The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1875-07-23
THE BROKEN PRIMROSES.
A Highland story.

appearance OF the IaVOrlte was nalle0,
and its opening watched as its delicate
buds peeped from amongst the thick
green leaves under the shade of briar
bush, or around the roots of a wide
branching ash tree, or on the tiny shelves
of the hOary rock?
To see even bunch of artificial prlm-
roses on pretty young lady's bonnet
seem to me to give touch OF poetry to
the wearer whilst to see them worn by
a matron about to enter into the sere
and yellow leaf period looks like the
ripe months of September or October
wearing the livery of spring. They
seem more in keeping even on the sill
very locks of old age; for an early
primrose may blossom on the brown OF
winter. But our story.
The laird of a certain Highland
estate, which we call Achaneilean, was
early left fatherless, but was carefully
trained by a very wise, although q
dOting mother. Sir Evan was a fine,
high-spirited young man, who gave her
the,very highest satisfaction in all things,
excepting in the wandering habits he
had early formed. He would often
dress himself In the strangest disguises
and mingle with his tenants, taking a
times. His mother, knowing his high
and honorable nature, was never afraid
of his doing anything wrong, at such
times. but she thought his conduct I'M
dignified so, as she could not win him
from his strange habit, she tried to in
fluenee him to get married. With this
object in view she gathered around her,
both in London and at home, all the
young ladies she most admired but
her efforts seemed in vain. Sir Evan
was courteous and attentive to all her
guests, but be Yves still fancy free and
she loved him too tenderly TO wish to
see him married without a sincere at
tachment. She knew the requirements
of his nature, and understood, therefor,
that a lOveless marriage would only drive
him farther into the wandering habits
from which she wished him weaned.
When Sir Evan was in his twenty
fifth year, he went to a distant part of
his estate, which he had never visited
before and, hearing there was to be a
wedding, he went to it in disguise as a
minstrel. He wore tattered old tar
tan coat, and carried his fiddle over his
shoulder in a green baize bag, whilst his
fair skin was stained to appear like a
gipsy's.
l. was toward the latter end of spring
a clear, beautiful afternoOn-and by
the riverside the young people were
gayly dancing, whilst an old white
haired man, with palsied hand, was try
ing his best to give them music.
The young man drew near and bow
ing to the company, he drew his old
bonnet over his brow, and began to
play.
The dancers were delighted, for they
had never listened to such strains be-
fore; and the old fiddler, trembling
for fear of losing the reward he expect
ed, went to the young minstrel in the
first pause of the music, and proposed
that whatever was paid to either of
them would be equally divided with the
other. The young man laughlngly as
scented, and when the best man came to
offer him a glass of something to drink,
he refused it; but said, as it was getting
cold, if the old man would play them a
spring, he would be glad to be allowed
to dance a reel.
Permission was at once given, and
the minstrel asked for his partner a
pretty gray.eyed, modest looking maid
en-, whose graceful movements he had
watched in the dance. She readily
was seldom seen by those present.
When he led her back to her friends,
he offered her a few primrOses from a
small bouquet he had gathered by the
river side, and turning to another fair
girl, he offered her the remainder of the
flowers, and begged her hand for the
next dance. She tossed her head indig
nantly, and her looks said plainly, ado
you think ] would dance with Gypsy ?"
She had taken the flowers out of his
hand, but she broke them, and cast
them away, saying suddenly, 81 don't
care for flowers, and I'm not going to
dance with you, thank you"
The young man turned away hastily,
and the maiden who had danced with
him said to her companion, "HOw
could you wound the young mans feel,
ings so? What harm could it do Won
to dance with him And oh the dear
primrOses the first | have seen this
year see, you have broken them ;" and
Ellen bowed down and gathered the
scattered flowers, and carefully placing
them among those given herself, fixed
them in her belt.
Glow could you rather dance with a
fellow like that-likely one of the gang
of thinkers that passed yesterday? And
will Won really wear the flowers he
gave? ?" replied the maiden with a scorn-
full sneer.
81 wear the flowers fer their own
sakes. How could you break them-the
beauties ?" replied Ellen, caressing the
bouquet with n tender touch :" as for
dancing with the young man, / am sure
am quite ready to do so again were it
only for his delightful music"
Margaret drew herself away in digni-
tied silence. She was quite Mortified at
the conduct OF Ellen and the young
man, who was lowering near, and watch
ing the maidens, again offered his hand
to Ellen and, anxious to heal the
wound her companion had given, she
danced with him gladly. He saw she
was enraptured with his music, and he
was delighted when, at the close of the
festival, she asked him to proceed to
her fathers house, where she wished to
hear again his sweet strains. She had
an old pianO-not very good one, but
nevertheless one that gave her pleasure:
and she wished to try some of the tunes
he had played to the dancers. EIlen's
sisters were very much afraid she had
compromised the family dignity by
dancing with this stroller and they
grumhled about her asking him to their
home SO late in the evening. He went.
however; and after Ellen and himself
had discoursed music for a considerable
length of time, to the delight of the old
folks, who we're rather proud of Ellen
musical taste, he rose to leave.
They offered him a bed in the barn.
but he said he had 70 be miles away
before daylight so Ellen gave him a
piece of money and stuffed his pockets
with bread and beef and large piece of
cheese, at the same time begging of
him If he ever came that way again to
give them the pleasure of listening to
his mlnstrelsy.
Sir Evan returned to his own castle.
but he could not Danish the image of
the gentle Ellen from his heart When
he slept or woke he always saw her as
she stood fixing the broken primroses
in her belt-lOoking so sweet aud pretty
in ner white dress and blue ribbons, and
her ripping brown hair tossed both bv
the evening breeze and by the dancing
and at length, when her mother renew
ed her attacks upon him about getting
married, he told her of the maiden ne
had learned to love so well.