PAIRT SECOND.

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

PAIRT SECOND.

1 have af ten observed how wisely things are ordered for oor welfare, contrary till our am inclinations at the outset. I had no thocht o' what the day would Bee the foundation o' when my faitber forbade my gaein 1 Amang the stooks when the hair'st was being gathered in. Every autumn afore I had ayo dad a pairt in fche bindin', an' I was for awa oot as ÜBaal when Mistress Maggie interposed in a maaterfu' way that was richtdown vexatious. " Dao ye no think Janet's owre auld to be allowed amang the riga ?" — sac asked at my faither. " Shea no a wean goo ye ken." " Aye," he said ; " I believe ye're in the richt o't, Maggie. The lasßie has oertaioly grown in a wonderfu' degree o' late ; an' as ye say, its no fiittn' for the laird's dochter to mix an' mell wi' the harvest folk." I protested against this decision as stoutly *9 1 ken how, but his will was lika the laws o' the Medes and Persians. "Janes," beaaid, " rax doun the Book, an' apply flphesians, Sixth and First. Ye'li just stop Afc name, and help your sister an' She maidb at the house work. It's far mair seemly for ye than to be warslin' ia the corn-rigs." Then, seem' I was like to greet, he Btrokiß my hair kindly, and said in a mair gentle tone o' voice—" I ken weel my bonnio Janet will be a quid bairn, an' no vex her t'aibher." For a' that, when he was gane I sat me ■loun an' grat as if my heatt wad break, i wanted out aae sairly. The moru was fair as fair, wi' the sun ahinin' briehtly in the olear blue liffi owre head ; an, a saffc breeze, sweet wi' the peifume of heather, an' whins, an' clover-aoukiea, cam' wafflin doun Crae the broe side, an' the lintie and the laverock made it sweeter wi' their blithaoine carols. But the troubles o' the young ire suue tbroagh, an' it wasna lang afore 1 was flittin frae but to ban, wi' a licht step, lilting like the happy birdiea thacasel's, sac tihat Meg was fair vexed at me, an' bade me <io to be aye dingin' senseless sangs in her iug. I just lauched at her. "I didna ken it was forbidden to Bing," quo' I. " It's a dour house yell be tnak'in for Robin when ye're leddy o' Gowanbraes, if a bit aang'll deave ye." I should hae tell'fc ye that my faither selected the hißtory o' Jepthah an' hie dochfcar for the moruin' portion ; at-.' on the ending o't he enlarged in a maist powerfu 1 manner on the virtues o' filial obedience, an' she blessings that waited on dutiful children. I kent fine this discourse was for my special benefit, even if Maggie had no dunted me with her elbow at the maiat impressive passages. Sac £ speered in a pauky way what was the speoial blessing vouchsafed till the Hebrew maiden ? My faither reapondit that her n&me an' fame had been handed down to posterity and keepit in reverence by a' the generations o 1 man, " Aye," quo' I ; " that's a tine thing ; bab I'm thiakin' I'll prefer to hae my name handed doun by my aim posterity." Mistress Maggie made a pretenoe o' being awfu' shocked by this speech V* mine ; but the laird seemed mair amused by it. " Weel, weel, Janet," he answered baok ; "ye're no that far wrang. It's just pure nature. When Maggie's ava, I'll hae to find a mon for yersel'- Eh ! bat it will be nnco grievous to pairfc wi' baith. A toom house, an' a mirk ingle-neuk will' 6be when I sit doun my lane. Bat rioht ia riohfc, an ? I'll no allow my am pleasure to stand in the way o' my bairn's manifest destiny." »'Dinna fash yersel' aboot it, faither," q«o' I. " I'm no in ony haste to gang awa frae Craigjelinn," But lam rinnin' on gn' on,, an 1 1 hae no yet jjpegified the remarkable eiroumatg.nce tihat ' «+m f $9 p*B§ gn that day. Whiles I fancy I *" .., bairfl fibaS baadp a tight grip o' his bawbee ao lang .. desire foj sweeties, There p»m* tv, * f «HC£* 4

to Craigielinn afore the aua drapped ahint ] ibe Carrioka that u'on. Oar lands being near the upper end o' ■Strathlinn, it was no af ten that strangers o»me that way, only a wheen aketoher folk wanting to Bee the Twasome Linn, as X tell't ye, an' some that had bnainess wi' the laird., Sac when I took the stoupß an' the gir'* to fetoh water frae the barn, I had na expeotation c' meetiu' onybodyoosoV the common, My gown was kilted aboon my waist an' I had pit aff my ahoon an' atookinge for mair comfort, It was late in the day; the sun waß faßt weaterin', an' the wind had died clean awa'. As I d&ndered doon the wa y till the barn, the swish o' the reapers' aoythea an' the oheerf a' voices o' the lads an' laeaea langhin' amang the atooks were the only Bounds that reached me, forbye the ripplin o' the bnrn itsel'. The water looked ■ac cool an' temptin' that I didna' fash mysel' to hasten back, bub just Btood qaietly paddlin' int. $ot bein' conscious o' the presence o'jjnybody, I kilted op my co3ties an' steppi&oot in til the middle o' the stream, oroonin a bit sang a' tae while — *• Oa' the ewes to the knowea, Ca' them whare the heather grows, Ca' them whare the burnie grows, My bonnte dearie !" Yo'll mind I was little tne.it than a wean, though sister Maggie would hae'fc I was a woman. 'Deed I bad arrived at the happy border-land atween the twa— the braweat and bonniest pairt o' existence* I was still lilting, and was stooping dooa to fill the stoups when someone near by spike — " Gude c'en till yo, lassie." I lookib up and 3&<v twa men ataunla at the burn-aide glowetin' afe ma. I was sac scairt that I didna wait to speer at them what they sought, bat drappia' tne stoup* m the burn I sped up till the boose as fast as my feet could tak me. The strangers would be greatly amused nae doubt, to see me fleein' awa' in siccau a fearaotna mauner, wl' bare legs, aa' my hair loose aboot my shouthera. My snood cam »ff in my flight, an' when next I got it I had aae mair uee for'fc. I burst through She yett and drave in at the door, peohia an out o' breath, like ane possessed. Maggie was in the spence ! eeeia' till the ordering o' the suppar, an* i jfore I couli let out a word she turned on me wi' anger— '• What' 3 wraug wi' ye noo, ye daft hizzie ?"' she cried. "Oh! Maggie, Maggie," I sobbed oot, " There's twa ili-faur'd folk doon at the burn, an" 1 — keekin oot o' the window — " they are oomin' up till the place." Maggie looked too, an 1 sure eneuoh the twa men ware walkin' up frae the burn an 1 a,ne o' them had my stoup'a oarryin'. For a moment: she seemed aniaist &a mach pit aboot as mysei, but eh ! she quickly recovered her digaifcy. " Tibbie," aae said to aae o 1 the maids, " There's twa man comln 1 oo ace the laird. C*' them hi an' bid them sit doon awhile." Wi' thai; she carried me wa' 60 mak' me mair preaantable as she said, and pairtly it was sac, for I stood in sair need o' a reddiogiip. But she didna forges to pit on her am oeat gowD, and to gie hersel' a general ■jmartenin'. When I asked at her for a ribbon to bask my hair wi', she gave me a insist potential look. " Eh, Janet !" ehe cried, "a mair ominous and uncaancy thing oouldna possibly has happened till ye than to hae tint your snood at sicht o' a man !" Au' sic a lecture aa aae uvored me wi' aboot my behavior, and the necessity o' beginning to prepara myael' far takia 1 her pUce in tha family, oould 6uroly only hae oome frae the inspiration o' impending matrimony. I am fain to confess fchD.6 wh^n I epake o' cbe visitors as being ilf-faur'd, I was guilty o' a libel. They were no that. The elder o' the twa waa a iiae looking man, apparently aboot forty years auld, or may be v wee mair, wi' keen grey een that Eeemed to observe everything. He wore a hand- | some .beard, covering a' the lower p*irt o' his faoe, an' flowin' doon to his breast, which, wi' his weel-browned complexion-, gave him quite a patriarchal appaarance, Ib vi as easy to ken that he waana frae our pairt o' the country, both by his manner, which was mair free on' open than was aaatomary wi' otr folk, aa' also by hia toun--nade olaes, though I couidna but observe chat these were raifcher auld and worn. But vvhat maist invited my attention was a peculiar burr in bia speech. I was sure I aadua Been him before, and still there was a | strange familiar sound in hia voice that I could in no way account for. He gava hi 3 name aa Mr Kenwick, an' Baid he had come a laug way, but didna mention what for. II Maybe yell be wantin' the laird," quo' Maggie in her maist consequential style o' speech. " He's awa' wi' the hair'st folk ja6t noo, bub he's aye hame aboot the gloaming." " Juat sac," he answered, " I cam' to see Oraigielinn. I suppciß9 yell be his dochter. My young friend hero tails me there's no a son." The "young friend " waa Colin Davidson, a callant with whom wu were slightly acquent, he being the son o' a sma' farmer frae the Shawa at the far end o' the Strath. I hae since learnt to appreciate his mony exoellen. qualities ; but at that time I kent little aboot him, only that he had the n±me o' bein' one o' the best hands at the plough in the hail country-side. A' tho same ho was a braw laddie ; I couidna but see that, as he sat there sac donoe-like and quiet. An' I oonfess my een rested wi' pleaeure on hia oomaly face, set in a frame o' curly brown looks, and on his buirdly wsel-pro-portioned form. But no thocht had £ v' ony personal feelin 1 . Iw aa fain o' a' thinga bonnie, frae the kye in the byre to tne paitfick on the brae, and the laverock in the lift ; an' what for phouid I no entertain the aame ragard for ony ituee thing, even though it happened to tak' tha shape o' a strappin' ohiel ? Colin an' I Jeff; the conversation maist entirely till our eldera, as was becoming o' young folk. But indeed, I never had much to say in fche presence o' strangars. My

eyes and eara were aye owre busy to gle fair play to my tongue. Maggie plied Mr Renwiok wi' mony inquiries, bnt he waena very communicative. — " Aibiins yell be f rae Ayr," quo ahe, having the same thooht as mysel' . aboot his bein' a far-awa visitor. "Aye, aye; an' a long way ayont. I'll wait," aaid he, "for my— l mean I'll bide a wee till Oraigielinn comes hams." He said thia in a way that plainly expressed his desire no' to be questioned farther. Meg bridled ap, and patting on her maisfc matronly air, she said — " Ye'il excuse, me, Sirs, for leavin' ye. I has the hooae-wark to mia'; bat Bit ye doon till I send ye in refreshments. Jmefc'll keep ye company while I'm awa." Sac aff ahe marched, Jeavin' pair me to do the honors. Tibbie earn wi 1 what Maggie ; grandly ea'd " refreshment," meaning cakes I and sconeß and cheese and butter and honey, an' eic like— no forgeStin' the whißky. An' there sat I, no able So Sad & word, or to Bay it if I'd gotten'fc. I was just cogitatin' how to slip awa, when youug Davidson, thinkin' maybe to hearten me, says — "I hope we didna gis ye a fricht, Miss , Janet." He couldna has ' hit on a meir confusin' theme. A' at ance he spake a picture cam' intil my thochta o' the silly appearance I maun hae presented — rinnin' awa, kilted and bare-legged. I tried hard to answer,! but something cam' intil my throat, au choked my power o' speech. I felt I was takiu' an awfu' red face, an' the tsars were forcin' their way iuiil my sen, in spite o' a' I could do bo restrain them. I thiak Mr Renwick understood my trouble, for be turned till Davidson, an' bads him seek my faither. "Tell the laird," he said, "I'm watting on him." An* as he walked to the door wi' Colin, I heard him sayin' very softly — " Could ye no think o' onything pleascnter than yon to say till the lassie ?;' Thtn he cam' back an' sat doon, an : takin' a dram in his hand, he began crackin' wi' me in sic' a gentie, kindly fashion that my tears ran back till their fount-urns, au' I found my voice, aa' entered freely intil conversation. I was quite at hame wi' him at anoe, and afore anybody cam' to interrupt us, he had gotten oot o' me a' aboot my faither, an* the mailin, an' the neighbors, so 9 the linn, an' tha birken-ahaw, an' ] dinua ken wbat a\ When my failher an Colin cam' in I was in the full swing o pleasant converse. I canna richtly say if it was the presence o' the iaird or that o J young Davidson that daunted me ; but irae the time they entered my tongue atopplo waggin', and I wadni say anithei word mair than just •' Aye," or " No.' Noo I coma to tbiok o't, I incline to the opinion thai; Culia was the cauae o' my silence. Ilka time I caughc the glance o his blue ecu, that weary picture o' me fleein' frae the burn would come up afore me. When I had been uUao wi 1 Mr Ren wick I never enca took thocht o' it. Y< ken he was by comparison an auld man. which makes a' the differ — till a young lassie. (To be Continued.)