The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1870-08-13

be drank deeper-his parent was forgotten
-he took the bounty-he was sworn IN
and while the fumes Of the liquor yet RACED
in bis brain, maddsning him on and drown,
ing reflection, be was next day embarked
for Chatham. The vessel bad not sailed
twenty yards from the quay-WIlle ana
bis companions were waving their bats, ana
giving three cheers as they pulled oH-wheu
two women rushed along the quay. The
elder stretched out her arms to the vessel
she cried wildly, "Gie me back my BARN
Willie Willie Forbesp' He heard her
screams above the huzza Of the recruits
be knew bis mothers voice-he saw his
Menie's disbevelled hair /; the poisonous
drink died within him-his hat dropped
from his hand-be sprang upon the side Of
the vesseEhe was about to plunge into the
river, when be was seized by the soldiers
and dragged below. A Shrek rang from
bis mother and from Menie those who
stood around them tried TO comfort and pity
them and, by all but themselves, in . few
days the circumstance was forgotten.
"Who will provide for me now, when
my Willie is game 7" mourned the discon-
solate widow, when the FIRST days OF her
grief bad passed. 81 will. answered Me
ME Morrison "and you. bone shall be
my home, and my bread your bread, and
the Husband O. the widow, and the Father
O. the orphan, will bring our Willie back
again" The old woman pressed her to
her breast, and called Der her mair than
daughter" They left the fa-"N-stead. and
rented q very small cottage at some miles
distance, and there, to provide for her adopt
ed mother, Menie kept two cows; and, in
the neighboring markets, her butter was
first sold, and her poultry brought the best
price. But she toiled in the harvest field
she sewed, she knitted, she span-she was
the laundress Of the gentry IN the neigh
borhood-she was beloved Of all, and moth
ing came wrong to bonny Meuie Morrison.
Four years had passed, and they had twice
heard from Willie, who had obtained the
rank of sergeant. But the fifth year bad
begun, and, from family in the neighbor-
hood, Msnis had received several newspa-
pens, that, as she said, she might read to
her mother what was gaun on at the wars "
Size was reading an account Of one-of the
first victories Of Wellington in the east,
and she passed on to what was entitled 9
GALLANT EXPLOIT. Her voice suddenly
paper shook in her hands.
"What is't-oh what is't, Menie p cried
the old woman; ''is't onythlng aboot VIII
lie My BARNS no dead y Menie could
not reply; she pressed her hands before her
eyes and wept aloud. ''My son my son !"
exclaimed the wTetched widow--"oh 10 my
bairn dead ?" The paragraph which had
filed Menie with anguish, stated that dar-
ing assault had been led on BY Sergeant
Forbes Of the 2lst, after bis superiors bad
fallen; but that he also fell nsortaiy
vomsded in the moment Of victory. Twill
not attempt to paint their sorrow. Menie
put on the garments Of widowhood for Will.
lie, and she mourned for him not only many
but every day. He had fallen in the arms
Of glory, yet she accused herself as bis
murderer.
Five years more had passed. Il was
March but the snow lay upon the ground,
and the face Of the roads was as glass. "A
stranger gentleman had been thrown from
bis horse in the neighborhood Of the widows
cottage. His life had been endangered BY
the fall, and be was conveyed be- 7ath her
lowly roof, where he remained fo weeks,
unable to be removed. He was about ffty
or sixty years of age, and his dress and ap-
pearance indicated the military officer. Me
ME was his nurse and if her beauty and
kindness did not inspire the soul Of the vet
eran with love, they moved il with sympa-
thy. He wished to make her o return, and,
at length, resolved that that return should
be an offer of his hand. He knew he was
in bis "sere and yellow leaf" and his face
was marked with wounds but for those
wounds be had pension; he bad bis half
pay as Major, and three thousand pounds in
the funds He would show his gratitude
by rendering bis band and fortune to the
village maiden. He made known bis pro-
posal to the old woman-maternal feeling
suggested her first reply: She was to be
my Willie's wife," said she, ruefully, and
wiped away a tear; ''she was to be my
daughter-and she is my daughter | Gamma
part with my Menie." But prudence at
length prevailed, and she added: "But why
should she be buried for me 7 No, sir, l
Wilma wrang her; ye are owre kind-yet
she deserves it a, an / will advise her as
though she had been my ain BARN" But
Menie refused to listen to them.
When the sun began to grow warm in
the heavens, a chair was broug BIT to the
door for the invalid, and Menie and her
mother would sit spinning BY bis side, while
be would recount bis battles, sieges, for
tunes" And thus, in an evening in May,
as the sun was descending or the hills, ran
his story Fifty Of US were made prison
ers. We were chained man to man, and
cast into dark marrow, and damp dungeon.
Our only food was scanty handful Of rice,
and cup Of water once in twenty -four
hours. Death, in mercy, thinned our num-
bers. A worse than plague ragged amongst
us-our dead comrades lay amongst our
feet The living lay chained to q corpse.
All died but myself and my companion to
whom was fettered. He cheered me in
fever and sickness. He took the water
from his parcted lips and held it to mine.
And, maiden, have been interested in " u
for bis sake; for in his sleep he would
start, and mention the name Of Menie !"
"Oh, sir !" interrupted Menie and the
old woman at once, "what-what was his
name p
''If the world were mine, / would give il
to know" replied the Major, and cOutin-
ued: He succeeded in breaking our fet-
ters. We were left unguarded. Let us
fy,' said he; but l was unable to follow
him. He took me upon his shoulders. Il
was midnight. He bore me to the woods.
For five days be carried me along, or sup
ported me on bis arm, till we were within
sight Of the British lines. There q party
Of native horsemen came upon Ms My de-
liverer, with no weapon but branch which