The Road to Dumbiedykes 



educated Scot, and his wife, Patricia 

 Clay, of gentle Border birth, lived in 

 comfort and dressed for dinner every 

 night. You can't deny a Briton-born 

 his "tub" or his dinner coat no matter 

 where you may maroon him. He will 

 cling to his inherited habits in spite of 

 all and any ordinary obstacles. And 

 so we spent, once upon a time, a most 

 delightful holiday as members of a 

 jolly party at this hospitable ranch- 

 house of the southeast Texas plains. 

 There were long gallops on the ponies, 

 or rides in the "ambulance" by day, 

 and "doings" every night. Five 

 o'clock tea came in between of course. 

 But as darkness settled down upon the 

 range there came the glow of lamps, the 

 radiance of ladies in evening dress, the 

 cheery tinkle of cracked ice, good ser- 

 vice, a famous dinner, coffee and cigars, 

 then music, singing, maybe dancing, 

 or charades, and at last "good night" 

 out on the porch beneath the brilliant 

 southern stars! 



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