Cinder Path Tales

CINDER-PATH TALES down from Boston a good three hundred strong, men, women, and children, the last turning out a whole clan by themselves. There were bagpipes squealing, babies cry­ ing, and a Babel of rough Scotch tongues. Tartans were displayed in all the colors of the rainbow. Some were content toshow only a tie, ribbon, or shawl, but a fair percentage were in full Highland costume, andfar from comfortable many of them looked. The dress is wonderfullypicturesque, and nothing is more becoming to an athletic man with straight legs and strong brown knees. But for a petty tradesman with legs like pipe-stems, knock-kneed, and ghastly white it is particularly trying, and many of the gallantScots looked as if they would like to don the protecting " breeks" to which they had become accustomed. We all piled into the hotand dusty cars, and after an hour and a half were glad to get abreath offresh airas we steamed down the bay. Indeed, when we reached the " Point," a little before noon, Iwas loath to go ashore, for the trees on a ridge of land cut off the wind, and the place was likea furnace. Nothing lookedcomfortable but a pair of bronze lions who flanked the roadway to the hotel, and had they been alive I am sure