"The more's the pity, Bill. There's no game ever I saw I could compare to shinty. Talk about cricket, that's nothing to it. Shinty was suited to a New Year's day; it kept the spirits up and the body warm. I should like to have a turn at it yet--wouldn't I run?" And the old man's heavy frame shook as he chuckled at the idea. "However, there's no use speaking; is tea ready wife?" "No, and it won't be for half-an-hour yet, perhaps longer" said Mrs Chisholm. "You know we have to wait Bella and John," indicating her married daughter and her husband. "Then," said the old man, "come here bairns and I shall tell you how I spent one of my early New Year's days." "Yes, do, grandfather," shouted a happy chorus; "now for a story." "Not much of a story" replied Mr Chisholm, "but such as it is you shall have it. I was born and bred in the country, you know, my father being a small farmer. The district was half-Lowland, half-Highland, and we mixed the customs of both. At that time shinty was a universal winter game, and greatly we prided ourselves on our smartness at the sport. And it was a sport that required a great deal of smartness, activity, strength, presence of mind, and a quick sure eye. Many a moonlight night did the lads contend for the honour of hailing the ball. On this particular day there was to be a match between two districts--twenty men a-side, and the stake £5 and a gallon of whisky. Our leader was a carpenter, named Paterson, who was the hero of many a keenly contested shinty match. "The eagerly expected morning at last arrived. The New Year was taken in by the young folk trying for their fortune in 'sooans.' Bless me bairns, don't you know what 'sooans' is? No; then the thin sooans was made for drinking like good thick gruel; the thick was like porridge, but that we never took on a Christmas or New Year morning. About four o'clock I came down to the kitchen, and there found my mother superintending the boiling of the 'sooans,' and the place filled with the servants, girls, and men, and some of our neighbours. My friend Paterson, who had an eye to one of the servants (a pretty country lassie) had walked four miles to be present. Wishing them all a happy Christmas I sat down to share the 'sooans' with the rest. "'Well Paterson,' said I, 'how do you feel this morning? Nothing, I hope, to interfere with your running powers.' "'No thank ye, Willie,' said he, 'I'm as supple as a deer.' "'Supple enough,' said one of the men with a grin; 'he was here first this morning. Wasn't he, Maggie?' "''Twould be lang afore ye were first,' retorted Maggie; 'the laziest loon on the whole country side.'