The _gille-piobair_ or piper’s man, who carried the pipes; with probably a dozen lads besides, who were always ready to do the bidding of their chief. The chief of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries had a retinue twice as large as that of the chief of the degenerate eighteenth century. Besides those named, he had his gentlemen of the house, his harper, his _seneschal_, his treasurer, his standard-bearer, his jester, his body guard, his quartermaster, his cup-bearer, and his forester, all with clearly defined duties and rights. The offices of piper, standard- bearer, harper, cup-bearer, and treasurer descended from father to son. These “tails” were indeed so formidable that they were at last prohibited from appearing in Edinburgh. In 1809, out of all the big retinue, only the piper remained. He remains still, not exactly as a clan piper—where there are no clans there cannot be clan pipers—but as an appendage to families having a Highland lineage, and to many that have but the remotest connection with the Highlands. His duties are still pretty much what they were. He has not now a _gille_, for the piper of those days is not too proud to carry his pipes himself, but the description written in the early years of the century is still partly applicable to pipers at houses where the Highland traditions are reverenced:— “In a morning when the chief is dressing, he walks backwards and forwards close under the window without doors, playing on his bagpipe, with a most upright attitude and majestic stride. It is a proverb in Scotland, namely, the stately stride of the piper. When required he plays at meals, and in the evening to divert the guests with music when the chief has company with him. His gilley holds the pipe till he begins, and the moment he has done with the instrument he disdainfully throws it down upon the ground, as being only the passive means of conveying his skill to the ear, and not a proper weight for him to carry or bear at other times. But for a contrary reason his gilley snatches it up, which is that the pipe may not suffer indignity from its neglect.” The last half of the paragraph is not applicable, and never was. One might as well expect a professional violinist to throw down his instrument on the stage after playing a solo, leaving the fragments for a super to pick up. Pipers respect the bagpipe as much as other musicians respect their own peculiar instruments, and they were never so “daft” as to indulge in the antics described by this writer. But then, the writer was an Englishman, and may therefore be excused. [Illustration: DANCING TO PIPE MUSIC (_Highland Dress with Belted Plaid._) ]