Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1863-02-17
written for the Worcester Daily Spy.
MARGARET KERR,
OR, THE HOUR OF TRIAL

the sulllSht, ana upon Its banks were fields
waving withyellow broom, while the mountains
eretinged with the rich purple of the heather
and occasional clusters of trees. Cottages
and ruins of castles were scattered around.
Among the frs, larches and ash at the foot of
the hill, where runs ripping along the clear
stream, bordered by dropping trees and creep
ing vines, is the cottage home of Margaret
Kerr. Followed by titled lords, as well as the
children of poverty, the loved pastor, Marga-
retS father, was borne to the church-yard
few months before, to rest by the side of her
mother; upon whose grave the tall rank grass
had grown many year. Faithfully had the
good man labored. When trouble and sorrow
preyed upon the hearts of any, sweetly ddthe
words Of the old man heal the wounds, and in
time of rejoicing his voice of counsel and con-
gratulatlons were ever prompted by his loving
heart.
Margaret sits viewing the beautiful scenery
these hills, rocks and rivuets have Il pecu-
liar charm to her, for this is home. No wa
tiers are SO dear to her as the silver stream
which winds among the hills, where, led by
the hand of her grandfather in childhood, she
had listened to words of wisdom from his lips,
or with loved companions had twined garlands
and gathered fresh flowers. As the sun sank
beneath the hills and darkness gathered, a
shadow passes across her heart, and she
thinks OF loved ones on the shining shore, and
almost longs to join them there.
A light tap at the door and the musical
voice of Clara Stewart spoke her name II
have stolen from the hall, dear Maggie when
oh when shall we ever meet so again? To-mor
row is your bridal day, and then far, far over
the Atlantic! Oh, Maggie, it is too bad"
The dim twilight betrayed not the looks of
sadness, but trembling voices and halfsup-
pressed signs told Of true friendship and its
regret at parting.
at is so hard" at last sobbed Margaret.
''to leave home and dear friends; but | love
Ivan Sinclair, and he feels we had better 90.
lie has fine opportunity to enter business in
New York, and would there be free from trials
we should ever have here, you know"
Clara Stewart knew what these trials we're.
She knew the naughty pride of Lord Sinclair
and the bitterness exhibited towards him for
his love towards the pride of our borough.
Clara's wealthy and influential family he had
courted, and never concealed the desire to
gain union with it, in order to benefit his
own embarrassed estate; and though she often
looked admiringly upon Ivans noble elegant
form, there was never a wish to supplant her
friend in his affections.
Margaret had not gold, though noble blood
coursed through her veins; but she was rich
In virtue and those graces which the truly no.
bic revere. 10 Ivan, she was the embodi-
ment of his ideal Dreams and with her love
he telt prepared to meet the trials and cares of
life.
Long did the friends talk of the past, the
present, and their hopes for the future. To-
kcnS of remembrance were exchanged and
the two vowed friendship to the end. Care
for our little charity school, Clara, for my
sake" said Margaret ''and never forget Dame
Linn. o how precious have been my visits
to her sick bed! How full OF heaven are her
thoughts. 1t is hard to leave this dear spot,
where lay the bodies of my dear parents, and
where their labors were spent; but the same
Heavenly Father will guide and protect me,
if | forsake him not " Their tears mingled
together and long was it before 'Good night
was spoken.
The morrow dawned, and cheeriIy did the
birds welcome its light with their notes of
melody. Never had their songs seemed
sweeter to Margaret, then as she passed I'M
der the frs and pines to the kirk-yard. Care
fully did her hands Irvine the myrtle around
the head-stones and pluck each intrusive weed
from the precious mounds; while teartully
did she fall upon her knees and with bowed
head, she plead for heavenly guidance and
strength that she might meet her dear ones in
the home above. A bell from distant tower
marked the passing hours, and starting, then
hesitating Margaret pressed her lips to the
cold marble, where was written ''father" and
''mother," then sadly turned to the wel-trod
path through the pines and frs.
MargaretS was not gay bridal. While
wealthy friends had been mindful in adding
bountiful gifts to the stores of linen and silver,
the poor of the parish had Preserved their offer
ing. AS the small bridal party entered the
church, garlands and flowers were strewn in
their path, and many were the blessings pro-
nounced upon the ''bonne lasse." The nup-
tial ceremony was short, and as the party left
the altar, the little charity scholars, who were
decked in holiday attire, each bearing
wreath, sang a song of thanks to their kind
friend, and as she passed them in the aisle,
each laid their little offering at her feet.
Smiles mingled with tears as friends gathered
round to gain word or look from the bride,
which only increased her love for them and
rendered her departure the more painful
But the farewells were spoken, and blessings
granted from all, save the proud lord, who
paced his ancestral halls, mu;tering threats in
angry tones. A little package from Clara
Stewart came at the last moment, to be opened
at the new home.
All things were in readiness, and soon the
noble Ivan and his fair bride were upon the
broad ocean. Slowly but pleasantly did the
summer days and the moonlight nights pass.
During the silent watch would they gaze upon
the dark blue beneath and above, gemmed
with stars alike, and repeat the words of the
psalmist, go that man would praise the Lord
for his goodness and for his wonderful works
to the children of men,"
At last the cry OF "land!" came joyfully,
and again they saw green fields and villages
in the distanCe-the Atalantis of their hopes.
few weeks found them settled in genteel
quiet home, and Ivan was engaged in large
importing house. As years passed the dream
of life seemed to be realized The small
property of Margaret, with legacy from
distant relative to Ivan, enabled him to enter
the firm as partner, and ENJOY life free from
anXieties. Both were retiring and domestic
in character, and home was blessed retreat
for them. The hour for release from bust
ness was hailed gladly by Ivan, for well he
knew sunny faces were watching for the sound
of his footsteps, and with the true devotion of
a parent, he longed to clasp little Ivan and
Nellie in his arms and receive the nightly well
come from their rosy lips.
In their days of prosperity Margaret forgot
not her dear native land and childhoods
friend. and missives of affection often found
their way to friends of "Auld Lang Syne."
Often did she gaze upon the fair face Of Clara
Stuart, which she found enclosed in golden
case in the little sealed package, and, i'm
printing a kiss, wish they might meet again.
prariOuS tn her memory were the teachings