The Heart of ScotlandMoncrieff, A. R. Hope (Ascott Robert Hope)
History
The Heart of Scotland
Moncrieff, A. R. Hope (Ascott Robert Hope)
Perthshire (Scotland) -- Description and travel
English soldiers, one supposes, are not now needed to guard Perth, its
ordinary garrison a small body of the Black Watch or other local
regiment. Gone, too, are the militia whom I once came upon drawn up at
the top of the “Whins” without a stitch of uniform on, stripped to bathe
by word of command. Military displays on the Inch will be less common
than games of golf, cricket, and football, the last in its more
unsophisticated forms, since this public space does not lend itself to
the collection of gate-money; but the barefoot laddies who here kick
about the “leather” for their own divert, are the buds of those
professionals that bloom out to such applause in English enclosures. And
the rules of football have changed even since my youth, when a band of
youngsters from various public schools, gathered on the Inch for a
Christmas game, found themselves all at loggerheads in an anarchy not
yet divided into the kingdoms of “Rugger” and “Soccer.” Still more has
the game been refined since a day when country folk coming down to
market, about two miles out of Perth, met a man charging along the
Crieff road, chased by a party of the Forty-Second with their kilts
streaming in the wind; at first sight the fugitive was taken for a
deserter, and the farmers drew aside to give him a fair chance, but it
was only a Methven lad carrying off the ball from a match on the North
Inch, nor could he be tackled till it was goaled in his house, half a
dozen miles from the field. Scone had once a name for rough matches, at
which limbs were often broken, but, as the proverb went, “A’s fair at
the ba’ of Scone.”
The example of that hero warns me not to linger on the Perth Inch, but
to be off up the Tay, keeping as near it as one can for parks, and for
the jealously guarded banks of valuable salmon fisheries. For the first
two miles there is a public walk up the right bank to the Almond mouth.
On the opposite side, hidden in lordly foliage, lies Scone Palace and
the site of the old Pictish capital. The Scot is so notoriously modest
that English example has often led him to mishandle his own names:
before Scone gets corrupted, then, let me insist that it is pronounced
_Scoon_, as the eatable _scone_, so mumbled in Cockney mouths, should
rhyme with _on_, and not be treated as their _own_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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