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THE GIFT oF A HEART: A SCOTTISH…

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THE GIFT oF A HEART: A SCOTTISH STORY. [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] CHAPTER II. THE WIDOW'S NARRATIVE. LEAVING the travellers to pursue their journey, we will accompany the new comers into the farmer's kitchen. It is a good-sized apartment; plainly furnished, but clean and comfortable. It is lighted by a small iron lamp, which is suspended over the mantelshelf; but in presence of the log fire, blazing and crackling away so cheerfully on the hearth, its ineffectual flame tspaled. The name of the farm is Birkendale, and that of its occupant Robert Scott. He is one of a class which ie now fast disappearing from the face of the country-- the class of small farmers. Jeannefcte, tha partner of his cares, a comely matron, who loohs much about his own age, has been his wife for near eighteen years. She has brought him five children, two of whom died in childhood. The survivors are .James, Jeanie, and Willie, who are aged respectively eleven, eight, and four. These with a "hafflin" lad who assists in the farm-work, and a maid who helps in the house, form the household of Robert Scott. The poor stranger has been divested of her snow. covered garments, and is now seated in the easy chair before the fire. She is a thin, sickly-looking person. of perhaps thirty. Her delicate frame appears but ill-fitted to contend with the cold of such a night, much less with its more painful accompaniment. She suffers from a harassing cough and her breathing is oppressed and difficult. Having, in reply to the kind inquiries of the good woman of the house, said that she would prefer a cup of tea to anything else, the kettle is placed on the fire, and the child is committed to the care of little Jeanie, who, with all a girl's natural tact in such matters, busied herself' in lôoking after his comfort. He is a little blue-eyed, dark-haired boy of eighteen months or so, poorly but neatly clad. He was sleep- ing when he was brought in but when Jeanie, in accordance with her mother's instructions, removed his little shoes and stockings, and proceeded to warm his cold feet, he wohe up and called for his "ma." A sight of ma reassured him, and he now sits perfectly contented in the lap of bis young nurse. Isn't he a sweet wee bairn, father ?" is the little maid's remark, as she holds the child up for her parent to admire. The kettle begins to give forth its cheerful song, the little brown-ware teapot ie produced, a suffi- ciency of the wonderful leaf is in' d, and presently a tempting cup of tea, with the asual accompani- ments, is placed before,the weary stranger. She partakes of the tea, but cannot eat. Her kind entertainers press her with all the warmth of genuine hospitality but she can only thank them and declare that she has no appetite. The tea revives her considerably, however; she speaks with greater ease, and proceeds to tell them her story. Her tather had been a joiner in Inverness. He died wfesn she was a girl of eighte en- and in the following fear her mother also died, leaving her and a sister, two years younger, to battle with the world. After their parents' death they both went out as domestic servants. Nearly three years before she became ac- quainted with a. young man named Campbell, a private toldier in the-th Highlanders, a party of whom were at that time statoned at Fort Goorge. She was married to him shortly after. Her friends told her she bad done very foolishly. Perhaps so, but it was a step she bad never had any cause to regret. He had always been a good, kind husband to her; and although his pay was very small, it was sufficient, with what she could earn by doing little jobs for his companions, to keep them. Some time alter their marriage he was ordered to join the depot of his regiment, then lying at Stirling; and while they were there, her little Edward (named after his father) was born. A few months after this the regiment was ordered to Malta, and she accompanied her husband thither. IVot long after their arrival, he was attacked with fever. From the first, he thought the hand of death was upon him, but he did not fear to die. He had been forced by misfortune into the army, and his character was very different from that of many of his associates. He was a good soldier of the cross, as well as a good soldier of his king and country and was not afraid at the thought of meeting the last enemy. His greatest grief was to leave his wife and their little boy, without a protector, in a cold world. With his last breath he had committed them to the care of Him who hath promised to be a Father 'to the fatherless Kid the widow's shield. Here the poor woman's feelings overcame her, and she sobbed aloud. Try and compose yourself," said Mr. Scott; you've had sore trials, but it's a consolation for us to know that all things work together for good to them that love His name; and although we may not see the way wherein He is leading us, we may be sure of this, that that way is the best." After a pause, she proceeded "Immediately after his death, I took ill myself. The labour and anxiety of watching over him during his illness had been too much for my constitution— which was never one of the strongest, and I was laid )n a sick bed. I thought I was going to follow my clear husband, but it was not to be so. I lay in a critisal state for many weeks, but (thanks to a kind Providence) I got over it. My little boy bad been taken care of during my illness by the wife of one of my husband's friends. It was a good while before I gathered much strength; but as soon as I was able, I same back to England, having made up my mind to return to Inverness. I arrived in London about two months ago; and after being a short time there, I got passage to Leith, From that place I carne by sea to Aberdeen, intending to take the coach to Inverness; but I found on my wrival there that my small stock of money was so rar reduced that I would have to walk. Heaven I knows I was very unfit for such a task but I made up my mind to try, and trusted to getting a lodging Mid a bit of meat for my child and myself from kind Christians on the way. I have only got thus far on Day Journey," said the poor woman, wiping away her fast flowing tears, and I begin to fear that I may never see the end of it." "Don't be discouraged," said Mrs. Scott, kindly; when you've had a good night's rest, you'll feel another thing and there's no need for you to be hurrying away from here. You'il stop till von get a bit stronger and the weather get's better, and we'll try and make you as comfortable as we can. You lee your bairn is taking to our Jeanie, just as if sua was his own sister. Poor wee teilow." May Heaven reward you for your Madness," was the widow's response. Her sinapie story had awakened the STmoathies of gvery member of the family; and as she had expressed » wish to retire to rest, Mrs. Scott set about making the necessary preparations. ° The accommodation in Birkendale farm-house was not extensive. The house was a plain, thatched Bo&age, of four apartments there was the but," fund the "ben," and two intermediate bed-clostts. For the enlightenment of the reader, who may be ignorant as to the meaning of the words but and ben," we may state th&t what is called the but, in the country districts of Scotland is the hit, h-n, which is used at the common sitting-room of the family, and is invariably furnished with a" box- bed"; and that the" ben" is the best room, used only on special occasions, and the "box-bed" with which it is also invariably furoished is generally the ■Ieeping-place of the master and mistress of the house. It was arranged that the widow should occupy one of the closet beds, and Mrs Scott having made the necessary preparations, sVe retired for the night, Jeanie having claimed that little Edward should be allowed to sleep with her; a course to which neither the child nor his mother offered any objection When Robert Scott offered up the evrnmg sacrifice of prayer at the family altar that night, he did Dot forget to commend, the soldiers widow and her infant son to the protection of the Almighty* and he blessed Him that Tie had put it in their power to administer some comfort to the hearts of the poor wanderers Robert," said Mrs. fkv.tt to her husband, when the^younger branches of the family had retired, I believe it's true what the poor woman said; I fear she'll never get the hngih'of Inverness, che seems to be far advanced on her last journey." J.l.J.1. J: CHAPTER III. BiliKENDALlS. ¡ THS farm of Birkenoale was charmingly situated on Me north bank of the river Deveron, in the parish of Almt'i V The Devw°n rises in th* highlands of aeenshire. and flowing throne h that county and Banffshire, forms in many places their boundary, and falls in to the German Ocean near the ancient—and sweet as ancient-town of Banff. Tbe scenery on the upper portions of its course is generally flat and uninteresting; but on the lower, where the country is fertile and richly wooded, it is lovely and attractive. The river ia a clear, running stream, its waters being as limpid and sparkling as those of its larger and better known sister, the Tweed. Robert Scott's dwelling looked out upon the river, which, taking a bend northwards some distance on, bounded his little farm on two sides. The farm occu- pied a gently rising ground above the road, between which and the river lay the haugh lands "—the most fertile fields on the farm. At a short distance behind the house rose a finely-wooded eminence, the base of which was fringed with the silver birch, and the sides and summit covered with the picturesque Scotch fir. A few hundred yards west of the cottage, amongst the woods stretching downwards to the river-side, a small burn came tumbling down a deep ravine, which in Bummer time was a scene of great beauty. The sides of this ravine were adorned with the hawthorn, the briar-rose, and other shrubs; while the yellow primroses, violets, daisies, and blue-bells bloomed sweetly around. Nor was the eottage out of harmony with the scene. The well-kept flower-plats in front, the honeysuckle and sweet-briar trained on its walls, and the fuchsias and geraniums in flower-pots on the window-sills, with a laSrge and tastefully-laid-out garden at the one end, bore testimony to Robert's skill in that delightful occupation which was provided for Adam, when the young earth, fresh and fair from its Maker's hands, was yet unblighted by the curse. Birkendale Farm, having thus a fine exposure to the south, and being well protected on the north and east, produced the earliest crops in the parish. In- deed, it. was Robert's boast that for several years running he had cut the first field of barley in the district. Five or six cows were kept on the farm, and if there was one thing more than another in which Mrs. Scott prided herself, it was her skill in butter and cheesemaking. Generally, throughout the northern part of the kingdom, the farmers' wives manu- facture their cheese from milk which has b-en de- prived, by repeated skimmings, of every trace of cream and consequently the article produced is as dry, curdy, and tasteless a stuff as ever induced an attack of dyspepsia. Mrs. Scott had the good sense to adjure this system, and the result was that she produced an eatable article, which sold readily at a fair price and she would sometimes remark, with A feeling of proud satisfaction, that, although she said it herself, she never saw any butter or cheese that she liked better than her own. The spiritual overseer of the parish of Moss-side was the Rev. David Stammer. The parish church, as is by no means uncommon in the rural parts of Scotland, was placed, not in the centre of the parish, but in one of its further corners; and hence it happened, Moss-side being a large parish, that the family at Birkendale had above four miles to walk to church. Notwithstanding this, their at. tendance there was as regular as that of any of their fellow-parishioners. (To be continued.)

AfTTlADT A CHAPLAIN"OSTORY.

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