The Osceola times., 1879-11-15
VOLUME XII.
THE BROKEN PRIMROSES.

months of Spring in the country in child
hood that cannot recall how joyously the
first appearance Of the favorite was
hailed. and its opening watched as the
delicate buds peeped from amongst the
thick green leaves under the shade Of 9
brier brush, or around the roots of 2
wide-branching ash-tree, or on the tiny
shelves of the hoary rock?
To see even bunch of artificial prim-
roses on pretty young lady's bonnet
seems to me to give touch of poetry "a
the wearer; whilst to see them worn by
amatron about to enter into the sere
and yellow leaf period, looks like the
ripe months of September or October
wearing the livery of Spring. They
seem more IN keeping even in the silvery
locks of age; for an early primrose may
blossom on the brow of Winter.
But W our story.
The laird of a certain Highland estate,
which we shall call Achanellan, was
early left fatherless, but was carefully
trained by very wise, although dot
ing mother. Sir Malcolm was a fine,
high spirited young man, who gave her
the very highest satisfaction in all things
excepting in the wandering habits he
had early formed. He would often dress
himself in the strangest DISCUSSES and
mingle with his tenants, taking leading
share in their games and pastimes.
His mother, knowing his high and
honorable nature, was never afraid Of
his doing anything wrong at such times,
but she thought his conduct undignified;
so, as she could not win him from this
strange habit, she tried to influence him
TO get married. With this object in
view she gathered around her, both in
London and at home, all the young Ia
dies she most admired; but her efforts
seemed in vain. Sir Malcolm was cour-
teous and attentive to all her guests, but
he w-s sti!i fancy free; and she loved
him too ,caderly TO wish 10 see him
married without sincere attachment.
She knew the requirements OF his ma
ture, and understood, therefore. that Il
loveless marriage would only drive him
fartherin the wandering habits from
which she wished him to be weaned.
When Sir Malcolm was in his twenty
fifth year he went to a distant part OF his
estate, which hc had never visited be-
fore; and. hearing there was to be we'd
ding, he went TO it in the disguise of
minstrel lie wore IL tattered old tartan
coat. and carried his fiddle over his
shoulder in a green baize bag, viii lst his
fair skin was stained to appear like a
gipsy's.
1t was toward the latter end of Spring
"A clear, beautiful afternoon-and by
the riverside the young people were
yaily dancing. while an old, white-haired
man. with palsied hand, was trying his
best 10 give them music.
The Young man drew near, and, bow
ing to the company, he drew ms OLD
bonEc. over his brow, and began to
play.
The dancers were delighted, for they
had never listened to such strains before;
and the old fiddler, trembling for fear
of losing the reward he expected, went
To the young minstrel in the hrst pause
of the music, and proposed that what,
ever was paid to either OF them should
be equally divided with the other. The
young man laughingly assented, and
when the best man came to offer glass
of something to drink, he refused II; but
said, as it WAS getting cold, II the OLD
man would play tune, he would be
glad to dance reel.
Permission was 1t once given, and the
minstrel asked for his partner pretty,
gray-eyed, modest-looking maiden, whose
graceful movements he had watched in
the dance. She readily gave him her
hand. and such dancing was seldom
seen bv those present. When he led
her back to her friends, he offered her
a few primroses from a small bouquet he
had gathered by the riverside, and.
turning to another fair girl, he offered
l. Al. nf tha HDWprS ana
bcgped her hand for the next dance.
She tossed her head Indignantly, and
her looks said plainly g.,
"Do you think would dance with
gipsey?" o. ,. r his
hand. but she broke them and cast them
away, saying
Il don't care for flowers, and I'm not
going to dance with you, thank YOU
The young man turned away hastily
and the maiden who had danced win
him said to her rather naughty compan-
ion
"How could you wound the young
mans feeling so? What harm couid u
do YOU to dance with him2 And oh! the
dear primroses; the first lhave seen TINS
wear. See! YOU have broken them; ana
Jessie bowed down and gathered the
scattered flowers, and carefully placing
them among those given herself hxed
hem in her belt. =,
"How could you rather, dance with
fellow like that-likely one OF the gang
of tinkers that passed yesterday? And
will YOU really wearthe flowers he gave,
continued the maiden, with an exceed
ingy scornful sneer.
II wear the flowers for their own sakes'
How could you break them-the peau'
ties?" replied Jessie, caressing the bou-
ouct with A tender touch. AS for danc-
inp with the young man, am sure l am
quite ready 10 do 80 again, were II not
only for his delightful music"
Margaret drew herself away in dighi-
fled silence. She was quite horrihed al
the conducc of Jessie; and the young
man, who was lowering near, and watch,
ing the maIdens, again offered ms haho
TO Jessie; and, anxious to heal the wound
her companion had given, she oai'ceo
with him gladly. al, Ito
He saw she was enraptured Win me
music, and he was delighted wheh, a
the close of the festival, she asked nm
to proceed to her fathers house, "nel.
she wished to hear again his sweet
strains. She had an old piano-not
very good one, but nevertheless one Una,
gave her pleasure; and she wished 10 Wy
some of the tunes he had played to the
dancers. Jessies sisters were very muSn
afraid she had compromised the family
dignity by dancing with this s'ro,i.r h;n,
and they grubied about her asking .!an MN
10 their home so late an hour rin the even
ing. oaor Jess;e