Stories from the Ballads, by 
Mary MacGregor 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Stories from the Ballads, by Mary 
MacGregor This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost 
and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it 
away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License 
included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org 
Title: Stories from the Ballads Told to the Children 
Author: Mary MacGregor 
Illustrator: Katharine Cameron 
Release Date: July 30, 2007 [EBook #22175] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES 
FROM THE BALLADS *** 
 
Produced by Robin Monks, Joseph Cooper, Sankar Viswanathan, and 
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net 
 
[Illustration: She was off and away to the lone plain of Carterhaugh]
STORIES FROM 
THE BALLADS 
TOLD TO THE CHILDREN BY 
MARY MACGREGOR 
WITH PICTURES BY 
KATHARINE CAMERON 
 
LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK 
NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO. 
* * * * * 
 
TO DORIS 
* * * * * 
 
ABOUT THIS BOOK 
Listen, children, for you will wish to hear where I found the tales which 
I have told you in this little book. 
It is long, oh! so long ago, that they were sung up hill and down dale by 
wandering singers who soon became known all over the country as 
minstrels, or ofttimes, because they would carry with them a harp, as 
harpers. 
In court, in cottage, by princes and by humble folk, everywhere, by 
every one the minstrels were greeted with delight.
To such sweet music did they sing the songs or ballads which they 
made or perchance had heard, to such sweet music, that those who 
listened could forget nor tale nor tune. 
In those far-off days of minstrelsy the country was alive with fairies. 
Over the mountains, through the glens, by babbling streams and across 
silent moors, the patter of tiny feet might be heard, feet which had 
strayed from Elfinland. 
It was of these little folk and of their visits to the homes of mortals that 
the minstrels sang. Sterner songs too were theirs, songs of war and 
bloodshed, when clan fought with clan and lives were lost and brave 
deeds were done. Of all indeed that made life glad or sad, of these the 
minstrels sang. 
From town to village, from court to inn they wandered, singing the old 
songs, adding verses to them here, dropping lines from them there, 
singing betimes a strain unheard before, until at length the day came 
when the songs were written down. 
It was in the old books that thus came to be written that I first found 
these tales, and when you have read them perhaps you will wish to go 
yourself to the same old books, to find many another song of love and 
hate, of joy and sorrow. 
MARY MACGREGOR. 
* * * * * 
 
LIST OF STORIES 
I. The Young Tamlane, 
II. Hynde Etin, 
III. Hynde Horn,
IV. Thomas the Rhymer, 
V. Lizzie Lindsay, 
VI. The Gay Goshawk, 
VII. The Laird o' Logie, 
* * * * * 
 
LIST OF PICTURES 
THE YOUNG TAMLANE.-- 
She was off and away to the lone plain of Carterhaugh.--Frontispiece. 
'In earth or air I dwell, as pleases me the best,' 
HYNDE ETIN.-- 
'For twelve long years have I never been within the Holy Church, and I 
fear to enter now,' 
HYNDE HORN.-- 
'Drink,' she said gently, 'drink,' 
THOMAS THE RHYMER.-- 
Under the Eildon tree Thomas met the lady, 
LIZZIE LINDSAY.-- 
'Will ye come to the Highlands with me, Lizzie Lindsay?' 
THE GAY GOSHAWK.-- 
'I go but to my lattice window to listen to the birds,'
THE LAIRD O' LOGIE.-- 
She stood at the hall door gazing wistfully after the young Laird of 
Logie, 
* * * * * 
 
THE YOUNG TAMLANE 
The young Tamlane had lived among mortals for only nine short years 
ere he was carried away by the Queen of the Fairies, away to live in 
Fairyland. 
His father had been a knight of great renown, his mother a lady of high 
degree, and sorry indeed were they to lose their son. 
And this is how it happened. 
One day, soon after Tamlane's ninth birthday, his uncle came to him 
and said, 'Tamlane, now that ye are nine years old, ye shall, an ye like it, 
ride with me to the hunt.' 
And Tamlane jumped for joy, and clapped his hands for glee. Then he 
mounted his horse and rode away with his uncle to hunt and hawk. 
Over the moors they rode, and the wind it blew cold from the north. 
Over the moors they rode, and the cold north wind blew upon the 
young Tamlane until he grew cold and stiff. 
Then the reins    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
 
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.
	    
	    
