A WEE BIT CRACK.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXIII, Issue 27, 29 May 1912, Page 5

A WEE BIT CRACK.

ABOOT THE GRAND SCOTTISH GATHERING.

Come awn in, Sandy, .in gie s a yir news. Ay, an' hoo did ye enjoy yirsei last Fr'd'ay nicht at the gethenn ? Mon, did we no hae a richt fine time o'b? Losh A could hardly sleep last nicht for thinkin' ahoot it. A m atta Jtd ye managed tae come tae wir n&herin', espeeshly seem' ye wisna at oor ither 'Wee Scots' Nicht, nae king syne. Noo, fat dae ye think o wir efforts—div ye no think we hae been real successful, an' A'm sure the co-mittco'll be gey pleas'd wi themsel's. Ye ken A wis a wee bit late o get tin' up tae the ha', hacin' tae wait till the wife got a' her tnmmm s on. ye ken, bit fan A got there A wis gey surprised tae sec sic a crood. Losh, there maun hae been near aboot siven hunner fouk there, and a deckit up braw for the occashun, tae. There wis fouk frae as far awa as Whangamomona and Opunake, and a hantle o' fouk frae toonships nearer hatin. A guid number o' the men bodies haed on their kilts, an' richt cheery an' bricht it mak's the place appear. Ma certes, there wis some braw rm-oots there. The kintra fouk seem d tae hae enjoy'd their cup o' tay, an the wee bit crack aforehan', an A think it wis a richt ttficht idea o the co-mi ttee's tae gar things gang. The ha' wis a' deeoratit wi' lings, an the floorer wis laid oot like a great big drawin' room wi' carpets, tables an cheers. I' the back o' the stage wis hung the crest o' the Society, wi' its motto "Dinna Forget," abnna which Wis the Scottish Standard. On ae side wis the Union Jack, an' on the ither the New Zealand flag, an' the flag 0 Oul Jrelan'; for ye ken, altho' we're Scotch throu' an' throu', we're abune a' patriotic. The stage wis dune up vera nicely by Maester Brocklebank, an' a richt fine job be made o't. tae. He maun hae a fine stock o' guid furniter up in's warehouse tae hae been able tae sen' doon sic a fine selection. Aboot the concert, 1100, aiftcr the accompanist, Miss E. Ross Morison, haed gaen's a tune or twa o' the piano, some half dizzen pipers in a thir regimentals, an' wi' a braw busbio tappit drum major tae lead them, ga's a selection o' the p"pes an'- this seem'd tae bo muckle apprcciatit. Syne we haed a speech o' welcome frae the president, Maister W. L. Kennedv, an' then a guid start wis made wi' "Scots Wha Hae," an' Maister Sargent, V Hawera, wis a guid man tae tackle the sang tae—in fac he couldna hae dune, better. A think Madame Groome WBa's uae a bad soprano singer ava ga's "Caller Herrin" an' she mairch'd on wi' her creel an' basket. She wis weel likit an' wee! desorv'd her encore. Fat did ve say ? Ye likit her "Hunder Pipers" better? Ay, A believe ye're richt, tae. she fair exeell'd hersel' at that, an' wisna bad, eitther, in "Bonnie Doon." A richt winsome lassie, Miss M. Mackay, syne sang "My Ain Fouk." an' richt sweetly she sang, fair touehin' the heirts o' some o' tho audience. Ma certes, bit yon Miss Todd, frae Inglewood, can dance a' richt, yon sword dance, an' Shean Tribhuas wis gran', there's nae twa weys aboot it. Maister Lewis hacs a fine tenor voice, an' could tak' the high notes in "Mary 0- Argyle" in fine style. Miss McNab wis gran', an' onybody could see she wis "A Scot frae the tap tae the tae." A likit a' her sangs, espeeshly "Doun the Burn," an' if her *:Davie Love" didna gang doun tho burn wi' her, he maun.hae ben deaf, for naebody else could hae resistit sic an invitashuu. The male quartette neist sang "Annie Laurie," an' the fower voices blended vera nicely indeed. Bit yon Maister Wilkie is 'a fair character. Ye'll min' aboot me tellin' ye aboot his performances at the Burns Nicht a month or twa back, bit he fair exeell'd himscT on Friday, an' "A Wee Scots Nicht" clean took the fouk by storm seein' they wir a' assistin' tae male' "A braw Scots nicht" o't. The skirlin' o' the pipes heralded the neist item. Which wis a "Reel o' Tullocn," danced by a braw Hielan' chiel frae Hawera, an' a trio o' Scotch lassies frae oor ither necbor toon Inglewood, which toon seems tae lie vera enthoosiastic —for A met quite a number o' fouk frae there. Maister Douglas in's "Real Mackay" tartan, kilt, an' plaid, wis vera successful in's sihgin' o' "Scotland Yet," an' A think ho did even better in "The March o' the Cameron Men," an' ae man'eed tae me he thecht he could a'most hear the men maircliin' fan he wis singin'. Miss Cameron sang the "Bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomond" very sweetly, an' aiftcr that Angus MacLeod ga's a Highlan' Fling. Losh bit he's a richt neat dancer, yon chiel. Syne we haed some uiair dancin' by a quartette fine Inglewood, ae we laddie in's kilt, an' three wee lassies, mon, it wis gran' tae see them. For the hinmost item o' the programme, Maister Wilkie ga's "jock Mackay" tae the no sma' delieht o' the fouk. A think it wis a gran' idea tae wind up wi' "Aild Lang Syne" i' the wey they did, a' the performers takin a pairt, the conductor chiel keepin' time wi's sword tae- the no sma' terror o' some o' the singers. As sune's the concert wis owciva few energetic billies got tae wark an' cleare' awa the furniter an' sic like, wi' which the ha' wis decoratit, an made the flooer ready for danc'n'. The Gran' March wis headed by Maister MacLeod wi's pipes, an' the President took the lead i' the procession, bein' follow'd by several kilted chicls makin' a fine'braw show. Ma certes, A wis surprised tae see sae moiiy fouk o' the flooer for the Reel. Nae doot the practices organised by the; co-mit-tee did somethin' Wards that. Losh, there wis sic a crood o' dancers, there wis scarcely room tae move a lit i' some o' the dances. Every chiel sevom'd tae hae brocht his shank wi'm, an' strange tae, tell, there wis nae great shortage o' men bodies, which is S'C a usual thing at maist dances. The music for the ordinar' dances wis suplpied by Maister Beesley's orchestra, bit ;i' the Scotch dances wir plac'd by ane or ither o' the mony pipers prisent. The dancin' wis iiairt.y. an' wis indnlg'd in by nearly a' body. It wis no licht wark for the M.C.'s, either, keepin' sic a crood in humour, bit they manaiged real weel.

Tae feed, sic a multitude wis no an undertakin tae be gauu aboot lichtly, atf. the ladies' co-mittee haed their w..vk cut not, A can tell yo. Ma certes, fchey deserv'd a' the praise they can get' for the wey thev did their wark. They haed tae toil like Trojans for a lang time, buit they did gie's a richt guid supper—in fac', ae lady remarkit tae mo that it wis the best supper she'd iver haed at ony affair o' the kin' in Stratford. Their helpers, ' wham there wis a goodly dumber, likewise did a guid nicht's wark. It's a fine asset tae a Society sic as oors tae hae sic a fine ban' o' wimmen helpers tae assist at oor functions for weel did they cairry oot their pairt i' the proceedings. A'll be bound some o' them wir tired neist mornin'.

Weel, weel. Sandy, a' things hae tae end, an' Scots' Nichts are no except:ons tae the rool, an' altho' the programme wis oxtendit a wee, the' last dnnee haed tae come, an' their wis a few couples left wi' spunk eneuch tae tackle it. It wis a Reel

o ! Tulloch, an' great wis the hoocbin' an' heigh wis the kickin', for even at chat late (or, raither, early) oor, the fouk seem'd tae some life an' mettle left i' their heels. .Ma conscience, there wis some life an' mettle i' the wey they sung "Auld Lang Syne, mi' we feenished up wi' a richt guid Willie Waucht, for the days o' Aul Lang Syne. . By gum, Sandy, A hinna haed sic an enjoyable nicht for years, an' may it no be lane afore we hae amtrier Scots' Nicht like yon. Dot's the first fime A meet yon Secretar' duel, A maun shak's ban' an' congratulate m —for he maun hae haed a no sma task tae manaige a'thin' as he did, bit he'll be gey please'd wi's efforts, noo, an' no think they hae been a'thegither in vain.

Mon, bit it's gettin' late, as ye say. Come awa lien a' hae a b.t supper an a taste, jeist tae baud oot the caul afore ve gang hame. Fan A get sairted speakin' aboot these gethenn A m hard tae stop. See that's it no a twelvemonth afore ye da under ower this wev again, for ye an afla puir ban' at the veesitin', Sandy. Weel, weel, guid nicht.