“Just like politics, eh, Mr. Patterson?” said the Reverend Harper Freeman.
“Yes, or like preaching,” replied the M.P.P.
“One on you, Dad!” said the irrepressible Fatty.
Meantime Sutherland was warmly complimenting Cameron on his playing.
“You haf been well taught,” he said.
“No one taught me,” said Cameron. “But we had a famous old piper at home in our Glen, Macpherson was his name.”
“Macpherson! Did he effer play at the Braemar gathering?”
“Yes, but Maclennan beat him.”
“Maclennan! I haf heard him.” The tone was quite sufficient to classify the unhappy Maclennan. “And I haf heard Macpherson too. You iss a player. None of the fal-de-rals of your modern players, but grand and mighty.”
“I agree with you entirely,” replied Cameron, his heart warming at the praise of his old friend of the Glen Cuagh Oir. “But,” he added, “Maclennan is a great player too.”