Sandy stops on the shore. He gazes below on the shining blue waters, upon which ply the tiny white steamers. He shoulders his bagpipes and plays the melody known in every clime, "On the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond." Here the fairies were wont to dwell. A tale is told of fairy dyers, who worked for the clans of Loch Lomond in the days of yore.
"ON THE BONNY, BONNY BANKS OF LOCH LOMOND"
A joke was once played upon the wee elfin folk by a boy. The lad asked to have the fleece of a black sheep dyed white. Angered by this request, the fairies overturned their pots of dye into the lake and never more returned.
But the color from their dye turned the lake an unearthly shade of blue. This color is different from that of all other lakes, and thus it has remained.
Again Sandy pipes:
"For me and ma true love will never meet again
On the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond."