To relate another awkward experience:—A piper was on one occasion ordered to play at a wedding near Glasgow, at which his colonel was one of the guests. The object was to take the company by surprise. The piper therefore went there secretly. He had three and a half miles to walk, as the ‘bus which plied to and fro at that time (twenty years ago) was full of ladies. The day being exceptionally wet, he got drenched. The first incident took place shortly after leaving the barracks in the Gallowgate, where a fairly well dressed but drunken woman unceremoniously slipped her arm inside his and said—“I am going where you are going.” She vowed she knew him and all the pipers, as well as all the officers, and the colonel in particular—in fact, she knew the whole regiment. While making these declarations she clung tenaciously to the piper, and nothing would shake her off. A motley crowd gathered round them, and, to make matters worse, no policeman was in sight. A gentleman, however, opportunely came to the rescue, and extricated the piper from his predicament by inviting him into a shop and letting him out by a side door into another street. In due course the piper arrived at the mansion house where he was to play. He first made for the kitchen, in order to be out of the way and to have his clothes and appointments dried and replenished. Here he was accosted by a head official, a woman, who wished to know what he was doing there and what he wanted. The piper replied that he was sent there. “Who sent you, and what for?” she asked. He replied—“Colonel ——.” “And who is he?” she next asked. “He is my colonel.” “Well,” she replied, snappishly, “I don’t know him, and never heard anything about you.” The piper, however, entered the kitchen, and made for the fire. It so happened that the head cook—a stout, portly, good-natured woman—was a native of Tobermory. She took the drenched man in hand, and when she discovered that he could speak Gaelic, they became the best of friends. He got himself so much into her favour that she undertook to dry his coat and polish all his accoutrements. In course of time he got brightened up and ready for any call. He had to ignore all the time the repelling looks and nasty hints of the head official referred to, who would have nothing to do with him, and whose dignity was evidently hurt at his presence there without her being consulted. At two in the morning he was sent for by the mistress of the house—a fine specimen of the old Scottish lady—who led him to a door which communicated with the ball- room, and, without more ado, she gave him the following instructions:— “You’ll just blow up your bags and you will play in there”—pointing to the door—“and John will show you where to go to.”