The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1878-04-27
Original STORY.
UNDER THE SUNRISE.
A--NeRFHERN FBYL OF EAsTER-TIDE.
Written for the Democratic Adrooate
BY EMMA ALICE BROWNE.

BY EMMA ALICE BROWNE.
With a shrill voice of lamentation, an
arctic gale swept down from the icy defiles
of the ghostly Morse hill-ranges. The pale
pinnacles of '0din's Schloss" glittered in
the vague gloom like battlements of beaten
silver. The black waters of the ford,
curdling under the wintry sky, were
streaked with angry foam. The wan
shadow of the polar twilight wrapt the de-
sOlate land and sea, and the gray van of a
gathering snow-storm hung vast and me-
nacing in the spectral North
The season of Lent was drawing to q
close. With the first faint beams of the
arctic sunrise, the simple dwellers of the
frozen fords and fells would welcome the
dawn of Easter-tide-the Hyperborean
Festival of Thanksgiving for the resurrec-
ton of Nature from her long dark winter
sleep. Warmed by his genial rays, the
dormant life, locked in those desolate wales
and frigid hills, came forth rejoicing in the
quick unfolding of tender leaf and flower;
even SO the soul, after her weary penancc
commemorative of His passion and death,
puts on her garments of gladness, exulting
in the triumph of her newly-risen Lord
But still the long night fingered, and
in the humble cottage of Jan Olsen there
were murmurs of forebodings, as the slow
hours of wintry gloom wore on. The care
fully boarded stores of smoked flesh and
frozen fish seemed to melt miraeulously
away. The great heap of pine-cones, and
tiny faggots of fragrant fir, dwindled hour
by hour; the black, compact balls of moor
moss, kneaded with fat of the sea-cow, that
served as fuel for the rude carthen 'uffa"
or "hearth- stone" smouldered and sput-
tered, and resolved themselves into sitting
smoke, with a celebrity that savored of
magic The huge, misshapen jars, from
which the antique hanging lamp of copper
was fed, were almost empty, and it was
bitterly cold Long hours of deadly frost
and semi-darkness might intervene, ere the
first faint glimmer of the Scandinavian
spring
The tender heart of Ola Olsen grew
heavier hourly. The dear house-mother's
steps were slow and feeble-alas Ola
knew full well, from secret fasting-that
the children might not be stinted The
kind blue eyes were dull with sleepless
care; the shadow of anxious thoughts dark
ened the worn sweet face.
Tears gathered in Ola's soft eyes as she
furtively watched the good mother hush
ing her fretful babe at her patient breast.
The rude Norwegian cradle song she
crooned to it was sad with the monotone
of tears; oh if the morning would but
break If Father Jan were but here
Ola replenished the smouldering embers
with resinous twigs and pine cones, that
speedily sent up jets of merry cracking
fame, and filed the low walled living-room
with balsamic fragrances Then the little
Norse-maiden lifted the smoke-tanned
screen of wolf-skin that curtained the one
rude window looking southward-aud
scanned with eager gaze the white alti-
tudes of Odin-Schloss, whose crowni1g
pinnacle pierced the eternal solitudes Of
icy space, and was even first to catch the
rosy glimmer that heralded the morning
and the spring.
But the towering snow peak, guarding
in silence the everlasting secrets of the
ice-locked seas beyond its savage fastness,
glowed dim and forbidding in the pallid
gloom. And Ola turned with shivering
sigh to busy herself with preparations for
the scanty meal.
"No signs of sun-dawn, daughter Ola ?'
questioned the pale mother, rocking the
restless little one in her tired arms.
"No sign, my mother'' Ola answered
sorrowfully, as with deft care she mixed
the frugal cake of "ash brod" and set it
to bake before the ruddy glowing embers.
Then she brought out the snowy milking
pail, took down the quaint horn lanthorn,
aud went forth to the rude shelter, thatch-
ed with spicy fr-boughs, to care for her
faithful mich. goats-Shora and Freyda
Beyond the cottage threshold Ola stag
gered for moment, caught in the blind
ing white vortex of sudden snow-gust,
and buffetted by the shrill winds with
cruel stinging blows With an angry
clutch the shrieking gale tore at her cum
bersome wrappings of seal skin, and whirl
ed the CHASTITY drifts around her in a wild
and giddy dance-catching the breath from
her gasping lips, aud binding her for one
bewildered moment.
Already 0din's Schloss, the solitary,
had drawn the impenetrable mantle of the
tempest about his inscrutable face, and the
dull twilight world was a world of spectral
shadows
But Ola fought her way bravely through
the dizzy drifts-calling cheerily to her
goats, whose faint bleating guided her
safely to their snug retreat. Keen and
sharp as needle points the Kissing snow
sifted through crevice and Granny, and lay
in grotesque swaths along the earthen floor.
The pretty bright eyed kids blcated from
their beds of moss in a sheltered nook; the
fowls few cackling from their perch be-
meath the thatch, and crowded about the
maiden with noisey welcome; the goats
thrust their velvety noses into her cold
little palms, in search of the bits of barley
cake waerewith she was wont to regale
them at milking-time
She shared with each fragment of her
own slender portion, and while they nib
bled the dainty fare she MIXED them
chanting with fresh young voice some
ancient Scandinavian hearth song, full of
the gusty, sonOrous music of the winds
among her native pines
But soon the quantity fashioned bucket
was brimmed with frothing nectar; the
fowls, appeased with scattered grain, cluck-
ed coutentedlyi the truss of provender for
the goats was carefully heaped against the
earthen wall
But Ola fingered, still busted with cares
for her gentle pensioners. Her high peak