A New Medley of MemoriesHunter Blair, David Oswald, Sir
Religion
A New Medley of Memories
Hunter Blair, David Oswald, Sir
Hunter Blair, David Oswald, Sir, 1853-1939
The little variety of fruit which this climate brings to perfection is
the cause that the inhabitants set anything on their tables, after
dinner, that has the appearance of it; and I have often observed at the
houses of principal people a dish of small turnips, which they call
neeps, introduced in the dessert, and ate with as much avidity as if
they had been fruit of the first perfection.
The perfect summer weather accompanied me north to Beaufort, which was
doubly fortunate, as a great party was gathered there for a gigantic
bazaar, organized by one of the daughters of the house to raise funds
for a county sanatorium for consumption, in which she was greatly
interested. The difficulty of attracting _men_ to a show of the kind,
{120} especially in the shooting season, was cleverly met by including
among the attractions a novel and unique exhibition of stags' heads,
lent from all the great Highland forests. The interest of this drew
sportsmen from far and near to Beaufort, where a notable company was
assembled, including the whole Lovat family, most of the Chiefs of
clans and their wives, and, last not least, Ranguia, a genuine
chieftain from New Zealand, clad in what was understood to be his
native dress, and gifted with an astonishing voice (_tenore
robustissimo_), in which he sang Maori songs of love and war in the
great gallery at intervals during the two days of the bazaar. The most
charming of British Duchesses opened the proceedings with a speech of
enticing eloquence: sales were brisk, the weather perfect, and the
attendance enormous; and the profits, if I remember right, were
something like £4,000, so that the affair was altogether a success. We
recreated ourselves, after these fatiguing days, by a pleasant motor
drive to Oromarty, to see the splendid fleet (the Fifth Cruiser
Squadron (and some battleships of the Home Fleet) mustered in the
Firth. We went all over the _Dreadnought_, and drank tea on Kelburn's
ship, the _Cochrane_, burst a tyre on our way home and took refuge at
Balnagowan, where Lady Ross gave us dinner and sang to us perfectly
delightfully: a full and interesting day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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