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Leighton, Robert, -1934

"The Pilots of Pomona"

Gordon.
"Surely you dinna expect me to drive, Captain Gordon!" I exclaimed.
"Why, I never held a pair of reins in my life!"
"All right, my lad! get over to larboard there, and I'll see what
we can do. You can be pilot and give your orders, and I'll take the
helm.
"Come along, Sheltie; off we go!"
The weather was very fine, the roads in good condition, and the
pony fresh, so that we looked for a very pleasant drive to the
capital. We drove along the north road by Hamla Voe and past the
green cornfields of Cairston, and then over the hill until the
great loch of Stenness stretched before us, reflecting on its
surface the dappled, woolly clouds.
When we reached the Bridge of Waithe and turned westward, I asked
my companion to slacken pace, for I had seen on the white road in
advance of us two figures that were familiar to me.
"Who are they, Halcro?" Mr. Gordon inquired; "two of your school
friends, eh?"
"Yes," I replied. "The lassie walking on the grass with the bare
feet and carrying a green bag is Hilda Paterson--Jack Paterson's
daughter."
"Ay! Jack Paterson's girl, eh? Well, and the other one with the
pretty hair, walking along here like a stately young princess, who
is she?"
We were already close to the two girls, however, and I hesitated to
reply.


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