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A FLIGHT TO ST. KILDA
6
witnessed; for women
will stand a great deal with equanimity, if it is
graceful!
And here, in case I forget, I wish to record the fact,
that when looking out of my berth at my neighbours
dressing in the morning, and wishing in my heart they
would be quick about it, that I might get up myself, I
was struck with surprise at the pains the young men took
with their personal appearance. I had thought, in my
simplicity, that it was only young ladies who paid much
attention to their hair; but this is an entire mistake.
I saw a young man comb and brush and twist his
moustache in a way a young lady could not have surpassed
with the hair of her head. It was quite a revelation to
me. Once at breakfast in the Hydro, I had remarked to a
young lady sitting beside me that I wondered why ladies
were so frequently late in the morning, seeing they had
not to shave. “No,” she replied, somewhat testily; “and
you have not to put up your back-hair.” An old lady
sitting opposite, thinking I had been snubbed, quietly
added: “Yes, Mr Lawson; and the less hair you have, the
more time it takes you!”
Our steamer called at a number of places on the way,
most of which I have forgotten. We had an hour or two
at Oban (or Qbàn, as the Cockneys call it), and
saw the
big Colosseum-like building where statues of the
twelve M’Caigs are soon to be erected — all to be as
like the donor as possible. We called at Tobermory,
too, but had little time to wait; saw Morven, and
Ardnamurchan, with the black hills of Mull behind —
And Ulva dark, and
Colonsay,
And all the group of
islets gay
That guard famed Staffa round.
Mountainous Rum came
next into view, and Eigg with his curious scuir,
reminding me of the old College joke, that it would be
pleasant to be minister of the united parishes of Rum
and Eigg; to which sonic one added by way of moral, that
it was a rather flippant joke for a young
minister to make.
We had an hour at
Dunvegan Castle, on the west side of Skye, the seat
of the Macleods of Macleod, the proprietors |
