The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1897-02-17
FAIRIES or THE FOG.
SCOTCH PIPERS AND DANCERS IN THE
STREETS OF LONDON


STREETS OF LONDON.
They Appear Only on Dreary Days, When
They Have IA Monopoly of Sidewalk En-
pertaining, and Usually Manage to Flag
All the Pennies within Reach.
Out Of the thick fog that hangs over
the square comes the Scottish piper, and
with him the Scottish dancer, both clad
i'll full Scottish regalia. Not since our
last foggy day had | seen them. So far
as | know they never appear iii clear
weather Their friend and ally, the fog,
drives away the thunderous piano organs
which curse London, leaving to them n
clear field. They come out of it playing
merrily; they disappear into it playing
merrily, but not until they have tarried
long enough to charm away our pennies
Unbearablc as the bagpipe music is
to any SKYE the ears of the faithful, it
has an indescribable charm in II London
fog or iii "a Scotch mist 1t rouses you
out of the dull, sticky phlcgm that the
SCOT laden fog imposes ON you. 1t brings
you to the window Of your apartment TO
wait impatiently until the gay, swag
gering figures appear from behind the
yellow curtains like living pictures mt n
music hall.
The dancer carries two rusty swords
the only thing about him that is not
bright and fresh He lays them down
on the pavement. Meanwhile the piper
marches ON straight ahead, staggering
and blowing, as if he were piper to the
whole Scottish people So foreefully
does he march that we fcar he is going
to pass us by for the wealthy households
ers in the next street.
Then suddenly he performs a half cir
Gle, still playing and now marching with
finicky steps, which show of his great
white spats strikingly i'll the dim light.
At that instant the dancer looks up ut
the windows, bows and smiles and
Graves our wealth. If we are conscious
of II prcconcertcd theatrical movement
ON the part of our canny, killed friends,
it only re-enforces our admiration, and
jingle, jingle, jingle, go our pennies
Americans Frenchmen's, Englishmen' $,
landladics', servants penniesl A har-
vest of pennies, reaped by canny fingers
and put i'll an extensive granary some
where in the most picturesque of all ma
tional garbs. Still the fingers go up to
the feathered cap for II few more pen
MES; still tho piper plays for few more
pennies-which are forthcoming, 1t is
kept up until the people in the windows
set their faces hard against any further
payment until goods are delivered.
Then the player takes up his position
ON the sidewalk opposite the side of the
street which has contributed most lib
orally, and tho dancer gives us-well,
what do you suppose he gives? Not n
highland fling, of course No Scot i'll n
kilt would be guilty of that any more
than IL Scot i'll kilt would mention
Bobby Burns ut tho banquet of II Scot
fish society
But nowhere else is the highland fling
and the bagpipe quite so attractive rs on
n London pavement when the fog is
thick and one must work by lamplight
ut midday. The gayly clad piper who
summons the greatest of Scottish bards
and his guests to dinner, and after they
are seated marches solemnly around the
table splitting the ears of these same
guests, has not ono half the poetry of
the piper of the fog. | have heard tell
how the finest of Scottish dancers dance
around fires i'll the open to amuso the
queen when she is at Balmoral. She is
welcome to them. Though the piper be
a royal gamekeeper and the dancer a
royal gillie, | rest content with my
Scots who march ont of the fog and back
into it after they have emptied my peck
cts of pennies,
Another collection is taken before we
may enjoy the sword dance, which is
quite the perfection of the dancing art
us the Scotch know it. If that does not
get the last of your pennies, the farewell
collection Will. All pennies all collec-
tions. disappear somewhere i'll that
dancers kilt, though that dancer's kilt
grows no larger. How he carries them
---an English penny is rs large as u sill
yer dollar-is II question, for after n
few collections the brawniest of hairy
legged highlanders could not dance I'M
der the weight Of his wealth. But
have seen the dancer now and then take
handful of something out of his kilt
and put 1t in pouch under the piper 5
! pipe. Often not II penny is left i'll the
block. After the messenger boy. who,
being i'll a hurry, has reclined ON stooI
for little rest and recreation, has part.
cd with his last hlpence the dancer
| picks up his rusty swords, the pipei
strikes mp n tune and they march away
into the fog. In one foggy day they
must earn enough to keep them in Scotch
"whusky" until another foegy day
comes. If it is possible for such a wicket
thing rs a London fog IN have fairies
| the piper and the dancer are they. -
Lo-don Cor New York Press.