Old Mr Chisholm sat at his parlour fire after a hearty New Year dinner.
His wife occupied the cosy arm-chair in the opposite corner; and
gathered round them were a bevy of merry grand-children, enjoying New
Year as only children can. Their parents were absent at the moment, and
the family group was completed by a son and daughter of the old couple.
Mr Chisholm was in a meditative mood, looking into the bright blazing
fire. "Well," he observed at last with an air of regret, "The New Year
is not observed as it was when we were children, wife. It's dying out,
dying out greatly. When these children are as old as we are there will
be no trace of a Christmas or a New Year holiday. What did you say you
had been doing all day Bill?" he asked, turning to his son.
"Shooting," said Bill, "and deuced cold I was. Catch me trying for the
'silver medal and other prizes' another New Year's Day."
"Shooting may be interesting" said Mr Chisholm, "but as you say it is
cold work. We had sometimes a shot at a raffle in my young days, but
usually we had more exciting business. Shinty my boy, shinty was our
great game," and Mr Chisholm looked as if he greatly pitied the
degeneracy of the latter days.
"I have played shinty myself" said Bill, "and I see it is still played
in Badenoch and Strathglass, and among wild Highlanders in Edinburgh.
But it's too hard on the lungs for me, and besides we never play it
here."
"The more's the pity, Bill. There's no game ever I saw I could compare
to shinty. Talk about cricket, that's nothing to it. Shinty was suited
to a New Year's day; it kept the spirits up and the body warm. I should
like to have a turn at it yet--wouldn't I run?" And the old man's heavy
frame shook as he chuckled at the idea. "However, there's no use
speaking; is tea ready wife?"
"No, and it won't be for half-an-hour yet, perhaps longer" said Mrs
Chisholm. "You know we have to wait Bella and John," indicating her
married daughter and her husband.
"Then," said the old man, "come here bairns and I shall tell you how I
spent one of my early New Year's days."
"Yes, do, grandfather," shouted a happy chorus; "now for a story."
"Not much of a story" replied Mr Chisholm, "but such as it is you shall
have it. I was born and bred in the country, you know, my father being a
small farmer. The district was half-Lowland, half-Highland, and we mixed
the customs of both. At that time shinty was a universal winter game,
and greatly we prided ourselves on our smartness at the sport. And it
was a sport that required a great deal of smartness, activity, strength,
presence of mind, and a quick sure eye. Many a moonlight night did the
lads contend for the honour of hailing the ball. On this particular day
there was to be a match between two districts--twenty men a-side, and
the stake £5 and a gallon of whisky. Our leader was a carpenter, named
Paterson, who was the hero of many a keenly contested shinty match.
"The eagerly expected morning at last arrived. The New Year was taken in
by the young folk trying for their fortune in 'sooans.' Bless me bairns,
don't you know what 'sooans' is? No; then the thin sooans was made for
drinking like good thick gruel; the thick was like porridge, but that we
never took on a Christmas or New Year morning. About four o'clock I came
down to the kitchen, and there found my mother superintending the
boiling of the 'sooans,' and the place filled with the servants, girls,
and men, and some of our neighbours. My friend Paterson, who had an eye
to one of the servants (a pretty country lassie) had walked four miles
to be present. Wishing them all a happy Christmas I sat down to share
the 'sooans' with the rest.
"'Well Paterson,' said I, 'how do you feel this morning? Nothing, I
hope, to interfere with your running powers.'
"'No thank ye, Willie,' said he, 'I'm as supple as a deer.'
"'Supple enough,' said one of the men with a grin; 'he was here first
this morning. Wasn't he, Maggie?'
"''Twould be lang afore ye were first,' retorted Maggie; 'the laziest
loon on the whole country side.'
"By this time the 'sooans' were ready, and we were all unceremoniously
turned out of doors. In our absence ten bowls were filled. In two of
these a ring was placed, signifying, of course, speedy marriage; a
shilling put into two others represented the old bachelor or old maid;
and a half-crown in another represented riches. Called in, we had each
to choose a dish, beginning at the youngest. Great was the merriment as
we drained our dishes, but at the last mouthful or two we paused, as if
afraid to peer into dark futurity.
"'Here goes,' exclaimed Paterson first of all, and he emptied his dish.
At the bottom lay a shilling, which he exhibited amidst a general shout
of laughter.
"'What have _you_ got Maggie,' was the next exclamation. With a titter
Maggie produced a ring.
"'And here's the other ring' cried Jock, the 'laziest loon in the
country side.' 'Maggie, you're my lass for this year anyway.'
"Maggie tossed her head in superb disdain.
"'I'll try my luck now,' said I, and drained my dish. My luck was to get
the second shilling. So you see wife, though I got you I was intended to
be a bachelor. The half-crown, I think, fell to a man who could never
keep a sixpence in his purse.
"After breakfast we started for the place of meeting. Our men joined us
one by one, and many more came to see the game. As we passed the
cottages the girls called to us to see that we supported the honour of
the place, and returned victorious, to which we replied 'ay, that we
will,' and flourished our clubs with vigour. Before we reached the
appointed ground the procession had greatly increased in numbers, and a
large crowd at the spot welcomed us with tossing up of bonnets and
rounds of cheering. Soon afterwards our opponents arrived, headed by a
piper, and their leader Jack Macdonald. Their appearance also excited
hearty cheering, and preliminaries were soon arranged.
"The sides were very equally matched. Macdonald was an active young
ploughman, who came neatly dressed in a velveteen jacket and corduroy
trousers, the latter adorned with rows of buttons. Paterson, of course,
was our mainstay; and besides him, we had an innkeeper, as stout and
round as one of his own barrels, who, singular to say, was a capital
shinty player. Our opponents had the assistance of an enthusiastic
schoolmaster, who, even in those days, encouraged sports among his
pupils, in spite of the remonstrances of some of the wiseacres. Our
clubs were carefully selected. Some preferred a sharp square crook,
some a round one, just as they happened to excel in hitting or
'birling'--that is, in getting the ball within the bend, and running it
along upon the ground. The ball, composed of cork and worsted, was at
once strong and elastic.
"The hails, four hundred yards apart, were duly measured out and marked
by upright poles. Then the players ranged themselves in the centre of
the field, Macdonald and Paterson hand to hand; and at the understood
sign the ball was thrown down and the strife commenced. I don't know
whether the rules were the same in all places, but with us no kicking or
throwing of the ball was allowed. We could stop it by any means we
pleased, but we could strike it forward only with our clubs. The players
were ranged in opposing ranks; and it was against all rule for a player,
even in the heat of contest, to turn round to his opponents' side,
though he might, by so doing, obtain a more convenient stroke. Should
such a thing happen, the roar of "Clipsides ye" from a dozen throats,
and the thwack of two or three clubs on his legs would soon apprise the
unlucky individual of his fault.
"As long as the ball was in the midst of the players there was great
scrambling and confusion. The lads pushed and shouted; club stuck fast
in club; and the ball was tossed from side to side without any advantage
to either party. Paterson watched his opportunity, and cleverly picking
the ball from the other clubs, he gave it a hasty stroke which brought
it close to me, eagerly waiting for it outside the thick of battle. In a
moment I had caught it, and sped along the field, 'birling' rather than
hitting, followed by the whole troop, cheered by my friends and stormed
at by my opponents. Macdonald, rushing fast and furious, first came up
and seized my club with his as I was about to administer a stroke. For a
second or two we were both helpless; Macdonald first succeeded in
extricating his weapon, and struck the ball backwards two or three
yards. The other players were almost upon us, when I struck up
Macdonald's club, caught the ball again and shot a-head. Macdonald
overtook me with a few bounds, for he was now thoroughly roused and
heated; but stretching too far to hit the ball he fell on his knee. The
schoolmaster, however, was now upon me, and the ball was hurled back by
him among the troop of players. Macdonald had sprung to his feet almost
in an instant, and darted back to the contest.
"Again the scene of confusion recommenced. Backwards and forwards,
backwards and forwards, swayed the excited crowd, every face flushed,
and every muscle strained to the utmost. Shins and arms received some
awkward blows in the strife, but no one cared as long as the injuries
were unimportant. Macdonald at last succeeded in pulling out the ball,
and getting it for a moment into a clear space, he delivered a
tremendous blow, which drove it far on the road to hail. There was a
race who should reach it first. Paterson succeeded, and drove the ball
far down the field, but out of the direct way and into a whin bush.
'Hands,' shouted his nearest opponent; and at this call the stout
innkeeper, who was nearest the bush, caught up the ball and brought it
into the open field.
"'High or low' said the innkeeper, holding his club in his right hand
and the ball in his left.
"'High,' said his opponent.
"The ball was immediately thrown into the air and both tried to strike
it as it fell. The innkeeper was successful, but the blow was
necessarily a feeble one, and carried the ball but a few yards.
"The contest continued during the greater part of the day, neither side
being able to claim a decided advantage. During a momentary pause
Paterson flung off his boots, sharp frost as it was, and was followed by
Macdonald, the innkeeper, and myself. The innkeeper freely regaled
himself from his pocket-flask, and actually became more eager and
active. Late in the afternoon he got a-head with the ball, and skipped
forward, sometimes 'birling' and sometimes hitting it, until he was
within twenty yards of hail. Another blow would have finished the match,
when Macdonald caught the ball and ran back with it, most wonderfully
eluding all the clubs, now wielded by arms for the most part greatly
fatigued. Paterson, thrown off his guard by the suddenness of the
movement, was left behind. The innkeeper pursued Macdonald closely--so
closely, indeed, that his bulky body obstructed all movements but his
own. Macdonald was in high spirits, when, running against an opponent in
front, he turned round for a moment to our side to secure a better
stroke. The innkeeper, foaming with rage and disappointment, roared out
'Clipsides ye,' and administered a blow to Macdonald's leg that caused
him to halt for an instant. That halt was fatal. I darted past and
hoisted the ball to Paterson, who seized it and carried it easily
through the now scattered ranks of our opponents. Once out into the open
field it was a direct chase. Paterson had better wind than any man on
the field, and having got so far ahead he made the most of his
advantage. Macdonald pursued him hotly. Twice he came up with Paterson,
twice he struck at the ball, and both times struck the ground just as
the object of his pursuit was carried forward by our leader's weapon.
After that all was over. Paterson took the ball to within twenty yards
of hail, and then with a well-directed blow sent it between the winning
posts. A loud shout rent the air. In the excitement of the moment I
attempted leapfrog over the stout innkeeper, and both came to the
ground.
"After this the whisky was broached, and mutual healths followed. The
game had been so well contested that there was no ill-feeling; and we
promised to give our opponents an opportunity of revenge another day.
Late at night we returned to my father's house, where a good supper was
spread for us in the barn. A hearty dance followed, and so New Year's
Day, old style, came to a close. Don't you think it was a jovial day?"
"Not a doubt about it" said Bill, "only the sport was rather rough. Do
you really mean to say that you threw off your boots for the play?"
"That we did my boy in the heat of the match, and it was not so unusual
as you may suppose. Highlanders were tough lads in those days, and they
didn't fear a blow or a bruise."
"Did many accidents happen?" asked Bill. "When clubs were swinging about
freely I should think heads were in danger."
"Serious accidents were rare" replied Mr Chisholm. "Ankles and legs and
hands did get some smart knocks, but heads generally escaped. In the
thick of the strife there was no use swinging clubs in the air. We could
only push and thrust, and pull the ball out with the crook. In a race we
struck as we ran, giving short rapid strokes; and when a player
delivered a sweeping blow, he had generally space for the swing of his
club. I remember a boy getting his face laid open by an awkward fellow;
but such an occurrence was rare among experienced players. We could
handle our clubs as you handle your guns--scientifically. There are not
usually many casualties at a shooting match--eh Bill?"
"But, grandfather, what came of Paterson?" asked little Mary. "Did he
marry Maggie?"
"Oh, that's the subject of interest to you, lassie. No, he didn't. Women
are always contrary. Maggie married the 'lazy loon' Jock; he made the
most of his good fortune in getting the ring, and the marriage was long
cited as a proof of the unfailing certainty of the oracle."
"Grandfather," cried Henry, "have you made us the totum? Didn't you used
to play the totum on New Year's Day?"
"That we did boy" said Mr Chisholm. "The youngsters thought it a capital
game, and the elders did not refuse to join in it. Yes, Harry, I made
you the totum, and by-and-bye we shall have a game."
"Let us have it now" cried the children springing up in eager
excitement. "Let us have it now; we have all brought our pins."
Mr Chisholm cheerfully acquiesced. The group gathered round a little
table, each with a stock of pins displayed, to be staked on the game now
about to be commenced. Look at the totum as Harry takes it up and
balances it between the thumb and second finger of the right hand. It is
only a piece of wood about half an inch long, cut away to a sharp point
below, and having a slender spike thrust in at the top to serve as a
handle. It is four square, and a letter is carved on each side--namely,
"T," "D," "N," and "A." Each player stakes a single pin, and each in
rotation gets his chance of whirling the totum. If, after whirling, the
totum falls with the letter "A" uppermost, all the stakes become the
prize of the player; if "T" is the uppermost letter he only takes one;
if "N" appears he gets nothing at all; while "D" obliges him to
contribute a pin from his private stock to the heap in the centre.
Every whirl comes to be watched with as much eagerness as if a fortune
depended on the result.
The nature of the game having been made sufficiently plain, Mr Chisholm
leads off with a whirl which sends the totum spinning round so fast as
to be almost invisible; but gradually relaxing its speed it falls at
last, exposing upon its upper surface the letter "N," carved, if not
with elegance, at least with sufficient plainness to show that it is a
veritable "N" and no other letter of the alphabet.
"Nickle nothing," shout the children, as they clap their hands with
delight.
Then Harry takes his turn. He holds the totum very carefully between his
finger and thumb, poising it with intense gravity; then looks at the
letter next him, twirls the toy backward and forward, and finally
propels it by a sudden jerk from his fingers. It whirls like a top for a
few seconds, watched by eager faces, and ultimately falls with the
letter "D" uppermost.
"D put down" bursts from the merry group; and the boy looks very
disappointed as he withdraws a pin from his private stock and places it
among the general deposit. Grandfather enters into the fun with as much
enthusiasm as the children, and the spirit of gambling has taken
possession of the New Year party.
The smallest girl--four years old--next takes the totum. She places it
between the thumb and forefinger, screws her mouth to make an effort,
and placing the point on the table gives it a whirl. It goes round three
or four times with a convulsive staggering motion, and at last falls,
"A" uppermost, amidst a general shout of laughter and applause.
"A, take them all--Lizzy has got the pins"--and the surprised and happy
child, proud of her success, gathers the heap to her own stock, while
the others each replace a stake.
So the lively little game proceeds amidst varying success. Possessions
grow and diminish as the totum makes its rounds; and before the game
ends Mr Chisholm is reduced to his last pin. He holds it up with rueful
countenance, confessing himself a ruined man, while the children clutch
their treasures, and boast of their success.
"Grandfather is beaten--is beaten at the totum" cried Mary as her father
and mother at length arrived. "He showed us how to play, and look at the
pins we have gained."
"May you always be as happy with your gains," said the old man resuming
his paternal attitude. "Now you know how we spent our Old New Years.
Sooans and shinty, and the totum--they were all simple maybe, but there
was pleasure in them all. Many a heart was lost at the 'sooans'; many a
hand made strong at shinty; and many a little head got its first notion
of worldly competition from the totum. Take your seats, boys and girls,
for here's the tea!"