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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40664 ***
+
+The Wee Scotch Piper
+
+[Illustration: THE WEE SCOTCH PIPER]
+
+
+
+
+_The_ WEE SCOTCH PIPER
+
+BY
+
+MADELINE BRANDEIS
+
+_Producer of the Motion Pictures_
+
+  "The Little Indian Weaver"
+  "The Wee Scotch Piper"
+  "The Little Dutch Tulip Girl"
+  "The Little Swiss Wood-Carver"
+
+Distributed by Pathé Exchange, Inc., New York City
+
+_Photographic Illustrations made in Scotland by the Author_
+
+  GROSSET & DUNLAP
+  PUBLISHERS  NEW YORK
+  _by arrangement with the A. Flanagan Company_
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1929, BY A. FLANAGAN COMPANY
+
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+When I began to write these stories about children of all lands I had
+just returned from Europe whither I journeyed with Marie and Ref. Maybe
+you don't know Marie and Ref. I'll introduce them: Please meet Marie,
+my very little daughter, and Ref, my very big reflex camera.
+
+These two are my helpers. Marie helps by being a little girl who knows
+what other little girls like and by telling me; and Ref helps by
+snapping pictures of everything interesting that Marie and I see on our
+travels. I couldn't get along without them.
+
+Several years have gone by since we started our work together and Marie
+is a bigger girl--but Ref hasn't changed one bit. Ref hasn't changed
+any more than my interest in writing these books for you. And I hope
+that _you_ hope that I'll never change, because I want to keep on
+writing until we'll have no more countries to write about--unless, of
+course, some one discovers a new country.
+
+Even if a new country isn't discovered, we'll find foreign children to
+talk about--maybe the children in Mars! Who knows? Nobody. Not even
+Marie--and Marie usually knows about most things. That's the reason
+why, you see, though I sign myself
+
+[Handwritten: Madeline Brandeis]
+
+I am really only
+
+Marie's Mother.
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+  To every child of every land,
+    Little sister, little brother,
+  As in this book your lives unfold,
+    May you learn to love each other.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ Chapter I                      Page
+ The Craig Family                 11
+
+ Chapter II
+ Sandy's First Visit              28
+
+ Chapter III
+ Pipers                           44
+
+ Chapter IV
+ Sandy Returns                    53
+
+ Chapter V
+ Through Scotland With Sandy      71
+
+ Chapter VI
+ Ian's Betty                      91
+
+ Chapter VII
+ Alan Craig Tells a Story        102
+
+ Chapter VIII
+ Pipers and Troubles             113
+
+ Chapter IX
+ Ian Tries Again                 129
+
+ Chapter X
+ Spring                          138
+
+ Chapter XI
+ The Wee Scotch Piper            153
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE SOUND OF HIS PIPES ECHOED BACK THROUGH THE GLEN]
+
+
+
+
+The Wee Scotch Piper
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE CRAIG FAMILY
+
+
+In the wee village of Aberfoyle, which is in Perthshire County,
+Scotland, lived Alan Craig, a shepherd.
+
+The sheep of Scotland, like the bagpipes and bluebells, are famous, and
+in Aberfoyle there are many.
+
+Dotted alongside the road are the bright bluebells, lighting up in true
+fairy array the darkness made by big, shady trees.
+
+Shrieking through the stillness of a summer evening, comes the sound of
+the bagpipes. This music is furnished by a tattered piper marching up
+and down, up and down. He hopes that the people will throw pennies for
+the love of the tune he plays.
+
+And the sheep, like little dots of white in the green meadows, graze.
+But sometimes, they, too, shriek when they are herded together, perhaps
+for the clipping.
+
+When the sheep all bleat together, it sounds very much like the
+shrieking of the bagpipes. Maybe that is how the bagpipe was really
+started. Perhaps the sound was first uttered by a herd of Scotch sheep!
+
+It was not yet clipping time on the small farm of Alan Craig. His sheep
+still roamed the hills. Their heavy, curly wool weighed them down and
+made them look as if they had on long, woollen nighties.
+
+[Illustration: SCOTLAND IS FULL OF SHEEP]
+
+The babies sometimes walked right under their mothers, and then they
+were completely hidden.
+
+On a hill sat Alan Craig, and by his side his faithful dog, Roy. Roy
+was a real sheep dog and was proud of his profession.
+
+You know, when people are called professionals, it means that they are
+trained in one occupation. Of course, people make money at their
+professions, and this was the only difference between Roy and a
+professional human.
+
+Roy was a professional sheep dog, but he did his work out of devotion
+to his master. Also he did it because it was in his blood to love to
+race the timid sheep over the hills and obey his master's commands.
+
+"Back, Roy!" shouted Alan Craig.
+
+Roy jumped to his feet and, barking, ran to bring back the flock, which
+had disappeared around a rocky mountain.
+
+"Bowwow-wow!" The sheep heard him coming and, stupid creatures that
+they are, started to run the other way. "Bowwow!"
+
+"Down, sir, down!" came the voice of Alan Craig from afar, and Roy
+understood.
+
+Silently he made a dash for the leading sheep and, bounding ahead of
+the herd, he stood on guard. His feet were planted apart, and his
+tongue hung out. He was barking in his own language a short Scotch
+bark, which meant, "Now, will you go back?"
+
+All but the leading sheep began to turn. That leader was, however, a
+mother sheep with a loved baby. She had always been very suspicious of
+Roy.
+
+Perhaps he had once snapped at her baby, for he often had to do this to
+make the sheep behave. At any rate, the mother sheep could not forgive
+him. Without any fear, she now sprang toward Roy and butted her head in
+defiance.
+
+[Illustration: THE VILLAGE OF ABERFOYLE]
+
+Roy stood his ground and then made a plunge at her legs. Meanwhile, he
+let out a shrill bark as one of her sharp horns hit his leg. It was a
+short but hard battle.
+
+At last Roy returned to his master, his tongue nearly sweeping the
+ground. But there was a triumphant expression in his eyes as he drove
+the crowd of panting sheep into a circle around Alan Craig and threw
+himself at his master's feet to await his reward.
+
+This was not long in coming. Alan Craig appreciated his helper. In fact
+Roy was really the shepherd. Alan had only to speak his commands--"work
+his dog," as the Scotch say--and Roy did the rest.
+
+Now he stroked his dog and said, "Good, Roy! Well done!"
+
+Alan's language was well understood by Roy, but these words would have
+sounded this way to you: "Gude, Roy! Weel dune!" had Alan spoken in
+the Scotch dialect to Roy.
+
+He could speak very good English, and did when he spoke to Englishmen.
+But you see, Roy was a Scotchman!
+
+From the little white cottage in the hollow came the smell of
+dinner--fresh pancakes and meat cooking.
+
+Alan picked up his crook--the kind that little Bopeep used--only Alan
+did not look like little Bopeep. Indeed, he was very different.
+
+He was a big strong man. Although we picture a Scotch shepherd dressed
+in kilts and socks and perhaps a tam, Alan Craig wore none of these.
+Kilts and socks and tams are for the gentry, Alan would tell you, and
+shepherds are too poor to afford them.
+
+[Illustration: MRS. CRAIG AND IAN'S BABY SISTER AT THE VILLAGE PUMP]
+
+So Alan wore an old suit which might have once been worn by your own
+father and then given away to some beggar. Alan was poor like most of
+the villagers, for Scotland is rather a poor country.
+
+Still, in the little village of Aberfoyle, everyone was happy. In the
+evenings the people from the big city of Glasgow came in big buses.
+They danced outside on the village green to the tune of the pipes,
+while they gloried in the fresh country air.
+
+So you must not think that Alan Craig and his family suffered. Indeed,
+there could hardly have been a happier little family in Scotland.
+
+That evening Alan wended his way homeward and was met by his wife and
+baby. If you have ever seen how an Indian mother carries her baby, then
+you will know how Mrs. Craig carried hers. Only instead of carrying it
+on her back as the Indians do, she carried it in front wrapped securely
+in her plaid shawl.
+
+Her one arm was thus free, and she worked most of the day this way,
+while knowing and feeling her little one safe in her arms.
+
+The family sat down to dinner in their wee kitchen, for the farmers
+have no such luxury as a dining room. They started their soup, a thick
+broth made of barley and vegetables of all kinds. Mother Craig poured
+it out of the big tureen.
+
+Just at this time, the door burst open, and a ruddy-faced boy of ten
+years rushed into the room.
+
+[Illustration: IAN CRAIG]
+
+"Ian Craig, do you know the hour?" asked Mother Craig.
+
+The boy stood in the doorway and smiled at the family. He sniffed with
+delight the pleasant odor coming to him from the table.
+
+"Ay, Mother," answered the boy. "Well do I know."
+
+Then he prepared to take his place at the table, with a gesture of
+rubbing his stomach in thinking of what was to be put inside.
+
+"What a bonny smell, Mother!" he continued. "And surely the taste is
+even bonnier!"
+
+"'Tis the glib tongue you have, Ian Craig," laughed his father. "You
+could write poetry to the smell of a good dinner! And now, what have
+you to tell us to-night?"
+
+Now, Ian was always full of stories and tales of adventure. He was one
+of those children to whom something exciting is always happening.
+
+[Illustration: ALAN CRAIG, IAN, AND ROY]
+
+So the family were quite accustomed to having him return home with
+vivid tales. Some were strange, some droll and, alas, some sad and
+painful, told to the tune of bandages and arnica.
+
+Still, what boy is not sometimes hurt? And Ian's accidents were few, in
+comparison to his other experiences. Surely, it is to be wondered how,
+in a small, quiet town like Aberfoyle, so many wondrous happenings
+could occur.
+
+Sometimes Ian was doubted, not, however, by his parents, who knew that
+their son was truthful. The schoolmaster knew it, too, and was proud of
+Ian, whose stories and poems were the best in his class.
+
+One day he was recounting to a group of spellbound school children his
+experiences of the day. He was relating what wondrous happenings had
+befallen him, when he was interrupted by a boy who shouted, "Ian Craig
+is telling lies!"
+
+The boy was a year older than Ian, but he was never known to make sport
+of Ian again. Nor did Ian ever admit to his parents how it happened
+that he arrived home from school that day with a swollen eye.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+SANDY'S FIRST VISIT
+
+
+Aberfoyle is the center of the "Rob Roy country." Rob Roy MacGregor
+was, as every child knows, a great Scotch warrior and represented one
+of the oldest Highland clans.
+
+In Aberfoyle, where Ian Craig lived, stands the old house in which Sir
+Walter Scott wrote his famous story "Rob Roy." To-day it houses the
+village minister.
+
+Near by is a tumble-down thatched cottage known as "Jean McAlpin's
+Inn," where Rob Roy was wont to rest.
+
+[Illustration: THE "ROB ROY BRIG" AND THE HOUSE WHERE WALTER SCOTT
+WROTE "ROB ROY"]
+
+A landmark in the village is the old "Rob Roy Brig." Here on the old
+brig (which means "bridge" in Scotch) Ian would sit when school was out
+and his chores at home were finished.
+
+Something usually happened when he sat here, and many of his
+experiences had started from this bridge. Often, while he waited for
+adventure, Ian fished from the bridge. He brought home fine, fat
+morsels, for the river Forth, which flows beneath the bridge, is rich
+in fish.
+
+But Ian's dearest memory was of Sandy. The Sandy adventure had taken
+place almost a year before, but it was as vivid in Ian's mind as though
+it had all occurred the day before.
+
+It happened while Ian was fishing from the brig. He heard the sound of
+bagpipes--a sound that is nothing unusual to hear in Scotland. Still it
+always made Ian joyous and sad at once. And now he turned to listen.
+
+[Illustration: SANDY MACGREGOR]
+
+This playing was the loveliest he had ever heard. Jamie Robinson played
+almost every night in front of the old hotel, and Ian loved the music.
+But this playing was different. He had always thought Jamie's playing
+good, but he now wondered how he could ever have thought so.
+
+This tune was from far away, but it carried across the meadow and along
+the road. And then he saw Sandy! Sandy was standing still in the middle
+of the road while he played.
+
+By his side was a handcart, and Ian knew at once what it meant. Sandy
+was a wandering piper, a man who has no home, a gypsy. He piped for his
+living and camped on the road.
+
+Many pipers passed through Aberfoyle, some with large families. In
+fact, Jamie was one of them, only Jamie did not travel. He lived in the
+woods near Aberfoyle in a tent with his wife and babies.
+
+[Illustration: GYPSIES OF THE HIGHWAY]
+
+But no one had ever played like this before. Ian ran up the road. As he
+approached the newcomer, he could see that the piper was a little old
+man. He had a kindly, wrinkled face, and twinkling eyes which winked at
+Ian as the boy came closer. Then suddenly he changed his tune.
+
+"Bonny laddie, Highland laddie," shrieked the pipes.
+
+Ian stopped in front of the piper and thought he should cry. The music
+ceased.
+
+A hand was laid on Ian's shoulder, and a voice asked, "And why, laddie,
+do you stand and look with eyes so big and sad?"
+
+Ian then realized that he had been staring as if in a trance. He
+brought himself back to earth, smiled, and put out his hand.
+
+"I'm sorry, sir. I was only admiring your bonny piping!"
+
+"Ach!" laughed the piper. "And I was only admiring the bonny laddie!
+What's your name?"
+
+"Ian Craig."
+
+[Illustration: "MA NAME'S SANDY!"]
+
+"And mine's Sandy. You may call me Sandy, though my name's really Evert
+Robert MacKeith MacGregor, and my great-grandfather was a cousin to
+the great Rob Roy."
+
+With these words, Sandy MacGregor put his pipes into his cart. Then,
+slinging the rope over his shoulders, he started to pull his load
+along, while Ian kept step with him.
+
+"And a fine village this is--the scene of my ancestor's home! Do you
+live here, my lad?"
+
+"Ay, Sandy, and not far from old Rob Roy Brig."
+
+"Well, well," sighed Sandy. "And could we bide a wee on the old brig of
+my ancestor while Sandy rests?"
+
+"Ay, could we," said Ian with great delight, "and I can pull your cart
+for you, Sandy, until we get there."
+
+Gratefully the old man allowed the boy to pull his load, while he
+stretched his tired arms. He breathed in the sweet-smelling air of the
+village of his ancestor.
+
+When they came to the bridge, Ian put down the cart. He invited Sandy
+to sit beside him on the wall, his usual perch. The old man jumped up
+to the boy's side, as spry as the boy himself, and looked around.
+
+"Well, well," he said, "and to think 'tis Sandy's first visit to the
+home of his ancestor--Sandy who has been nigh all over the land!"
+
+At these words Ian's heart gave a bound, and he said, "Have you seen
+nigh all of bonny Scotland, Sandy?"
+
+[Illustration: SANDY TELLS THE LAD ABOUT BONNY SCOTLAND]
+
+"Ay, that have I, lad, and traveled on my own two feet through it all."
+
+"Sandy," said Ian wistfully, "would you be telling me about it?"
+
+"Ach, ay, laddie," smiled the old wanderer. "That would I, for 'tis
+many a fine sight these old eyes have seen."
+
+Sandy talked, and the boy listened. The sun grew lower and lower in the
+heavens. Ian Craig thought that never before had he known an afternoon
+to slip by so quickly.
+
+Sandy told Ian about the time he had visited Edinburgh, Scotland's
+capital, and one of the most attractive cities in the world.
+
+He told of Princes Street, with its sunken gardens on one side, and
+its wonderful view of historic Edinburgh Castle, its pretty shops and
+stately monuments. It is considered by many to be the most beautiful
+street in all the world.
+
+[Illustration: PRINCES STREET, EDINBURGH]
+
+On the top of a winding hill is Edinburgh Castle. Here, in the
+courtyard of the old castle is Half-Moon Battery, where is kept the
+one-o'clock gun.
+
+This gun fires every day at the hour of one. It is attached by electric
+wire to the time ball on the top of Nelson's Monument on Carlton Hill
+opposite. This ball falls, in turn, at a signal from Greenwich
+Observatory, near London, where is set the time for the whole world.
+
+In another part of the castle grounds can be found a pathetic little
+plot of ground known as "The Dogs' Cemetery." Here are buried the pets
+of the soldiers who fought in the World War.
+
+[Illustration: THE DOGS' CEMETERY]
+
+Many of these little beasts were gallant heroes and were buried with
+great reverence. Lovely flowers decorate their graves, and inscriptions
+tell of each one's valor.
+
+But to one little dog in particular was a fountain erected. It stands
+in one of the streets of Edinburgh. This fountain represents
+"Greyfriars' Bobby," as the little dog was called.
+
+He was given this name because it was to the old Greyfriars Churchyard
+that he went, day after day, to seek his master, who was buried there.
+The caretakers of the cemetery tried to keep him out.
+
+Still day after day he came. He always lay upon the grave of his master
+and grieved, until one day they found him dead. And now the fountain is
+there to remind the people of this faithful little creature.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+PIPERS
+
+
+"Do you think my dog would grieve if I should die?" asked Ian, as he
+brushed away a tear with his sleeve and tried to distract Sandy's
+attention from his action.
+
+"Ay, if you treat him kindly, lad," answered the old man. "Beasties are
+faithful to us when they know we love them."
+
+"Ay," said Ian. "Roy is faithful, and a smart sheep dog, too."
+
+"Do you like fine to herd the sheep, laddie?" asked Sandy.
+
+Ian hung his head.
+
+"No, Sandy. I like finer to go about and have adventures and make up
+that I am--" He hesitated.
+
+"What, lad? Speak. Do not be afraid of Sandy for he knows the hearts of
+laddies well."
+
+"If I could play the pipes, Sandy, I would go away and be a piper in
+the band some day," confessed Ian.
+
+This was, indeed, a dream so near to his heart that he had never before
+spoken it aloud. After the admission, Ian turned his head away and did
+not look at Sandy. But the old man's voice was very soft and his tone
+caressing, as he said, "And a fine dream it is, Ian lad, for to be a
+piper is a great and honored calling."
+
+"Ay," answered Ian huskily, "but 'tis not for me, Sandy."
+
+Sandy turned the boy around then and looked him squarely in the eye.
+
+"Ian, lad, do not speak so, for nothing is too hard to get when you
+want it."
+
+Ian's eyes lighted up for a moment. Then the same forlorn look came
+into them as he let his head droop.
+
+"No, Sandy. The pipes are too dear, and it takes many months to learn
+to play."
+
+"And you study hard at school, lad?" asked the piper.
+
+"Ay, do I," spoke the boy.
+
+"Then some day, you'll be liking to hear of the fine military school I
+saw."
+
+[Illustration: THE PIPER LADDIES]
+
+"Ach, Sandy, tell me about it. Have you really seen it?" Ian was at
+once alert.
+
+"Ay, that have I, and only three weeks ago when I was passing by
+Dunblane."
+
+As the poor little village lad drank in his words, Sandy talked on
+about the wonderful school in Dunblane. This school is called the Queen
+Victoria School. Here lads between the ages of nine and fifteen are
+trained as soldiers.
+
+They are sons of military men, some of whom fell in the World War.
+These boys are reared and taught free of charge. It is a great and good
+school for a boy to attend.
+
+[Illustration: THE DRUM MAJOR]
+
+To see and hear these sons of Scotland's heroes is an experience never
+to be forgotten. They present a fine appearance in their bright-colored
+kilts and military trappings, as they march and play upon their pipes.
+
+Sandy saw and heard, and carried away with him a memory of the
+loveliest sight and sound imaginable. Coming toward him were boys.
+Children they were, with their kilts making a vivid pattern.
+
+Their bare knees moved in perfect unison as they stepped to the tunes
+of Scotland's patriotic melodies. They played in a way unsurpassed by
+pipers older and more experienced than they.
+
+First came a waltz, gracefully played and gracefully stepped. Then came
+a march, loud, fast, but always in perfect harmony. The sound might
+have come from a single organ played, perhaps, by Scottish cherubim.
+
+The drum major wore a plumed helmet and carried a baton. He was only
+fourteen years old, but he twirled his stick and marched like a veteran
+of many wars.
+
+[Illustration: THE DRUMMER BOY]
+
+The little twelve-year-old drummer swung his drumsticks into the air
+and caught them again. He never missed a beat on his drum. The rest,
+pipers all, marched and played. Their cheeks puffed in and out, while
+their fingers moved and made melodies.
+
+Throughout the hills echoed the sound. It was the same as echoed during
+the Battle of Bannockburn, when Scottish history was made. To these
+tunes, in this same rugged country marched, years ago, these lads'
+ancestors.
+
+And Sandy carried his memories of Queen Victoria School back to Ian
+Craig. Ian's longing to become a piper grew greater as he listened. In
+his heart he uttered a silent prayer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SANDY RETURNS
+
+
+Though his meeting with Sandy had happened many months before, neither
+the memory of Sandy nor of the pipers had dimmed in Ian's mind. Through
+his hours of work and play his thoughts turned to marching Highland
+laddies and shrieking pipes.
+
+He would often imagine himself as one of their number. Indeed, often on
+his walks to school he would "make believe," as so many children call
+it. People would turn to see why the little boy in kilts marched so
+straight and puffed his cheeks out.
+
+Ian wore kilts, though his father did not. Many of the children went to
+school in their kilts. Yet many could not afford to do this and wore
+them only on Sundays.
+
+Ian, however, had a school kilt and a Sunday kilt and was very proud of
+his wardrobe. One of the main reasons for his pride lay in the fact
+that in kilts he could better imagine himself a piper.
+
+Marching alone one morning, he met Elsie. Elsie was only a wee lass,
+far younger than Ian. But she liked the tall boy who always smiled at
+her and who walked so straight.
+
+Ian liked Elsie better than the other lassies, who did not understand,
+as Elsie did, the importance and grandeur of pipers. Besides, the
+others were either too freckled, or their cheeks too red.
+
+[Illustration: IAN'S SCHOOL]
+
+Some Scotch children have the complexions of bright sunsets. Ian liked
+Elsie's bonny face, with the few little freckles on her nose, and her
+sunny smile.
+
+This morning Elsie overtook him as he was marching to his own silent
+drone of pipes.
+
+"Do not march so, Ian. The children will be laughing at you when you
+reach the school. I heard them saying you're daft about pipers, and I
+thought I'd tell you," she said.
+
+Ian looked down into the little maiden's blue eyes. She, too, was
+dressed in a kilt. She wore over it a red jersey.
+
+Unlike Ian, she did not have the sporran. That is what the Scotch call
+the piece of fur hanging down in front of the kilt. Each child's kilt
+was, however, pinned on the side with a large safety pin--which is the
+style in wearing kilts.
+
+[Illustration: KILTED SCHOOL CHILDREN]
+
+Elsie's hair was done in two braids, which hung down her back. Though
+he resented what she told him, Ian thought she was very sweet. For she
+looked at him in a way that made his resentment soon fade.
+
+Smiling, he said, "Thanks, Elsie. I'll not march now."
+
+Silently they walked together. Ian was very near telling his little
+friend about his dreams.
+
+But while he was weighing the probable outcome of such a move, the
+school bell rang. It was half past nine, the time that school in
+Scotland starts in the springtime. Ian and Elsie ran.
+
+At one o'clock, Ian went home to his lunch. Elsie stayed, for her home
+was far away. She brought her "piece," which is what the Scotch
+children call their lunch. No doubt the word refers to their piece of
+bread, which, with an apple, is sometimes all they get.
+
+At home, Ian's mother always had waiting for him a plate of Scotch
+broth, potatoes, and sometimes an apple tart. After school Ian was
+drawn to the bridge.
+
+The work at home was not pressing to-day. Father was away with the
+sheep. Mother did not need Ian. His heart was light as he started off
+for the old brig. He walked along with the hope of adventure, while in
+his ears the imaginary sound of pipes played.
+
+"Ian, wait," called Elsie, and ran after him.
+
+Ian stopped and remembered that he had almost told her. How could a wee
+lass like that understand? No. He would not speak. What was more, he
+would not let her come along, for he knew that was what she wanted to
+do.
+
+"Are you going fishing from the brig?" asked Elsie blithely.
+
+"Ay," answered Ian sulkily, as he stepped ahead of her.
+
+"May I go with you, Ian?" queried the small girl.
+
+"No, Elsie. You're too wee for fishing, and you scare the fish."
+
+Elsie's lip quivered. Ian feared she would cry right out on the road.
+Then what would he do?
+
+"Ach, don't cry, lass. Run home to your mother, for 'tis late for you
+to be out, and she'll be worried."
+
+It was all said kindly but much too eagerly. Elsie, who was keen, did
+not doubt for a moment that she was not wanted.
+
+She ran off, while Ian, with a sigh--sad to say, of relief--ran to his
+home. He kissed his mother, took down his fishing rod, and was off for
+fish and dreams.
+
+At the bridge, adventure indeed awaited him, had he but known. He
+settled himself in his favorite place and threw his line down into the
+river. Little did he suspect what was to happen.
+
+Singing to himself, he waited. A tug on his line! So soon? Ah, the fish
+were biting well to-day. Mother would be pleased. What a big fish and
+how it pulled! Ian struggled for several minutes, and then up came his
+prize.
+
+But what sort of fish was this? It looked like a fuzzy ball of brown
+fur. As it came up closer, Ian saw that it was a bear--a toy bear. It
+was undoubtedly the property of a certain Elsie Campbell!
+
+"Out, you wee devil, out!" cried Ian, standing up and looking down
+under the bridge for his tormentor.
+
+There she was, and her laugh was most annoying to Ian. He was
+scolding, and at the same time trying to undo the hook from the toy
+bear's fur.
+
+"Come up here, you wee devil!" repeated Ian furiously.
+
+Up came the culprit. Ian had to join in her laughter, though he shook
+his finger at her the while. She sat down beside him happily.
+
+"Ian, do you believe in the devil?" she asked.
+
+"Ay, do I," he answered. "'Tis yerself."
+
+"No." Elsie shook her head seriously. "Do you know, I believe 'tis like
+Santa Claus. 'Tis your own father!"
+
+"Ach, Elsie," laughed Ian, at the child's idea. "You know that Santa
+Claus brings you dolls and toy bears and--"
+
+Ian did not go on to complete the list, for just then he heard a sound
+that made his heart beat faster. Jumping down from the wall, he looked
+up the road. Coming toward him was Sandy!
+
+How Elsie ever disappeared Ian never knew. Disappear she did quickly.
+Afterwards, when Ian thought it over, it seemed that fairies had
+snatched her away.
+
+Whatever happened, she was not there when Sandy and Ian greeted each
+other. It was probably her woman's instinct, which bade her leave
+these two to their men's affairs!
+
+[Illustration: SANDY ARRIVES]
+
+How happy was Ian as his kind old friend seated himself by Ian's side
+with the same boyish leap!
+
+"Well, Ian, lad," said Sandy, "the same bonny Aberfoyle, the same
+bonny laddie! And do you have the same bonny dreams?"
+
+"Ach, Sandy, more than ever before. And have you traveled far since
+last I saw you?"
+
+"Ay, that have I, and many's the tale I'll tell you this day. But first
+I must show you something."
+
+Beckoning Ian to his cart, Sandy pointed to a bundle wrapped up in his
+coat.
+
+Tenderly unwrapping it, the old piper pulled out a young lamb, dirty,
+thin, and bleating.
+
+"'Tis a poor hurt beastie, Ian," he said. "I found it on the road. Its
+mother is dead, and it was left to die, too. I picked it up and now
+cannot care for it, as I'm wandering and have no place to keep it."
+
+"Ach, Sandy, couldn't I keep the wee beastie for you?" asked Ian
+eagerly.
+
+Sandy stroked his chin thoughtfully.
+
+"You could, laddie. But 't would be a while till I return--maybe not
+till next spring. And a lamb with no mother is a care."
+
+"Ach, Sandy," cried the boy, "let me do it for you. I could feed it
+with my wee sister's nursing bottle."
+
+"Ach, ay, laddie! Your mother would like that fine!" laughed Sandy.
+"But," he continued soberly, "if you would keep the wee creature, I
+could give you something for your trouble."
+
+"No, Sandy. I would keep it for you, and gladly."
+
+Sandy was still dubious. He was worried for fear the boy's father would
+object to a charge of this kind. The lamb would need tender nursing and
+careful watching.
+
+Sometimes small boys grow careless, although their intentions are of
+the best. Then the task falls to Father or Mother.
+
+As Sandy was revolving these thoughts in his mind, he suddenly had a
+plan.
+
+"Ian," he said, "do you remember the story I told you of the pipers at
+Dunblane?"
+
+"I've thought of little else, Sandy," replied Ian, as he stroked the
+lamb. The little creature was nestling down comfortably in Sandy's
+arms.
+
+"Well, lad, uncover the plaid on my cart and see what I have there."
+
+Ian turned back the bit of plaid covering the cart. Sandy used it to
+protect his personal belongings.
+
+"Two sets o' pipes, Sandy!" exclaimed Ian.
+
+"Ay! One was given me by a man for a service. It is not so bonny as
+mine but might do for a laddie learning to play!"
+
+"Sandy, do you mean--?" Ian cried.
+
+"Ay, lad. In the spring when I return, if this wee beastie is fine, and
+you have done your duty like a true shepherd, then you shall have the
+pipes!"
+
+"Sandy, Sandy, is it true? May I be a piper and play the pipes like the
+laddies in Dunblane? Ach, Sandy!"
+
+Ian was almost mad with joy. For a moment he forgot what service he was
+to render in return for this great reward. But remembering his charge,
+he carefully lifted the little lamb out of Sandy's arms.
+
+He held it tenderly in his own, and said, "You'll find the wee beastie
+well and fat when you return in the spring, Sandy."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THROUGH SCOTLAND WITH SANDY
+
+
+The warm air of spring was pleasant. The Craig family's supper was
+spread out before the door of their cottage. They ate outdoors so that
+they could enjoy the beauties of the evening.
+
+It would not be dark here until very late. Ian's father could sit
+before his cottage door, reading his paper by daylight until almost
+eleven o'clock.
+
+Now it was only seven. Mrs. Craig was ringing a bell, which echoed
+through the hills.
+
+This was the way she called her husband and son to the evening meal.
+
+Toward her came Ian, and some one was with him. Mrs. Craig strained her
+eyes to see, but she could not make out the stranger's figure.
+
+As they came closer, Ian ran toward his mother, calling, "Mother, I've
+brought Sandy to tea!"
+
+The old piper politely removed his cap and stood before Ian's mother.
+
+"Your son has brought home an old traveler, mistress," he said.
+
+Mrs. Craig smiled and, shaking Sandy's hand, said, "And glad I am, for
+a friend of Ian's is welcome to the house of his mother. Sit down,
+sir."
+
+Ian told his mother the story of the lamb.
+
+[Illustration: BARRIE'S "WINDOW IN THRUMS"]
+
+He explained how, if he performed his task, he would by next spring be
+the owner of bagpipes.
+
+Mrs. Craig smiled at Sandy and said, "You trust the laddie, sir?"
+
+Sandy MacGregor replied, "Ay; for will he not be a piper in the band
+one fine day?"
+
+Alan Craig and Roy soon returned, and Sandy was introduced to them.
+
+After the little repast, Ian beckoned Sandy to him. Nodding his head
+toward the hills, he said, "Come away and tell now about your travels
+through Scotland, Sandy."
+
+The two sat on the hill and watched the smoke curling up from the
+cottage chimney. And while Sandy smoked his pipe he told Ian once more
+of his wondrous adventures.
+
+Traveling through Scotland is like going through many different
+countries. For Scotland's beauties are varied. Here in the hollow is a
+lovely, quaint village. Its thatched roofs and white walled cottages
+make a picture sweet to behold.
+
+As you go along, soon you pass the peaceful, hilly country and come to
+rocky, steep, and rugged land. You might be in the mountains, for it is
+wild and desolate except for the sheep, which are everywhere.
+
+Around a corner, another village looms into space. This one is cold and
+bleak. You pass through it without sight or sound of human beings. Its
+buildings are tall, stony, and gray. In the center is a pump, where the
+people come to draw their water, but no one is about.
+
+With a shiver you pass on. As you gradually leave the village behind,
+you find yourself again in pastoral land. Thatched cottages come into
+view. Bluebells begin to dot the road. How sweet is the smell of hay
+and cows and clover!
+
+Once more a village, and now you wonder whether this can be the same
+country. For in the narrow streets are children, dogs, women, peasants,
+bicyclists, and more children.
+
+Little girls walk along knitting. Everyone is walking in the middle of
+the cobbled street. Sandy has difficulty in going through the crowd
+with his cart.
+
+This is Kurrimuir, better known as Thrums. It is the scene of many of
+J. M. Barrie's delightful stories. Here on the corner is the dear
+little cottage made famous by Barrie's "A Window in Thrums."
+
+[Illustration: BOYS PLAY CRICKET IN SCOTLAND]
+
+Passing a field, Sandy stops to watch some boys playing cricket. This
+game is very popular in Scotland. All the boys play it, just as
+American boys play baseball.
+
+Doune Castle! Sandy climbs over the fence and starts up toward the
+towering mass of rock. He thinks of the many battles fought around this
+ancient stronghold. It was here that King Robert Bruce made some of
+Scotland's history.
+
+Stirling Castle! Another massive stone memorial of the days of
+Scotland's stormy wars.
+
+Sandy passes on until he comes to the city of Perth. Here he stops
+before the old, old house in which lived "The Fair Maid of Perth," made
+famous by Sir Walter Scott.
+
+[Illustration: DOUNE CASTLE]
+
+In St. Andrews is the oldest golf links in the world. From everywhere
+people come to play the royal and ancient game. It is said that no
+course is at all like the old course at St. Andrews.
+
+As you perhaps know, golf originated in Scotland. St. Andrews is the
+place where it started. Some say that it was first begun by the
+shepherds. It is thought that they used to knock small stones with
+their crooks as they strolled behind their sheep.
+
+On went Sandy to Melrose. He passed the Eildon Hills where King Arthur
+and his knights are supposed to be buried. This is the spot where, 'tis
+said, Sir Walter Scott used to stop his horses every day.
+
+He paused here because he loved to look at the glorious view behind.
+His horses knew the spot so well that they would stop here of their own
+accord. On the day of Sir Walter's funeral, when they were taking his
+body to the Abbey, the horses stopped once more.
+
+In Alloway is the house where the great Scotch poet, Robert Burns,
+lived. Every day it is shown to hundreds of visitors, who pay to go in
+and look at the curious old place.
+
+Its quaint furniture and interesting manuscripts and pictures are all
+connected with the beloved poet. In the gardens are statues
+representing many of the characters in Burns' poems. "Poosie Nancy,"
+"Tam O' Shanter," and many others are there.
+
+Another town made famous by a Scottish character is Maxwelltown, or
+Maxwelton, where Annie Laurie lived.
+
+Passing an ancient graveyard, Sandy stops to marvel at some huge slabs
+of iron. These are still kept to show how, in the seventeenth century,
+the dead were held down in their graves.
+
+[Illustration: THE HOME OF "THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH"]
+
+These heavy slabs were put on top of the dead. This was done to keep
+them from being dug up by robbers. The thieves would steal and sell
+them to doctors and medical students.
+
+The signing of the Covenant was to Scotland what the signing of the
+Declaration of Independence was to America. It was the beginning of
+freedom!
+
+James VI of Scotland tried to force the people into his own religious
+beliefs. They refused to be led. On the first day of March, 1768, in
+the Old Greyfriars Churchyard, the Covenant was signed.
+
+The signing was done on a flat gravestone, which is there to this day.
+And so, just as America has a Liberty Bell, Scotland has a Liberty
+Stone.
+
+As Sandy's old handcart rattles through each little Scottish town, he
+is impressed with the many bookshops he sees in his country. The Scotch
+are enthusiastic readers. Their love and desire for education are
+national traits.
+
+Often Sandy passes young boys or young girls sitting by the roadside,
+absorbed in their books. The colleges and schools of Scotland are fine
+indeed.
+
+When Sandy asks a direction, he is sure to receive a courteous reply.
+The children who come to his side are polite and kind and anxious to
+help. They will gladly do what they can for a stranger and do not ask
+any pay in return.
+
+Over many stores and buildings Sandy reads names which start with
+"Mac," such as MacNiel and MacKenzie. He smiles as he thinks about
+these names. He knows that these people, like himself, are the
+descendants of the old clan leaders.
+
+They gave the name "Mac," which means "son of," to their children. So,
+if a clan leader was named Gregor, the children of his clan would be
+MacGregor. In the olden days, the word "clan," which comes from an old
+Gaelic word meaning "children," was like a great family. Their chief
+was like a father, whom they all obeyed.
+
+To-day, you no doubt know people named MacDonald, MacRae, etc. These
+are the descendants of the "clansmen," as they were called.
+
+Each clan has a tartan of its own. A tartan is what you would probably
+call plaid. It is the heathery mixture of many colors and designs.
+
+Each tartan is different from every other. To-day in Scotland you will
+see the children wearing kilts or ties or tams made of their own family
+tartan.
+
+The town of Paisley is famous for its Paisley shawls. These are very
+much admired by all the world and worn by ladies of fashion.
+
+The Shetland shawls, also famous, are dear to old ladies, because they
+are soft and warm. The Shetland ponies are dear to children, for they
+are so little that they are more like large dogs than like horses. Both
+come from the Shetland Islands, which are north of Scotland and are
+ruggedly wild.
+
+Through all of Sandy's travels he never saw the thistle, which is
+supposed to grow so thickly in Scotland. The thistle, as you perhaps
+know, is used on Scottish crests and banners. No doubt it existed, long
+ago, but to-day it is nowhere to be found.
+
+Here is Loch Drunkie, a queer name with a queer history. It was on the
+shores of this lake that men made whisky--which was against the law.
+
+One day the men saw officers of the law coming toward them. They knew
+that they would be arrested if they were found out. To avoid arrest,
+they emptied their whisky into the lake. People say that the waters
+have remained half whisky from that day to this.
+
+Sandy jogs along toward Aberfoyle. It is the day he delivers his
+injured lamb to the mercies of his young friend. During this time, he
+passes another "loch," the well known and much beloved "Loch Lomond."
+
+Sandy stops on the shore. He gazes below on the shining blue waters,
+upon which ply the tiny white steamers. He shoulders his bagpipes and
+plays the melody known in every clime, "On the bonny, bonny banks of
+Loch Lomond." Here the fairies were wont to dwell. A tale is told of
+fairy dyers, who worked for the clans of Loch Lomond in the days of
+yore.
+
+[Illustration: "ON THE BONNY, BONNY BANKS OF LOCH LOMOND"]
+
+A joke was once played upon the wee elfin folk by a boy. The lad asked
+to have the fleece of a black sheep dyed white. Angered by this
+request, the fairies overturned their pots of dye into the lake and
+never more returned.
+
+But the color from their dye turned the lake an unearthly shade of
+blue. This color is different from that of all other lakes, and thus it
+has remained.
+
+Again Sandy pipes:
+
+  "For me and ma true love will never meet again
+  On the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+IAN'S BETTY
+
+
+For many weeks after Sandy's departure from Aberfoyle, Ian tended the
+lamb carefully. He fed it from a baby's bottle. The young creature grew
+strong and fat. It would follow the boy around as though it knew him to
+be its nurse.
+
+It was a loving little animal, and Ian became very fond of it. He would
+take it with him when he sat with his father upon the hill where Roy
+guarded the other sheep.
+
+It did not mingle with the others, for it was an orphan. It knew that
+it did not belong with the flock. Sheep are not like people. Human
+beings, seeing a motherless child, would strive to protect it with
+their own young ones.
+
+[Illustration: IAN FED BETTY FROM A NURSING BOTTLE]
+
+So the task of protector and nurse fell to Ian. He loved to feel the
+wee one's soft fur against his cheek as it lay on the hill with him. He
+liked to feed it from its bottle and hear the soft, gurgling noises it
+made.
+
+It amused him to see its tail waggled so rapidly after each mouthful of
+milk. This is the way it showed Ian how well it liked its dinner. And
+as Ian felt the lamb, warm and soft in his arms, he seemed to feel
+there something else--his beloved bagpipes!
+
+Much to the amusement of his parents, Ian called the lamb Betty, his
+baby sister's name. He felt that it was as helpless and young as she.
+
+Very often they both sucked from their nursing bottles at the same
+time. While they were doing this, they looked at each other with big,
+wondering eyes. Ian often sat and admired the pair and laughingly said
+to his mother, "Your baby and my baby, Mother."
+
+So the days flew by, and the summer wore on. Soon the school bell began
+to ring out again. It told the children that another term was
+beginning.
+
+Ian was loth to leave his happy pastimes in field and on hill. However,
+he, like all Scotch children, was anxious to learn. So one morning, he
+strapped his book bag on his back and started off to school.
+
+That was a lonely day for the lamb Betty. She was lonely because her
+young guardian had hardly ever left her side. The lamb was clearly
+worried and bleated unmercifully until Ian returned from school.
+
+[Illustration: IAN HOME FROM SCHOOL]
+
+When, the next day, the same thing happened, Ian's pet could stand it
+no longer and started out to find him.
+
+Every child in the world knows the song about "Mary's little lamb."
+That day, as Betty marched herself up the steps of Ian's schoolhouse, a
+chorus of childish voices sang out:
+
+  "Ian had a wee, wee lamb;
+  It followed him to school!"
+
+There was much merriment as Ian hurriedly packed Betty off to her home.
+Like the teacher in the song, this teacher had difficulty in restoring
+order.
+
+It was also a flushed and embarrassed Ian who returned to his
+classroom. That evening he lectured Betty upon behavior for lambs!
+
+However, Betty was either disobedient or else too young to understand
+Ian's lecture. The next day she tried to repeat her performance. She
+started off on a gallop to find her young master. I say, "tried," for
+alas, this time poor Betty could not find Ian's school!
+
+For many hours she wandered about. She went farther and farther, not
+only from school but from home. Evening fell, and Betty was bleating
+alone in a dense forest--lost!
+
+At last Ian returned from school. For several moments, he could not
+understand why Betty did not come to meet him. He stood and gazed
+about. Then a terrible thought came to him.
+
+[Illustration: LOST!]
+
+Rushing to his father on the hillside, he asked excitedly for his pet.
+Alan Craig shook his head sadly.
+
+"I've sent Roy again, laddie, but he's returned once alone. I fear the
+beastie is lost."
+
+Lost! Ian's world fell about him. The sound of distant bagpipes seemed
+to resound dully in his ears. The words of Sandy came to him through
+the dim: "In the spring, if this beastie is fine, and you have done
+your duty--"
+
+His duty! And poor Betty! Where could she be? A little lonely creature,
+more baby than animal, tended so carefully, and unused to the thorns
+and sharp rocks of the hills--alone and lost!
+
+"Father!" was all that Ian could gasp. Just then he saw Roy coming
+toward them, his tail between his legs. An expression of failure was in
+his shepherd eyes.
+
+"Roy, lad, can you not find her?" asked Ian.
+
+Ian threw his school books off his back. Kneeling, he put his arms
+around the neck of Roy. Roy answered in his own way. It was as clear to
+Ian as though the dog had cried out to him, "No, laddie, she's lost,
+lost!"
+
+And if a sheep was lost to Roy, it was indeed a lost sheep! For the
+clever dog would smell a sheep for many miles. He would, in fact,
+encounter any danger to bring a straggler back to the fold.
+
+Still, thought Ian, Betty was not really one of the fold. It was
+possible that Roy's experience did not fit him to scent out tame pets.
+
+"I'm going to look, Father," shouted the heartbroken boy.
+
+Calling Roy, he started off on a run. The father shook his head and
+felt a great pity for his little son.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+ALAN CRAIG TELLS A STORY
+
+
+The word "Betty" resounded in the hills many times that evening. The
+lights in the village were already lighted when a tired, heartsick boy,
+followed by a sympathetic sheep dog, returned to the Craig cottage.
+
+There they were awaited by Alan Craig. The lad stumbled blindly into
+the house.
+
+He found his father with a candle in his hand, waiting to lead the
+disappointed boy to his bed.
+
+Ian cried himself to sleep that night. Roy, the dog, sat beside him
+and mourned for the lost member of the little household.
+
+The next day and the next were spent in searching the hills, the
+fields, and the forest. Fortunately for Ian, they were Saturday and
+Sunday, and he did not have to go to school.
+
+He arose before the dawn and did not return until evening. But it was
+always the same. Betty was nowhere to be found. Though Ian and Roy
+hunted in every conceivable place, the lamb had disappeared.
+
+On Monday, Ian was forced to relinquish his hunt and go to school.
+Immediately after school he called to Roy and was off again.
+
+"The lad hardly eats his meals, he's so troubled!" said Mrs. Craig to
+her husband, as she shook her head.
+
+Alan bit his pipe in silence, while his heart bled for Ian.
+
+Alan had been training a new dog for the sheep. He was using this dog
+instead of Roy, who was allowed to stay with Ian and help him in his
+search.
+
+But this meant added work for Alan, who had to be on the watch. He
+could not leave his charges completely in the care of this new helper,
+as he had done with Roy. Many times the new dog frightened the sheep.
+They soon became panicky and ran in all directions.
+
+Then the dog forgot all of Alan's training and ran after them wildly.
+Alan always had to come himself to restore order.
+
+One day he tramped miles to recover a terrified mother and her baby.
+After this long walk, Alan sat on the hillside.
+
+Meanwhile the new dog looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and
+dropped his tail because he was ashamed.
+
+As the shepherd sat smoking, he saw his son coming toward him, followed
+by Roy. Ian threw himself down beside his father. Letting his head sink
+upon the shepherd's knee, he gave up the search.
+
+"'Tis weary I am, Father," he sighed. "The search is over, and my wee
+lamb is gone."
+
+[Illustration: IAN GIVES UP THE SEARCH]
+
+"And your pipes, Ian? Are they to be lost, too?" queried the shepherd.
+
+"Ay," answered his son, "for Sandy said, 'If you tend the wee creature
+well till spring!' Now Sandy will return in the spring, and there'll be
+no creature."
+
+For a few moments Alan Craig smoothed Ian's curly black hair. The boy
+tried hard to hold back his sobs, which were nearly choking him.
+
+Then Alan Craig spoke. "Ian, lad, have you not heard the story of Bruce
+and the spider?"
+
+"Ay, Father," replied Ian. "'Tis in my history book."
+
+"Then mind well while I repeat it to you. For King Robert Bruce was a
+great man, and he never gave up!"
+
+Ian listened intently while his father recounted the well-known tale.
+He told how, many, many years ago, King Robert Bruce had fought with
+the English and lost numerous battles. One night, he was lying
+despondent on a rude couch in his tent on the battlefield.
+
+[Illustration: KING BRUCE AND THE SPIDER]
+
+His heart was heavy with the memory of his lost battles and of the
+suffering throughout his country. Just then his eye fell upon a spider
+in the corner of the tent. The industrious little creature was trying
+to fix its web to the top pole of the tent. It had already made six
+attempts, but each time it had fallen.
+
+King Bruce bethought him of his lost battles. Six! He and the spider
+had failed six times. And now he, King Bruce, was about to give up!
+Would the spider also be downed, or would it, perhaps, persevere once
+more?
+
+King Bruce made a vow to himself. He decided that, should the wee
+creature try again to fix its web and be successful, then he, Robert
+Bruce, would profit by the spider's lesson and fight another battle!
+
+The spider made another attempt. Slowly it raised its shadowy body
+until, quivering in the air, it balanced itself for the final plunge.
+The King raised himself on his elbow and watched. A nation awaited that
+spider's success or failure!
+
+Again it plunged, caught at the pole, and fixed its web! King Robert
+Bruce jumped to his feet. He threw his plaid about him and began his
+preparations for the greatest battle in Scottish history, the Battle of
+Bannockburn.
+
+As everyone knows, he routed the English at this famous battle. Never
+afterward would the great King give up!
+
+[Illustration: ALAN TELLS THE STORY OF KING BRUCE AND THE SPIDER]
+
+"So should we all feel, Ian," said Alan Craig as he finished his tale.
+
+"From the King to the spider!" Though Ian had heard the story often
+before, it now held a new meaning for him. He looked up at his father.
+
+Then he stood erect and called to his dog, "Come, Roy; we'll try
+again!"
+
+He was soon off through the hills once more.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+PIPERS AND TROUBLES
+
+
+At the beginning of that same summer, Jamie Robinson, Aberfoyle's
+piper, became restless. Jamie was not a steady man. He had never been a
+good provider. His poor wife and babies were often hungry and cold in
+the stormy winter months.
+
+Jamie Robinson earned his living by his piping. He marched back and
+forth through the village street, playing his bagpipes. He hoped that
+the noisy, celebrating crowds, which arrived from Glasgow, would like
+his music and throw him pennies.
+
+When the people were generous, his family might have a good dinner. But
+often Jamie Robinson did not bring the money home to his family.
+Unfortunately Jamie, who was a weak man, was often led by some of the
+village men into public houses. Here men gamble and drink.
+
+Sometimes poor Mrs. Robinson waited until very late for her husband to
+come home. When at last he arrived, he came penniless.
+
+But now Jamie was buoyed up by the balmy weather. He felt a longing for
+the open road.
+
+"Come away, wife," he pleaded. "'Tis no living for a man here."
+
+But Mrs. Robinson only shook her head and reminded him of their large
+family and of the hardships of a wandering life. After all, they were
+comfortable here, when Jamie brought home the pennies.
+
+They had a little corner on a bright meadow beside a brook. Besides,
+the people of Aberfoyle were kind. Mrs. Robinson tried to keep her four
+wee children clean and happy. But this task was not always easy. What
+would it be on the open road?
+
+"No, Jamie," she said. "'Tis afraid I am to go traveling with the wee
+bairns." (Children are called bairns in Scotland.)
+
+But Jamie insisted and promised that she would not regret it. He
+promised that he would make money and provide for them better than
+before.
+
+And so, one day the village of Aberfoyle said good-bye to Piper
+Robinson. The little caravan then moved on to what they hoped would be
+a better life.
+
+They made a queer picture as they trudged along. There was Jamie
+pulling the cart, with Mrs. Robinson beside him. Her entire kitchen was
+strung upon her back--teakettle, sauce pan, and soup ladle.
+
+Then came the oldest child, followed by the scrawny dog. Behind him
+dragged a freckled boy of five years. In the handcart, on top of the
+sticks and the tent, sat the two babies. One of them was three and the
+other barely two years old.
+
+For some time Jamie Robinson was happy. In each little village where he
+played, he made enough to feed his family. He tried to please his wife
+and brought home all the money that was thrown him.
+
+But the weeks wore on, and the family moved farther and farther from
+the big cities. Then it seemed that there became less and less money
+for pipers.
+
+One night Jamie came back to his little brood with empty pockets. The
+rain had been falling all day. The family of Jamie Robinson had been
+huddled together in their tent like lost sheep. When Jamie entered the
+tent, the baby was crying. Jamie knew she was hungry.
+
+While Sandy MacGregor traveled, he usually sang or whistled. Sandy was
+always happy. He was getting old, and his stride was not what it had
+been. Still he gloried in his happy-go-lucky life.
+
+Since leaving Aberfoyle, Sandy had thought often of the little boy in
+whose charge he had left the baby lamb. Old Sandy chuckled to himself
+when he thought about his return and Ian's joy upon receiving the
+bagpipes.
+
+"If I could only stay and teach the laddie to play!" mused the old
+piper.
+
+Sandy was a good piper and had once served in the army. Jamie Robinson
+had only picked up a few tunes. Ian had recognized Sandy's clever
+playing at once on the day he had first come to Aberfoyle.
+
+Now, wet from the showers and hungry, Sandy stopped in a town. Taking
+out his pipes, he began to play. It was the same town where Jamie
+Robinson had played that night and the night before. The people were
+poor.
+
+The rain had been falling in steady showers, so that few persons were
+about the streets. Sandy puffed on his pipes, and the sweet melody
+echoed through the village and beyond to the hills. But not a soul
+came to pay the piper.
+
+"Ach, well," sighed Sandy. He wiped the dripping water from his brow
+and put back the pipes. He covered them carefully with his plaid. Then
+pulling his cart, the old man moved on through the wet streets of the
+village. Soon he was on the open road.
+
+His experienced eyes fell upon a camping spot. He decided to rest the
+night there. He neared the little clump of trees by the side of the
+road. Then he saw that he was not the only traveler who had chosen this
+spot. Here was the tent of Jamie Robinson.
+
+As Sandy drew closer, he heard a baby crying. Sandy called out, and
+Jamie put his face out of his tent. A sullen, angry face it was.
+
+"And what is it you want?" he bellowed.
+
+Sandy walked up to the man and smiled.
+
+"Ach, don't be angry," he said. "I'll not be harming you. I'm an old
+piper and would rest the night here beside you, if you have no
+objection."
+
+Jamie looked at the cart and again at Sandy's happy red face.
+
+Then, softening his tone, he said, "Then welcome. And have you piped to
+yon village?"
+
+"Ay," answered Sandy, "but they have not cared for my music!"
+
+He laughed as he said this, and started to pitch his tent.
+
+Jamie came out and helped him. It was not long before he had told Sandy
+all of his troubles. Sandy's brows wrinkled. A sadness came over his
+face as he listened to Jamie's tale of woe.
+
+The family had been stranded here for three days. The rain had kept
+them from moving. Then the wee baby was ill, and the others were hungry
+and cold. Not a penny had been made in the town. Jamie had played
+several times each day. He had even trudged along to the next town with
+no better results.
+
+Sandy was shocked. The thought of hungry children tormented him.
+Telling Jamie that he wished to try his luck in the town once more, he
+hastened thither, his pipes under his arm.
+
+Sandy had never been a rich man. He always had enough to buy his meals,
+and that was all. A piper cannot make a great deal. Sandy's music
+usually brought him ample money for his needs. But he was a generous
+soul and gave away half of what he earned.
+
+To-night he had in his pocket just enough to buy his dinner. Into the
+town he went. It was not long before he returned to the suffering
+family with bread and milk. To Mrs. Robinson, Sandy appeared as a good
+fairy that night.
+
+The next day broke fair. Early Sandy was in the market square of the
+town. He played the finest tunes he knew, strutting up and down.
+
+The villagers liked his music, and the children followed him. They
+would have liked to shower Sandy with gold, for the joy that their
+country's melodies brought them. But their purses were thin. They could
+only smile sadly and shake their heads at the puffing old man.
+
+There was nothing for the Robinsons to do but to move on. It was a
+difficult task for Mrs. Robinson. But with Sandy's help, she managed
+to pilot her little tribe along the muddy road to the next village.
+
+For many days Sandy and the Robinsons traveled together. Sandy piped
+and gave them all he made, which was little enough. Often he himself
+would go hungry to bed.
+
+It grew so bad that poor Sandy began to wonder what would happen to
+them. Not for worlds would he have left them. Never did such a thought
+enter his mind.
+
+He worried more over the sick baby than did Jamie Robinson. Jamie was,
+in fact, to Sandy, another child. Sandy felt as though he had to
+protect the irresponsible piper along with his family.
+
+These were terrible days for Sandy. He sold nearly everything he had to
+provide for the Robinsons and keep them from going hungry.
+
+One day the baby became desperately ill. It needed a doctor. Sandy
+rushed to the nearest village. The doctor was brought and pronounced
+the baby in a serious condition. He said it must be given fresh milk
+and nourishing food. But to provide these things was too difficult for
+the little family.
+
+One thought had been at the back of Sandy's mind all along. But he had
+not allowed himself to consider it seriously until now. This crisis,
+however, forced him to carry out a plan.
+
+The bagpipes he had promised Ian were the only valuable possession in
+his little cart. They would bring enough money to save the baby's life.
+
+Sandy pulled them out. He polished the silver and rubbed the chanter
+carefully to remove the dust. Meanwhile, his thoughts flew to Ian. In
+his heart he was used to calling Ian "the wee Scotch piper," for he
+hoped to see the boy realize his dream some day.
+
+Now the pipes would have to go. He would have to return to the lad
+empty-handed and with his promise broken. Still, it was the only thing
+he could do. So poor Sandy sold the pipes.
+
+Sandy returned from the village, with his pockets bulging. He seemed
+to see Ian in front of him, the wee lamb in his arms. Ian seemed to be
+looking expectantly and questioningly at his old friend.
+
+And Sandy heard himself saying, "No, laddie. Sandy has disappointed you
+and has not brought you the pipes!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+IAN TRIES AGAIN
+
+
+Ian was once more in search of Betty. The story of King Bruce echoed in
+his ears and spurred him on. Roy, too, seemed to be inspired with new
+hope. He sniffed and ran, and ran and sniffed. Every once in a while,
+he would let out short, sharp barks.
+
+"Do not weary yourself, lad," said Ian. "We have long to go this day,
+and we'll not give up."
+
+With these words the boy began to whistle. A happiness seemed to come
+suddenly to him as though he already had Betty safe in his arms.
+
+For many hours the boy and dog climbed and walked. At last they found
+themselves in a wild, rugged portion of the country, where Ian had
+never before been. Rocks were all about him. He descended into giant
+caverns.
+
+He called, "Betty!" and received only an echo for reply. He went
+farther until it was so late that he could not think of returning home.
+He would surely lose his way in the darkness, if he attempted it. So he
+curled himself up between two massive rocks and, with Roy nestling
+close to his side, fell fast asleep.
+
+[Illustration: IAN, BETTY AND ROY]
+
+At dawn, Ian was awakened by Roy. The dog was barking and making wild
+dashes in the direction of a large gulch near by.
+
+He ran madly to the gulch, then dashed back again to Ian. His barks
+came in hysterical gasps.
+
+Ian ran with Roy to the edge of the gulch. Looking down, the boy saw a
+terrible sight. Hanging on to a ragged ledge was a large mother sheep.
+It was one of his own father's, as he could see by the markings on the
+wool. The poor creature was bleating. A few feet above the ledge stood
+her baby lamb.
+
+At each of Roy's barks, the mother sheep gave a little jump, and the
+ledge of rock quivered. Ian thought surely it would break and the sheep
+would be dashed to pieces on the rocks below.
+
+"Down, down!" commanded Ian in the same voice as his father used to the
+dog.
+
+Roy crouched and whined, but stopped his barking. Ian remembered that
+some of the mother sheep distrusted the dog. So it would be impossible
+for Roy to show himself now. What must be done must be done by Ian
+himself.
+
+While the boy climbed down the precipitous rocks, the faithful dog,
+deprived of his rightful work, whined and howled. Had he not been
+trained to obey, he would never have stayed. But to a shepherd dog, a
+master's word is law. Roy watched his young friend as the boy made the
+perilous descent to rescue the terrified animal on the ledge.
+
+The sheep was large, and its wool weighed heavily. But Ian grasped the
+creature firmly. With all his might, he pulled until he had it on the
+rock above. When the baby lamb saw its mother coming, it uttered loud,
+joyous bleatings.
+
+Ian could only think that the sheep had been led astray by his father's
+new dog. He was worried for fear that there were others which had
+strayed beyond. He decided to see, and started off beyond the rock
+hill.
+
+But when Roy began to drive the mother sheep along, she became very
+angry. She ran at him with her head lowered. Roy could not manage her.
+She refused to obey him and Ian.
+
+The boy, who carried a crook like his father's, was forced to resort to
+the only means of bringing her to order. With a quick sweep of the
+crook, he caught the baby sheep. He lifted it in his arms.
+
+"Now, you'll come away," he said to the mother, as he walked on.
+Snorting, the mother sheep was forced to follow.
+
+On and on walked Ian and Roy. And now the hunt was not only for Betty,
+but for more of his father's herd. Ian thought he would find some that
+might have been led astray by the new dog.
+
+At noon he sat down to eat his "piece," which he carried in his
+sporran. When he had finished, he started for a clear stream near by.
+
+As he approached, he thought he saw one of the grayish rocks in the
+stream moving. He rubbed his eyes. Could it be a reflection from the
+water? No. It was moving slowly.
+
+Ian approached faster. What was his amazement at finding the gray rock
+to be his own Betty! It was his Betty, thin and ragged, and stumbling
+along on her front knees, too weak to raise her feet. Poor little
+beast!
+
+She was nearly dead. As Ian raised her up, he realized that he had
+found her just in time. The creature seemed to know the boy, for she
+nestled down in his arms as of yore. In spite of her suffering, she
+seemed perfectly happy, now that her Ian was found.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+SPRING
+
+
+Spring! Each day found an eager, watchful boy, a happy, sweet-faced
+sheep dog, and a large fleecy lamb standing on the Rob Roy Brig. They
+were awaiting in glad anticipation a visitor, who was expected and
+whose music would soon reach the happy ears of a future piper.
+
+Ian Craig had never allowed his Betty to roam after that frightful
+episode. She had been kept in a little corral, which Ian built for her.
+When he came home from school, he took her with him to the brig. He
+fastened her to a massive rock, while he awaited the return of Sandy.
+
+[Illustration: BETTY AWAITS SANDY'S RETURN]
+
+Betty was now almost as fat and big as the other sheep. She was a
+credit to the boy's good care. So proud of her was Ian that he often
+tied a lovely tartan ribbon about her neck. He combed her wool
+tenderly each day before he started off for the brig.
+
+Day after day, the two waited. Meanwhile, Roy looked on with kindly
+eyes, although he did not understand it all. Of course, Betty was
+equally ignorant of why she was made to pose with a floppy bow around
+her neck, tied to an annoying rock. But she was content, for Ian stayed
+beside her.
+
+Sometimes as Ian watched and waited, he thought he heard the bagpipes
+in the distance. And as he heard, his heart beat faster. The moment of
+bliss when he could claim his reward, seemed to be upon him.
+
+Then he often looked at Betty, and a qualm seized him. How could he
+part with the lamb? He had been through trouble and sorrow for the
+little animal. He had lived many happy hours by her side. It was as
+though she had become his own. The thought of parting from her was like
+a stab. Then, too, Betty loved him.
+
+At these times, the poor little boy would knit his brow and ponder upon
+the strangeness of life.
+
+Then he thought of the pipers and the tale of Dunblane, where the
+stalwart lads marched and played. He thought of the glorious piper
+bands marching in the big towns. The thought made him brighten and
+jump from the brig and scan the country for a sign of Sandy.
+
+But the days of budding blossoms and showers in Scotland wore on.
+Finally Betty's ribbon bow began to fade and Ian's patience to wear.
+
+Little Elsie Campbell used at times to walk with the boy to the brig.
+Often he stopped on the walk and talked to her, as he cocked his head
+on one side.
+
+"Do you not hear the din of pipes, Elsie?" he asked.
+
+And the wee lassie shook her head and said, "Ach, no, lad. 'Tis daft
+you are with your pipes!"
+
+But it was said kindly, for Elsie hoped and prayed that Sandy would
+return. You see, Ian had told her the story of Betty and how he waited
+for the promised pipes. It was, in fact, Elsie who had first tied the
+silken tartan ribbon about the lamb's neck.
+
+It was a gray day which promised rain. Ian and Betty neared the brig
+together. Ian had just tied the creature to her accustomed rock and was
+lifting himself to the wall when he heard a sound. Pipes! Unmistakably
+pipes!
+
+Still, he had been mistaken so often before that he dared not look. And
+Elsie was not there to-day. She would have told him. For in her ears
+the sound was not always droning as it had been in Ian's for many
+days.
+
+He had not told his mother for fear of worrying her. But his head was
+often heavy, and he could not sleep with the sound of the bagpipes.
+Poor little Ian! If only Sandy would return!
+
+On this dull, misty day as he swung his feet from the wall of the brig,
+Ian could not stop the sound. Nearer and nearer it came!
+
+Then, "Bonny laddie, Highland laddie," chanted the pipes. Ian looked up
+and saw standing before him his Sandy!
+
+Although he was as red and wrinkled and twinkling as before, there was
+a change. Sandy was very shabby. His coat was stained with the mud and
+rain of many hard days.
+
+He stopped his playing and stood before the boy. A sad, longing look
+came into his eyes.
+
+"Ian, lad," he said slowly, "'tis Sandy come back."
+
+And Ian suddenly realized that it was all true and not one of his
+dreams. He jumped down from the wall and threw his arms about Sandy.
+
+"Ach, Sandy," he cried. Then he stood back and pointed to the lamb.
+Evidently Sandy had not noticed it.
+
+"And do you not see our beastie, Sandy? 'Tis the same you left with me,
+and well and fat she is."
+
+Sandy turned and looked at Betty. But he did not talk as Ian had
+expected him to, nor did he compliment Ian on the lamb's well-being.
+He only stood fingering his pipes and slowly shaking his head.
+
+[Illustration: "SANDY HIMSELF WILL TEACH YOU TO PLAY"]
+
+As Ian stared in wonderment, the piper lifted his bagpipes from his
+shoulder and handed them to the boy.
+
+"Your pipes are here, lad, and Sandy keeps his promise!" he said.
+
+Without thinking Ian put out his arms to receive the instrument. His
+eyes, however, did not leave his friend's face.
+
+"But, Sandy, these are your own pipes you're giving me!" he said, as if
+he could hardly believe it, after looking down at what Sandy had placed
+in his arms.
+
+"Ay, lad," answered Sandy, "and now you can be a fine piper, and Sandy
+himself will teach you to play."
+
+Then Sandy told Ian the sad story of Jamie Robinson. He explained how
+he had sold nearly all his worldly goods to help the little family and
+put them on their feet again. He told of how he had left them
+comfortably settled near a prosperous village. He had made Jamie
+promise to work and save for his little brood.
+
+Sandy also told how he had come all the way to keep his promise to the
+boy. He said, too, that now, as in Aberfoyle there was no piper, he
+expected to stay here and take Jamie Robinson's place if Ian would lend
+him his pipes each day for awhile. And in return, he would teach the
+lad to play!
+
+"For I'm not so young as I was, laddie, and the wandering life is over
+for me," he added.
+
+When Ian heard these plans, he was beside himself with joy. He hugged
+first Sandy, then Roy, and then Betty. At last the piper became his old
+jolly self once more and laughed.
+
+"Ay, lad, we'll share the pipes together, though they belong to you.
+But old Sandy will have to make a living, and he'll teach you all the
+tunes he knows!"
+
+No happier boy than Ian Craig lived in Scotland that night. Standing
+before the door of the cottage, he puffed and blew on his pipes. There
+issued forth the sound of a thousand sheep all bleating at once but all
+in pain! Sandy listened from his tent on the hill opposite and chuckled
+to himself.
+
+Roy was also in pain as he listened. His delicate ears were unused to
+this shrieking and squealing. He joined in the din with loud howls.
+
+The baby within the house was in sympathy, too, and added her wails.
+
+So Sandy's first evening as a resident in Aberfoyle was not a quiet
+one. He was forced to stop his ears.
+
+Mrs. Craig was unable to stand the racket. So she pulled her puffing
+son into the house and packed him off to bed, to the great relief of
+all.
+
+[Illustration: THE SOUND OF HIS PIPES ECHOED BACK THROUGH THE GLEN]
+
+But Ian was a quick and hard-working pupil. It was not long before Roy
+quite approved of the sounds his master made on his pipes. He did not
+then feel it necessary to amend the melody.
+
+Also the baby gurgled with glee. She puffed out her cheeks in imitation
+of Ian and laughed happily. And Betty, the lamb, too, seemed to know
+that all was well. The world was in tune with the wee Scotch piper who
+had, at last, realized his dreams.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  "'Tis the close of the day
+    At the foot of the ben,
+  And the sound of his pipes
+    Echoes back through the glen."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE WEE SCOTCH PIPER
+
+
+It was a cloudless day in the big Scotch city. The people seemed to
+feel that something unusual was about to happen. Everyone wore his
+best, and the city fairly shone with the reds and blues and greens of
+tartan kilts and bonnets.
+
+Soldiers paraded the streets. Children hurried along by their parents'
+sides, anxious to arrive at the big grand stand in time. Numerous
+bystanders flanked the wide street.
+
+All the people were breathless with excitement. Even the usual
+crowding traffic suspended its pushing and shrill tooting. For this
+was a great day in Scotland. Many celebrations occur at intervals in
+this land of excursions and picnics. But to-day was as the children
+would say, "extra special."
+
+The huge grand stand was overcrowded with eager Scotchmen, with their
+wives and bairns. They all strained their eyes for a glimpse of the
+great "kiltie band," which was to march down the street.
+
+Among those who watched, and perhaps the most eager of all, were a
+family of country folk. In bobbing black bonnet sat a calm-faced old
+lady. Beside her was a rugged old man. Both were in their best array.
+Both were longing for the sight they had come miles from their little
+farm to see.
+
+[Illustration: THE WEE SCOTCH PIPER]
+
+The couple were none other than Alan Craig and his wife. The sight that
+their old eyes would soon see, as the happy tears dimmed their view,
+would be their son, their Ian. He was now a tall, manly piper in kilted
+uniform, marching and piping with the flower of Scotland's army.
+
+By their side sat another. His kindly face shone with pride, and in his
+heart was a singing joy.
+
+For Sandy MacGregor had taught this lad to play. It was the same old
+pipes of Sandy MacGregor that he still used. He would soon show those
+pipes to a cheering crowd as his fingers flew over the chanter. While
+he played, his arm would shelter the tartan bellows once sheltered by
+Sandy's own arm as the old piper had wandered over hill and through
+dale.
+
+Sandy MacGregor had lived many years for this moment. As he craned his
+neck for a sight of the coming parade, he spoke to the little girl
+beside him.
+
+"See, Betty, 'tis they coming now."
+
+Betty, Ian's baby sister, was now a girl of the age Ian had been when
+first Sandy had met him.
+
+Together, Betty and Sandy had dreamed and planned the day when
+together they would view their piper laddie on parade.
+
+For Sandy had dwelt in the village of Aberfoyle these many years. While
+he had piped for his living, he had taught another piper, who was now
+to cover his old teacher with glory.
+
+In the large audience there was still another, whose blue eyes danced
+with joy. Her hands were clasped together with excitement as she
+awaited the approach of her boyhood friend. It was little Elsie
+Campbell, now grown to womanhood. Elsie was among those who thrilled to
+see the "wee Scotch piper," as he marched along that day.
+
+Who knows with what feelings of pride the lad looked up as he passed
+that grand stand? Who knows his feelings of love, on seeing those dear
+faces smiling and nodding at him?
+
+And as he marched and played, he seemed to see before him a little
+schoolboy marching and playing. That boy was himself, trudging the
+streets of a wee village, followed by a bleating lamb!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Wee Scotch Piper, by Madeline Brandeis
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40664 ***