The Adventures of Hamish and Mirren: Magical Scottish Stories for Children (Young Kelpies)
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Hamish and Mirren live in a quiet farmhouse by a beautiful loch in Scotland. Quiet, that is, except for the talking sea urchin, singing sand, hungry fairies, sad bogle, and grumpy witch! This delightful collection of stories is a true Scottish children’s classic. Moira Miller’s characteristic wit and humor shine through, and Mairi Hedderwick’s funny, charming illustrations bring gentle Hamish and his canny wife wonderfully to life for younger readers.
shawl round her shoulders and lifting her petticoats, she followed Grizelda. Over rocks and streams went the old witch, her long pointed feet squelching through the boggy places, with Mirren following, carefully behind. Grizelda stumped on, turning now and then to look back. Mirren, flitting from bush to bush, followed her to the top of the hill, then dropping down on her hands and knees she peered through the long grass. Beneath her, in a cleft in the hillside, was a small dark cave. By the
filled it with soft knitted blankets, and for weeks it had stood ready and waiting by the fireside in the kitchen. As Hamish bent to lift it he looked across at his mother who was staring gloomily into the flames. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Are you not happy?” “Och, I’m fair delighted for the pair of you,” she sighed. “But it’s just my wee grandson I’m not sure about. If you had only made that cradle out of rowan wood when I told you, then the Wee Folk...” “That’s just havers,” Hamish
craturs!” she grumbled. “You be sure and lock up properly tonight, Hamish. I’m away to my bed.” But Hamish was tired and although he remembered to push the door shut, he forgot to slip the heavy iron bolt into the hasp. Late that night, when everyone was asleep, the wind suddenly arose in a last furious gust. The door crashed open sending sparks flying up the chimney. The cat flew, squalling, from the hearthrug, and the enamel milk jug toppled off the table and rolled with a clang across the
home,” said Hamish. “There’s work to be done.” And, unfastening his heavy leather jacket, he marched off down the mountainside to the farm. 11. Hamish and the Birds Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap went the noise at the window in the very early morning. It woke Hamish from a deep sleep. He stretched and opened one eye to peer out at the grey dawn. “Too soon to get up,” he said and yawned and snuggled down again. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap went the noise at the window. “Hamish,” muttered
thanks will always be to you and yours…” As she said the words, the procession in front of her dissolved in the air, leaving only an echo of laughter floating on the wind and Mirren and the others gasping in astonishment. A call from the shore brought them reeling to their senses. They turned to see a small group of figures, dressed in sleek dark clothes, standing on the shingle beach beneath the farmhouse. Their leader held up a hand in greeting. “The Seal Folk!” said Hamish, recognising the