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"When I've
been sae tired on the march I could have laid doon an' dee'd the touch
o' the pipes has fair lifted me up agen."
The piper made way for a Kiltie at the piano, and for Highlanders, who
sang old songs full of melancholy, which seemed to make the hearts of
his comrades grow glad as when they helped him with "The Bonnie,
Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond." But the roof nearly flew off the hall to
"The March of the Cameron Men," and the walls were greatly strained
when the regimental marching song broke at every verse into wild
Highland shouts and the war-cry which was heard at Loos of "Camerons,
forward!" "Forward, Camerons!"
"An Englishman is good," said one of the Camerons, leaning over the
table to me, "and an Irishman is good, but a Scot is the best of all."
Then he struck the palm of one hand with the fist of another. "But the
London men," he said, with a fine, joyous laugh at some good memory,
"are as good as any fighting-men in France. My word, ye should have
seen 'em on September 25th.


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