The Wee Scotch Piper

by Madeline Brandeis

  CHAPTER VIII

  PIPERS AND TROUBLES

  At the beginning of that same summer, Jamie Robinson, Aberfoyle'spiper, became restless. Jamie was not a steady man. He had never been agood provider. His poor wife and babies were often hungry and cold inthe stormy winter months.

  Jamie Robinson earned his living by his piping. He marched back andforth through the village street, playing his bagpipes. He hoped thatthe noisy, celebrating crowds, which arrived from Glasgow, would likehis music and throw him pennies.

  When the people were generous, his family might have a good dinner. Butoften Jamie Robinson did not bring the money home to his family.Unfortunately Jamie, who was a weak man, was often led by some of thevillage men into public houses. Here men gamble and drink.

  Sometimes poor Mrs. Robinson waited until very late for her husband tocome home. When at last he arrived, he came penniless.

  But now Jamie was buoyed up by the balmy weather. He felt a longing forthe open road.

  "Come away, wife," he pleaded. "'Tis no living for a man here."

  But Mrs. Robinson only shook her head and reminded him of their largefamily and of the hardships of a wandering life. After all, they werecomfortable here, when Jamie brought home the pennies.

  They had a little corner on a bright meadow beside a brook. Besides,the people of Aberfoyle were kind. Mrs. Robinson tried to keep her fourwee children clean and happy. But this task was not always easy. Whatwould it be on the open road?

  "No, Jamie," she said. "'Tis afraid I am to go traveling with the weebairns." (Children are called bairns in Scotland.)

  But Jamie insisted and promised that she would not regret it. Hepromised that he would make money and provide for them better thanbefore.

  And so, one day the village of Aberfoyle said good-bye to PiperRobinson. The little caravan then moved on to what they hoped would bea better life.

  They made a queer picture as they trudged along. There was Jamiepulling the cart, with Mrs. Robinson beside him. Her entire kitchen wasstrung upon her back--teakettle, sauce pan, and soup ladle.

  Then came the oldest child, followed by the scrawny dog. Behind himdragged a freckled boy of five years. In the handcart, on top of thesticks and the tent, sat the two babies. One of them was three and theother barely two years old.

  For some time Jamie Robinson was happy. In each little village where heplayed, he made enough to feed his family. He tried to please his wifeand brought home all the money that was thrown him.

  But the weeks wore on, and the family moved farther and farther fromthe big cities. Then it seemed that there became less and less moneyfor pipers.

  One night Jamie came back to his little brood with empty pockets. Therain had been falling all day. The family of Jamie Robinson had beenhuddled together in their tent like lost sheep. When Jamie entered thetent, the baby was crying. Jamie knew she was hungry.

  While Sandy MacGregor traveled, he usually sang or whistled. Sandy wasalways happy. He was getting old, and his stride was not what it hadbeen. Still he gloried in his happy-go-lucky life.

  Since leaving Aberfoyle, Sandy had thought often of the little boy inwhose charge he had left the baby lamb. Old Sandy chuckled to himselfwhen he thought about his return and Ian's joy upon receiving thebagpipes.

  "If I could only stay and teach the laddie to play!" mused the oldpiper.

  Sandy was a good piper and had once served in the army. Jamie Robinsonhad only picked up a few tunes. Ian had recognized Sandy's cleverplaying at once on the day he had first come to Aberfoyle.

  Now, wet from the showers and hungry, Sandy stopped in a town. Takingout his pipes, he began to play. It was the same town where JamieRobinson had played that night and the night before. The people werepoor.

  The rain had been falling in steady showers, so that few persons wereabout the streets. Sandy puffed on his pipes, and the sweet melodyechoed through the village and beyond to the hills. But not a soulcame to pay the piper.

  "Ach, well," sighed Sandy. He wiped the dripping water from his browand put back the pipes. He covered them carefully with his plaid. Thenpulling his cart, the old man moved on through the wet streets of thevillage. Soon he was on the open road.

  His experienced eyes fell upon a camping spot. He decided to rest thenight there. He neared the little clump of trees by the side of theroad. Then he saw that he was not the only traveler who had chosen thisspot. Here was the tent of Jamie Robinson.

  As Sandy drew closer, he heard a baby crying. Sandy called out, andJamie put his face out of his tent. A sullen, angry face it was.

  "And what is it you want?" he bellowed.

  Sandy walked up to the man and smiled.

  "Ach, don't be angry," he said. "I'll not be harming you. I'm an oldpiper and would rest the night here beside you, if you have noobjection."

  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 toyon 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 Sandyall of his troubles. Sandy's brows wrinkled. A sadness came over hisface as he listened to Jamie's tale of woe.

  The family had been stranded here for three days. The rain had keptthem from moving. Then the wee baby was ill, and the others were hungryand cold. Not a penny had been made in the town. Jamie had playedseveral times each day. He had even trudged along to the next town withno 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, hehastened thither, his pipes under his arm.

  Sandy had never been a rich man. He always had enough to buy his meals,and that was all. A piper cannot make a great deal. Sandy's musicusually brought him ample money for his needs. But he was a generoussoul and gave away half of what he earned.

  To-night he had in his pocket just enough to buy his dinner. Into thetown he went. It was not long before he returned to the sufferingfamily with bread and milk. To Mrs. Robinson, Sandy appeared as a goodfairy that night.

  The next day broke fair. Early Sandy was in the market square of thetown. He played the finest tunes he knew, strutting up and down.

  The villagers liked his music, and the children followed him. Theywould have liked to shower Sandy with gold, for the joy that theircountry's melodies brought them. But their purses were thin. They couldonly smile sadly and shake their heads at the puffing old man.

  There was nothing for the Robinsons to do but to move on. It was adifficult task for Mrs. Robinson. But with Sandy's help, she managedto pilot her little tribe along the muddy road to the next village.

  For many days Sandy and the Robinsons traveled together. Sandy pipedand gave them all he made, which was little enough. Often he himselfwould go hungry to bed.

  It grew so bad that poor Sandy began to wonder what would happen tothem. Not for worlds would he have left them. Never did such a thoughtenter his mind.

  He worried more over the sick baby than did Jamie Robinson. Jamie was,in fact, to Sandy, another child. Sandy felt as though he had toprotect the irresponsible piper along with his family.

  These were terrible days for Sandy. He sold nearly everything he had toprovide for the Robinsons and keep them from going hungry.

  One day the baby became desperately ill. It needed a doctor. Sandyrushed to the nearest village. The doctor was brought and pronouncedthe baby in a serious condition. He said it must be given fresh milkand nourishing food. But to provide these things was too difficult forthe little family.

  One thought had been at the back of Sandy's mind all along. But he hadnot allowed himself to consider it seriously until now. This crisis,however, forced him to carry out a plan.

  The bagpipes he had promised Ian were the only valuable possession inhis little cart. They would bring enough money to
save the baby's life.

  Sandy pulled them out. He polished the silver and rubbed the chantercarefully to remove the dust. Meanwhile, his thoughts flew to Ian. Inhis heart he was used to calling Ian "the wee Scotch piper," for hehoped to see the boy realize his dream some day.

  Now the pipes would have to go. He would have to return to the ladempty-handed and with his promise broken. Still, it was the only thinghe could do. So poor Sandy sold the pipes.

  Sandy returned from the village, with his pockets bulging. He seemedto see Ian in front of him, the wee lamb in his arms. Ian seemed to belooking expectantly and questioningly at his old friend.

  And Sandy heard himself saying, "No, laddie. Sandy has disappointed youand has not brought you the pipes!"