THE DUFFER IN POLITICS.

My country neighbours at Mount Duffer are not literary. So very remote
from this condition are they, that they regard men of letters as
"awful men," in the Shakspearian sense of the word. Consequently,
since those papers began to appear, sometimes, in the pages of _Mr.
Punch_, I have risen in the general esteem. Even JOHN DUC MACNAB has
been heard to admit, that though the MAC DUFFER is "nae gude ava' with
the rod or the rifle, he's a fell ane with the pen in his hand. Nae
man kens what he means, he's that deep." In consequence of the spread
of this flattering belief, I have been approached by various local
Parties, to sound my fathomless depths as a possible Candidate.

[Illustration]

First came a deputation of Jacobites. They were all ladies, of
different ages, young and old; all wore ornaments in which the locks
of Queen MARY, CHARLES THE FIRST, Prince CHARLIE, and other Saints and
Martyrs, were conspicuously displayed. Would I stand as a Jacobite?
they asked, and generally in the interests of Romance and Royalism. I
said that I would be delighted; but inquired as to whether we had not
better wait for Female Suffrage. That seemed our best chance, I said.
They replied, that FLORA MACDONALD had no vote, and what was good
enough for her was good enough for them. I then hinted that it would
be well to know for which King, or Queen, I was to unfurl the banner
at Glenfinnon. I also suggested that the modern Crofters did not seem
likely to rally round us. The first question provoked a split, or
rather several splits in our Party. It appeared that some five or
six Pretenders of both sexes, and of intricate genealogies, had their
advocates. An unpleasant scene followed, and things were said which