SANDY ARRIVES
How happy was Ian as his kind old friend seated himself by Ian's side with the same boyish leap!
"Well, Ian, lad," said Sandy, "the same bonny Aberfoyle, the same bonny laddie! And do you have the same bonny dreams?"
"Ach, Sandy, more than ever before. And have you traveled far since last I saw you?"
"Ay, that have I, and many's the tale I'll tell you this day. But first I must show you something."
Beckoning Ian to his cart, Sandy pointed to a bundle wrapped up in his coat.
Tenderly unwrapping it, the old piper pulled out a young lamb, dirty, thin, and bleating.
"'Tis a poor hurt beastie, Ian," he said. "I found it on the road. Its mother is dead, and it was left to die, too. I picked it up and now cannot care for it, as I'm wandering and have no place to keep it."
"Ach, Sandy, couldn't I keep the wee beastie for you?" asked Ian eagerly.