If by your native tongue you mean the Gaelic, I fear I will just have to
keep your next letter as a curiosity; but if the sweet Scottish dialect
which rings so tunefully through the songs of the poet Burns is what you
are thinking of, dinna forget your promise, dear bairn. And be sure you
send the bit of heather, the mere mention of which this summer day sends
my thoughts off to breezy moors and purple hills, where sheep graze and
goats scramble.
* * * * *