Over a kilt of tartan he wore the red coat and plaid, and on his head, crowning his white locks, sat a genuine Scotch “bonnet,” with an eagle feather black as night. In his hands he carried the bagpipes, and while the children stared, open-mouthed, Sandy commenced to play. “Scots Wha Hae” rang out with a wonderful skirl, followed by “Bonnie Prince Charlie,” “Jock o’ Hazeldean,” and a half dozen more, until old Nathan Lawton declared that there was no keeping still with such music, and when at his request the pipes commenced to play a rollicking reel, old Nathan remarked that he used to cut “pigeon wings” and he guessed he could now, took his position in the centre of the floor, and proceeded to cut them in a wonderful manner.
If the children were delighted, so were their elders, for was this not a treat of which they had not dreamed? and, best of all, two old people who had been so cold and forbidding now were warmed and charmed into a friendly feeling with all their neighbors.
When Sandy and Nathan Lawton stopped to rest and regain their breath, the young people crowded around them to thank them and to examine the fine Scotch costume which Sandy wore.
“That’s a pretty dress and jacket,” said little Prue, admiringly, “and you’ve got such a long sash, too.”
The child’s admiration for his costume pleased the old man, and it was of small consequence to him that she called his kilt a dress. Lifting Prue upon his knee, he stroked her short fair curls, telling her how like the little lass she was who used to be his playmate in bonnie Scotland.
“‘Why don’t you send the Little Girl a Letter?’”