قراءة كتاب The Wee Scotch Piper

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The Wee Scotch Piper

The Wee Scotch Piper

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 9

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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.


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.


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

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