cessive paper
his imagination would fly, and a sense of air, and height, and freedom
settled from his play into his very soul, a germ to sprout hereafter,
and enrich the forms of his aspirations. And all his after-memories of
kite-flying were mingled with pictures of eastern magnificence, for
from the airy height of the dragon his eyes always came down upon the
enchanted pages of John Hewson's book.

Sometimes, again, he would throw down his book, and sitting up with his
back against the stake, lift his bonny leddy from his side, and play as
he had never played in Rothieden, playing to the dragon aloft, to keep
him strong in his soaring, and fierce in his battling with the winds of
heaven. Then he fancied that the monster swooped and swept in arcs, and
swayed curving to and fro, in rhythmic response to the music floating up
through the wind.

What a full globated symbolism lay then around the heart of the boy in
his book, his violin, his kite!

CHAPTER XXII. DR. ANDERSON.

One afternoon, as they were sitting at their tea, a footstep in the
garden approached the house, and then a figure passed the window. Mr.
Lammie started to his feet.

'Bless my sowl, Aggy! that's Anderson!' he cried, and hurried to the
door.

His daughter followed. The boys kept their seats. A loud and hearty
salutation reached their ears; but the voice of the farmer was all
they heard. Presently he returned, bringing with him the tallest and
slenderest man Robert had ever seen. He was considerably over six feet,
with a small head, and delicate, if not fine features, a gentle look
in his blue eyes, and a slow clear voice, which sounded as if it were
thinking about every word it uttered. The hot sun of India seemed to
have burned out everything self-assertive, leaving him quietly and
rather sadly contemplative.

'Come in, come in,' repeated Mr. Lammie, overflowing with glad welcome.
'What'll ye hae? There's a frien' o' yer ain,' he continued, pointing to
Robert, 'an' a fine lad.' Then lowering his voice, he added: 'A son o'
poor Anerew's, ye ken, doctor.'

The boys rose, and Dr. Anderson, stretching his long arms across the
table, shook hands kindly with Robert and Shargar. Then he sat down and
began to help himself to the cakes (oat-cake), at which Robert wondered,
seeing there was 'white breid' on the table. Miss Lammie presently came
in with the teapot and some additional dainties, and the boys took the
opportunity of beginning at t