麦康纳奇校长对司库麦考尔说:“我们应该为下一届圣安德鲁舞会安排一个风笛手。你那刺耳的萨克斯管让我感到切分音的抱怨。我讨厌爵士乐，我想听听风笛的吹奏声。”“唉!这是真的，”塔姆·麦考尔说。“现在的年轻人都迷上了狐步舞，不愿意从斯特拉斯比跳一段舞。现在，我们想要的是一个小伙子，喝点山露水，在晚餐时间在地板上大摇大摆地走，弹一两曲。整个北方只有一个;我听他们说起过他:他叫乔克·麦克弗森，住在博尔德河;一个旧时的硬石矿工，一个放荡不羁的懒汉，在荣耀中度过他的夜晚，对着月亮唱琵琶歌。 I'll seek him out; beyond a doubt on next Saint Andrew's night We'll proudly hear the pipes to cheer and charm our appetite. Oh lads were neat and lassies sweet who graced Saint Andrew's Ball; But there was none so full of fun as Treasurer MacCall. And as Maloney's rag-time bank struck up the newest hit, He smiled a smile behind his hand, and chuckled: "Wait a bit." And so with many a Celtic snort, with malice in his eye, He watched the merry crowd cavort, till supper time drew nigh. Then gleefully he seemed to steal, and sought the Nugget Bar, Wherein there sat a tartaned chiel, as lonely as a star; A huge and hairy Highlandman as hearty as a breeze, A glass of whisky in his hand, his bag-pipes on his knees. "Drink down your doch and doris, Jock," cried Treasurer MacCall; "The time is ripe to up and pipe; they wait you in the hall. Gird up your loins and grit your teeth, and here's a pint of hooch To mind you of your native heath - jist pit it in your pooch. Play on and on for all you're worth; you'll shame us if you stop. Remember you're of Scottish birth - keep piping till you drop. Aye, though a bunch of Willie boys should bluster and implore, For the glory of the Highlands, lad, you've got to hold the floor." The dancers were at supper, and the tables groaned with cheer, When President MacConnachie exclaimed: "What do I hear? Methinks it's like a chanter, and its coming from the hall." "It's Jock MacPherson tuning up," cried Treasurer MacCall. So up they jumped with shouts of glee, and gaily hurried forth. Said they: "We never thought to see a piper in the North." Aye, all the lads and lassies braw went buzzing out like bees, And Jock MacPherson there they saw, with red and rugged knees. Full six foot four he strode the floor, a grizzled son of Skye, With glory in his whiskers and with whisky in his eye. With skelping stride and Scottish pride he towered above them all: "And is he no' a bonny sight?" said Treasurer MacCall. While President MacConnachie was fairly daft with glee, And there was jubilation in the Scottish Commy-tee. But the dancers seemed uncertain, and they signified their doubt, By dashing back to eat as fast as they had darted out. And someone raised the question 'twixt the coffee and the cakes: "Does the Piper walk to get away from all the noise he makes?" Then reinforced with fancy food they slowly trickled forth, And watching in patronizing mood the Piper of the North. Proud, proud was Jock MacPherson, as he made his bag-pipes skirl, And he set his sporran swinging, and he gave his kilts a whirl. And President MacConnachie was jumping like a flea, And there was joy and rapture in the Scottish Commy-tee. "Jist let them have their saxophones wi' constipated squall; We're having Heaven's music now," said Treasurer MacCall. But the dancers waxed impatient, and they rather seemed to fret For Maloney and the jazz of his Hibernian Quartette. Yet little recked the Piper, as he swung with head on high, Lamenting with MacCrimmon on the heather hills of Skye. With Highland passion in his heart he held the centre floor; Aye, Jock MacPherson played as he had never played before. Maloney's Irish melodists were sitting in their place, And as Maloney waited, there was wonder in his face. 'Twas sure the gorgeous music - Golly! wouldn't it be grand If he could get MacPherson as a member of his band? But the dancers moped and mumbled, as around the room they sat: "We paid to dance," they grumbled; "But we cannot dance to that. Of course we're not denying that it's really splendid stuff; But it's mighty satisfying - don't you think we've had enough?" "You've raised a pretty problem," answered Treasurer MacCall; "For on Saint Andrew's Night, ye ken, the Piper rules the Ball." Said President MacConnachie: "You've said a solemn thing. Tradition holds him sacred, and he's got to have his fling. But soon, no doubt, he