Sandy MacTavish was a guest at a christening party in the home of a fellow Scot whose hospitality was limited only by the capacity of the company. The evening was hardly half spent when Sandy got to his feet, and made the round of his fellow guests, bidding each of them a very affectionate farewell. The host came bustling up, much concerned.
"But, Sandy, mon," he protested, "Ye're nae goin' yet, with the evenin' just started?"
"Nay," declared the prudent MacTavish, "I'm no' goin' yet. But I'm tellin' ye good-night while I know ye all."