The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1879-01-24

IL
eyes from its rocky perch above the
Struggling lake village, on the steep, un-
guarded roadway in front, and the mar
row strips Of garden ground stretching
like green arms on either side.
No, held converse with the noun
tains. They were to me the barrier be-
tween love and life and happiness, but
it was only on their solitary heights
felt free to give the feeling utterance.
The thrifty household ways of my aunt
and cousins, which kept them ever busy,
were strange to me. My dainty fingers
had no acquaintance with rolling-pin or
pasteboard. 1t was not who kept so
bright the mirror in which l saw my
own beauty-aye, and my own unhappi-
ness-rehected. / was supposed to be
mourning, and, with mistaken delicacy,
was left to do-nothing.
Had Uncle Ritson known it, or how L
spent my time, he would have shaken
me up ike bottle of physic and /
should have been the better for it. But
whether on foot, or horseback, or in his
ancient gig, he was off in morning, and
frequently was absent all day. His pa
tients were scattered, and his rounds
extended.
I, having no occupation for hands or
energies, feeling myself somewhat apart
from the rest, was off and away up the
breezy hillsides to the lonely margin of
the lake, or in the most secluded glens,
my only companion my faithful dog,
and there, where there was only the
wind to answer me, poured forth all
the pent-up feelings of my heart, and
oft my gusts of passion found utterance
in song At times l took pencil and
sketch book with me in these wander
ings, but there was ever one figure In
the foreground of the most picturesque
scene, and often enough the picture
was there alone, the adjuncts all forgot
ten.
At first Bella or Winnie had borne
me company, but I think they saw my
longing to be alone; and L had my way,
not without many cautions from my
aunt.
What were perils to me, chatting
against the restraint of my fathers will,
crying from the depths of my inmost
heart for the banished love, who would
never find me in those solitudes, and
longing for wings to traverse land and
sea until found my home on his faith
full bosom?
Lost in distractions, all danger was
forgotten, and / had paid the penalty
but for guardian angel little dreamed
of.
Ny first peril was from the mountain
mist, which came down and around me
with bewildering suddenness, plotting
out the landscape far and near.
Still / thought I knew my way, and
was stepping onward, though with eau
ton, when my dress was clutched from
behind, as 1 fancied by some bush !;
turning to disentangle it, L was con-
fronted with what seemed an awful APP
partition looming through the misty
veil, and, with suppressed cry, stood
still i'll alright.
saw woman's form, bent with age,
face intersected with lines and wrinkles
like map, from which nose and chin
stood out like mountain peaks, and the
sunken eyes cleaned like fiery depths
of two volcanic craters.
stop, my leddyp she cried: "the
gates of death are open before ye!
TAX my hand and let me lead you !;
thank God, my BARN, that Elspa was
near you in your peril"
had heard of Elspa as woman who
dealt in herbs and simples, but l had
heard of her as one with an uncanny
reputation. She was spoken of as "the
wise woman" but the words were ut
tered as if they meant witch"
/ confess / was half afraid to accept
her guidance, but she stamped her foot,
and by gesture strong as words gave me
to understand that | had been walking
toward precipice, and three steps fur
Their would have borne me to destruc-
ton.
What landmark she had / know not,
but 1 think she seemed to feel her way
with her feet. At all events, after about
an hours cautious stepping, we stood
below the mist, the blue lake cleaning
uncle's house within sight. Conscious
of the service she had rendered, did
not confne my thanks to words, but was
liberal with my coin.
AS she took "the siller" she scanned
my face curiously, then seized my hand
and peered into it closely, while a sort
of creepy sensation (excusable in girl
of 49, stole over me.
"Once, twice, thrice! Three perils,
my bonnie Teddy. One is past. The
ithers lie before. Perils of your ain
seeking. The gates of death stand in
the path of your true love. Open them
not with rash or needless hands before
the year be out, or love may mourn for
love that couldna bide. The air of
mountain and of lake is ma guide for We,
BARN. Keep mair at hame and dinna
be misdoubtin'. There's a guide God
above al Remember One danger is
overpast. Ta'e heed we seek not the
ithers; and dinna scott at old Elspa's
warning words"
The old woman trotted off with her
basket on her arm, a rusty black bonnet
on her head, garments poor but clean,
and only poor check woclen handker-
chief to protect her from the chilly
mountain mists.
/ had scarcely decided whether to
laugh at her maunderings or to yield
to the superstitious feeling she had
awakened when / opened the house