We
got quite merry over it.
"We shall be brought before the magistrates for destruction of
property," said my father.
"You'll have to send Andrew to build up the stack again--that's all."
"But I wonder how it is that nobody hears us. How can they have a
peat-stack so far from the house?"
"I can't imagine," I said; "except it be to prevent them from burning
too many peats. It is more like a trick of the poor laird than anybody
else."
Every now and then a few would come down with a rush, and before long
we had made a large hole. We left a good thick floor to sit upon.
Creeping in, we commenced building up the entrance. We had not
proceeded far, however, before we found that our cave was too small,
and that as we should have to remain in it for hours, we must find it
very cramped. Therefore, instead of using any more of the peats
already pulled out, we finished building up the wall with others fresh
drawn from the inside. When at length we had, to the best of our
ability, completed our immuring, we sat down to wait for the
morning--my father as calm as if he had been seated in his
study-chair, and I in a state of condensed delight; for was not this a
grand adventure--with my father to share it, and keep it from going
too far? He sat with his back leaning against the side of the hole,
and I sat between his knees, and leaned against him.
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