ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWAN I) A :
Siitnrifim fHorninn, -febrnarn 3, 1833,
Jwltfftb |)orfnr.
[From the London Athenaeum.
THE PROUDEST LADY.
BV T. WKSTWOOD.
Tin: QUEEN is proud upon her throne,
Ai.d proud arc tier maids so tine ;
But the proudest lady that ever was known,
is a little lady of mine.
And <>h ! she flouts me. she flouts me,
And spurns and scorn- and scouts me,
Though 1 drop on my knee and sue for grace,
And beg and beseech, with the saddest face,
Still ever the same she doubts me.
She is seven, by the calender—
A lily's almost its tall—
Hut <>h ! this little lady's br far
The proudest lady of all.
It's her sport and pleasure to flout me.
To spurn and scorn and scout me :
Hut ah ! I've a notion its naught hut play—
And that, say what she will and l'eigu what she may,
Slit can't well do without me !
When she riiles on her nag away,
l(v park and road and river,
la a little hut. so jaunty and gay.
Oh ! then she's prouder than ever !
And oh! what faces, what faces !
What petulant, pert grimaces!
Why. the very ponv prances and winks,
And tosses his head, and plainly thinks
lie may ape her airs and graces !
But at limes, like a pleasant tune,
\ -iv. etcr mood o'ertakes her :
Oli! ttmn she's sunny as skies of June.
And all her pride forsakes her.
Oh! she dances round me so fairly.'
1 ih ! her laugh rings out so rarely!
Mishe coaxes and nestles and purrs and pric'j
in my puzzled face with her two great eyes,
And says, •' 1 lore you dearly!"
Oh ! tlm Queen is proud on her throne,
And proud are her maids so fine ;
But the proudc-t lady that ever was known
I- this little lady of mine.
Oood lack ! she flouts me. she flouts me,
And spurns and scorns and scouts me :
But all' I've a notion it's nought but play—
And that, say what she will and feign what she may.
She can't well do without me!
Stittftir ©ale.
mims
Not far from the siraggling village of Neshan
Foot in C/ydesdale, stood, many years ago, asmali
collage inhabiied by a widow anil her two daugh
ters. Their poverty arid misfortnr.es secured for
them ascertain degreejof interest among their neigh
bors; but the peculiarities ot the widow prevented
much intercourse between the family and the in
habitants of the district.
hi her youth " daft Jennie," aS she was called in
the village, had been the belle of Nethan Foot;
but by coquetry and love of admiration, she had
excited great jealousy among the girls of the coun
try side; ami her success ir: securing the handsom
est lad in the place as her husband, had not tended
to increase her popularity. Those days, however,
hail long passed away A terrible calamity had be
fallen her; arid one single night had deprived her
of home and husband. A sudden flood, or" speat,"
ol die river had inundated their cot'age; and in
their endeavors to save ihe wreck of their furniture
from destruction, her husband had iost his life, and
her eldest daughter received such injuries as to
leave her a helpless cripple for the rest of her
Jays.
Jennie, never very siong-minded. broke down
completely under these accumulated mi-lortunes ;
and though her bodily health was restored af er the
fever which followed, she rose up from her sick
be.! an idiot, or rather what is called in Scotland
•• dull, that peculiar s'ate of mind between idiocy
anil mania.
The charity of a neighboring proprietor gave her
a eotiage rent tree, the Nethan Foot people gave
what help they could in furnishing it, but ihey were
themselves too poor 10 do more, so that the whole
support of her helpless mother and sifter devoir
ed on Annie Livingstone, the younger daughter, a
handsome girl of fifteen years of age.
It is only by living among Ihe peasantry of Scot
land that we learn fully to appreciate the warm
heart and heroic self-sacrifices which are often con
cealed under their calm exterior and apparent cold
ness o| manner: and no one unacquainted with her !
previous history eould'have guessed that Annie Liv- '
tngstone. the blythest haymaker, the best reaper, :
the hardest worker in the field or house, the most |
smiling, cheerful, and best conducted girl in the j
valley oi Nethan, had some sorrows which fall to 1
Ihe lot 0! a few in the world. Day after day she 1
had to leave her bed ridden sister alone and unten j
eed to spek a scanty means ol subsistence for the \
fimi yjn out of-doors labor: while more than half j
of trer hours of res; arul refreshment weie occupied j
in tunning down to the cottage, to Fee that Marian I
w.yiited nothing, that her mother had remember- ;
ed torn ike ihe porridge, or having done so, had ;
ihven Marian her share instead of devouring it ail I
t erse!f But a jvant of caie of her helpless daugh- !
•er was not the only tiling Annie had to dread hom j
" daft Jennie." The peculiar temper and disposi- j
'ion of her girlhood subsisted still, and no longer
ae P' in check by intellect, displayed themselves in
a thou sand vagaries, which rendered her the laugh
stock of the village, and caused bitter moriifi-
C3!lon to hr daughter. Once or twice Annie Liv"
c<toiie lind ventured to interfere with her moth
mode of proceeding, but instead n| doing good
L >' er endeavors, she not only brought upon her-
I teproaches, curses, even blows, bul by excit
l-'S 'he revengeful cunning ot madness, occasioned
■"* perpetration of malicious tricks, which greatly
a dded to her previous annoyances.
b was wonderful that in such circumstances the
v ung girl contrived to keep her temper and good
h"1 s; but she was well-principled and strong
"•'niled, and as she sometimes said when the
| " ; jh'jors pitied her for what she had to bear—
-n, woman ! but the back is made for the bor-
| !?n i an 'J He that has seen fit to give me heavy
lias given me'also r stout heart and braid
-ers to bear them. AnJ better than all, He
has given me my ain dear Marion to be a help and
comfort to me in all my difficulties."
" A help lassie? A hindrance you mean."
'■ No, woman, a help Guile kin my spirit would
fail me out and but if I had no Mari'n to k*ep trie
up—to read to me out ol the Lord's book—for you
ken lamno a great scolard mysel'—and to learn
me bonnie psalms and hymns to eing when I am
dowie (disheartened.")
The picture displayed by these simple words
was a touching one ; but much more touching was
the reality of Anfiie's devotion to Marian. When
hei day's labor was over, she hurried back to her
I poverty-stricken home; and having swept out and
dusted the kitchen, and set on the kettle for tea—
an indulgence which she labored hard to afford the
invalid—she would creep up the ladder-like stairs
to the loft, which was her sister's sleeping cham
ber, and, wrapping her in an old shawl, would car
ry her down stairs, place her in her own peculiar
chair, anil wait upon her with die tenderness of a
sister and the watchfulness of a slave.
When tea was over, the open Bible was laid on
the table ; a splinter of the clear cannel coal of the
: country, which the very poor of the district frcquent
; ly used insteaJ of can Jles, was set on the upper
| bar of the grate ; and by its flickering light the two
j sisters would spend the evening together, the young.
• er employed in darning and patching their weli
worn garments, the elder in reading to herjrom the
holy volume. Meanwhile " daft Jeanie" would
I wander in anJ out, backward and forward, some
times amusing herself woh playing spiteful tricks
jon Annie—to whom as years rolled by, she seem
ed to take a strange antipathy—someiimes sitting
cowered up on the hearth, maundering and moan
ing, and in spite of their efforts to the contrary,
producing the most depressing effect upon her
i daugriter s spirits. At such times it was useless to
try to induce her to go to bed ; her naural perver
i sity seemed to find pleasure in refusing to do so,
tiil Annie, worn out by her hard day's woik, was
ready to fall asleep in her chair, and was yet una
. ble to go to bed till she had seen her mother safely
i in hers.
In spite o! these disadvantages, however, Annie
grew up a handsome, cheerful girl, respected by all
who knew her, and dearly loved by those who
were intimate with her. But she had very few in
timates. She had 110 leisure to was'e in idle gossip,
she could not spend an evening hour rambling by
the sparkling Nethan water, or by the banks of ihe
stately Clyde; no one ever found her ioiering in
1 the hay-field alter the sun was down; no one ever
met her at a kirn (harvest home) or other rural
gaye y; and on Saturday at e'en' she would hurry
home to Marian, rather than join the group of
merry lads and fassies gathered round the village
well. Marian was her one engrossing thought—
to be with her, her grea est happiness ; and rio hol
: ulay pleasures could in her eyes equal the delight
she felt when. 011 a summer Sabbath afternoon, she
carried her helpless charge 111 her arms to the top
1 ot Dykiebolt's field, and let her look at the trees,
the sky. and the tushing water, and listen to the
song of the lark as it fluttered in the blue ether
: above them, or to the mavis singing in the old ap
j pie tree thai hung its branches so temptingly over I
the oichard wall.
But a time came when what had hithetfo been !
Annie's greatest pleasure, was put in competition
with one tar greater; when the heart that had lav
ished so much affection on her crippled sister, and
had stooJ steady in filial duty to a selfish and luna
tic mother, was subject to a trying ordeal.
One eventful year, when an early spring and in- !
; tensely hot summer had caused the cornfields of
j Blinkbonnie to ripen with such unheard of rapidity
I that the Irish reapers had not yet made their ap
! pearance in their neighborhood, it was announced j
j throughout the vale of Nethan, that 1! every man,
; woman and child in the district did not aid in set
ting the harvest, halt the crop would be lost. Now,
as David Caldwell, the tenant of Blinkbonnie farm
was a great favorite in the neighborhood, everybo
dy who could handle the fickle, responded to his
appeal, and made quite a 1 ploy' (fete) of.going to
reap at Blinkbonnie. Marian Livingston-* had i
been so great a sufferer (hat season, that Annie had
given up farm-labor tor ' sewing work,' as shefail
ed embroidery, that she might be more at home
with her sister, and secure a larger income; but
sedentary employments v ere so repugnant to her
natural active habits, that she rejoiced at the neces
sity which forced her to join the reapers, for David
Caldwell himself had asked her to come, and he
and his family had been too steadily kind to Maii
an lor her to refuse such a lequesi. even had she
wished it. But she did not wish it; and she was
among the first of the reapers who appeared at die
farm.
Biinkbonnie wa, as its name suggest, a very
preiiy place. Srnated on the slope ola penile hill
that faced the south, it was the earliest (aim in dial
part ol Clydesdale : and as ihe winding river bath
ed the foot ol ihe hill, and the woods ol Craigne
than clothed the opposite bank, it was aiso a favor
i e resort ot the young people of the neighborhood,
who found a drink of May Caldwell's buUeimdk',
or a bile ol her pease-meal soones, a very pleasant
conclusion to their evening strolls. In short Blink
bonnie was as popular' a place as the Caldwell's
wete popular people, and everybody did their ut
most to get the corn in quickly. As we have said,
Annie Livingstone was a good hand at the ' heuk,'
or sickle it was natural thai the best " bernlster,"
or binder ol sheaves, should be selected for the part
of the field where she was ■ and much rural mirth
and wit was thrown in the endeavors of the two
very different people to secure this honorable title,
and its attendant position. They were Altck Cald
wptl, the farmer's brother, a journeyman eaipenter
of Neihan loot, and Jamie Ross, the blacksmith,
who had been friendly rivals all their lives, and
were so in the present instance ; but Annie was by
general vote chosen umpire between them, and
sire gave judgment in A lick's favor.
In those days the Clydesdale lasses wore tlioohl
Scottish peasant dieas of the short gown and pent
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
"REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
coal, one which we fear is almost exploded, but
which was as becoming us it was convenient. In
it many a girl who would have looked common
place in modern costume, appeared piquant, if not
pretty; and to Annie Livinas'one it was peculiarly
suited. Her broad but eloping shoulder, and her
ronnded waist, showed togre.it advantage in the
close fitting tight gown, whose clear pink color,
contrasting with the deep of the liiisey-woolsev pet
ticoat gave a look of freshness and cleanliness to
her whole appearance, which was enhanced by the
spodess parity ot her neckerchief, and the snowy
: whiteness of her throat. In short, with her well
knit figure, her rosy cheeks, her smoothly snood
| ed hair, her dark eyes, and her " wee bit month
. sir® sweet anu bonnie," Annie was altogether a
very comely lassie ; and when she blushed and,
looked down, as Alick thanked her for her judg
ment given in his favor, he thought her ro very
pretty, I hat he was strongly tempted to catch her
in his arms and give her a hearty kiss—a mode
, of expressing admiration, at which many girls in
their primitive district might have been more flat
tered than annoyed ; but there was something in
Annie Livingstone's whole manner and conduct
which made it impossible to take eucli a liberty
; with her.
; Nevertheless; when the reapers returned home
that night. Alick refused his brother's invitation to
remain at Blinkbonnie; and he not only contrived
to keep near Annie all the way home, hut was
waiting for Iter next morning at the end of Dykie
bull s field to escort her to the farm, and make
himself agieeable to her on the way ihidier, by
j promising to show her where she could find some
I wild flower roots, which Marian had long wished
; lo have transplanted to their li'de garden.
" It is a pity, Annie that you do not turn this
kail yard ol yours to betler account," Alick said
that evening, when, on tii9 flea of carrying the
roots for her, he accompanied he. down to the cot
lage; "it would'grow pota'oes and turnips as well
as kail, and that would make a pleasant change for
Marian."
Annie blushed.
" May be so,- she sai J, ingeniously," bul I have
nae time for garden-work. I wish whiles that 1 i
had, for Marian is terrible fond of flowers "
The hint, so unintentionally given, was eeizej
wi:h avidity, and from thai time forward many of
Alick's leisure hours were devoted to Annie's gar- i
den, anJ no: a Sunday passed over without a visit j
to " daft Jeane's collage to bring a nosegay lor
Marian. Such considerations affected Annie very
much ; but Alick s weekly visit, after a lime, gave i
her almost as much pain as pleasure. It was de- ■
lighlfdl, certainly, to Fee how happy they made;
Marian; and to lierselt, personally, they were in i
every way gratifying, s.ie did so l.ku to hear her ;
sister and Alick talk together, to listen to their re- j
marks on the books they had read, am! the thoughts i
they had thought ; and to fee! that, unlearned as !
she was, she could appreciate the intellectual gifts '
which both posses-e.l, and which they had the pow
er giving forth so well; but she sum found "hat to
her mother Alick's presence was very distasteful.
So long as he was there, she kept tolerably quiet—
a stranger s presence generally has a certain con
trol over persons afflicted as s e was ; bul the rrro
ment he quitted die house, she idemnified herseii
for her enforced good behavior by increased res'-
lessness and ill-temper. She abused Alick in no
measured terms, ill treated Annie worse than ever,
and made Marian suffer in consequence.
And yet it was impossible to put an end loAl. j
ick s vi-iis. It Annie told him not to come to tiie
cottage, lie said with a srniie, " that he would not.
if she forbade him, come ben the house; but he
could not leave the garden uncared for, nor could
he do without seeing her and Maii'n on Sabbaths
in Dokiebutt s field. Man n would miss him iihe
did not come to see her, and bring her nosegay,
and carry her down to the waterside, or to the bon- i
nie fir wood on the Lnriaik road ; it was so dull for I
her poor body to spend ilka Sabbath in Dykiebulds
field. Besides Mar'n liked him to come, whalev- j
er Annie did "
Poor Annie's heart beat fast.
0:i Aiick !'' she began, hut suddenly recollect
ing herself, she stopped abruptly, and no persua
sion could induce her to finish tier sentence.
She felt intui'iveiy that it was not only to talk to
Marian that Alick came sooftPn She was consci
ous that it was not Marion s -yes fie sought when
he spoke those beautiful words which caused Iter
heart to glow, and .which seemed to shed on earth,
and tree, and sky, a glory they had never known
till now. But she fell, also, that this ought not to
be, that in her peculiar situation she was not enti
tled to encourage such attentions and yet, alas •
she could not be so unwomanly as to tell him plain
ly that she understood whv he lavished so much
kindness and time on her sister. No, she had noth
ing for it but to let things tuke their course, and
strive to guard her own heart ag linst turn *sSha no
longer, therefore, inteirlicted his v isi s. but she took
evety opportunity that oflered to leave him alone
with Marian, arid steal out, meanwhile, to the
most sequestered spots near at hand, where she
might commune with her own heart, and seek Irorn
heaven the strength necessary losaonfice her own
hopes of happiness to the claims ol duty, and the
comlort of her helpless chaiges.
Thus time stole on, till one of those lonely strolls
she chanced to meet some of h-*r acquaintances
walking along the road in the Cratgtieihati direc
tion. They greeted heartily, and asked whether
she would come with them to iha preaching.
"The preaching V she said. '• What preach
ing ?"
" Eh, Inssie, did you no' hear that Mr. Cameron
ol Carnbns, is to preach the night in he Campfield ?
He is a real grand preacher. You had best come."
Now this invitation was very tempting to Annie,
for she could 00l afford In go ntore than once a
lor night to church at Lanark saeiV mile- distant,
and she hkeJ nothing be.n-r than a • grand preach
er while enough of the old iwagtuinve Carne
o.iun teuiparament remained in her to mako an
open air service more agieeable in her eyes than
in a church.
" Vou see Annie." her friends contributed, " the
day's preaching is a kind of trial, to see if die folk
care lor good doctrine ; and if ihey come, we hear
tell that Mr. Cameron will preach there like other
babbath. Sae, come awa, like a good lassie.—
Marian can weei spare you for time."
" Maybe she Cdn spare tne the day," Annie an
swered, " for Alick is down by yonder the now,
sac she will no' be weary in, for want ol me. Just
bide a minute til! ! spe "
And away she Hew to make the proposal to
Marian. She gave her unqualified approbation to
Annie's going; but a shadow passed over Alick's
face, even while he volunteered a promise to re
main with Marian during the sister's absence, and
added, wi'h a laugh, which somehow had little
mirth in it, that he had just been telling Maiian that
he thought he must set on Ihe kettle himself the
night if he was to get his tea with them, for Annie
seemed 10 have forgotten them altogether.
' Oh,no, 1i! sort the kettle," Annie said nervously
as she lilted it from the crook, and proceeded to
fill it with water at the well; but Alick look it from
her saying at the same tirne'that " it would set Iter
better it she gaed to her ain room, and made her*
self braw for the preaching."
The touch of bitterness in his tone as he said
this, brought die tears to Annie's eyes. He liule
guessed how willingly she would have given up
the preaching, anything to spend an hour his com
pany, it it hul been right-, but she fell that it was
not so for enlier of their sakes, so she brushed
away her tears, smoothed her glossy hair, put a silk
handkerchief he had'giveu her round herjneck ; and
having seen that Maiian had everything she requir
ed, ahil that her mother was quietly asleep in her
chair, she hurried to j >in her friends.
It was a lovely September evening. The leaves
were bright with (he tints of early autumn ; the
apple trees tor which CiydesJaie is famous, laden
with golden f.uit, hung temptingly over theorcbard
walls; and die high-road, passing through a gently
nndula nig country abouded 111 charming peep 3 of
me ever-flowing C yJe. whose varied banks, some
times rich irr wood, sometimes hemmed in by
rnessive rocks, and someiimes skii'ed by eenily
sloping and extensive meadows, comprise some
of the faire-i river scenery in Scotland. Annie.
however, walked iorward with a heavy heart.
\\ hat was it to her that the sky was bright, and the
sun brillian. ? dia liie sott, fleecy clouds pded them
selves up lorms round the horrizon, and
that all nature seemed happy and joyous? There
was an oppression on her spirits she could not j
shake of!—a feeling dial some cnaes of tier fate'
was at ham! whim -La had no power to avert, but
whose consequet.ee would take the life Irom her
heatt, the glory hom her sun and sky. Alick had
spoken to her as he had never done before, as if
he thought that others might have more influence
over her than Le had as if ehe'could care for any
one tiling or person to fix her thoughts on the place
to which site was going, and for what purpose,
Alick's voice rang in her ear—Alick's sad disap
pointmenl look flaunted her memory; and she
reached her ilesiinaitori long before she regained
her composure.
J he Campfield was a small holme washed l>y
the Nethan Water, which, making a sudden whirl
at ihal point, surroundedJt on three sides,'while the
fourth was boun-'ed by a wood hill, which separa'-
ed it from the ruined Castle ot Craignethan. It
was a tradition in the coun'ry ;i!ia! (lie* spot had
been a camp ol die Covenanters, in the days ot
Claverhouse, and that a band/if Royalists had been
defeated there before ihe"ereat, battle ol Bothwell
Brigg. Die people ot|die district still point out die
padi by which- the Covenanters gained the hill that
commanded Cruigeihan Castle: and allege that,
for a time at least, die Royalists were in their hands.
At ad events, lire place, is so connected in their
minds with rheplays (if the Covenant, that it is a
favorite site for a field preaching; and nothing can
be more picturesque than the scene it presercs tin
der such an aspec. The steep hill-side, the rriur
muring water.J'he sofr twymv turf, the crowd of
listeners, in every attitude of earnest attention, hang
ing on the eloq lent words of diejpreacher, take one
back to trie old times when, in caves and dells and
bleak inoorsiiles, the stern men of ihe Solemn
L°ague and Covenant listener! to truth at the
risk of their own live*, and those of their nearest
and dearest. Jusi snc.L a'preaeher as might have
led these warlike ami determined men as Mr.
Cameron, ol C.nnbns. lie whs old in' years, with
silver hair and wrinkled brow; bul he had a clear,
penetrating eve. and tin look of power, mingled
with gen leness, tiiat uncompromising fove of right
and truth, which strike conviction to every heart,
and ron-e men's souls to do or die.
At arjy other lime Annie Livingston would have
listened to the preacher with a kindling eye and
glowing cheek, but to-day she sat there, pale and
cold, struggling to qiHI the tempter thai whispered
to her to forsake her natural duties for the love oi
one who was becoming dearer to hpr than all th-*
world beside. She tixn I her eyes on the minister
—she endeavoie lin Inflow his word, but the prayer
fell unheeded on her ear; and when the full sneli
of Hie p-t.iim, preceding the -srmun. rose into the
air. her voice, generally the clearest, and sweetest
of Git? congregation, quivered and was silent. But
the rnu-ie was not wholly wi hout influence on tier
toiiured heart; ami when ihey resumed iheir places
to givo ear to the sermon, her spirits felt more at
tuned to ihe duties of the hour.
I he text 21 ven out was ihts :— ;i No man havin n
pill iiia hand to the plough, a*ld looking back, is fn
tor the kingdom of God." Anino started as the
words were uttered, and as she. listened to the
doctrines which Mr Cameron deduced from them,
she felt as if he runs' have known her inmost
thoughts, sc forcibly di i fie warn his iiearers of the
sin of for s aking die true and nartowr path o! duty,
to follow die devices of their own heaits, so power-
Itillydid he pres%np->r (hem the necessity of sacri
ficing a!i that was most <iear to- ibetn even if it
{threatened to in'efe e with tfio appoin'ed course |
!of life which God had traced out for them. Amiir' -
hear! beat painfully, for she knew too well that he ,
spoke die truth. Sine tell that if she became Alick .
; Caldwell s wife she could no' then perform. b* i
; now did, those filial and S!ct°rly offices which had
: been hers from childhood, and which it would be
J mean and ciiminal to forsake. When she rose to
' receive the old minister's blessins, she vowed wi'h
a sad heart, bu' a s'eadfat spirit, tha', come whet
wonld, she would abide by her duty. Poorgnl!
she litde thought how near and severe a lest await
ed her.
"Annie," said a voice at her esr, a* she turned
to leave the Cnmpfield; " did you no' ken I was
so near you ?"
Alick need not have aked the question, for the
sudden flush of the cheek, and die quick bright i
sparkle of the eye, were enough to show her pre
vious ignorance.
" Marian bade me follow yon, lassie. She said '
she did not like the look ot the sky, and would i'eei '
rnair at ease if [ conveyed you home."
" Hout," said Annie hastily; "what makes
Mari'n sac timoursoma? Tiie sky is trine and j
bright, and even if it should be wet, what does a 1
drop af rain signify ?
I " I thought you would, have likej me to come
Annie," was Alick's simple answer.
Annie turned away her head to conceal how •
much his sorrowful tone affected her
" Ay, so I do," she said with assumed cheerful- i
1 ness; " but I d.nna like Marian being left alone,
60 we had best wa!k fast hame," and she quick- !
ened her pace. As ihey did so, a distant multerine '
of thunder was heard, and Annie added, " Marian
was right, af:er all. It is wonderful how she j
guesses some things. Alick She is like the bird- :
and the beasts thai get restless arid discomforable j
before a storm, although there i not u sign of 11 in '
the heavens bigger than a man's hand."
"Thai ana i- bigger," Alick said, pointing to a 1
mass of threatening cloud which was rapidly cov
ering the sky; " and if yon would lake my advice,
Annie, you would gang with with me to Blink
bo- nie, and bt.le there tiil the storm is past."
"No, no," she said nervously; I matin ganz ;
hame to Marian, and my mother, poor body."
Alick remonstrated no further, but silently fol !
lowed her, as she flew rather than ran in ihe direc- 1
tion of Nethan Foot, it was growing very dark,
and the rest of the congregation, having no such
has'.e as Annie's to hurry homeward, had already t
taken shelter in theicot'.age near Campfield, advis
ing her as they did so, to tollow her example.
" 1 cannot, she sa.d ; " I must get heme, 'deed
I mu.-t;" and s'riking off Irom the high road, she
hurried along ihe by path by the Nethan water.— :
The evening grew darker and darker; it seemed j
as if ihe twilight had been forgotten, and the bright 1
day had suddenly been merged in The {
thunder became every moment louder, on. l the j
lightning flashed through the trees w1 h fearful .
brilliancy. The nver roared along its bar.k; and 1
a they approached the spot ot the Ne lian's con- |
ffuenee w.tli the Clyde, even Annie's brave spirit j
trembled. She wondered hether tliev could eros* ;
ihe stepping-stones in such a flood, and in such
darkness. But she had a strong will; she kn**w
the stones to trust as well by night as by day; and
besides, the storm had so la'elv begun, that the
Nethan, he thought, could nor have ri-<en v,-rj •
much. So she hurried forward still fa-ter, and her j
foot was already on the overhangipg bank, when 1
Alick drew her forcibly back.
" Are yon nriaj, Annie," he cried, !o try tin
stepping-stones in such a *, ml ? ' (flood) Ami he
threw ins strong arms around her.
' L-t me go,.Mick! I must get hame to.M Kian. '
she said, struggling to ge. free ; and she might have
succeeded in doing so, t r she was nearly Ins
equal in physical strength, had not a livid s'l,ih
lighted up the scene at the moment, and shown
her the pent which awaited iter. The generally
calm Nethan Water was seething like a cauldron
and careering down to the Clyde with tiucontrol
able force. A if a thick eoilairi had been with
j drawn by dt a fl i-h, she saw the batiks giving way
before her eyes and the trees that grew on them
nodding to the fall. It was a glorious but teriific
picture, as the whole.bend of the river illnmiiiat d
by that fcaiful light -hone oi:t for one single ins ant
then disappeared in the darkness. Hot short as that
glance had been, it had shown her that hit! not
Altek pulled her back, she must have been en
gnlphe.l in the waters, and no mortal power cou'd
have brought to shore HIIVO, The imminence of
the danger from which she had been saved or er
emite her \vi ha sudden*-veikriess; she trembled,
her snuggles ceased, her head hooped on Ahok's
shoulder, and she burst into itats.
" Annie ." lie said soothingly, " dinna giect, f r
you see I couldna it-1 yuu drown ynursef' afore my
ei.n, and no'try to save you;'' and the s-alwa Ih
arms that had lately so sturdily opposed her will,
now lidded tier in a close embrace.
'■ On, Alick. sho replied, with her usuaTsimp'e
tru'hfulue-s, "it's no'that gars , r . e g t( -et but tne
thought dial my willfulness might hue cost yout
life as well as my ain "
He stooped down and pressed a first ktss on t! e
brow -hat still rested on his shoulder.
"Annie, my own Annie !' he whispered:
" what would life be to rite wanlin' you ? '
" Pinna say'dist, Alick." sit • said hnrricillv,
rousing herself fram the tnomeo'aiy yielding to her
sohct teelings; " this is ;I-*I her a lime nor a piare
to think of such things'" 1 maun gang hame to
Mario."
It was impossible for Annie af er that Sabbath
adventure to conceal either from herself or Alick
tiiui thuy loved each other deatly ; but no per
suasion cnuld induce her ;o oonsent to her to be his
wife. In vain he represented that he could con
sider Maiian's presence irt his household as a
JpfesMi g, anil that he,had been so long accustomed
to her mother's ways that he could find no dirt?- ■
cuity in accomodating himself to them. I
sv t ===sOTm&giß be*
"I; wfl. 'run thai M L'vjngstone was a little
t.f inrn, bui that was so j'nacli the better as U
*< 'airly k-'pt her in cheek."
Annie shook her ho.rd
'• Me knew beitier what her mother really was,
and to wha she would expose them both; and she
i'ved Aii k 100 dearly to inflict such anxiety upon
him "
i hen could she not remain in her present home
and have a !*sie to wait on her?" Alick asked.
He was well to do in the world ; he could easily
afTird the expenses, and (hat would make all
straight.
Bui Annie wa firm in resisting every tempts*
lion. On that same night when Al.ck had saved
her life she had knelt down by Marian's bed. and
in her presence hud vowed a vow to the Lord, that
no'hing should ever persuade her to yield to him
in this ma ter. And she would not, she could not
be forsworn.
"Welt, we!], Annie," Alick said with a faint
smile, '• a wilful wife maun ha'e her way. He
thai will to Conper maun to Couper ; but if Annie
Livingstone is no" to be my wife dehl tak' my if
any o her shall have me." And he marched
out oi the coi'.a_:e.
fr.a teais sprang into Annie's eyes—they came
there very often now—but she wiped them away
and said—
"Ay av, he thinks so now; tut men canna'
wait as women do, hoping and hoping when the
heart i- sick and the spirit faint. He will marry
some d iy ; and if it be for his happiness, 1 will be
thankful."
Still it was very hard for her to be thankful,
when, year bv year, she saw him courted by the
bonniest lassies cf Clydesville ; or learning that A'-
ick r aid well had been ihe b.'ythesi singer at the
Homgenay (last night of lira year) at Blinkbonnie,.
or that every one suspected that the fine valentine
Elien L older g it on St. Valentine's day came from
" bonnie Alick." At length the report of his en
gagemerit to Ellen became so prevalent, that even
Marian believed it; and one fine Jay, when return
ing from Ltnaik. where she had been tocarry home
her sewing woik, Annie herself met Alick and El
len walking together in ihe fir wood. A pang went
through her bean at 'his confirmation of all .-he had
heard and *he ws startled to had trorr. it how
li ue belief she had hitherto had in the truth of the
*toiy Aet il was only natural and right that it
should be tine. Ii was now three years since sho
had refused Alick and very few men would have
waited hi; her so long.
fnus thinking, she was a linle sti'psised to see
him come to the cottage a usual, arid bring with
him Marian .- nosegay, and some numbers of a pe
riodica', with which fie had supplied her tagulariv
; since its commencement. But though he had not
| I'imo! E.i to be kind to Marian, Annie fancied that
. lii Ui..U*.l 1 M generally Oirj - jn.t
' w i'h the view ol putting him ai ease, she to ik
, courage to congratulate him on his marriage to Ll.
j I en, nrnl to wi-h him every happiness.
i 1 ie_g.it up, and advanced straight to the place
i wheshe - nohe took her two hands in Ins, and
said serious;y—
-" Annie, do you mean what you say ] Do you
really believe that I love, or, rather, that I mean to
i marry Ellen, while you ate still Annie Living.
j voin 7 >
T he eolor came am! wen! In Annie's cheek arid
j her eye- fnled under his steady glance ; but she
; answered faintly—
i "I did me in i>. Alick; and think you would
; only do what is rignt and pruJent il you married
her."
'• A id yon Marian," he Mid. 'timing to the poor
i ciipple. <• What do you think
' That a man is ihe be ter ola wile," die *a d
[ tJHietly, " and dia' as yon will never get Annie,
j vou might j is' as well take Ellen."
Aiick looked distressed, and muttered
" Pnr <fv r nr'i\kr m-. Mirian,
i*II c'eu ink' up Wi' JeaH."
I :it is wh it th* a;iJil si!j of tha EwebticVssay?.
! k a ti that, he a.l led . bui il is not my doctrine,
\i i i ir>. 1 consider marriage in a higher and holi
er hght ; and il \ ir.ie refuses me, 1 must e'en rest
as i am. Son w von'have my thought on the
tria :er. and yon must never again instill me by be
lieving li e nonsense ol ihe Neman Foot chatters."
An I thus things wen! on, month afer month,
vear after year ; and 'he only comfort poor Annie
had in her life ofiri ti was the convic'ion that she
was doing her duly. As age advanced on da;t
Jennie, -he became more unmanageable; and ad
'he exertions her daugh'erc niid make were scarce
ly sufficient to keep her eccentricities within
bounds, and to support h-r and Mauan. Uu. An
nie contrived ii somehow : an.l not even Alick
guessed lite biiter s'nigifes, the personal sacrifices,
he weinc and the starvation she enduied
to keep her poor mother from ihe parisli. and to
provide (or .Marian he 1 lie luxuries which in her
pesitioa were actnal necessities.
1 lie end !iuw\evcr came ut le ig h.and when it
was least expected " Lai. Jeauie" took a fever
and died, and Annie's toils were cnmparaiively
hght thenceforward ; but in one particular it seem
ed as il dm release hud come too late, for Alick,
weary of waiting *■> many years as Jacob did lor
L'ah, h.;d quitted Nethu i Foot a few months pre
viously > .me sj .I he h.iil gone 16 EJinburg, soma
said u> Luitdon . but at .*ll even's, h3 had di*a; •
peaied entirely from ilia neighborhood ; and in
those days of heavy postage so little intercon sa
was kep. up Ivtwe.-.-i distant friends, '.hat even his
brother at B inkboaaie only wrote to him at lot g
nilerva.f. I'hus it happened that neatly a whole
yeprel-psed ere Alick learned "that dult Jeanie
was gone at las', and a' the folk thought poor Annie
had a good riddance of her; but nevertheless she
looked mtiir nl and pale than she had ever done
before.''
The news cause f A'ick to hurry back to Ne'haa
Foot, and one beautiful spring morning he reached
tbe home of his childhood. He had walked horn
Lanatk; and, somewhat orercome with heal and