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Donal Grant

Chapter 8 THE GATE.

Word Count: 1128    |    Released on: 28/11/2017

r breakfast, Donal

a pey at ance, I canna tell hoo muckle to ca' my

a preejudice, for siller 's the Lord's tu, but I canna win ower 't: I canna bring mysel' to tak siller for ony wark d

Donal. "There's the ludgin' an' the boord, thou

that to the gudewife, an' I coonsel ye to du the same. S

ld, and presently w

down among them, and fell into a reverie. The ancient time arose before him, when, without a tree to cover the approach of an enemy, the castle rose defiant and bare in its strength, like an athlete stripped for the fight, and the little town huddled close under its protection. What wars had there blustered, what rumours blown, what fears whispered, what sorrows moaned! But were there not now just as many evils as then? Let the world improve as it may, the deeper ill o

e raised his head and looked, but could see no one. At last, up through the tree-boles on the slope of the hill, he caught the shine of something white: it was the hand that

rom behind the tree, a young man, rather tall and slende

rounds are not open to the public!" he

al. "I found the gate open, and th

h, now with some condescension; "only my fat

d by a cry from f

e you are

, Davie!" returned

them precipitately, jumping st

e!" cried the other: "you m

r than that!-But

e least. C

he youth had not

couldn't help me. I can't make sense of th

ne arm, with a finger of th

l, in whom he had recognized the peasant-scholar: "this little broth

only fictions within his reach! Could you

he answered, casting

e passage?" said Donal to t

f the page Donal read, "The Countess of Pembroke's Arc

grand book

y," remarked th

p, and laid his finge

"that is the place: do

swered Donal; "I

ead at the to

ce, sir!" said the

of what goes before it

see!" he answered

h ruddy cheeks and a healthy

tence meant and the cause of his diff

ow I shall get on!" he c

erstand boys!" s

sort of ambition to u

tand ig

e plainest things take: I never seem to under

lanced keen

ad a tutor like

asked

better.-Where

ng with Andrew Comin, the c

ing!" said

r!" returned Dona

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Donal Grant
Donal Grant
“It was a lovely morning in the first of summer. Donal Grant was descending a path on a hillside to the valley below - a sheep-track of which he knew every winding as well as any boy his half-mile to and from school. But he had never before gone down the hill with the feeling that he was not about to go up again. He was on his way to pastures very new, and in the distance only negatively inviting.”