CRAIGIELINN.

Bruce Herald, Volume XXX, Issue 3103, 29 September 1899, Page 2

CRAIGIELINN.

[Vincent Pyke.] " Aye be Leal." PAIRT FIRST. Folk hae aftea wondered what for bur place is oa'd Graigielinn when itr 1b maistly fine opea l»nd wi' no a oraJg or a linn on't. Weel we jußt gave it the name onto' riohtdoun love and affection for the auld noose at name, where I was born and dwelt till the event happened that I hae set forth to relate. A bonnie bit spot was auld Oraigielinn, an' ,'it was no misoa'd ; for aboot a mile, or aiblins a bittook mair, aboon the house, there was a grand fall o' water oomin* dorm through the rooks. The barn that wimpled in the atrath came a long way frae the monntains. danderin' and sipgin 1 amang the braoken an' the heather ; some said it came frae the tapmoßt oroon o' the Carricks. I oanna aay how that may be ; bat it was sio a weary way that it seemed glad to fall intil a etna* looh in the upper glen, and to rest a while in its peacefu' bosom. Then it; oreepit quietly out again, and keepit on its appointed course, atween tall owre-hangin' oraigs where the son never got sioht o' it, till, wi' a great leap, it sprang oot o' the darkness, and owre the grey rooks intil the strath wi' a great burst o' song, as if it rejoiced in its deliverance frae bondage. Aboofc half-way doua it dunted on a big atane which pairted the waters, and made twa fine showers o' Bpray that mounted up again, glintin' like rainbows in the sunlicht. On account o' this particularity it wa,B oa'd the Twasome Linn; and sketoher bodies af ten travelled up the glen to mak' pictures o 1 the scene. Ance out in the strath, the Linnburn went Baftly on its way — lfctwaters clear as the lift, and sweet a^ aiornin' dew, and jußt aboon the house it wub joined by anither stream that we cad the Bkkburn, on account o' 6ha bonnie sweet-scented birks that sat upon its banks Aften in the dead o' nloht hae I lain in bed, iistenin' till the mußic o' thae twa burns as they brattled owre fche peeblea, croonin' and swellin' wi' delightsome murmurs, an' aye sendin' up praises till the Creator. No but I'm fain to confess that it was to ither things, sic as sangs an' frolicsome reela, that I rnaisfcly evoa'd it till in thae days. An' wbatforno? I was bnt a slip o' a laßsie, an' youth is the proper season 'lot eojoymsnt. Age is aye the time for reflection, an' the remembrance o' a weel-spent, cancv youth is the fineßt cordial in a' the world to ease the carkin' cares o' life, when the e'et grow dim, and the ears grow dull, and w: feel that the end o' our earthly pilgrimage h near at hand. Farther doon, the burn waa joined by ither streams that carae boundin' and brattlin' frae the hillsides wi' gladsome sounds ; and the haii went dancia' through the atratb, lauchin' and daffiu' like a wheer weana afc the okailin' o' a achule, till thej; fell in with the Doon, aboon the Loch, jnai where the hills an' glens o' Carrick melt awa' tnttl the fertile leas and bonnie naught o' Kyle. Yo'll hae heard the auld sayin'— II Kyle for a man, an' Canrick for a coo'" Weei, I got my am gudeman frae Carried an' I'm bauld to say, there's no a better or a Drawer in Kylo or Cunningham. Craigielinn wasna muckle to speak o' as a house. Mr M'Gelpin, the minister wha visited wi' us at orra times, an' waa unco fu' o' learnin', used to say it was jaat "s. parallelogram in stane." But it was a oosy beild for a' that, an 1 my faither — Jamei Cranston — held house and landu in his am richt as his forbears had done for monv generations. He waa a grand auld man, aye tender and thocbtfu' in his am dealing wi' his bairns, an' wi' folk aboot him, an' much respectit by the neighbors ; but he waß awfn' stiff in hie religious opinions, an' very strict in matters o' discipline. The Bible was his guide an 1 councillor in a a' things ; and ony thing that couldna be justified by reference to the JBook, he reckoned o' sma 1 account. I mind bein' macfi impressed by his manner on ane occasion wu?" some o' the harvest folk conceited they were no b&Q weel paid as they should be, an 1 pit forward Willie Caird, the the tinkler, as spokesman. Willie, he says, "¥a ken, laird, it's writ — ' The laborer is worthy o' his hire,' " — " Eb, m<*n v " quo my faither, " I'se gie ye a better text than thav. in your loof. I&'t no also writ — ' He con tent wi' your wags ?' " — An' he wadna bide mair contention aboot it. He waa a dour man wi' wrang-headed folk, an' such as tbrawed him, or wadna tak' a richt view o' matters, like himsel'. I canna mind onythiog about my mither", for she passed out o' the warld when I was a weo wean. An' I had nae brsther, but only ac sister who was just twa yeara ma!r advanced in age than myael'. Maggie was promised to young Robin Grant, the eldest Bon an' heritour o' Gowaabraes, whose lands marched wi' Oraigielinn, an' the weddin' waa fixed to tak' place after the ingatherin' o' the hair'st. On the strength o' her promotion, Maggie used to tak' maisfc amuain' matronly airs upon hersel', juafc by wayo' y gettin' her hand in. I dinna cast up ony blame till her for that. It is weel to be prepared aforehand for a' emergencies ; but her meddlin' ways sometimes brought aboot unexpected consequences, as ye will aae in the course o' my story. I maun tell ye, we were baiih o' the same statute, an' much aiike in fe»tar«s, only Maggie had broon hair an' mine was liohfc, Gowden the ladies oa'd it in thae days, bafc there's mair 6iller fcb.au <£° w< * iniilt noo, as is only richt, Folk said I f&? orei * ma ' ( "' 0> tne mither's side, an' Meg o' the faitu V * l caOiift tel1 ' bat it was aetfcled that aha was to hae* OBS§ aa' land as her portion, an' mine was to be in siller. My faither thocht to mak' a fine ; lairdship by oombinin' Oraigielinn wi' \ Gowftn-braea, Whiles I hae bad a notfoa l

that he was disappointed in no haein' a'son to cany on the family ; bat he never sought anitherwife. He wadna pit a step-mither owre ns when we wereiweana for oar am sake, an' when we grew up he waa raither anld, an* owre lenaible to fash himael' wi' the cares an' responsibilities ©' matrimony. He said an anld body wadna suit him, an' as for a young lassie, he wadna suit her, aae he wad just bide hia lane like the gudeman o' vz. . :■■■ " ■■:;■/. ■ „.; We were a sma' family. Sac far as I kent, bor only near kinewoman waß Madam Oranaton— my faither's aunt—an ancient lady, wha faithfully .'preserved the mannetß and virtues o' her youth. She was a grand anld dame o' majeatlo proportions, wi' strongly-marked features, au' a firm bat pleaain' expreasion o' countenance. I mind her weel, olad in a handsome gown o' pearlgrey silk, aae stiff that it could stand its lane, an' rußtied like autumn leaves when she moved. She aye wore a fine white muslin kerchief owre her shoulders, drawn in tight till the waist, an' lang aleevea o' rich auld yellow lace reaohin' doon till her fingere, a covered wi' rings. Her cap was trimmed wi' mair o' the aame bonnie lace, an' fastened wi' braid bands under the chin. She had auld-faahioned high-heeled shoon wi 1 Biller buokleß; and though very np right and aotive for her age, she aye walked wi' a gowden-headed oano, aa it seema was the oußtom o' ladies in her youthfu' days. An' she carried a torty-ahell annff-box a 1 mounted wi' gowd ; but it waß mair for ornament than übo, though whiles she wad mak a great pretence o' takin' a eneeahin' wi' an ivory spune that waa laid intil't. In fact Madam Oranaton waa just the aame as a picture that had gotten awa frae the frame an' ateppit out for a bit walk. Bat she waß a kind hearted couthy auld leddy, an' we lassies were aye weel pleased to gie her a welcome at Craigielinn. An' noo that I hae made ye sequent wi' the auld house-place, and a' things needfu' for the richt understau'in' o' my Btory, I shall gae on till the relation o' whatbefel mo in the maist eventful pairt o' my life.