Perhaps for that very reason his fancy delighted therein the more.
And his stories were enjoyed by others as much as by himself, which no doubt added to the charm of them.

When winter came, and all the boating days were done, many a night, round the fire of the Manse parlor, or in the "awful eerie" library at the Castle, the earl used to have a whole circle of young people, and some elder ones too, gathered round his wheel-chair, listening to his wonderful tales of adventure by flood and field.
"Why don't you write them out properly ?" the boys would ask sometimes, forgetting--what Helen would never have forgotten.

But he only looked down on his poor helpless fingers and smiled.
However, he had, with great difficulty and pains, managed to learn to write--that is, to sign his name, or indite any short letter to Mr.
Menteith or others, which, as he grew older, sometimes became necessary.
But writing was always a great trouble to him; and, fortunately, people were not expected to write much in those days.

Had he been born a little later in his century, the Earl of Cairnforth might have brightened his sad life by putting his imagination forth in print, and becoming a great literary character; as it was, he merely told his tales for his own delight and that of those about him, which possibly was a better thing than fame.
Then he made jokes, too.

Sometimes, in his quiet, dry way, he said such droll things that the Cardross boys fell into shouts of laughter.