National opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1865-1874, 1873-12-26

upon his fold was transferred like the
shifting light of II cosmoramic vision to
sweet Bessie McGrath. But what was
he to do? He knew not Of love or the
potent charms surrounding It's exist
ence. He only knew vision stood be-
fore him that governed the quick beat
ings of his heart and filled his soul with
unspeakable emotions. The hoodtide
of joy, Of happiness, rushed nadly be-
fore his vision, and his manhood was
securely moored beside the form that
enchanted him.
70 speak, to look, to do, was the
unison of souls, the happenings of des-
tiny, the entwinement of loves pure af-
fection, and then with the will that
governs human fate, with an earnestness
that controls all manly actions, did
Dundas Pyor lay his pure heart bare
ut the feet Of Bessie McGrath.
Not like the Queen controlling her
subjects, did she wave her wand, deny
ing an audience but with the rehec-
tion of Cupid's electricity was it blend
ed in the motion gold of Nature $
crucible, and the meridian attained.
Their marriage was not celebrated by
the ringing Of bells, long bridal trains,
and festivals upon the green, but at
the simple little "kh.;,' embowered
by holly and fern, did the good man
unto these two loving hearts, and send
them forth with Heavens blessings.
Quickly passed the years in noble
energy and virtuous seclusion. Happy
their hours by day, and peaceful their
slumbers by night. No knowledge of
the wicked world, no contamination by
ITS guilt; and when little Donald
was born to them with his CHEEKY smile,
their hearts leaped anew, and mingled
at the fountain of domestic bliss
would sit,upon his'good father knee and
play with the ribbons that adorned his
pipes, as lie blew the merry airs of his
native hills, with Bessie by his side, in
front of their little cabin, as the dying
day was casting its faint tints of golden
glory on the woodland and meadows
far beyond their home, the picture was
one f beauty and grandeur, and the
monarch that swayed the sceptre DER
their heads might envy them for their
peace of mind.
Bessie was not long to stay. Her
soul died out like the closing petals of
the early violet and when the strong
November wind moaned sadly around
the house of Dundas Pyor, Bessie's
spirit was waited far beyond the hills
she SO often had gazed upon and won
dered where it ended. Then with her
pale dead form was she laid in the little
kirk yard, where in early life she had
been so happy, and only knew of joys
her peaceful home; and
when the cold hard clay was emptied
on her grave, Dundas turned with weep
ing eyes to little Donald who gazed i'll
curiosity upon the strange
end folded him to his weep
ing breast Bessie was gone, the grave
had closed over her; ihe once happy
home was desolate, and Dundas left to
mourn. Little Donald grew with the
strength of childhood, grew in intellect
Tar beyond his years, grew with the |
sunlight that casts its shadows all |
around, and smoothed the sorrows of the |
parents heart. And when the spring. |
line came, with its budding flowers
md sweet perfumes, would father and !
son go to the lonely grave of the dear |
ltpdiltN liitl NcGp tIut SuC NuOIu Viz |
owed had been taken away.
Little Donald grew delicate, decline
'apldly followed, and before the dying
lays of another year had come to
lose he was laid beside his mother
Bessie. Then did Dundas Pyor give
up all hope, all energy, all love for life
md human happiness. His pipes were
,ever touched again, but hung, old and
oiled, upon tue wall of his little cot
age, and he so prematurely old, sat
or days and mourned like a child,
Watching for Bessie and little Donald,
why they did not return,
With the anxiety of one lost in vision of
lream land.
Yes, Dundas Pyor is old, and lame,
md gray, his cottage is deserted by all
,ut himself and the wild birds that fit
md chirp near his heart, and there he
its with eyes bedimmed, his long,
nowy tresses playing with the wind,
ooking for the time when his loved
mes shall come back to make his home
lappy once again.
In going to "Athole heath with
run and dog, passed by his lonely
,lace The flowers had all died out,
he little gate that enclosed his grounds
vas broken and the bench, once paint
d green, was weather stained, but
9 old Dundas sat in front not know
ng, and seemingly not to care who
assed him by; with kilt all worn and
his long sinewy arms bare,
is form bent as one in deep medita-
ion, a picture of misery and forlorn
ope. But soon the death angel will
isit this lonely spot and watt away the
pirit of the honest highlander, the
nee proud Dundas Pyor.