When David MacLaren was away herding he went every night to ceilidh [visit] with his master. There would be six other old men, who were ‘awful comic’. The same crowd came to the ceilidh house every night; each had his own seat around the peat fire and everyone had a turn to tell a story. It was a social gaffe if they didn't come. The stories were very funny. One told of a time at sheep clipping [shearing] when the men were eating their broth outside. A man tasted the broth and got burned, but told the others it was cold, so they got burned too and splattered broth all over the place. They cursed him up hill and down dale. There might be twenty men clipping sheep over a period of days. David MacLaren’s father was grieve [farm overseer] there.