Scotland/Scots > Reminiscences of a Highland parish

142
A HIGHLAND PARISH.
sounds as would draw forth cheers and an encore
even in St James’s Hall. But Donald, the son of
Black John, is done, and he looks to bonny Mary
Cameron for a blink of her hazel eye to reward
him, while in virtue of his performance he demands
a song from her. Now Mary has dozens of songs,
so has Kirsty, so has Flory,—love songs, shearing
songs, washing songs, Prince Charlie songs, songs
composed by this or that poet in the parish; and
therefore Mary asks, What song ? So until she
can make up her mind, and have a little playful
flirtation with Donald, the son of Black John, she
requests Hugh, the son of Sandy, to tell a story.
Although Hugh has abundance of this material,
he too protests that he has none. But having be¬
trayed this modesty, he starts off with one of those
which are given by Mr Campbell, to whose ad¬
mirable and truthful volumes I refer the reader.*
* No man knows the Highlanders better than Mr Campbell—
very few so well—and I am glad to quote his opinions. In the in¬
troduction to the “ Highland Tales,” he says:—
‘ ‘ I have wandered among the peasantry of many countries, and
this trip but confirmed my old impression. There are few peasants
that I think so highly of, none that I love so well. Scotch High¬
landers have faults in plenty, but they have the bearing of Nature’s