Gibbie seated himself, like a Turk, with his bare legs crossed under him, a few yards off, where, in silence and absolute content, he ate his piece, and gravely regarded him.

His human soul had of late been starved, even more than his body--and that from no fastidiousness; and it was paradise again to be in such company.

Never since his father's death had he looked on a face that drew him as Donal's.

It was fair of complexion by nature, but the sun had burned it brown, and it was covered with freckles.

Its forehead was high, with a mass of foxy hair over it, and under it two keen hazel eyes, in which the green predominated over the brown.