the magnificence of the school itself; the prowess of
Peter Lauchie and Roarin' Sandy's Archie, how they declared they
weren't afraid of even the master; the number of boys old McAllister
could thrash in a day, and the amount he knew; such fearsome long words
as he could spell, and the places he could point out on the map! He
chattered on to his delighted audience; but for some strange reason he
made no further allusion to his fight.

When there was no more to tell, Rory crossed the room and with
elaborate care took down a box from a shelf above the bed. From it he
tenderly took out a violin, and after much strumming and tuning up he
seated himself upon a chair in the middle of the room and struck up the
lively air of "The MacDonalds' Reel." Scotty leaped to the floor;
Rory's fiddle could do anything with him, make him dance with mad joy
until he was exhausted, stir him up to a wild longing to go away and do
deeds of impossible prowess, or even make him creep into the shadows
behind Granny's chair and weep heart-broken tears into her ample skirts.

To-night the tune was gay, and Callum came out into the ring of light,
and sitting astride a chair with his arms crossed over its back, put
his nephew through the intricacies of the Highland Fling until he was
gasping for breath. Granny saw, and stopped the dance by a nod and
smile to Rory; the music instantly changed to a slow, wailing melody,
and the boy dropped into a chair and sat gazing into the fire, dreaming
dreams of mystery and wonder.

Then they all sang old-fashioned Scottish songs; songs that were old
before Burns came to give Scotland a new voice. And Old Farquhar
struck in, during a short pause, with one of Ossian's songs of war-like
doings and glorious deaths. He sang in a cracked, weird voice to a
wild Gaelic air that had neither melody nor rhythm, but somehow
contained the poetic fire of the impromptu songs of the old bards.
Rory followed, putting in a note here and there; but as the song
wavered on and showed no signs of coming to an end, he struck up, "The
Hundred Pipers an' a' an' a'," and drowned out the old man's wail.
Then Burns was not forgotten, and they were all in the midst of "Ye
Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon," a song that always made Scotty's heart
ache as though it would burst, he knew not why, when the door opened
suddenly, letting in a rush of frosty air, and a visitor.

No one ever knocked at a neighbour's door in the Canadian backw