Roamin’ in the gloamin’ (1928)

44 ROAMIN' IN THE GLOAMIN' It was while we were living in Arbroath that I started to sing. Like many more people in the world I have always been rather fond of hearing my own voice ! Even as a very small boy I used to imitate my father when he hummed or sang some of the old Scottish lyrics. I cannot say that my father was a good vocalist because I don't remember. But he was aye croonin' awa' at some snatch of melody. One day he turned to my mother and said, "This wean's going to be a singer, Isa !" And he thereupon began to teach me the words and melody of "Draw the Sword, Scotland." I had as much idea of what drawing a sword for Scotland meant as of Greek Iambics — and if I was on the scaffold today I couldn't tell you what these are, but I saw the words in a book I happened to pick up yesterday ! So I learned this song and one or two others, including a most melancholy ditty entitled, "I'm a Gentleman Still." The tune to which this song was set had an extremely sorrowful wail about it and it became a sort of obsession with me. It never left me for years. I would start singing or humming it at any time and in any circumstances. You know the sort of thing I mean — a tune takes hold of you to such an extent that you simply can't get it out of your head. You begin to hate the damnable iteration of its cadences. You try your best to forget it. But it is impossible. That's how it was with me so far as this song was concerned. And one night an event happened which was to focus this dreadful song even more firmly in my mind. My mother had insisted on my joining the Band of Hope. Probably she had noted very early symptoms of depravity in me in the way of an affection for tobacco and thought that I would be safeguarded from other vices by "signing the pledge" and coming under the influence of the Blue Ribbon Army. In these days the Scottish teetotallers and the Band of Hope boys all wore a blue ribbon to demonstrate to the world their detestation of strong drink. If you