I    am  not    in    the    mood   for   strong

excitements  :
You'll  tell  me  all  about  it.
Morag.
Yes,  I'll  bring
A  true  account  home  of  the  last  great

Feast
Held  in  Glenaradale.
Ina.
Nay,  not  the  last.
They  have  been  there  a  century  at  least,
And  may  hold  on  another,  if  there's

faith
Still  in  the  land,  or  maybe  if  there's

none :
Such  customs  linger  when  the  life  is
gone.
428


Kildrostan


Morag.
Have  you  not  heard  ?     The  country's
ringing  with  it.
Ina,
Ringing  with  what  ?     What  is  there
next  to  hear  ?

Morag.
Only  that  Doris  has  evicted  all
The  people  from  their  houses,  which

even  now
Are  empty,  bare,  and  roofless.     She

would  crowd  them
Upon  the  strip  of  shore  already  thronged
With  fishers,  and  they  mean  to  go  away.
They  have   been  used  to   tend,    and

handle  sheep
And    cattle,  and   they  have  no  skill

with  boats  ;
And    now  they   are   just  waiting  for

to-morrow.
Housed  on  the  beach,  or  in  the  birken

wood,
With   breaking    hearts,   before    they

leave  the  land.
Ina.
What  say  you  i     Doris  root  them  from

the  soil
Where  they  have   grown  like  native

heath  or  bracken  !
And  they  her  kinsfolk !

Morag.
Ay,  but  near  of  kin
May  be  too  near  in  place  for  upstart

pride.
I've  heard  some  say  we  are  all  sprung

from  apes.
And   maybe   that's    the    reason    they

disgust  us
More  than  a  dog  or  cat.     At  any  rate,
Glenara  is  a  desert  now  for  deer.
Imeu
Cruel  and  heartless  !  and  yet  only  like
her.
