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Updated: May 12, 2025
Their two figures attracted some attention in the crowded street, for Hilary-tall and slight, with his thin, bearded face and soft felt hat was what is known as "a distinguished-looking man"; and the little model, though not "distinguished-looking" in her old brown skirt and tam-o'shanter cap, had the sort of face which made men and even women turn to look at her.
One morning, early in June, Dorise, in a rough tweed suit and a pearl-grey suede tam-o'shanter, carrying a mackintosh across her shoulder, and accompanied by a tall, dark-haired, clean-shaven man of thirty-two, with rather thick lips and bushy eyebrows, walked down through the woods to the river.
"Then his name could be any old thing," declared Jerry, delighted at the picture Gyp had drawn, "if he did such lovely things! Let's us call it the Singing Hill." The scent of pine on the frosty air and the knowledge that her new sweater and tam-o'shanter were quite as pretty as the prettiest there, transformed Jerry into a new Jerry.
During the summer we faded a green tam-o'shanter so that it would not look too new. We wore a pair of old spats which just missed being mates as to shade, and a button off one. Silk stockings—oh yes, silk—but very darned. A blue sweater, an orange scarf, and last, but not least— And then and there got out a stick and chewed it, and chewed it on the Subway and chewed it on the streets of New York.
She went out obediently, walking up and down the paths with her hands in her jacket pockets, and her red tam-o'shanter pulled down over her eyes. The big white cat followed her, ran on ahead, and then stopped, arching its back as if waiting for her to stroke it. Taking no notice of it, Joyce turned aside to the pear-tree and climbed up among the highest branches.
Margaret came blithely along, her tam-o'shanter being a little late in seasonable style, but so becoming that the detail was forgotten in the entire effect. "Heard the news?" she inquired indifferently. Her indifference indicated real importance, always. "What news?" chorused the trio. "We're going on a picnic!" "Where?" encored the chorus.
He glanced sidewise and suspiciously at her but all he saw was a cherub face framed in a tilted sky-blue tam-o'shanter and straggling ends of flaming red hair. "Jimmie won't scold me. He'd want me to try to find Cynthia." Robin smothered a sigh. "He wasn't home anyway." "D'you live all alone? You and your Jimmie?"
His pal, who didn't come up much higher than his elbow, stepping forward exhibited a pale face with a long drooping nose and no chin to speak of. He seemed to have just scrambled out of a dust-bin in a tam-o'shanter cap and a tattered soldier's coat much too long for him. Being so deadly white he looked like a horrible dirty invalid in a ragged dressing gown.
"Poor Kitty." "The last three times I paid calls in Harmouth," said poor Kitty, "I sported a cycling skirt, the blousiest of blouses, and a tam-o'shanter over my left ear. Of course everybody was in. So I thought if I went like this brand new frock swagger hat white gloves that everybody would be out." "And were they?" "No. Just like my luck they were all all in!"
But after a moment, at a recollection of sky-blue eyes underneath a sky-blue tam-o'shanter, he chuckled softly. "A Prince! Gee, some Prince!" But his head instinctively went higher at the honor thrust upon him. When he returned from the store, Dale usually found his mother sitting by the lamp crocheting.
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