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Updated: July 10, 2025
I've seen me in the camp at night, dog-wearied after stoury marching on their cursed foreign roads, keeping my eyes open and the sleep at an arm's-length, that I might think of Shira Glen.
Every land, every glen or town, I make no doubt, has its own peculiar air or atmosphere that one familiar with the same may never puzzle about in his mind, but finds come over him with a waft at odd moments like the scent of bog-myrtle and tansy in an old clothes-press. Our own air in Glen Shira had ever been very genial and encouraging to me.
The drawer stuck, and it was some seconds before I could get it open, and when I turned round again, to my great dismay, Shin Shira had almost disappeared. The little yellow shoes were still there and part of a stocking, but even as I watched them they too disappeared, the long pointed toes of the shoes waggling a kind of farewell or so I thought and my strange little visitor had vanished.
Shin Shira was beginning to look very thin and vapoury about the head, and, while I was watching him, to my horror, he began to vanish piecemeal till he had entirely disappeared from sight, after giving me a strange, apologetic look.
Spencer to him, going up to his side with a little deference for the General, and a little familiarity for the son of a plain Portioner of Glen Shira who was to be seen any day coming down the glen in his cart, with a mangy sporran flapping rather emptily in front of his kilt. Charlie Turner stopped his tune and turned upon the innkeeper. "I scarcely need to study the map of Europe, Mr.
He felt it in his flesh, in some flutter of the breast It was better to be out here in the sun among the chattering people, to have nothing between him and Glen Shira but a straight sweep of wind-blown highway. From the steps of the church he could see the Boshang Gate and the hazy ravines and jostling elbows of the hills in Shira Glen.
"See! see what you've done!" An enormous form was rising from the floor, and presently stood before us making a deep salaam. "W-who are you?" I stammered. "The Slave of the Lamp, Master," said he. "Good gracious!" I exclaimed, "you don't mean to say that this is " "Aladdin's lamp," burst in Shin Shira. "I thought somehow that it looked familiar.
The uneasiness was great among the Stewarts of Appin, whose territory was close pressed by the sea on one side, and by the race of Diarmid on the other. The Macnaghtens were still more alarmed. Once they had been the masters of those beautiful valleys through which the Ara and the Shira flow into Loch Fyne. But the Campbells had prevailed.
The merchant Mustapha was arrested, I was released and commissioned to let Shin Shira know that if he applied in person for his jewel it would be returned to him, and an apology offered for his unwarranted arrest. And so I was set free a stranger and alone in Baghdad.
He doesn't know what he's talking about," said Shin Shira contemptuously; "I'll tell you the real story of those rocks as it occurred, let's see about eight or nine hundred years ago. I remember it quite well, for it was one of those occasions when I was most distressed at having to disappear at what was for me the very worst possible moment."
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