Sandy walked up to the man and smiled.
"Ach, don't be angry," he said. "I'll not be harming you. I'm an old piper and would rest the night here beside you, if you have no objection."
Jamie looked at the cart and again at Sandy's happy red face.
Then, softening his tone, he said, "Then welcome. And have you piped to yon village?"
"Ay," answered Sandy, "but they have not cared for my music!"
He laughed as he said this, and started to pitch his tent.
Jamie came out and helped him. It was not long before he had told Sandy all of his troubles. Sandy's brows wrinkled. A sadness came over his face as he listened to Jamie's tale of woe.
The family had been stranded here for three days. The rain had kept them from moving. Then the wee baby was ill, and the others were hungry and cold. Not a penny had been made in the town. Jamie had played several times each day. He had even trudged along to the next town with no better results.
Sandy was shocked. The thought of hungry children tormented him. Telling Jamie that he wished to try his luck in the town once more, he hastened thither, his pipes under his arm.