The Reporter.

Southern Cross, Volume 11, Issue 14, 4 July 1903, Page 7

The Reporter.

CALEDONIAN SOCIETY OF SOUTHLAND.

ANNUAL SOCIAL.

The office - bearers of the above Society are ideal hosts. The yearly social is among the most popular events of the year, and on Tuesday evening Ashley’s Hall was taxed to accommodate their guests, some of whom, with pleasant memories ot past gatherings, had travelled, far in order to be present. The Pipe Band, under Mr James MacGregor, played the Assembly, and soon the wellfilled tables, for whose appetising contents Messrs Kingsland and Son were responsible, were crowded. The directors of the Society, conspicuous in their bonnets and plaids, flitted here, there, and everywhere, with “A little more trifle,” “ Another cup of tea,” and “ Can I get anything for you ?” and never ceased from their labours until one and all had been made to feel at home and had enjoyed their share of the good things going. Mr T. A. Wallace, the genial President of the Society, made an admirable chairman, and in opening the proceedings, referred briefly to the work done by the Society in fostering athletics and Scottish music and literature. He mentioned incidentally that owing to the conversion of the Theatre Royal into business premises, and the fact that Zealandia Hall would be filled with wool, the usual New Year concert would have to be omitted, but it was thought that the blank might be filled by an elaborate display of fireworks in the Queen’s Park, The concert was auspiciously opened by Mrs V. Ekensteen, who gave a charming rendering of the old favourite, “ Jock o’ Hazeldean,” Mi C. E, Griffiths pictured the dangers of the sea in his song “ Asleep on the Deep,” and Mrs Andrews sang with fine expression and delicacy one of the gems of Scottish minstrelsy—- “ We’d better bide awee.” Then came the event of the evening in the shape of a series of presentations to Mr Charles Wyeth, who was long a competitor at the games, and who has for over 20 years, discharged the onerous duties of handicapper. The chairman, having borne testimony to the long and loyal service of the recipient, said the Society had decided to make Mr Wyeth a life member, and to present him with the director’s regalia he was then wearing bonnet, plaid, and brooch—he would be the only director who could say these were his own property. But the Society, joined by the Irish Athletic Society and other friends, felt that Mr Wyeth’s services deserved still farther recognition, and they therefore asked his acceptance of a handsome gold chronograph watch. The watch was obtained from Mr Ashton, jeweller, and bore Mr Wyeth’s monogram - and the following inscription : —“ Presented to Charles Wyeth, Esq., by the Caledonian Society of Southland, and numerous friends on his retirement from the position of handicapper after twenty years service.” “ May you be long spared to wear it,” said the President, as he handed the watch to Mr Wyeth, and the wish was enthusiastically re-echoed by the company. Mr W. Martin, one of the directors, said it gave him great pleasure to be present to do honour to such a valued memheh of the Society as their old friend Charlie Wyeth. He recalled the long years of ungrudging service done by Mr Wyeth. “I hope,” concluded Mr Martin, “ that he will long be able to wear the watch, and that for many years to come we shall see his familiar form at our sports, wearing the cap and feather and the bonny tartan plaidie, the emblem of true Caledonia.”

Mr J. A. Mitchell, another director, said that one thing puzzled him —“ this lovely gold watch bears the words ‘ Charles Wyeth, Esq.,’ but Mr Martin called him poor old Charlie, (daughter.) How does the

I chairman reconcile this ?” Mr. Mitchell then took the chairman to, task with inimitable gravity for having I basely exposed the fact that the directors were not “ wearin’ their ain I claes,” and then went on to refer to the invaluable work Mr Wyeth had done in the service of the Society. Mr J. Shepherd, on behalf of the ! Irish Athletic Society, also testified to the worth of Mr Wyeth’s services. Mr Wyeth, in acknowledging the gifts, regretted that he could nor. put his feelings into words. Himself an old competitor, he had taken the position of handicapper in order to maintain his interest in athletics, never dreaming of fee or reward. The directors had treated him splendidly, and had supported him well in the discharge of what were in the nature of the case thankless duties. He was too old for the work now, and would not take it on again even if Mr Wallace Murdoch should happen to resign. (Mr J. A. Mitchell: I’m not so sure.) Mr Wyeth: I’m too old for athletics now—(A voice ; You can’t leave ua, Charlie) —and will have to stand at ease in future.” Mr James MacGregor dealt in a recitation with the humours of “A Wee Scotch Nicht,” Mr B. B. Godward contributed a jodelling song with good effect, and then the company were introduced by the chairman to “ our distinguished visitor,” Mr Alaster Ronald MaoKenzie, late of the 92nd Gordon Highlanders, and for ten years in the late Sir Hector Macdonald’s regiment. Mr MacKenzie’s part in the programme was to give a short sketch of a soldier’s sensations under fire, and for this purpose he took the audience on the historic march made by Lord Roberts and his men from Oabul to Kahdahar, describing the attack made by the forces on one of tbe outlying villages of the city under cover of an artillery fire. With shells from the British battery flying overhead, the men rushed against the enemy, and eventually dislodged them. There was no attempt at word-painting, but the story was told with a homely force and vividesss only possible to one who had taken part in the events described, and it rivetted attention in a way that a more ornate narrative conld never have done. (Mr McKenzie was to lecture last night in Ashley’s Hall in aid of the fund being raised for the education of the late Sir Hector McDonald’s son, and will afterwards visit the country districts for the same purpose). The company had barely emerged from the warlike atmosphere created by Mr McKenzie’s graphic recital of Indian military life when Mrs ForbesWilliams stepped forward and took them back to mutiny days with a fine rendering of “ Jessie’s Dream.’ Encored, she responded with “ Cornin’ through the Rye.” Mr Carl Collier proved that in the hands of a master the banjo is an instrument with great possibilities, and in an encore number some of these were revealed. Mrs Clayton evidently believes that not only should the action suit the word, but the dress also, and as she came on the stage with hood on head and creel on shoulder a round ot applause greeted the typical Scottish fishwife, to be renewed even more heartily when “ Caller Herrin’ ” had been sung and enjoyed. Mr Geo. McAlpine revels in Scottish humour, and his songs were greatly appreciated, Mrs Blue, without whom a Caledonian concert would resemble Hamlet minus the Prince, sang “ Scotland Yet ” with alb her wonted spirit, responding to a demand for an encore with “ Loch Lomond.” Mr C. Booth recited “ Christmas Day in the Workhouse.” It was remarkably well done—almost too painful in its tragic intensity for such a gathering. Mr C. R. Andrews come last with a comic song, or rather a series of them, for he was doubly encored, and when the audience found that he had finished they were almost as much disappointed as were the Irishmen who discovered that there was no whisky in a conversazione. The accompaniments were played by Mrs Blue and Mrs Andrews. Mr A. Bain, Vic-president, thanked all who had contributed to the success

of the gathering. . The floor was then cleared for dancing, which was kept up by the youth and beauty present till nearly three a.m. to the strains of music discoursed by Mrs Blue and Mr Edwards. Mr D. A. Mitchell was in the right place as M.C. At intervals songs were given by Mesdames Andrews, Bkensteen and Forbes-Wil-liams, Mr James Galt gave a stump speech and was encored, and Mr A. Jamieson danced the Highland Fling. Finally “ Auld Lang Syne,” after which a tired but thoroughly happy throng, voting enough as good as a feast, dispersed.