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My own inclination would lead me to say as little as possible about myself; but several friends have suggested that, as the reader likes to know something about an author, a short account of my origin and early life would lend additional interest to this book. Such is my excuse for the following egotism.

My great-grandfather fell at the battle of Culloden, fighting for the old line of kings; and my grandfather was a small farmer in Ulva, where my father was born. It is one of that cluster of the Hebrides thus alluded to by Walter Scott:—

My grandfather was intimately acquainted with all the legends which that great writer has since, made use of in the 'Tales of a Grandfather' and other works. As a boy I remember listening to him with delight. Many of his never-ending stock of stories were wonderfully like those I have since heard while sitting by the African fires. My grandmother used to sing Gaelic songs, some of which, as she believed, had been composed by captive islanders languishing hopelessly among the Turks.