River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1878-12-26
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.
A Couple of Strange Instances.


j One winter evening, about fifty years
ago, post chaise. with a single gentle
man inside it, drove up to the little inn
on the Pentland Firth, in the north Of
Scotland, where passengers who were go
ing to cross to the Orkneys usually spent
the night. The gentleman, whom We
will call Mr.. Mac T., was the owner of Q
large estate, and an old house which had
belonged TO his family for hundreds Of
years, in the Mainland, or chief of the
Orkney Islands, and was now about te
visit his property. It was a clustering
stormy night bat that only made more
pleasant the cigar and the glass of whis-
key, and the cracking wood fire by
which Mac L. sat chatting with the land.
lord, who WIS an old friend both of his
father and himself, and who was
proud of entertaining the ''young laird, !
as he called him, with his widest tales OF
adventure on the sea. They did not, how
ever, sit late, for the Orkney packet sailed
very early in the morning, and Mac T
soon found himself in his cosy, well-ap-
pointed little bedroom. The wind was
chanting grand Berserker melody, and
the sea was roaring deep bass &C
compartment. Mac I. loved those sounds
for they had often been the lullaby oil
bis childhood, and soon fell asleep.
For some hours he slept without an
image or thought reaching his mind
but at length, when the morning was
gllmmering gray in the east, strange
dream came to trouble him. He dreamt
that he was in the ancient banqueting-
hall of his old house in the Mainland, sit
ting at the head of very long table. The
banqueting- was now in reality al
most a ruin, but in his dream Mac T.
saw it hung with tapestry and blazing
with hundred lights. The table was
well filled on both sides, and he thought
he glanced curiously down its length TO
see who his guests were. AS he looked
he shuddered in his dream. Those who
sat at table with him were all dead an
cestors for many generations back. He
knew their faces and dresses well from
their portraits ia the picture gallery.
Next to him sat his own father, who had
died about a year before. And at the
bottom of the table sat fair-h haired man
in dress of skins, who was a Morse chief
tain, the founder of the family. 1t SEEM
ed to him that he sat for some minutes as
if spell-bound, while the spectres muir
INJURED together in low, hollow tones. At
length they all rose, and slowly, one by
| one, in turn, lett the hall. But before
they went, each one paused at the door,
and turning, raised his hand in a warn
ing attitude, fixed his eyes on Mac t.,
and said, in deep voice, the word "Be-
ware ~
"The packet starts in twenty minutes
sir" cried loud voice at the door, rous-
ing Mac T. suddenly from sleep. Con-
fused at first, yet soon remembering
where he was, he sprang out of bed and
began hurriedly to dress himself. Being
bad sailor, his first glance was natural
ly enough at the sea, close to which the
inn stood. The wind had risen in the
night. The waves Numbered on the
shore, ana the little Orkney packet was
tossed up and down like limpet she'll.
AS he gazsd, his strange dream rose up
with sudden distinctness before Mac rs
mind. He was infected with good deal
of thorough Scotch superstition. Besides,
he did not much like the looks of the sea-
and so he resolved not to go till to NOR
row. That Gay the Orkney packet was
and his little wife, who was left at home
with the babies, had to thank that warn
ing dream tor his life.
The other instance we have to tell is
quite as singular. Many years ago the
Rev Mr.. n. held small living in the
widest part of West Somerset. The par
ish church stood on bleak hillside, and
Mr.. N, who was bachelor, lodged in
the farmhouse close to it. Among his
small flock there was no one in whom the
clergyman took more interest than in
Mary the pretty daughter of the farmer, his
landlord. When Mary was about TWEEN
ty, Mr.. N. was much troubled by finding
that she had formed an attachment with
Jack Townsend, the cleverest workman
and the most worthless fellow on the
farm.
One autumn night the clergyman
dreamed that Mary stood at his bedside,
and cried out in an imploring voice,
Come out on to the hillsidep The i'm
preston left on his mind on waking was
so distinct that, if he had not known the
door was locked so that no one could en-
ter the room, he would have thought
Mary must in reality have been there.
Feeling, however, sure that it was only
a dream, he composed himself once more
to sleep. But scarcely had he closed his
eyes when Mary was again there, calling
to him to come out ON to the hillside
Seven several times he tried to sleep, and
seven times the phantom came back, al
ways with the same cry.
At length, mastered by an almost ire
sistible impulse, he rose, dressed himself,
and went out on the hill. He walked
some distance, but could see nothing ex-
ccpt the heather bells waving in the
moonlight; could hear nothing but dis
tant sheep-bell tinkling softly, and the
stream warbling below in the vslley.
4e was just going back, when suddenly
shrilI cry reached him, seeming to
come from neighboring combe. Hurry
ing in that direction, he saw at the bot
tom of the combe two figures, those of a
man and woman, apparently struggling
with each other. AS he drew near, the
man ran away and the woman fell to the
ground. When he came up he found that
It was Mary. She had only tainted, and
Ae soon brought her to herself. Then by
degrees she confessed to him that her
lover had persuaded her to meet him that
night in the combe, bringing with her
a small sum of money which she had
saved from early childhood by laying by
little gifte of friends and relations, and
which, according to the custom common
among her class in that day, she had
kept in an old stocking instead of the
bank. Townsend had promised to elope
with her, and marry her. and as she
loved him, and her father would not al
low the match, she had consented to go.
But when he met her, had tried to rob
her of her money. She had resisted, and
struggled with him, and just then the
clergymen had come up, and the villain
had run away. After that night Mr.. n
was believer in the providential nature
of dreams.