In Chapter 3 of Rilla of Ingleside, Jem is excited over the news of looming war:

“We’re the cubs–we’ve got to pitch in tooth and claw if it comes to a family row,” Jem went on cheerfully, rumpling up his red curls with a strong, lean, sensitive brown hand–the hand of the born surgeon, his
father often thought. “What an adventure it would be! But I suppose Grey or some of those wary old chaps will patch matters up at the eleventh hour. It’ll be a rotten shame if they leave France in the lurch, though.
If they don’t, we’ll see some fun. Well, I suppose it’s time to get ready for the spree at the light.”

Jem departed whistling “Wi’ a hundred pipers and a’ and a’,” and Walter stood for a long time where he was. There was a little frown on his forehead.

A Hundred Pipers is a Scottish folksong.

A Hundred Pipers

Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
We’ll up an’ gie them a blaw, a blaw
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’.
O it’s owre the border awa’, awa’
It’s owre the border awa’, awa’
We’ll on an’ we’ll march to Carlisle ha’
Wi’ its yetts, its castle an’ a’, an a’.

Chorus:

Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
We’ll up an’ gie them a blaw, a blaw
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’.

O! our sodger lads looked braw, looked braw,
Wi’ their tartan kilts an’ a’, an’ a’,
Wi’ their bonnets an’ feathers an’ glitt’rin’ gear,
An’ pibrochs sounding loud and clear.
Will they a’ return to their ain dear glen?
Will they a’ return oor Heilan’ men?
Second sichted Sandy looked fu’ wae.
An’ mithers grat when they march’d away.
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
We’ll up an’ gie them a blaw, a blaw
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’.

O! wha’ is foremos o’ a’, o’ a’,
Oh wha’ is foremost o’ a’, o’ a’,
Bonnie Charlie the King o’ us a’, hurrah!
Wi’ his hundred pipers an’ a’, an ‘ a’.
His bonnet and feathers he’s waving high,
His prancing steed maist seems to fly,
The nor’ win’ plays wi’ his curly hair,
While the pipers play wi’an unco flare.
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
We’ll up an’ gie them a blaw, a blaw
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’.

The Esk was swollen sae red an’ sae deep,
But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;
Twa thousand swam owre to fell English ground
An’ danced themselves dry to the pibroch’s sound.
Dumfoun’er’d the English saw, they saw,
Dumfoun’er’d they heard the blaw, the blaw,
Dumfoun’er’d they a’ ran awa’, awa’,
Frae the hundred pipers an’ a’, an’ a’.
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
We’ll up an’ gie them a blaw, a blaw
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’.

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