I should think not. He had had quite enough of the fairies. They, however, seem to have had a soft side to pipers, at least we often read of them helping the musicians with their music. The first story which illustrates this comes from one of the Inner Hebrides, and is given in J. F. Campbell’s _Tales of the West Highlands_, the actual words of the narrator being used. It was told in a houseful of people, all of whom seemed to believe it:— “There was a piper in this island and he had three sons. The two eldest learned the pipes, and they were coming on famously, but the youngest could not learn at all. At last, one day, he was going about in the evening very sorrowfully, when he saw _bruth_, a fairy hillock, laid open. (There was one close to the house, which was exactly like the rest of its class. It was afterwards levelled and human bones were found in it.) He went up to the door and stuck his knife into it, because he had heard from old people that if he did that the _slaugh_ could not shut the door. Well, the fairies were very angry, and asked him what he wanted, but he was not a bit afraid. He told them he could not play the pipes a bit, and asked them to help him. They gave him _feadan dubh_, a black chanter, but he said: ‘That’s no use to me for I don’t know how to play it.’ “Then they came about him and showed him how to move his fingers; that he was to lift that one and lay down that, and when he had been with them a while he thanked them and took out his knife and went away, and the _bruth_ closed after him. “Now, that man became one of the most famous pipers, and his people were alive until very lately. I am sure you all know that.” _Chorus_—“Oh yes, yes indeed. It is certain that there were such people whether they are now or not.”