Note 2 — LEGEND OF THE CLAN-ALLAN STEWARTS CONTINUED.

“Oh, aye! very true,—a deer’s heart!” said the doting old man. “Very true, indeed, my love. I did dream—oh, aye—I dreamed, I say, Bella, that I was eating the rosten heart of a stag—of a great hart of sixteen,2 killed by my boys on the hill of Dalestie—aye, aye—and with arrows feathered from an eagle’s wing. As I ate, and better ate, I always grew stronger and stronger, till at length I was able to rise from my chair as stoutly as ever I did in my life—ouch, aye! that day is gone! Yet much would I like to eat the rosten heart of a deer; but it would need to be that of a great hart of sixteen.”