Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-09-21

From Appletons Journal1
The following momentous events, which
an inordinate love for the contemplation OF
the sublime-ridculou induces me to re-
late. occurred in a remote district of the
northern Highlands of Scotland called
Bedenoch. The inhabitants of this coun-
try are Gaelic-speaking Celts, and, though
extremely superstltlous, they are IL hardy
intelligent, and hosi liable race. At one
time. before the introduction OF the uigh-
land railway, the district was pretty thick
~ peopled by IA few scores OF llugal "crot-
ters. or small farmers who cultivated the
same wretched patches OF land from gen
Grafton generation, raising scanty crops
OF oats, barley, and potatoes. rearing their
own sparse stock of diminutive sheep and
poultry, never rich, but never in absolute
want the men clad in rough killed home
spun and corduroys, the women in coarse
"wlnseys" and cheap cotton; attending
the same dreary. old fashioned kirk Sun
day after Sunday, with Der Sabbath
countenances, to hear the same denuncia-
tions OF "lery wrath and Judgment" and
to listen to the deineation of Eternal
Love. letter from a relative in some
distant land, or the quiet observance of
their festivals of Halloween, Christmas
Cor NoIic,) and the yearly sacrament
when great lights" from more enlight-
ened regions came to intuse something of
novelty into their customary spiritual fare,
or, at long intervals, funeral, the OBJ
servance OF which often resulted in some
thing more potent than tears and cold
water-these were the only incidents in
the quiet tenor of their lives. A marriage
was as nothing; the usual ceremony over,
the small company betook themselves to a
barn or other Outhouse, and there--occa-
sionally refreshing themselves with oat-
cake. cheese, and whiskey-they INDUCED
in the inevitable "IIighland Fling, Scotch
real, and Tollochgorum. the bride and
bridegroom taking their parts in the vio-
lent performances. until the "wee sma
hours ayont the twal," when they all qui-
etly betook themselves to their respective
homes, and next morning the new tMrs.
Donald sank quietly into the routine of
household work, as if she had been mar
rled for twenty years.
In certain deep valley of the Gram
plans, where are mingled in sweet and
wild confusion stream and forest, leafy
dell and woody eminence, the haunts of
the wild-deer, the hare and the wood
cock, there is a solitary "loch." or lake,
of three miles in circumference This
lock is nearly oval in shape, and surround
ed on all sides but one by lofty hills. here
and there dotted by patches of brown
heather and clumps OF stunted birch, in
which the whlrr of the coveted moor-fowl,
and the beating of hundreds OF the small
mountain sheep, are the only sounds that
break the universal stiffness. Toward the
south the mountains diverge, atfordiug an
outlet for the mOuntainstream, which, af-
ter rushing down the rocky crevices. flows
TRANQUILITY through the lake, bearing with
it the young salmon and trout into IA noisy
tumbling river, the swiitest in all Scot
land. In this direction the prospect is
surprisingly diversified and beautiful, af-
| fordng, AS many scenes in Scotland do,
all the elements of a wild aud beautiful
landscape within a very limited boundary
Sheer preciplces, crowned by miraculous
woodland, overhanging the stormy tor
rent; here, sharply -cut valley with irib-
utary stream, bordered by greensh ver-
dure there, a bare hill destitute of tree or
shrub-but its sides flashing all the colors
OF the rainbow-and, beyond all, the love
ly woodland gladcs OF the Laird OF Rs
estate. yield satisfaction to eye and heart.
Into the lake-the scene of the narra-
tive-just small and fertile pennsular,
elevated and widening toward the extrem-
ity, and thus forming pleasant table-land
OF several acres IN extent, the sides gen
lly sloping to the lake, and terminating
in "A circle of thick brushwood, birch. will
low, and broom. On this table-land are
situated the parish church. churchyard,
and minister's manse and out-houses,
while on the narrow neck which joins it
to the mainland, and through which runs
well-kept road, stands the countryside
smithy, kept by honest Lewis Cameron,
the best husband and the surest shot in the
parish. His son, Alec, is between thir-
teen and fourteen years OF age, tall and
strapping, and daily accompanies the min
lster's son in "a three-mile walk over des-
olate moor to the parish school. Alec is
1.-THE of body, with red hair, earnest gray
eyes, and rather slouchy gait. His com
rade, !Quentin, is somewhat older and
shorter, dark, and inclined to enbOapoiR,
and impulsye in gesture and bearing
Both are IN the same class at school both
are what are called good lads" loving
their mothers, obeying their fathers, and
well up in Shorter Catechism. Quentin
is unsteady and erratic in disposition.
though true at bottom Alec has more per-
| SCNclahScf anu, VI tOuIse. IHDIc Iulb-
thought. In any unselfish, heroic course
OF action, we should not be wrong in at
tributing the inception to Quentin; for a
safe and satisfactory consummation we
should be more ready TO rely on Alec.
Now those youths loved each other
truly; they read the same romances sur
repttiously; they assisted each other in
difficulty, and they were the acknowledge
ed leaders in classroom as well as play
ground. Everything went on smoothly.
the years dealt tenderly with them, and
promised fairly for them, when one wet
summer aiternoon-O dies iRfelir 1.-The
country carrier approached the Kitchen
door OF the manse, bearing under his arm
a heavy square box, labeled in a scrawl-
ing hand, 10 Master Quentin Mckenzie,
with best love from Aunt Doshe." Ga
opening the box and inspecting the con-
tents they proved to be about three dozen
of well-thumbed and brilliant covered
novels and romances, sent to him by an
aunt more noted for her devotion to light
literature than for her motherly discretion.