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Updated: May 10, 2025
It 's that that does it, whispered the old man. Then he broke out again in his cracked old tones, 'And for bonnie Annie Laurie I wad lay me doun and dee! 'Duncan, you might remember that we are in the room, said Hollyhock. 'To be sure, lassies; and don't ye like the sound o' the grand old tunes and words? Did ye never hear me sing "Roy's Wife o' Aldivalloch"?
The true test, we say again, of a song. Who needs music, however fitting and beautiful the accustomed air may happen to be, to "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch," or "The Bride cam' out o' the byre," or either of the casts of "The Flowers of the Forest," or to "Auld Lang Syne" itself?
Bates, urged thus flatteringly, stuck his thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat, threw himself back in his chair with his head in that position in which he could look directly towards the zenith, and struck up a remarkably staccato rendering of 'Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch'. This melody may certainly be taxed with excessive iteration, but that was precisely its highest recommendation to the present audience, who found it all the easier to swell the chorus.
Beyond the sooty wall a birch flaunted its new tassels, and the jackdaws were circling about the steeple of the Guthrie Memorial Kirk. A blackbird whistled from a thorn-bush, and Mr. McCunn was inspired to follow its example. He began a tolerable version of "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch." He felt singularly light-hearted, and the immediate cause was his safety razor.
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