“Clachnacudden bein’ Hielan’, they aye started the music efter the chairman’s speech wi’ a sang frae Harry Linn ca’d ‘Jock Macraw, the Fattest Man in the Forty-Twa,’ or some ither sang that kind o’ codded themsel’s. Then the minister made a comic speech wi’ jokes in’t, and tried to look as game as onything; and the folk frae Clachnacudden leaned forrit on their sates and asked the wifes in front if they had mind when his mither used to work in the tawtie field. ‘Fancy him a minister!’ says they, ‘and tryin’ to be comic, wi’ his mither jist yin o’ the Mac-Taggarts!’ A’ the time the puir minister was thinkin’ he was daein’ fine, and wonderin’ if ‘The Oban Times’ was takin’ doon a’ his speech. “And then a lot o’ nyafs in the back sates aye began to heave orange-peelin’s at folk that was daein’ them nae hairm. “Efter the swaree was ower, the weemen went into the ladies’ room to tak’ aff their galoshes, and tak’ the preens oot o’ their trains, and the men went ower to the Duke o’ Wellington Bar, rinnin’ like onything, for it was nearly eleeven o’clock. The folk the hall belanged to started to tak’ oot the sates for the dancin’, and sweep the corks aff the floor; and at eleeven prompt the Grand Merch started. Whiles they had Adams’s or Ilfs band, and whiles they jist had Fitzgerald, the fiddler that used to play on the Lochgoilhead boat. It didna maitter, for a’ the Clachnacudden folk were fine strong dancers, and could dance to onything. Man! I aye liked the Grand Merch. The man wi’ the reddest kilts aye started it at the Clachnacudden, and when the Grand Merch got a’ fankled, they jist started ‘Triumph,’ and did the best they could. “That was in the grand auld days afore they got genteel. Nooadays, as I’m tellin’ ye, it’s a’ conversashions, and they work aff their speeches on ye wi’ no tea at a’ and no pokes o’ pastry, nor naething. Ye’re no use unless ye hae the lend o’ a dress suit, and your pairtner has to ‘hae pipe-clyed shoon, a muslin frock no’ richt hooked at the neck, her hair put up at Bamber’s, and a cab to tak’ her hame in. It’s naething but the waltzin’. I’m prood to say I never waltzed in a’ my born days, though they say I have the richt kind o’ feet for’t, me bein’ so lang at the waitin’. And a’ they auld classic dances, like La-va and the Guaracha Waltz and Circassian Circle’s oot o’ date \ I havena even seen Petronella for mony a day. “And the music’s a’ spiled; it’s a’ fancy music they hae noo, wi’ nae tune ye can sing to’t as ye gang up the back or doon the middle. Ye’ll see them yonder wi’ their piano, three fiddles, and a cornet. If I was gaun to hae a cornet I wad hae a cornet and no’ a brass feenisher.