The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1851-04-17

head, or Q dimpled cheek for Sabra was not
heartlens or ungenerous girl where her sympa-
thies had been taught to flow.
But o. the months passed on, they brought
change over Jeanie's life and aims She, who
had been the most buoysnt Of oil the buoyant-
hearted, the careless, warbling lark Of the prairie
became at once serious, silent, and sad. Sabra
rallied her. and teased her. vainly, to find out the
secret But Jeanne only looked meekly down in
silence, or brushed away the gathering tears
Sabra grew angry at last.
"Ye're making little hypocrite Of yersel p
she exclaimed, one evening, when jeanne had re-
turned from a weekly conference meeting
which she had as usual insisted on attending,
though she must 20 and return alone. "Ye mean
to win the favor o. the minister and the manse
folk, and ye're no the bit better for o. that!n
"Sister, it's nae the praise Of men p answered
Jeanne, dropping her head into her sisters lap
"Its apither life mean to lead, Sabra help me
Oh, have been bad, bad to you in times lang
syne forgive me, my ain sweet sister I"
You-bad. Get up wiz you, child, you're
gone possessed What's come 10 you 2n
"Its come to me that Eve been a sinful crea-
ture, Sabra, a. my lifetime lang; and maun to
turn to do right; VII Heavens help maun to
try! Sister, let us love ane anither Dinna fret
WI me, though We , betimcs. Sure we've
naething else to love bHt our brother in the wide
warldw
Jeanie's smile came back to her cheek, softened,
but more brighton it had caught ray of light
from above. Ii was in vain that her sister, shafts
of wit sssaied what she thought Jeanie's oonsci-
entious folly the younger sister went on in her
own quiet way. Sometimes jeanne expostulated,
sometimes she wept; but she always smiled again
more sweetly than ever, and the sunshine of that
smile mould pierce through the clouds of Sabras
i'll temper. But sudden storm was at hand.
| 10 al ;Oto Wit Hush aH
checks into her room one morning upon her re-
turn from one Of the few calls she deigned to
make "tell me truth, girl Are you promised
to wed George Stew6rsp
| Jeanne was unprepared for this fierce onset in
deed, poor girl, she had hardly asked her own
heart the question, much less answered it to any
other. She crimsoned till the tears were pressed
into her soft, appraised, blue eyes, and calmly
answered "Now
That's my ain true sister, worthy the name O.
| Spencer And we'll ha none O. that fellows
ganging VII you to kirk or choir mair, Jeanie ~
"And for why, Sabrs %
&c For why p fit question that, for laird's
daughter! The lad is nought but poor farmers
son, without drop o. real blood in his veinsp
"We're nought else but farmers folk" an
swered jeanne, fearlessly, "and the same is hs
It's nae The blood that msks the man, say what you
will, sister mauna treat George slightingly p
"Do we lops him ~ demanded Sabra, in loud
passionate, contemptuous tone. "Do ye iOve that
beggar lad, to disgrace yersep and your race for
ever2 Out VII it, girlm
Jeanne sprang up and looked her firmly in the
face.
"Sabra be at peace, and vex me nae mair |
have told ye look not to wed--but ,rhsn wed,
and vhere wed, shall be my minding, sister, and
for you-e'en look to your ain ~
In six months from that dsnDJ eanie was no
longer Jeanne Spencer In spite of her sisters
taunts and ridicule, and passionate reprcaches
she had calmly pursued her chosen path, and
welded the chosen one of her young hearts first
affections. Everybody blessed sweet Jeanne
Stewart, when her bridegroom bore her away to
his distant home, whittier he went to carve out
his own independent fortune with his sunny
hearted bride
Sabra's days of housekeeping were soon "num-
bered and finished, when the soul of all domes-
tic operations had vanished. The brother, too,
was ILL., worn out, and harassed by his farming
msfortunes They left their pretty cottage,
rented the dilapidated farm, and went back to
share the humber home of Mrs. X.
Sabra was too beautiful to be left "to blush
unseen forever. dashing adventurer from n
distant city esped her in his ramblings wooed
and won her. and bore her away in triumph
From her married life will not lift the veil
Mcdonald Spencer was an estimable young
man-so every neighbor allowed but i'll health
and an unfit education had thrown thick veil
over all his better qualities. One summer, our
district school was suddenly bereft of its teacher
In looking about for substitute the committee
very reasonably pitched upon young Spencer.
1t was in some trepidation that he stepped to
the chair of state, trepidation which was not
upnoticed by the scholars who very naturally
inferred that 1t arose not without reason. Moth
ing strikes such a wound at the very existence of
a school want Of proper selfconfdence in the
teacher. A month passed and Diminishing the
half dozen scholars who only remained of all his
straying flock, Mcdonald Spencer flung down his
birchen sceptre, and took up once more the hoe
and the fail in its stead.
And Jeanie2 have seen her once since then
II was on still, COOL summer Sabbath morning
that she came once more, visiter to sit in the
little church where her heart had first learned TO
love-to worship. As she turned her sweet, soul
beaming face, every old friend looked up, and re.
cognised the bride George Stewart had borne
away from the flower prairie There was a vel
come in every SMILE saw it's reflection on her
clear, open countenanoe. What though the bon
net that shaded 1t was far from 9" a la mode 2"
What though the plaid folded about her warm
heart was plain and coarse She was not be-
loved by one heart the less or welcomed one whit
less kindly than II she had swept through her
uncles far-away halls In diamonds and in siken
robes Yet, as looked upon her, could hardly
repress one smile. II rose to the memory of my
childish ideal Of a noblemans daughter!