Take an example of a story where there is no display of any one's wit or humour, and yet it is a good story, and one can't exactly say why:--An English traveller had gone on a fine Highland road so long, without having seen an indication of fellow-travellers, that he became astonished at the solitude of the country; and no doubt before the Highlands were so much frequented as they are in our time, the roads sometimes bore a very striking aspect of solitariness.

Our traveller, at last coming up to an old man breaking stones, asked him if there was _any_ traffic on this road--was it at _all_ frequented?
"Ay," he said, coolly, "it's no ill at that; there was a cadger body yestreen, and there's yoursell the day." No English version of the story could have half such amusement, or have so quaint a character.

An answer even still more characteristic is recorded to have been given by a countryman to a traveller.

Being doubtful of his way, he inquired if he were on the right road to Dunkeld.

With some of his national inquisitiveness about strangers, the countryman asked his inquirer where he came from.