Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1875-07-07
excuse her, Sir Evan, said the mother

gravely.
"Show me where to find her then,
and I will go to her," said Sir Evan,
with strange culver of lip and voice.
The mother was about to call the
daughter, when one of the boys, hastily
opening the door, pointed to the room
where Ellen v-as busily taking off the
butter from the churn. Shewas arrayed
in plain gray linen dress, clean and
neat, and the curls that had hung SO
prettily about her neck and face at the
wedding, were fastened back with
piece of bright blue ribbon; but the
dropping, tall, lily like figure and the
modest grey eyes were the same, and
the expression that he thought so an
gelic when she gathered the broken
primroses was still the same also; in
deed, as he gazed upon her, he thought
her more beautiful than ever. She
looked bewildered at the fair face of the
young man, and he took her hand, say
ing: 81 have accepted your invitation,
Ellen. You see [ have retired, though
in good sooth your eyes would speak a
tattered coat and my fiddle"
Ellen stood speeches. in astonish-
ment, for she saw, indeed, he was no
other than the strolling musician, for
that hazel eye had left tender regret
in Ellen's heart for which she had often
child herself; and as it flashed across
her mind who he was, and how he had
stuffed his pocket with bread and beef,
she fell on her knees. crying, "Forgive
me, sir; oh, forgive me; I knew not,
indeed, you were any other than what
you seemed.
Forgive you, Ellen ! Yes, my fair
girl, you have more need OF forgiveness
than you think, for you have stolen my
peace of mind away. Will you restore
it to me? Will you be my partner now
agaizl---for all my life long? He raised
her from the floor as he spoke, and drew
her tenderly towards him, and she laid
her face upon his bosom and wept tears
Of the purest Joy and giadness, as,
amidst his caresses, she promised to pc
his through life. Ere he led her back
to get a blessing from her parents, he
took from his bosom bouquet OF the
latest primroses of the year, and fixed
them on her breast, Whispering, "These
flowers must always be sacred to us, for
it was when you were gathering those Of
mine, so rudely broken and scattered
by an ungentle hand, that my soul wen
out to you in the fullness of its first
affection
So Ellen became the wife of Sir
Evan; and through life proved herself
true wife, a loving mother, and a
benefactress to the poor and lowly. Sir
'c, no, loI IN
greet her having given her sanction to
the marriage, for she became very
proud of her lovely daughter-in-law,
whose charming character was daily as
tonishing her more and more. They
are old now, and the elder lady has
passed away; and the young generation
are grown up to manly sons and beauti-
full daughters, being loved, and wooed,
and won in their turn, but none of them
are happier with their lovers than Ellen
is with Sir Evan; and in the spring he
never appears3 before her without a
primrose, which she places in her belt
as she nae done long ago to those he
had first given her. The family all
knew the story; and they have heard
how chargrined the naughty Margaret
was when she learned who she had re-
fused TO dance with at the wedding by
the riverside, and whose flowers she
had broken SO rudely and cast to the
winds; and the most valued painting in
the castle is the fair Ellen in her white
dress and blue ribbons, and sunny rip
ping, golden brown hair, with tender
look, half-glad, half-regretful, gather
ing into her bouquet the broken
primroses, and hazel-eyed, handsome
gypsy gazing at her with passionate adj
miration.