I.

THE LITTLE GRAY HOUSE ON THE BRAE

If you had peeped in at the window of a little gray house on a
heathery hillside in the Highlands of Scotland one Saturday
morning in May some years ago, you might have seen Jean Campbell
"redding up" her kitchen. It was a sight best seen from a safe
distance, for, though Jean was only twelve years old, she was a
fierce little housekeeper every day in the week, and on Saturday,
when she was getting ready for the Sabbath, it was a bold person
indeed who would venture to put himself in the path of her broom.
To be sure, there was no one in the family to take such a risk
except her twin brother Jock, her father, Robin Campbell, the
Shepherd of Glen Easig, and True Tammas, the dog, for the Twins'
mother had "slippit awa'" when they were only ten years old,
leaving Jean to take a woman's care of her father and brother and
the little gray house on the brae.

On this May morning Jean woke up at five o'clock and peeped out
of the closet bed in which she slept to take a look at the day.
The sun had already risen over the rocky crest of gray old Ben
Vane, the mountain back of the house, and was pouring a stream of
golden sunlight through the eastern windows of the kitchen. The
kettle was singing over the fire in the open fireplace, a pan of
skimmed milk for the calf was warming by the hearth, and her
father was just going out, with the pail on his arm, to milk the
cow. She looked across the room at the bed in the corner by the
fireplace to see if Jock were still asleep. All she could see of