TRIAL OF THE BRAES CROFTERS. 35 



Flourished their batons bare, 

 Not in the empty air 

 Clubbing the lasses there, 

 Charging the Cailleachs, while 



All Scotland wondered ! 

 Plunged in the mist and smoke, 

 Right thro' the line they broke ; 

 Cailleach and maiden 

 Reeled from the baton stroke, 



Shattered and sundered ; 

 Then they marched back intact 



All the half-hundred. 



Missiles to right of them, 

 Brickbats to left of them, 

 Old wives behind them 



Volleyed and floundered. 

 Stormed at with stone and shell 

 Whilst only Ivory fell 

 They that had fought so well 

 Broke thro' the Island Host, 

 Back from the mouth of well ! 

 All that was left of them 



All the half-hundred ! 



When can their glory fade ? 

 O, the wild charge they made ! 



All Scotland wondered ! 

 Honour the charge they made ! 

 Honour the Skye Brigade ! 



Donald's half-hundred ! 



ALFRED TENNYSON, JUNIOR. 



TRIAL OF THE BRAES CROFTERS. 



WHEN the " Battle of the Braes " had been fought and won, 

 and the gallant Sheriff with his brave contingent of blue- 

 coats covered with the mud of the Braes and the glory of 



