The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1877-07-14
OUR DAVE.

Outside there was heavy, threatening
November sky, from which the lurid sun
set had died utterly, leaving no light
save the faint glimmer that came from
the glittering covering of snow that lay
an inch deep everywhere.
Later on, when a clear moon shone out
over the desolate landscape, it made al
most pretty picture of Braer Castle,
with its background of leafess trees and
cloudy sky; but not such pretty picture
as the one you could have seen through
the unsheltered windows of the quaint
old hall, if the windows had not been
too high to be reached from the outside
This great hall, with its five feet of
oak wainscoting and heavy, stone-mull-
Toned windows, was the only really old
part Of the castle; and, large as it was,
1t could look very cozy when seen, as on
this winter evening, with a bright fire
roaring up the great chimney, and soft
lamps throwing subdued light into the
most desolate corners
Sir David Dewar, the bachelor owner
of this fine old place, liked light and
comfort and plenty of room to move
about in; and, as it was nobody's place
to interfere with his little whims, he
generally got what he wanted; so, sit
ting now well back in his great arm
chair, with his kindly face a little severe,
and his gray head bent in earnest
thought, he looked as though no wave of
trouble had ever touched his life.
There was another figure in the great
room, too, on which the brilliant light
seemed to have concentrated itself-the
figure of child-a boy who stood on the
white fur hearth-rug, with quaint, old
fashioned face raised somewhat stub
bornly, and thin, restless hands fidgeting
with the buttons of his coat. Little
Davie Dewar, one of Sir David's orphan
nephews, deserves a paragraph of de.
scription all to himself, if only for the
sake of his faCe-a beautiful face, that
artists raved about for its perfection of
form and coloring, but that mothers
looked at with an aching heart, reading
only too clearly the signs of delicacy in
the brilliant, dark-fringed eyes and flush
ing cheeks. Tonight, however, there
was something beyond excitement in the
shrinking form; and he looked so white
and wan and miserable that when Sir
David, who had been hardening his heart
and contemplating punishment, raised
his head suddenly, the sternness melted
out of his face, and he stretched out his
hand, saying: Come here, my dear "a
little nearer"
The boy started when he spoke, and
shrank back, just raising his piteous, I'M
childlike eyes, and then dropped them to
the rug at his feet.
"Come here" repeated Sir David a
little impatiently, for he hated to think
that he was hard upon the boys, and that
they were afraid of him.
The lad shuffled off the rug, half sulky,
half frightened, and came close to the
old mans chair, blinking his great eyes
in the light like young, half tanned owl,
and when Sir David said, very kindly;
- don't wish to be hard on you, my lad
but | will have the truth" he said, in a
low, sweet voice that trembled a little
with sheer fright and WEAKNESS: Yes,
Uncle David"
" only want to know about this boat
ing" said Uncle David, encouragingly.
Yes, in lower, sulkier voice.
Well, my dear, after all | have told
you, were you out on the river last
night?" There was pause. Uncle
David, with his quiet, kindly eyes on the
boys face, waited with real anxiety for
the reply; but David the younger made
no answer at all: he stood first on one
foot, then on the other, with such a
guilty, frightened look on his face that
the old mans heart ached " Well" he
said at last, sadly, tell me the truth,
Davie, my man, and I'll believe you"
No, )" said Davie, very low; and then
he threw himself, sort of tangled heap,
down on the floor at his uncles feet, and
sobbed out: {" No, no, no"
Uncle David was puzzled and dis
tressed. 81 promised to believe you,
Davie, he said, $50 | must, suppose;
but shouldn't like your mother to think
I'd brought you up to lie. don't quite
understand it, all the same. Hew would
have told, think"
"Oh, not HeU," said Davie, lifting a
flushed, tear-stained face, and speaking
eagerly; "Tm sure, oh, Pm quite sure,
Uncle David" But Uncle David siienced
him with a quick, warning touch, and
they both sat listening to the sound of
rapid, firm steps along the stone passage
to a merry whistle which came nearer
and nearer until it paused abruptly on
the threshold, in the middle of a bar -