The Piper smiled, then, and, unwinding the plaid from his shoulder, spread it upon the floor, and sat down.
"Ye maun ken," he began, "that I hae muckle love for the snuff, an' snuff is unco expenseeve in these parts."
"Well?" said I.
"Ye maun ken, in the second place, that ma brither Alan canna' abide the snuff."
"Your brother Alan!" said I wondering.
"Ma brither Alan," he nodded gravely.
"But what of him, what has he to do with—"
"Man, bide a wee. I'm comin' tae that."
"Go on, then," said I, "I'm listening."
"Weel, I'd hae ye tae ken I'm a braw, bonnie piper, an' ma brither Alan, he's a bonnie piper too—no sic a fair graund piper as me, bein' somewhat uncertain wi' his 'warblers,' ye ken, but a bonnie piper, whateffer. Aweel, mebbe a year syne, I fell in love wi' a lassie, which wad ha' been a' richt if ma brither Alan hadna' fallen in love wi' her too, so that she, puir lassie, didna' ken which tae tak'. 'Donal,' says Alan, 'can ye no love anither lassie; she can no marry the twa o' us, that's sure!' 'Then, Alan,' says I, 'we'll juist play for her.' Which I think ye'll own was a graund idee, only the lassie couldna' juist mak' up her mind which o' us piped the best. So the end of it was we agreed, ma brither Alan an' I, to pipe oor way through England for a year, an' the man wha came back wi' the maist siller should wed the lassie."