Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-02-27
A BRAVE WOMAN.
BY ELSIE SNOWE.

Fifty years ago, in the backwo0dS
of Canada life was sufficiently danger
Gus and full of unloOked-for events
to satisfy the most ardent craving for
adventure. But. as too often happens,
the adventures came to those who
were not DESTROYS and but little pre-
pared to meet them.
Jeanne Malcolm, with her little baby,
had followed her good man across the
seas to settle with him in the little
log cabin he had built for her; and a
proud and happy woman she was to
fnG herself mistress of such a cosy
place, and the dozen acres of land
about it which Donald had cleared. .
and made fit for q fine garden, and
one fine field of Wheat-the latter
being already planted and Sproutlng
fresh and green, and well-covered from
the frost under the frs heavy fall Of
snow.
"Eh, Jeanne, lass !" said the proud
young husband, as he showed his
bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked wife around
the little house he had prepared for
her. "we'll hae q garden that will
make yer bOnny cen brighter even
than they are to look upon it-siccan
garden as only the grand folk WI
gardeners to keep it in order can haze
at home, and few things that wad
max even the grandest O the folk at
home open their eyes ilka wide
indeed"
MA clertie, but it's Draw warld,
this new warld, Donald lad, . returned
Jeanne with an accent trife broader
than her husbands. but in a voice as
sweet as the mairs singing amoung
the Scottish hills. AN it's glad I
am to be here, thaugh the tears come
in my cen betimes, and l haze sair
ache at my HART, whites, when I
think O. the auld folk at hame."
''Think always, lassie, that we'll
hae them a. DOT here wi us ane day
as soon as | can clear anither ten
acres or so, and add wee few mair
rooms to our hoose-think always that,
jeanne lass, and then the tears Wilma
come in yer cen except fra gladness. :"
This was good advice, and like the
sensible little woman she was, took it !;
and was soon heard singing about her
new home, while she tended to her
various household duties, as blithely
as she had ever sung in her dear old
Scottish home.
1t was terrible winter, such win
ter as made those who were native
and to the manor born SILVER and
shake and rub their blue noses while
they declared that g never-never in
the Casadian backwoods had such a
winter been known
Small wonder, then, that it chilled
little jeanne, who knew nothing of such
weather-eyen by hearsay; but she
kept up good heart, and only sang
louder and gayer when she went out
at mOrniig and evening to milk the
cow, always treating the ''puir
bastie' to a bran mash on an extra
cold night, to put heart into her to
bear up against the frost during the
night.
And then she conSoled herself for all
the worry and hard work of the day
when she sat down beside Donald for
the evening, the light of two tallow
candles dimly Illuminating the book he
read from, and the stocking she
knitted, while her busy foot rocked
the baby'S cradle and her sweet voice
croWed nursery rhymes in tone too
low to interfere with Donald's read
ing.
so passed the winter, busily and
merrily; and it was well into
February, but still desperately cold,
to Jeanie's great surprise, for at home
in Scotland the spring was often ahead
Of the calendar, and in this last month
of winter the air was soft and balmy,
and already the earth seemed to eXhale
the odors the sleeping flowers.
Their store Of flour had run out, and
although there was still oatmeal and
cornmeal in the house, Donald refused
to wait any longer for the fine day
that seemed in no hurry to come.
mo, lass, it's i'll waiting on the
weather. he said, "it's just like
watching the kettle when We want it
to boil; and we've been twa days
wi'out bread already. I'll no be that
lazy but yell haze yer bread set for the
rising tonight, and white and light
for breakfast rolls the morn's
morrow"
Jeanne did not oppose her husbands
intention, for she agreed with him
and as it was not long journey nor
dangerous-during daylight-she has
tened Donald away that he might be
home again before nightfall.
And it really seemed as if Donald's
words about the watched teakettle
were to bear similar Interpretation
regarding the weather, for it was
scarcely an hour after his departure
when the day. which had been damp
and lowering, suddenly cleared, the
air took keen touch of frost, and
Jeanne felt treasured to reflect that
evenif her husband should be detained
longer than he expected he would have
fine, bright night for his walk home
through the woods.
She felt surprised and slightly
uneasy, however, as the afternoon
waned, and the lonely dusk came
creeping on, that her good man did
not return; for he had had more than
time to have crossed the mile of thick
woods to the struggling village beyond,
and to have returned home again.
Maybe they could ma send the
-four the day, and Donald's waiting
for the chance O. lift from some
neebor. who'll bring himself, as well
L - "