Banquets in Winnipeg.
Banquets in the early days in Winnipeg were occasions for the gathering together of kindred spirits. The St. Andrew’s banquets were largely attended and one could always tell when 1st December came around by seeing the unusual number of dress-suited gentlemen in the places of public resort that morning. St. Andrew was a saint who couldn’t be properly honored in a few hours. The attendance was not exclusively confined to Hielan’men but many of other nationalities gladly joined in the festivities and kept them up with a merry whirl long after “God Save the Queen” had been loyally rendered.
The St. George’s Society also had great gatherings. At one, held in the early ’80’s in the now demolished Royal Arms Hotel, amongst the guests of the evening was Mr. McCroskie, the architect who repaired the hotel at the corner of Main and Broadway, and made it habitable. The old gentleman came togged up in his Sunday best and wore a top hat, which for safety he placed under his chair. As hilarity began to work its way about the table, this fact was whispered around, and a good many jokers of the practical type quietly dropped a plateful of tipsy cake or plum pudding or ice cream and goodness knows what else into the plug hat until it was nearly full to the brim. Then a devil-may-care party sitting across the table accused the victim of not being an Englishman, and trouble commenced. Enraged at the insult, Mac arose excitably from his seat, hastily grabbed his hat and after a few steps on his way to the door indignantly clapped it, contents and all, on his head. How that slushy stuff did pour down on his head and his shoulders was a caution. Some of us didn’t see the point of the joke—but were silenced by the thunderous laughter that followed.