“A’ the auld folk frae Clachnacudden in Gleska were at thae swarees, as weel as a’ the young folk. Ye were packed in your sates like red herrin’ in a barrel, and on every hand ye heard folk tearin’ the tartan and misca’in’ somebody at hame in Clachnacudden. The natives wi’ the dress suits that had got on awfu’ weel in Gleska at the speerit tred or keepin’ banks, sat as dour as onything on the pletform lettin’ on they couldna speak the tartan. Ithers o’ them--that had the richt kind o’ legs for’t--wad hae on the kilts, wi’ a white goat-skin sporran the size o’ a door-bass hung doon to their knees foment them, haudin’ in their breaths in case the minister wad smell drink aff them, and tryin’ to feel like Rob Roy or Roderick Dhu. “In thae days they started oot wi’ giein’ ye tea and a poke o’ fancy breid--penny things like London buns and fruit-cakes; and between the speeches oranges were passed roond, and wee roond hard sweeties, fine for pappin’ at the folk in front. Ye aye made a guid tea o’t, the same as if’ ye never saw tea in your life afore, and preferred it weel biled. “When the tea was bye and the boys were blawin’ as much breath as they had left into the empty pokes, and bangin’ them aff like cannons, the chairman wad stand up on the pletform and make a speech aboot Clachnacudden. I used to ken that speech by hert; it was the same yin for a’ the natives’ reunions. He said that Clachnacudden was the bonniest place ever onybody clapped eyes on. That the Clachnacudden men, were notorious a’ ower the world for their honesty and push, and aye got on like onything if they were tryin’, and didna tak’ to the drink; and that the Clachnacuddem lassies were that braw, and nice, and smert, they were lookit up to every place they went. When he said that the natives o’ Clachnacudden kent fine it was the God’s truth he was tellin’ them, they got on their feet and waved their hankies and cheered for ten meenutes. “Havin’ taken a drink o’ watter frae the caraffe at his side--efter makin’ a mistake and tryin’ to blaw the froth aff the tumbler--the chairman then begood generally to say that Gleska was a gey cauld, sooty, dirty, wicked place for onybody to hae to live in that had been born in the bonny wee glens, and the hulls, and hedges, and things aboot Clachnacudden, but still= ```’Their herts were true, their herts were Hielan’, ```And they in dreams beheld the Hebrides.’= At that ye wad see the hale o’ the Clachnacudden folk puttin’ whit was left o’ their pastry in their pouches and haudin’ their hankies wi’ baith hands to their e’en to kep the tears frae rinnin’ on their guid waistcoats or their silk weddin’-goons. And the droll thing was that for a’ they misca’d Gleska, and grat aboot Clachnacudden, ye couldna get yin o’ them to gang back to Clachnacudden if ye pyed the train ticket and guaranteed a pension o’ a pound a week.