“Very well; I’d rather hear that than nothing. That was a good tune, ‘Maggie Lauder.’”
“Oh ay, she wass a ferry coot chune,” sighed Andrew.
“And that jolly jig, ‘Money Rusk.’”
“‘Musk,’” sighed Andrew. “Oh ay, ‘Money Musk’ mak’s ta plood stir in a man maist as much as ‘Tullochgorum.’”
“Or ‘The Gathering of the Clans,’ Andra,” cried Steve.
“Hey, she’s crant!” cried the man excitedly. “She stirs the plood, too.”
“Yes, and it rouses up the men.”
“She feels as if she cauld play it a pit the noo.”
“Could you? Then look here, Andra. We’re going to have a run across the fiord in the moonlight. It’s full moon and as clear as day.”
“She’s retty the noo,” said Watty.