Warmly was the old piper
welcomed, not only by the frisky cheery secretary, but by many old
friends, and by none more warmly than by the Reverend Alexander Munro,
the douce old bachelor Presbyterian minister of Maplehill, a great lover
of the pipes and a special friend of Piper Sutherland. But the welcome
was hardly over when once more the sound of the pipes was heard far up
the side line.
"Surely that will be Gunn," said Mr. Munro.
Sutherland listened for a minute or two.
"No, it iss not Gunn. Iss Ross coming? No, yon iss not Ross. That
will be a stranger," he continued, turning to the secretary, but
the secretary remained silent, enjoying the old man's surprise and
perplexity.
"Man, that iss not so bad piping! Not so bad at all! Who iss it?" he
added with some impatience, turning upon the secretary again.
"Oh, that's Haley's team and I guess that's his hired man, a young
fellow just out from Scotland," replied the secretary indifferently. "I
am no great judge of the pipes myself, but he strikes me as a crackajack
and I shouldn't be surprised if he would make you all sit up."
But the old piper's ear was closed to his words and open only to the
strains of music ever drawing nearer.
"Aye, yon's a piper!" he said at length with emphasis. "Yon's a piper!"
"I only wish I had discovered him in time for a competition," said Fatty
regretfully.
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