Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1874-03-12

tatlOn; then, as the fire blaZed up and
disclosed the fair curly head and the
merry blue eyes she remembered so well,
she said with fearful eyes and trembling
voice: "Can this be you, Archie Bry-
dones Glad am to see We back again.
But what start we gied me, for mony's
the time I've wondered if We were alive"
"Alive and hearty" replied Archie,
with rather forced laugh, to hide the
emotion he really felt when he saw how
agitated she was "But the truth is,
wearied o. the Highlands; it's a dull
thing being ones lane in, house for
months. and thought / would try the
Low Country again"
Archie was surprised to find as time
passed on and he and Kirstie dropped
into their old friendly terms how little
changed she was in mind from what she
used to be; the same simple, guileless
creature, strong as rock for truth and
right, and thoroughly unselfish.
Mr.. and Mrs. Gray were so much
attached to her that they looked on her
almost as child Of the house, and yet
she was so unconscious of any special
favor that she quite avoided all jealousy
on the part of her fellow servants. Archie
stayed steadily on the Auchensack, and
became almost as much a part of the
household as Kirstie; the other servants
went and came, but these two remained
fixtures.
When Archie had been three years with
Mr.. Gray, the shepherd at Dynefoot left
to take q small farm, and Mr.. Gray offered
it to Archie, adding, with a SLY glance,
that he would have to look out for a wife
in that case. Archie thanked him, and
asked for q few days to think of it, which
Mr.. Gray willingly granted. That was
on Saturday; and on the afternoon of
the Sunday, which was bright Septem-
Der day, Archie asked Kirstie if she would
take walk with him to the rowan-tree
and there, at the place where they first
met, and where they had played and
worked as children, he asked her if she
would be his lifelong companion. No
one can doubt what Kirstie's answer was !;
he had been the one love of her childhood
and of her later years, and the sun never
shone upon a prouder, happier bride.
1t was an additional source of happi-
ness, too, the fact that they were to live in
her old home, though many one would
have thought it a solitary place enough.
1t was three miles from Auchensack, and
about as far from the nearest shepherds
house, and was away quite up among the
hills, commanding splendid view of
one of the loveliest of the lovely DUN
friesshire valleys. 1t was roomy, COM
Portable cottage, whitewashed, with a
matched roof, nice garden in front, and
two elm trees at one side. Inside it was
the picture Of comfort; the kitchen es-
pecially, with its sanded floor clean as
hands could make it; the dresser gay
with willow-pattern plates and many-col-
ored bowls and "pigs;" the long settle by
the fire; and the antique clock, which
had belonged to Kirstie's grandfather.
1t stood about hundred yards from the
mouth of the deep, dark, precipitous glen
which took its name from the Dyne, a
little burn which brawled along at the foot.
Archie entered on his duties at Martin
mas, and they were married at the Hog
msnay following, at Auchensack, when
there was dance in the barn and general
merry making. And so time had slipped
away, every season seeming happier than
the last, Kirstie thought, and happiest OF
all the dark days of winter since little
blossom came upon November day and
filled their cup of happiness to overflow
ing. 1t was lovely, fair little infant,
with Archie's blue eyes and fiaxen hair |;
and he was, if possible, more passion
ately fond of it than Kirstie herself.
Kirstie thought Of her happy lot with a
deep, unutterable thankfulness as she sat
absently rocking the cradle. She was one
of those women who have great difficulty
of utterance; whose words are few but
their thoughts many; and, above all, her
religion was truly part of herself and OF
her daily life. The sun had now set, and
darkness was coming on, while the wind
whistled more shrilly than ever, and with
an eerie sound which made her shudder.
She was becoming really anxious about
Archie's long-continued absence. He had
left home in the morning with the first
peep of daylight to climb the hill, accord
ing to his custom, and intended to come
home, as he usually did, about eleven.
She tried, meanwhile, to calm her
anxiety by thinking that something might
have happened to one of the sheep, or
that he might have been detained gather
ing them into the folds in preparation for
an approaching storm. At length she
heard the dog scratching at the door; and
oyfully said she to herself: He Gamma
be far off noo;" but on opening the door,
the dog, instead of running joyfully to
the Are or curling himself up beneath
one of the beds as he usually did. began
to Jump faw ningly upon her and to whine
pitifully; she could not understand the
reason of this at all, when suddenly an
idea burst upon her mind which speedily
became certainty. Archie was Ill, had
hurt himself, perhaps, somewhere on the
hills, and the dog had come for help. She
shook off deadly faintness which crept
over her at the thought; and, rousing her.
self. she drew the fire together in case OF
sparks, placed the cradle on one of the
beds for safety, and throwing a plaid
about her followed the dog.
During these preparations "Laddie"
had stood still and motionless as statue;
but when she moved toward the door ne
Jumped with delight, fawned upon her,
and licked her hands, and then bounded
hastily forward in the direction of the
glen. The ordinary route along Glen
Dyne was 70 climb the steep hill which
rose behind Dvnefoot, and then TO keed
by a footpath which wound along the top
OF the glen for about mile. There was
no fence or protection whatever; and
there were several sad stories told OF peo-
pie Cyho had missed their footing, or, in
the darkness, had wandered tooi near the
edge, and so had come TO violent end.
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