is not so fond of it as he is of something stronger.

I ne'er sat on your coat-tail.

That is, I never interfered with or impeded your progress in any way.

In ower muckle clavering truth is tint.

Anglice, In too much gossiping truth is lost.

It comes to the hand like the bowl o' a pintstoup.

"It's been the gipsies that took your pockmanky, when they fand the chaise stickin' in the snaw; they wadna pass the like o' that: it wad just come to their hand like the bowl o' a pintstoup."—Guy Mannering.

I prick'd nae louse since I darned your hose, and then I might hae prick'd a thousand.

Kelly attaches a meaningless remark to this proverb—"An answer of a tailor to him that calls him pricklouse." Is it not meant as a reply of one who may have been under the evil influence of another, and who, having shaken himself free of it, can say honestly that since he has done so he has been perfectly free, however much he may have been under it before?

It canna be worse that's no worth a tinkler's curse.

It doesna set a sow to wear a saddle.

Or vulgar people to wear fine dress.

It gangs as muckle into my heart as my heel.

Ither folk are weel faur'd, but ye're no sae vera.

To be "weel faur'd" is to be good-looking; and the proverb is a jocular allusion to the fact that the person addressed is not an Apollo.

I think mair o' the sight than the ferlie.

I think mair o' your kindness than it's a' worth.

I think you hae taen the grumple-face.

Applied to persons who make a show of displeasure at anything which may be said or done to them.

It keeps his nose at the grundstane.

It maun e'en be ower shoon ower boots wi' me now.

That is, since I have gone so far in the matter, I must go through with it. "In for a penny in for a pound."—English.

It may be that swine may flee, but it's no an ilka day's bird.

An emphatic expression of incredulity at an extraordinary, or what may be deemed improbable, statement.

It may be true what some men say; it maun be true what a' men say.

It may come in an hour what winna gang in seven years.

It's a bare moor that ye gang through an' no get a heather cow.

A "heather cow," a twig or tuft of heath. Equivalent to the English saying, "It is a long lane that has no turning."

It's a bauch brewing that's no gude in the newing.

"It's a bauld moon," quo' Bennygask—"Anither pint," quo' Lesley.

This saying has nothing to recommend it but its antiquity. It expresses the reluctance of a convivial party to break up.

"'Hout, awa, Inverashalloch,' said Galbraith;—'Mind the auld saw, man—It's a bauld moon, quo' Bennygask—Anither pint, quo' Lesley;—we'll no start for anither chappin.'"—Rob Roy.

It's a cauld stamach that naething hets on.

It's dry tale that disna end in a drink.

It's a far cry to Lochow.

That any speaking or application is useless. The person addressed either will not or cannot hear.

It's a friend that ruses you.

It's a gude goose that draps aye.

It's a gude maut that comes wi' will.

It's a gude poor man's blade; it will bend ere it break.

"Spoken of an ill-tempered knife, that will stand as it is bent, or the like."—Kelly.

It's a gude tongue that says nae ill, but a better heart that thinks nane.

It's a gude tree that has neither knap nor gaw.

That is, a good thing that is without fault.

It's a gude enough warld if it haud.

A jocular reply to those who complain that this world is a "weary" one.

It's a gude warld, but it's ill divided.

"It's hardly in a body's pow'r To keep at times frae being sour, To see how things are shar'd,— How best o' chiels are whiles in want, While coofs on countless thousands rant, And kenna how to wair't."—Burns.

It's a gude warld, but they're ill that are in't.

It's a gude wood that hath ne'er a withered branch in it.

It's a lamb at the up-takin', but an auld sheep or ye get it aff.

In allusion to the unconscious contraction of bad habits.

It's an ill bargain where nane wins.

It's an ill bird that files its ain nest.

"Where's the use o' vilifying ane's country, and bringing a discredit on ane's kin, before Southrens and strangers? It's an ill bird that files its ain nest."—Rob Roy.

It's an ill cause that the lawyer thinks shame o'.

It's an ill fight where he that wins has the warst o't.

It's an ill kitchen that keeps the bread awa.

Or an ill master that starves his servants.

It's an ill pack that's no worth the custom.

It's an ill thow that comes frae the north.

It's an ill turn that patience winna owercome.

It's an ill wind that blaws naebody gude.

It's a' outs an' ins, like Willie Wood's wife's wame.

It's a pity fair weather should e'er do harm.

It's a poor tongue that canna tell its ain name.

"'Nane o' your deil's play-books for me,' said Lucky Dods; 'it's an ill world since sic prick-my-dainty doings came into fashion. It's a poor tongue that canna tell its ain name, and I'll hae nane o' your scarts upon pasteboard.'"—St Ronan's Well.

It's a poor world that winna gie a bit and a brat.

It's a rare thing for siller to lack a maister.

It's a sair dung bairn that mayna greet.

It's a sair field where a's dung down.

It's a sair time when the mouse looks out o' the meal barrel wi' a tear in its ee.

It's a sairy collop that's ta'en aff a chicken.

It's a sairy flock where the ewie bears the bell.

That is, a "sairy," uncomfortable, or poor house where the wife commands, "though," as Kelly slily remarks, "there are some such houses in the world."

It's a sairy mouse that has but ae hole.

It's a shame to eat the cow an' worry on the tail.

To "eat the cow," &c., is to overlook very great faults, and make a severe example of a trifling one.

It's a silly hen that canna scrape for ae bird.

It's a sin to lee on the deil.

It's a sma' sheil that gies nae shelter.

It's as plain as a pike staff.

"Na, na, gudeman, ye needna be sae mim; every body kens, and I ken too, that ye're ettling at the magistracy. It's as plain as a pike staff, gudeman, and I'll no let ye rest if ye dinna mak me a bailie's wife or a' be done."—The Provost.

It's a sooth dream that's seen waking.

It's a sour reek when the gudewife dings the gudeman.

"A man in my country coming out of his house with tears on his cheeks, was asked the occasion; he said, 'There was a sour reek in the house;' but, upon further inquiry, it was found that his wife had beaten him."—Kelly.

It's a staunch house that there's never a drap in.

It's as true as Biglam's cat crew, and the cock rock'd the cradle.

It's a thrawn-fac'd wean that's gotten against the father's will.

It's a' tint that's done to auld folk an' bairns.

"It's aye gude to be ceevil," quo' the auld wife when she beckit to the deevil.

A dying Spaniard was being exhorted by his confessor, who told him that the wicked were sent to hell and subjected to all manner of torments by the devil. "I hope," said the Spaniard, "my lord the devil is not so cruel." His confessor reproved the levity of the wish. "Excuse me," said the Don, "I know not into whose hands I may fall; and if I happen to fall into his, I hope he will use me the better for giving him good words."

It's best travelling wi' a horse in your hand.

Simply, that it is better to travel on horseback than on foot.

It's better sheltering under an auld hedge than under a new planted wood.

It's better to drag soon than draw late.

"Signifying that it is preferable to use strong measures in proper season, than such as are more feeble when it is too late."—Jamieson.

It's better to sup wi' a cutty than want a spoon.

It's but a year sooner to the begging.

"Facetiously spoken when we design to be at a little more expense than we thought."—Kelly.

It's but kindly that the pock savour of the herring.

Literally, it is but natural that the bag should bear traces of what it has contained.

It's by the mouth o' the cow that the milk comes.

According to the meat given, or means employed, is the quality of milk, or the result obtained.

It's clean about the wren's door when there's nought within.

It's dear coft honey that's licked aff a thorn.

It's drink will you, but no drink shall you.

That is, a person's hospitality is not very warm. For courtesy's sake he offers refreshments, but does not press them.

It's easier to big lums than keep them reeking.

It's easier to forgie than to forget.

It serves naething to strive wi' cripples.

"'Aweel, aweel,' said Hobbie, mounting his horse, 'it serves naething to strive wi' cripples,—they are aye cankered; but I'll just tell you ae thing, neighbour, that if things be otherwise than weel wi' Grace Armstrong, I'se gie you a scouther if there be a tar barrel in the five parishes.'"—The Black Dwarf.

It sets a haggis to be roasted.

It sets you weel to gab wi' your bannet on.

It's far to seek an' ill to find.

It's folly to live poor to dee rich.

It's gane the thing I lo'ed you for.

It's God that feeds the craws, that neither till, harrow, nor saw.

It's growing to the grund, like a stirk's tail.

Meaning that a person, or project, is not progressing favourably.

It's gude baking beside the meal.

It's gude fighting under a buckler.

It's gude fishing in drumly waters.

It's gude fish when it's gripp'd.

It's gude game that fills the wame.

It's gude gear that pleases the merchant.

It's gude sleeping in a hale skin.

It's gude to begin weel, but better to end weel.

It's gude to be in your time; ye kenna how lang it may last.

"It's gude to be merry and wise," quo' the miller when he mouter'd twice.

The miller must have been more rogue than fool when he thus took advantage of his customers, for to "mouter," as he did, is to take the fees twice over.

It's gude to be out o' harm's gate.

It's gude to be sib to siller.

To be "sib to siller," is to be related to rich persons.

It's gude to dread the warst, the best will be the welcomer.

"Expect the worst, hope for the best, and bear whatever happens."—English.

It's gude to hae friends baith in heaven and in hell.

It's gude to hae your cog out when it rains kail.

That is, it is good to take advantage of any opportunities of benefit or advancement which may come in our way: to "make hay while the sun shines."

It's gude to nip the briar in the bud.

It's hard baith to hae and want.

It's hard for a greedy ee to hae a leal heart.

Or for a covetous person to be honest.

It's hard for an auld mare to leave aff flinging.

It's hard to be poor and leal.

It's hard to keep flax frae the lowe.

It's hard to sit in Rome and strive wi' the pope.

It's ill ale that's sour when it's new.

It's ill baith to pay and to pray.

It's ill bringing but what's no ben.

The meaning of this proverb is, that it is ill to produce what we are not possessed of.

"'Swith roast a hen, or fry some chickens, And send for ale to Maggy Pickens,'— 'Hout I,' quoth she, 'ye may weel ken, 'Tis ill brought but that's no there ben; When but last owk, nae farder gane, The laird got a' to pay his kain.'"—Allan Ramsay.

It's ill limping before cripples.

It's ill meddling between the bark and the rind.

"It is a troublesome and thankless office to concern ourselves in the jars and outfalls of near relations, as man and wife, parents and children, &c."—Kelly.

It's ill praising green barley.

Because it is hard to tell how it will turn out.

It's ill speaking between a fu' man and a fasting.

"I have been waiting this hour for you, and I have had a snack myself; and, as they used to say in Scotland in my time—I do not ken if the word be used now—there is ill talking between a full body and a fasting."—Heart of Midlothian.

It's ill taking corn frae geese.

It's ill to be ca'd a thief, an' aye found picking.

"It is ill to have a bad name, and to be often found in a suspicious place or posture."—Kelly.

It's ill to mak an unlawful oath, but waur to keep it.

It's ill to put a blythe face on a black heart.

It's ill to quarrel wi' a misrid warld.

It's ill to say it's wrang when my lord says it's right.

It is ill or dangerous to speak against those who are in authority.

It's ill to tak the breeks aff a Hielandman.

Highlanders proper wear none, so it means it is difficult to take from a person that which he does not possess.

It's ill waur'd that wasters want.

It's kittle for the cheeks when the hurlbarrow gaes ower the brig o' the nose.

It's kittle shooting at corbies and clergy.

"As for your priesthood, I shall say but little, Corbies and clergy are a shot right kittle; But under favour o' your langer beard, Abuse o' magistrates might weel be spared."—Burns.

It's kittle to wauken sleeping dogs.

It's lang ere ye saddle a foal.

It's lang or four bare legs gather heat in a bed.

Applied to young people who get married before they have all that is necessary for housekeeping.

"It's comfort to hae a frugal woman for a helpmate; but ye ken now-a-days it's no the fashion for bare legs to come thegether. The wife maun hae something to put in the pot as weel as the man."—The Entail.

It's lang or Like-to-dee fills the kirkyaird.

Spoken of those who are always complaining how ill they are, and likely to die; but who, nevertheless, generally contrive to live as long as other people.

It's lang or the deil dees at the dike side.

That is, it will be long ere we hear of the removal or death of a particular person who is a cause of annoyance to us.

It's lang or ye need cry "Schew!" to an egg.

It's lang to Lammas.

"Spoken in jest when we forget to lay down bread at the table, as if we had done it designedly, because it will be long ere new bread come."—Kelly.

It's like Truffy's courtship, short but pithy.

It's little o' God's might that makes a poor man a knight.

It's muckle gars tailors laugh, but souters girn aye.

It's nae laughing to girn in a widdy.

To "girn in a widdy" is to laugh or girn when a halter is round the neck—meaning that it is no joke to be placed in a difficult or dangerous position.

It's nae play when ane laughs and anither greets.

It's nae shift to want.

It's nae sin to tak a gude price, but in gieing ill measure.

It's nae mair ferlie to see a woman greet than to see a goose gang barefit.

"Mattie had ill will to see me set awa on this ride, and grat awee, the silly tawpie; but it's nae mair ferlie to see a woman greet than to see a goose gang barefit."—Rob Roy.

It's nae wonder wasters want and lathrons lag behint.

It's needless pouring water on a drowned mouse.

It's neither a far road nor a foul gate.

It's neither here nor there, nor yet ayont the water.

It's neither rhyme nor reason.

It's no aye gude i' the maw what's sweet i' the mouth.

It's no easy to straucht in the oak the crook that grew in the sapling.

It's no for nought that the gled whistles.

"'I think,' said John Gudyill, while he busied himself in re-charging his guns, 'they hae fund the falcon's neb a bit ower hard for them—it's no for nought that the hawk whistles.'"—Old Mortality.

It's no lost what a friend gets.

It's no safe wading in unco waters.

It's no the burden, but the owerburden, that kills the beast.

It's no the cowl that maks the friar.

It's no the gear to traike.

"'Wha kens what would be the upshot o' a second marriage?'

"'That's looking far ben,' replied the laird; 'my wife, to be sure, is a frail woman, but she's no the gear that 'ill traike.'"—The Entail.