A Boyhood in Scotland 



our travels never ending until we fell asleep. 

 When mother came to take a last look at us, 

 before she went to bed, to see that we were 

 covered, we were oftentimes covered so well 

 that she had difficulty in finding us, for we 

 were hidden in all sorts of positions where 

 sleep happened to overtake us, but in the morn- 

 ing we always found ourselves in good order, 

 lying straight like gude bairns, as she said. 



Some fifty years later, when I visited Scot- 

 land, I got one of my Dunbar schoolmates to 

 introduce me to the owners of our old home, 

 from whom I obtained permission to go up- 

 stairs to examine our bedroom window and 

 judge what sort of adventure getting on its 

 roof must have been, and with all my after 

 experience in mountaineering, I found that 

 what I had done in daring boyhood was now 

 beyond my skill. 



Boys are often at once cruel and merciful, 



thoughtlessly hard-hearted and tender-hearted, 



sympathetic, pitiful, and kind in ever changing 



contrasts. Love of neighbors, human or animal, 



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