man playing pipes; two boys watchingTHE HIGHLAND PIPER.
THE HIGHLAND PIPER.
His kilt and stockings are made of the tartan which shows the Clan to which he belongs. In the olden time, each one of the great families of Scotland banded itself together, with its followers, into a Clan for protection, and thus each Clan was really a little kingdom and army in itself.
The piper's plaid, which is a sort of shawl, is pinned on his shoulder with a great silver brooch. In this brooch is set a "cairngorm" stone, which is the yellow stone called a topaz; the national stone of Scotland, one might call it, as it is found there in great quantities.
That funny-looking bag which hangs in front of him is called a "sporran," and by his side is a short sword called a "claymore,"and in the olden time there was thrust into the stocking a dagger called a "skean-dhu." Would you not think he would be cold, with his knees bared to the cold east wind which blows over the castle high up on its rock? But no such thing ever enters his head, for Scotch children from infancy are used to going about with bare knees, winter and summer alike.
"Isn't the piper splendid, father?" said Donald, as the squad marched by. "I should like to be a piper in the Gordon Highlanders, for that is our regiment; and their uniform, white with the Gordon tartan, is the handsomest of all," and Donald tossed his head with quite an air of pride.
"It's just because you are a Gordon that you think so," grumbled Sandy. "What's the matter with the MacPhersons?"
"That's right, laddies, stand up for your own Clans," said the doctor. "You wouldbe a very important man in the regiment if you were the piper," he continued. "When the regiment makes a charge on the battlefield it is the piper who marches in front playing the national Scottish airs on his pipes. Nothing inspires the men so much. The Scotch regiments are the bravest of soldiers, and their records are among the best in the world."
"You remember that story father told us, Marjorie," said Janet, "of the brave piper who was shot in one leg, and who kept on playing and marching until he was shot in the other, so that he could not move either; and then kept on playing just the same seated on the ground, with shot and shell falling all around him, until his regiment drove back the enemy. He was a brave man," continued Janet, and tears came into the little girl's eyes.
"He was indeed a brave man, and thereare many like him," said her uncle, "but we must go on if we are to do everything which we have planned for to-day," and he led the way into the old castle, with its massive walls and dark, winding passages.
Our party viewed the Crown jewels of Scotland, not so many nor so magnificent as those of England, but more interesting, perhaps, for many of the pieces are much older.
The little girls were much interested in the crown of Robert Bruce, who was one of the greatest of Scotch kings.
"We have just finished reading 'The Days of Bruce,'" said Janet, "and that, you know, tells all about the Scottish king, Robert Bruce, and his little band of Scotch patriots, who, after great hardships and sufferings, finally drove the English invaders out of Scotland."
"They did have a hard time," chimed in Marjorie, "but still it must have been fun, living in caves and fixing them up with beautifulmosses and flowers, and having brave knights in splendid armour sing songs to you." Marjorie was of rather a romantic turn of mind.
"I'd rather read about the battles, and how they captured the standards from the enemy," said Sandy.
"I like the 'Scottish Chiefs' better," Don put in, "all about Wallace, who died so gloriously for his country."
They saw the tiny room, not much larger than a cupboard, where Mary, Queen of Scots, lived, and where her son, James VI. of Scotland, was born. It was James VI. of Scotland who afterward became James I. of England, and thus, for the first time, Scotland and England were united under one crown. Later the two countries were called The United Kingdom of Great Britain, and thus they have remained ever since.
However, in manners and customs, and inmany details of their daily life, the peoples of the two nations are still very different. A Scotsman is very proud of being a Scotsman, and he does not like it a bit if you call him an Englishman.
Donald always took great pains to explain to his young English cousins, when they came to visit him, that Scotland had given a king to England, instead of England sending a king to rule over the Scotch.
"King Edward is Edward VII. of England, but he is Edward I. of Scotland, because we never had another king by the name of Edward before him; is it not so, father?" asked Donald, earnestly.
"All the same, I don't know any one who cheered louder than you, Don," said Sandy, "when King Edward came here to review the Scottish Volunteers last autumn."
"Of course, he is our king, and I like him very much," said Don, with dignity; whichmade them all laugh, and Janet said King Edward would feel complimented.
The doctor showed them where they could look over the parapet, and see how steep and straight was the wall of rock on which the castle stood; and pointed out the very steepest side, where he and his brother Clarke once climbed up the rock from the bottom to the top, when they were boys. "And a stiff climb it was, my lads," continued the doctor; "you need not be putting your heads together, and planning to do the same. It was a foolhardy thing to have done."
The children were always greatly interested in the "Dogs' Cemetery," where are buried all the dogs of the regiment, and each time they came to the castle they always looked to see if there was another little grave, though, as Doctor Gordon said, they could not expect dogs to die off so quickly as all that.
"Where are we going now, uncle?" said Janet, slipping her hand into the doctor's.
"How would you like to see Holyrood Palace, where Queen Mary lived?" he asked, as he led the little band down the Cannon-gate, the old winding street which leads down the hill from the castle, through the heart of the old town, to Holyrood Palace.
"Great things have happened on this narrow street, and many great people of Scotland have lived here," said the doctor, pointing to the tall old buildings, so close together that hardly any daylight gets between them, set back, as they are, in narrow courtyards and alleyways called "closes" and "wynds." On one side is the house where John Knox, the great religious reformer, lived.
"Do you see a heart carved on that stone yonder?" said Doctor Gordon, as he pointed out a stone in the pavement. "That marks the spot where once stood the old 'Tolbooth.'"
"Of which Sir Walter Scott wrote in 'The Heart of Midlothian,'" broke in Donald, anxious to show his knowledge. "Father has read several of Scott's novels to me; they are splendid stories,—all about the old days in Scotland."
"And of other countries as well, Donald," said his father.
"When you children are older, you will enjoy reading for yourselves Sir Walter Scott's 'Waverley Novels.' Scott was a splendid story-teller, and his books are famous and read the world over. And this reminds me," continued the good-natured doctor, "that perhaps you young people would like to see Abbotsford, where the great Scotch author lived; and Melrose Abbey, which he loved so well."
"No need to ask," he laughed, as the children gathered about him, with delighted oh's and ah's!
"Well, I had half-promised Don that I would take him there this autumn. Perhaps we can persuade your father and mother to spare you girls another week, and we will all go together. Eh! what do you think?" and the doctor playfully pulled Marjorie's tam.
The children were so excited over this that they were in front of Holyrood Palace before they knew it.
Of course, the first part they visited were the rooms where once lived the beautiful Mary, Queen of Scots, who was beheaded by the order of her cousin Elizabeth, then Queen of England.
Queen Mary had many faults, no doubt; but surely she did not merit such a cruel death.
"Isn't it strange what wee bits of rooms kings and queens lived in? Why, this bedroom is not nearly so large as our room athome, and the little room out of it, which she used as a sitting-room, is hardly large enough for a doll," said Marjorie.
For a fact, they did seem small for a great queen. There was the very bed she had slept on and other furniture of her time. The children peered down the narrow stairs up which had stolen the murderers of poor Rizzio, the queen's faithful friend.
"I should not have liked to have lived in Queen Mary's time," said Janet, shaking her head, and the little girls shuddered when the guide pointed out what are said to be the blood-stains of Rizzio.
The girls would not go near the place, but Don and Sandy went boldly up, and declared that they saw the stains; but it is just possible that their imaginations helped them out a little, for it was many hundreds of years ago that all this happened, and, besides, it is too dark in that particular corner behind the door to seeanything. Some day when you are older you will read about Queen Mary and her sad fate.
Afterward the little party went into the great hall of the palace, where are hung the portraits of all the Scottish kings. They all look alike, having been painted by some bold artist from imagination; which seems a strange thing to have done, does it not? Don said he could paint as good pictures himself.
Again Doctor Gordon led his little tourists up through the "old town," and this time they saw the great school of medicine of the University of Edinburgh, where Donald's father and uncle had taken their degrees to become Doctors of Medicine.
This great school stands higher in rank, perhaps, than any other similar school in the world, and many distinguished men have graduated from it.
"I am going to study there, too, some day,like father and Uncle Clarke, and be a great doctor," said Don.
"I thought you were going to be a piper a little while ago," laughed Sandy. "And it was a 'herd' you were going to be just the other day," echoed Marjorie.
"I don't care," retorted Don, stoutly, "I am going to do something great, anyway."
"That's the right spirit, my son; whatever you do, do it well," said his father, patting him on the shoulder. The children laughed, but his father was very pleased.
ANOTHER WALK IN EDINBURGH AND A VISIT TO ABBOTSFORD
"Thelassies are going with me to do a bit of shopping in Princes Street," said Mrs. Gordon, as they all sat around the breakfast-table one morning.
"We want to buy a present for mother's birthday while we are here. It is week after next, you know," said Janet.
"I don't suppose you want to go with us, Don; lads don't like to buy things," she added, with a twinkle in her eye.
"Oh! Well, if you are only going after trinkets, I wouldn't give a 'bawbee' for that kind of fun. Now, if you were really going toseethings, that might be different," said Donald, eagerly.
"You have not seen the 'Dog's Monument,' and lots of things yet," he continued, thinking it a little beneath his dignity to go shopping, but in his heart really wishing to go, if only he were begged hard enough.
"No one can tell the story of the faithful dog better than Don, so you lassies ought to get him to show you his grave and that of his master," said the doctor, who saw Don's trouble, and was ready to help him out.
Of course this made the little girls wild to hear all about it, so Don had to promise to go with them and show them the spot.
It did not take long to reach Princes Street, which the Scotch people think the finest street in the world. It is a splendid broad thoroughfare; on one side are the beautiful "Gardens," with flowers, statues, and walks, while rising high above is the old castle on its height. On the other side of the street are the great shops and hotels. The shops are full of prettyScotch things. There you may see all the different kinds of "Clan" tartans, and there are a great many of them. There also are heaps of "cairngorms" and purple amethysts, which is another precious stone found in Scotland, and is almost as much of a favourite as the "cairngorms." Both of these stones were much used to ornament the ancient Scotch swords and daggers, and were often set into brooches used to fasten the tartans, as you see in the piper's picture.
The jewellers now make them up into all kinds of souvenirs of Scotland; little claymores and daggers for pins, and copies of old-time brooches, and all kinds of quaint things.
"Well, dearies, what do you think your mother would like?" asked Mrs. Gordon, as they passed by the gay shops.
There were so many beautiful things to choose from it was difficult for the little girlsto make up their minds. At last Mrs. Gordon said a brooch would make a pretty present, which pleased Marjorie, who was so fond of pretty things to wear.
Janet was in favour of a gold pen. So at last it was agreed that Marjorie should buy the brooch with an amethyst set in it, and Janet should get a pretty pen with a cairngorm set in the handle. Don by this time was as much interested in "shopping" as the girls, and bought a pretty blotter, with the handle made of Scotch pebbles, for his aunt. So everybody was highly pleased, and most of all was Mrs. Lindsay, when she received her presents.
After this, Mrs. Gordon bought them all some "Edinburgh Rock," which is a nice, creamy candy, that isn't a bit like a rock, but which just melts in one's mouth.
Then they all climbed to the top of the Scott Monument, which stands in thePrinces Street Gardens, from which place they had a fine view of the beautiful city of Edinburgh.
Don now led the way to the memorial which was put up to the faithful little dog called "Grey Friars Bobby." "This is his story," said Don: "When his master died, and was buried in Grey Friars churchyard, the poor little dog was so broken-hearted that for twelve years he never left his master's grave except at night, when the caretaker of the cemetery took him into his house and fed him. As soon as the door was opened each morning, he would run to his master's grave and stay there until he was taken in again at night. One day the caretaker went for him as usual, and found him lying dead, stretched across the grave. He was buried in the same grave with his master, to whom he had been so faithful."
The monument, in the street without, is in the form of a drinking-fountain, with a statueof the little dog on the top. It was put up so that the story might not be forgotten.
Don pointed out the grave to the little girls, through the railing of the churchyard, and then Mrs. Gordon said they must hurry home, for it was late, and the doctor would think they were lost.
Janet and Marjorie had received permission to remain away from home another week for the visit to Abbotsford, Sir Walter Scott's old home, so one day soon after the young people boarded the train bound for Abbotsford.
"We are now not far from the English boundary-line, or 'Border,' as the Scotch call it," said Doctor Gordon, as they approached Melrose, the station at which they were to alight.
This "Border" land was the scene of countless fights and feuds between the Scotch and English in the old days when the two nations were enemies. The English would dash acrossthe Border, seize the sheep and cattle belonging to the Scotch, burn their homes, and then quickly escape to their own territory.
Then the Scotch would take a turn at the same game, and so it went on for ages. Because of this warfare the Border had to be strongly fortified on each side, and many ruins of these old castles and watch-towers are yet to be seen in these parts.
Much has been written by Scottish authors and poets about the daring deeds of the Border Clans of that time.
Sir Walter Scott could claim relationship with most of the Border Clans, and was very proud of it, and many of the most romantic tales and daring deeds of which he has written dealt with these same Clansmen.
"This is Melrose, now," said the doctor, looking out of the window.
So it was, and the young people lost no time in gathering up their belongings, and ina few minutes they were standing before Melrose Abbey.
Abbey in background; three children in foregroundMELROSE ABBEY
MELROSE ABBEY
Formerly this famous abbey was a large establishment where lived many monks, presided over by an abbot. What one sees at Melrose to-day, however, is only the church of the great institution. The rest of the buildings have disappeared with time, for it is over five hundred years since the last of its stones were laid.
The caretaker unlocked a small door, and they entered what centuries before had been the beautiful abbey church, but was now a ruin, though still so beautiful as to be the marvel of all who see it. It was here that Sir Walter often came, and Doctor Gordon showed the children the stone which was the great man's favourite seat.
After a walk through the old churchyard, they strolled around the little town of Melrose. In the High Street stands a very oldmemorial cross. Many of the old Scottish towns (and English ones, too, for that matter) have these old stone crosses, usually set in the middle of the main street, or in the public square.
After eating their dinner at one of the old-fashioned inns of the town, Doctor Gordon stowed his small tourists away in a carriage, and off they went for Abbotsford, chattering most gaily; for while the Scotch people are often very shy and quiet among strangers, they are as lively as possible among themselves.
"Over there, not far away, is Kelso," said Doctor Gordon, pointing over the rolling hills. "It has been called the most beautiful town in Scotland, but you know we Scots all think our own town the handsomest. Eh, lassies?" laughed the doctor.
"There is Abbotsford now," said Mrs. Gordon, and the children looked eagerly atthe big stone house and the "silvery Tweed" which flows by its gardens and lawns.
The place is still the property of a member of the Scott family.
Our little party were shown many of the rooms where the great author lived and wrote, and they also saw many curious and beautiful things, for Sir Walter loved to collect relics of his country. Don was greatly interested in the sword and other belongings of therealRob Roy, and the picture of Scott's favourite dog, for he was a great lover of dogs.
But time was short, and so our travellers had to hurry away, for they were to take a drive to Dryburgh Abbey, situated a few miles away.
This is another old ruined abbey. It is here that Sir Walter Scott is buried. There are only a few walls of the abbey still standing, and where the old abbey church formerly stood is now a garden set about with walks and trees.In one of the ruined aisles of the church which stands in one corner of this garden can be seen the tomb of Scott and the other members of his family.
The children went back to Edinburgh tired, but happy, after a day which they will never forget.
THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS
Therewas a great bustle and running about at the Gordon house one morning. Doctor and Mrs. Gordon, Don, and Sandy were leaving for their visit to Skylemore, Uncle Alan's home in the Highlands.
Don was torn between the delight of going, and the sorrow at having to leave "Rob Roy" behind. He had begged to be allowed to take him, but it was decided that "Rob" was too young to travel, and Sandy's mother promised to take care of him. So that the only thing that marred Don's pleasure was the last look of "doggie," whining sadly in Mrs. MacPherson's arms, as the carriage drove away.
But even "Rob Roy" was forgotten for themoment, when they all stood on the platform of the great Waverley Station. There were crowds of people about, all bound for the country. Hunting parties, with their guns and dogs, were everywhere; for the autumn is the season for shooting grouse over the Scotch moors. Everybody was greatly excited, the dogs as much as anybody. Sandy said that they seemed to know that they were going off for a good time, too.
"Take your places, children," said the doctor, as he bundled them into their compartment in the train.
It was a fine autumn day, and there are not too many such days in Scotland; for it is a rainy little country, and hardly a day passes without some rain falling. Not heavy rains, as in our country, but a soft, misty drizzle which nobody seems to mind in the least. There would be no use in staying indoors, for this is the way it is most of the time. Besides,Scotch people dress for bad weather. They are fond of having their clothes made of the thick tweed and cheviot cloths, which, as their names show, are made in Scotland, for the Tweed is a Scotch river, and the Cheviot Hills are on the border between England and Scotland.
Donald and Sandy wore jackets made of the celebrated "Harris tweeds," which have a queer smoky smell which comes from their being made in the crofters' cottages on the island of Harris, off the north coast of Scotland. The "crofters" are those who live in tiny houses built of rough stone, and their principal occupation and industry is the weaving of this coarse cloth, from wool, by hand, as they sit before their peat fires. For this reason the genuine Harris tweed always smells smoky.
"Sandy, what on earth have you got in that bundle that you have been carrying socarefully ever since we left home?" asked Donald.
"Hush!" said Sandy, giving him a violent kick.
"Don't you want to put your package in the luggage-rack?" said Doctor Gordon, looking over the top of his morning paper.
"No, thank you, sir," said Sandy, growing very red, "it's no trouble to carry."
"I do believe there is something moving about in it," cried Donald, getting more curious and moving nearer. Another kick came from Sandy. But just then the train began to cross the great Firth of Forth bridge, and everything else was forgotten as they all put their heads out to see this wonderful bridge, nearly a mile and a half long.
"Can't you see a castle yonder?" said Doctor Gordon, presently. The boys were on the lookout, and Don soon spied it on its high hill rising above the trees.
"That is Stirling Castle, and next to Edinburgh Castle it is probably the most famous in Scotland," said Doctor Gordon. "Many stirring deeds and brave battles have taken place there in the past."
"Castles were always built on high hills, were they not?" asked Donald.
"Yes, so that they could be more easily protected, and also that a watch could be kept over many miles of country, in order to guard against any surprise by an enemy.
"Over yonder lies the Field of Bannockburn, where was fought one of the greatest battles in the history of Scotland, when Robert Bruce defeated the English, and broke their power in Scotland."
Doctor Gordon pointed out many other historic spots as they were whirled along. Soon the scenery became more wild and beautiful; and they passed lovely rolling hills covered with purple heather, forests, and abackground of distant mountains. In a few minutes the train was drawing in to Skylemore Station.
"There's the break now," shouted Don, "and Andy Maclose driving; and there's Uncle Alan and the lassies."
Such a welcome as they all got! Then everybody packed themselves into the big break, or carryall, and the trunks and bags were all piled into a cart, all except Sandy's parcel, which he stoutly refused to part with for a moment.
Then they drove off, everybody trying to talk at the same time. The young people were full of the birthday party which was to be the next day.
A drive of a few miles brought them to Skylemore, where Aunt Jessie was waiting for them at the door, and soon they were enjoying a good tea around a blazing fire in the big hall.
The next morning the birthday celebration began at the breakfast-table, where all of Marjorie's presents were spread out around her plate. Marjorie herself was so excited that she could hardly open the parcels, and Mrs. Lindsay had to help her.
There was a nice writing-desk from her father, and a silver inkstand from her mother; a pretty pen-holder from her aunt, and a pearl pin from her uncle. Donald had brought her a dear little silver bracelet, engraved with the words "Dinna forget."
"Why, this is the package that Sandy brought with him," said Donald, after all the others had been opened and examined; "it was for Marjorie all the time."
So it was, and when Marjorie opened it what do you suppose gravely walked out? Sandy's one, little, fluffy "tewky" that he was so proud of! Such a shout of laughter as went up from everybody! Marjorie wasdelighted, for she had so often admired Sandy's pet, and its accomplishments.
"To think, Sandy, that you brought it all the way, and never told us what you had," said Don, as soon as he could speak for laughing. "I did hear something 'cheep,' though."
After Marjorie had thanked everybody for her presents the merry crowd of young people finished their breakfasts, put the "tewky" in a basket with something to eat, and all went out for a walk.
First they went down through the little village of Skylemore, where the village people gave the children a hearty greeting and asked after the "Laird," as they called Mr. Lindsay, which is the way the country-folk always speak of the owner of a large estate.
The little girls were great favourites in the village, and Marjorie stopped to tell everybody about her presents.
"Let's go up on the moor and around by Allan Water," said Janet. So they climbed up over the hills, hiding from each other in the deep purple heather, and playing that they were lost.
"There's 'Auld Wullie,' the 'herd,'" suddenly called out Donald. "Herd" with the Scotch means a shepherd. And sure enough there was "Auld Wullie" sitting on a rock wrapped in his plaid,—a small black and white check,—which is the kind generally worn by the shepherds, and has so come to be known as "shepherd's plaid."
Around him were his sheep, which were carefully watched by three fine collie dogs, who marched around the flock, and kept them in order, as an officer does his soldiers. "Auld Wullie" was a great friend of the children, who never tired of hearing his tales of sheep-dogs and shepherds, and their lonely lives on the moors and hillsides. "Auld Wullie" wasa descendant of an old Highland shepherd family, who always among themselves spoke the old Gaelic tongue, and it was great fun for the children to get him to address them in the tongue of his forefathers. Gaelic is even yet much spoken in the north of Scotland.
One of "Auld Wullie's" great stories was how Dindie, his old collie, had won the prize at a sheep-dogs' contest. These matches are held in different parts of Scotland, and the dog who can handle his sheep the best wins the prize. It is a great event in the particular neighbourhood where the contest is held, and only the best trained dogs are entered.
"An' it's the lassie's birthday. Ay, but she's a braw lassie now," said the herd, as they tramped over to his cottage not far away.
It was a tiny cottage of rough stones, witha roof also made of flat stones, and a large enclosure at the back for the sheep. There were only two rooms, but "Auld Wullie" asked them into the front one, which the country people call the "ben room," and for a moment went himself into the back one, which they call the "but room." Presently he came back with something in his hand, and as the party left the little house, he turned to Marjorie, and said: "Just a wee giftie for the lassie," and, to her surprise, put into her hands a number of Scotch pebbles.
Shepherd handing gift to girl"'JUST A WEE GIFTIE FOR THE LASSIE.'"
"'JUST A WEE GIFTIE FOR THE LASSIE.'"
These pebbles, which are all sorts of bright colours, are found in the clear mountain streams, and are set in all kinds of trinkets,—brooches, pins, and the like,—and sold as souvenirs of bonnie Scotland. The old man had gathered them in his lonely walks over the hills, and you can imagine how pleased Marjorie was.
As it was getting near dinner-time ouryoung people said good-bye to "Auld Wullie" and the collies, and set out for home as quickly as they could.
The afternoon was spent in getting ready for the party which was to be held in the evening. It was to be a fancy-dress affair, and there was much flying around with excitement, you may believe, before everything was arranged.
Marjorie was dressed to represent a bluebell in a blue dress trimmed with bluebells and a little blue cap on her head shaped like one of these flowers. Janet was heather. Her dress was pale pink, with garlands of real heather bloom, and a wreath of heather on her head. These two flowers are great favourites in Scotland.
Don was gotten up as "Rob Roy," dressed in the Macgregor tartan, which his uncle had loaned him, with a fierce-looking skean-dhu stuck in his stocking, and a great claymorehanging by his side, which got in his way most of the time.
Sandy tried to look kingly, like Robert Bruce, with a gold-paper crown on his head. Altogether they made a very splendid showing.
The children had barely time to exhibit themselves before the company began to come, a number of their little neighbours from roundabout.
They all played games. Aunt Mary started them off with "Merry Metanzie," which is played with a handkerchief while singing a song, much after the style of "Dropping the Handkerchief."
Another favourite game is "Scotch and English." Two sides are formed, each lining up opposite the other, and an attempt is made to capture any opponent who puts his foot over the imaginary border. This, as youmay suppose, is a game which usually ends in a great romp.
After this they all went in to a fine supper, with a big cake in front of Marjorie's plate, with ten candles stuck in it, all alight, one for each year of her age. After the young folks had eaten much more than was good for them, there was dancing, and somebody said: "Let's have a 'Sword Dance,' and a real 'Highland Fling.'" So nothing would do but that they should get a "gillie" who would dance the "Sword Dance," across two crossed sword-blades, with much agility and apparently much risk to his person.
Everybody gathered in the big hall, and presently in came old Dugald with his bagpipes, while behind him walked a splendid looking fellow, dressed in his tartan, who went through the difficult steps of his dances in a way that won the applause of every one.
Mr. Lindsay took down from the wall two old swords and laid them crossed at right angles on the floor, when the dancer pranced in and out and between their sharp edges without ever touching them, which is a great feat.
How everybody applauded! Then old Dugald struck up his pipes again, and everybody sang the old Scotch song, "The Bluebells of Scotland," in honour of Marjorie. After this everybody took partners and danced the reel, what we call the "Virginia Reel," up and down the big hall. In the midst of it all in walked the little "tewky," Sandy's gift to Marjorie. Where he came from nobody seemed to know; but probably he was lonesome, and being so friendly thought he would like to join the company.
This broke up the dancing pretty effectually, everybody was laughing so. Don tripped over his claymore and fell against Sandy, whileSandy's gilt crown went rolling down the hall. But this only added to the fun, and it was a tired but happy lot of young people that Mrs. Lindsay bundled off to bed, at a very late hour for Scotch children.
SOME SCOTCH CUSTOMS
Ourlittle Scotch cousins do not make so much of Christmas as the American children. Their great holiday is the New Year. On the eve of "Hogmanay," as it is called, everybody stays up to welcome the New Year, with great jollification.
"Do you think that Uncle Clarke will get here in time?" Don asked for the hundredth time on New Year's eve. The Gordons had been expecting him all the week, but he had not yet come, and Don went about grumbling that "Hogmanay" would be no fun at all without Uncle Clarke.
The MacPhersons and the Gordons were all sitting in the library of Kelvin House, tosee the old year out and the new year in. A table was spread with cakes and many other good things to eat, and the children had been wondering all the evening who would make the "first-footing."
A "first-footing" is made by the first person who enters the house after the stroke of midnight; and if he wishes well to the household, he should bring a cake of shortbread with him.
There is always great hilarity at a "first-footing." Everybody kept their eyes on the clock, and Doctor Gordon pulled out his watch every little while to be sure that the clock had not stopped.
Just as the stroke of twelve rang out, all the bells of the city began to ring, and great shouts went up from the throngs of people who crowded the streets, and there was a great kissing and shaking of hands among the happy households who had assembled for the ceremony.
In the midst of all the gaiety at Kelvin House the front door-bell rang. "Oh! there's our 'first-footing,'" shouted the children in one voice, and they all rushed to the door. Who should it be but Uncle Clarke, with a big cake of shortbread in his arms!
"I knew he'd come, I knew he'd come," shouted Don, triumphantly, dragging him into the room. Well, wasn't there a great time! and wasn't everybody pleased!
After this other friends came in to wish the family a "Happy New Year," and then everybody joined hands and sang "Auld Lang Syne," that best known song of Robert Burns, Scotland's greatest poet.
"Should auld acquaintance be forgot,And never brought to mind?We'll drink a cup of kindness yet,For the days of Auld Lang Syne."
Another great event for the children of Scotland is to hear a "Royal Proclamation,"which is a message from the king, read out at Mercat Cross in Edinburgh. It is carried out with great ceremony, and is another old-time custom which has lived to this day. The heralds come in their gorgeous costumes, all red and blue and gold, with a military escort from the Highland Regiment at the castle, and the band plays as the procession makes its way to the cross.
There is a great fanfare by the trumpeters, after which the king's message is read out to the people assembled. Then there is another fanfare blown on the long trumpets, which have gorgeous banners hanging from them, after which the band plays "God Save the King," and the people all take off their hats.
One morning a shrill whistle brought Sandy to his garden wall.
"What's up?" he called out.
"Whist!" It was Don who swung himself off an overhanging branch of an old pear-tree,and dropped down on Sandy's side of the wall.
"There are a lot of the Irish lads behind the churchyard wall; they didn't see me, so I sneaked around the back way. Our crowd is going to be at the top of the street, so hurry up," said Don, in a most excited manner.
"I'm ready," said Sandy, "but we haven't got a bit of blue."
"Here's a ribbon that will do; I saved it off the last box of sweets," said Don, with the air of a general planning a campaign, as he took a bedraggled bit of blue ribbon out of his pocket and hastily cut it in two with his knife.
Each of the lads tied a piece in his button-hole as they ran out by all the back alleyways in the direction of the church.
What was it all about? Well, it was St. Patrick's Day, the seventeenth of March, and when any of the Scotch and Irish lads met onthat day, there was bound to be a battle between them. The Irish boys wore green ribbons, and the Scotch boys blue ones.
This is one of the many old customs which still go on in some parts, though probably not many know just why it has survived; and the boys themselves perhaps never stop to realize that it is an old custom, and do not care what its origin may have been, so long as it furnishes them some fun and no serious hurts come of it. On one occasion Don came home after the fray with a big bump on the side of his head which had frightened his mother, but at which the doctor laughed, and said a few knocks like that wouldn't hurt any lad. As for Donald, he gloried in going around and showing off his injury, his head meanwhile wrapped in a great poultice. For this he was quite a hero in the eyes of his playmates.
To-day the Scotch line of battle was preparing to move from its position when our ladscame up panting and breathless. The idea was to surprise the Irish boys entrenched behind the churchyard wall, who were guarding themselves only against an attack which they expected to come from an entirely different direction.
Our little Scotch band crept carefully along, taking advantage of the shelter of every wall and tree. They had drawn up in the rear of the enemy, and were just gathering their forces for an onslaught, when a head popped round the angle of the wall, and out rushed the whole troop of Irish lads, and the battle begun.
First one crowd was driven down the hill and then the other; and so it went on until from sheer fatigue both sides drew off, each claiming a victory; which probably was as good a way of deciding it as any, for it is very hard to say which are the bravest, the Scotch or the Irish. Both nations have proved themselves fair fighters in the past.
The next day Sandy and Don were seen playing games with some of the enemy, so it is seen no hard feelings came from the encounter.
Donald and Sandy always enjoyed the fun of egg-rolling at Easter, which is much the same kind of sport that children amuse themselves with in some parts of America, though nobody seems to know just how the custom originated.
Then the children have "Hallowe'en" parties, when they play many kinds of queer games. Often there is a cake in which there has been baked a small china doll, a brass ring, a thimble, a button, and a threepenny silver piece, each of which means some sort of good or bad fortune for the one who finds it in his or her piece of cake. But, generally speaking, the children are most anxious to receive the coin, for that can be spent, you know.
We must not forget the "haggis," which Donald sometimes ate for dinner. It is a favourite old-time Scotch dish, a sort of a pudding, made of various kinds of meat and meal, and put into a bag and boiled a long time. It is not eaten so much to-day as formerly, but Mrs. Gordon always made a point of having it on certain special occasions, as a great treat. As it is very rich, and quite unsuited as a steady diet for children, perhaps it is just as well that they do not have it too often.