Roamin’ in the gloamin’ (1928)

ROAMIN' IN THE GLOAMIN' 57 thrown up on a waste piece of ground) when the play "Macbeth" was being produced. He had the idea that some of his own family were being portrayed in the play. For a long time he sat and watched the action without ever saying a word. Then when Macduff killed Macbeth, old Rab rose in his seat, pointed a scornful finger at the dead Macbeth lying on the stage and cried out "What a lot o' dam' nonsense! You're no a real Macbeth or you wouldna' let a man like that (pointing in turn to Macduff) kill you! Besides, yer accent's a wrang — I don't believe yer a Macbeth at a'." With that he stalked out of the theatre in high dudgeon. His son was also a great admirer of the drama ; at least he was very fond of going to see all the travelling companies that came round Hamilton way. He was also a singer of sorts and had there been prizes for the biggest voices, Rab, Junior, would have scooped the pool. Once he went down to the Broomilaw at Glasgow to see his brother "Wull" away to Australia. From the quay-side he kept on shouting good-byes in such an ear-splitting voice that the other spectators had to put their hands up to protect their aural organs from destruction. As the steamer moved away from the pier Rab's stentorian shoutings to his relative became louder and louder. "Good-bye, Wull, mind, an' write! DINNA FORGET TO WRITE, WULL! IF YE DINNA WRITE, WULL, I'LL NEVER SPEAK TO YE AGAIN!" And so on, every command to write getting louder and louder as the ship edged further and further down the Clyde. At last a man standing near turned to Rab and said, "There'll be nae need for Wull to write; just roar a bit louder, ye , and he'll hear you in Australia!" Two or three years after I had been his boy at the coalface, Rab met me in the street one day and told me that he was giving a grand competition concert in one of the local halls and that if I would enter for the "comics" he would see