Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1882-09-23

My visits to Burnside became of grea
interest to me. The old woman began t.
look forward to my arrival with much evi
dent pleasure, and the freshness and origin
atty Of jeans remarks were very pleasant
She had read nothing save the pages Of
nature so lavishly distributed round her
but everything came with such acute OBJ
servance, and her mind naturally was 81
refined, that | used to feel when with he
as if had more to learn from her than sh,
could learn from me.
CHAPTER III.
l shall always remember certain au
tumnal day, not long before l left hi
highland spot-s day when the golden haz
of an "Indian summer" filled the air. Ii
a valley stretching away through the hill
some oats were ready to cut, and a neigh
boring farmer who had imported the frs
reaping machine to that part of the coun
try had lent it for the occasion.
Every one turned out as though it were
a festival. In harvest many a respectable
married woman earns enough to clotht
herself and her children for the rest of the
year. The work is pleasant to them, anC
they are as proud of their quickness anG
dexterity as any London belle of her prov
ess in dancing. 1t was certainly one @
the prettiest sights | ever saw the many
colors of the various dresses, the activity
| and merriment SO the machine worked
round the field, leaving the straight line
of PROSTATE corn in its track in regular
rows. AT stated intervals one woman anC
man were placed dexterous little
band, woven from the cut corn, was laid OF
the ground, and an armful of corn laid upor
it; then the mans stronger fingers knotteC
the ends round it, and set the sheaf up
right. The driver and his fellows hurried
ON the horses and tried to keep the work
ers busy; and the workers, with many {
laugh and Jest, exerted themselves with
their utmost quickness, in order to stand
ostentatiously idle before the machine came
round again. Seated on the hillside, where
the lingering gorse flowers and wild thyme
attracted countless bees, l watched the
scene, trying to distinguish the faces ]
knew.
After little while l recognized Jean,
her active and upright figure one of the
busiest there. As usual she was bare.
headed, aud her hair cleaned like red gold
in the sunlight. As usual, too, her manner
had the quiet reserve that she never laid
aside; and noticeable thing was the ST.
lent respect with which the man with
whom she worked treated her. He fol.
lowed her steps as though one wishing to
serve her, not as an equal.
l sat long, enjoying the peaceful and
happy ne-familiarity had only made
me more fond of that secluded spot-and ]
thought had learned to appreciate it bet.
ter; sweet scents and sounds were all
around me. The breeze swept past me as
it rose and died away, ruffing the surface
of the corn as it rutfled the surface of the
sea, and hurrying the fight of the count.
less insects that rustled their wings among
| the wild flowers.
/ was reused from my day. dream by see.
ing little barefoeted lad | knew run eff
to Jean and pull her gown. In moment
she had snatched up her plaid, spoken to
the manager and was gone, followed by the
boy. / conjectured that the old woman
was perhaps i'll but | was always afraid OF
intrudiug, and l knew that if was wanted
Jean would send for me. | left the hill
side and wound my way up steep path
leading homeward. paused at the top to
rest moment and take one other look at
the brilliant and busy scene, when clear
voice began singing a lovely Gaelic air,
with mournful refrain in minor key.
1t was quaint and wild, with the pathetic
sound that invariably accompanies beauti.
| full music. Another voice Joined in, and
yet another; and as the voices swelled up
| in harmony | thought no melody appeals
so forcibly to our higher feelings as the
unframed voices of people, expressing in
their own natural manner the untutored
| feelings of their hearts,
CHAPTER ".
had gone to bed late, and as usual had
| left my window open, watching as long as
could most unusual sunset, when was
awakened by noise that In my half
| dreamy state seemed as though the yea
had burst its bonds and was rushing over
everything. ! never remember seeing such
heavy rain. 1t came down in torrents,
banding down the heads OF the sturdiest
| flowers in the little garden below my win.
dow and washing all the gravel off the
sloping walks. Thunder reverberated
round the hills and vivid flashes of light
ming shot acrossl the sky. A thunder
storm is never so magnificent as among
mountains, and the echoes, repeated again
and again till they died away in the dis
| tance, seemed almost continuous. II
lasted long. Peal after peal succeeded
each other the birds, frightened and be-
wildered, flew from branch to branch to
seek the smallest shelter, and sent forth
melancholy chirps, as though to reassure
| themselves.
| BY breakfast time the rain had moder
ated, and the thunderstorm was over
aud | went out to enjoy the well-knowr
| pleasantness of the air after it, and tc
notice the damage my poor flowers had
sustained, As | stood there | saw a figure
hurrying towards me with a plaid thrown
over her head. 1t was Jean. She wa:
| looking white, and spoke in quick and
agitated way. Mrs. Grant was i'll and
would like much to see me. She had had
news and saw that that news, what.
ever it was, had effected Jean equally. Ii
a few minutes we were ready, and we
walked the shortest way to Burnside. A
we came near the cottage Jean said, Ken
meth is married, and leaving my side,
entered alone. Mrs. Grant could hardly
look but there was distress in her eyes
and in the helpless way in which she
stretched out her hands.
"Tell Jean she must stay" were almost
her first words, and it then at once oc
Cured to me that this coming home might
bring about painful complications ant
that if Kenneth had forgotten, Jean still
loved.
Kenneth's marriage had been surprise
but when Mrs. Grant put his letter into
my hands. and begged me to read it,
quite understood the pain it must have
caused her. He wrote in sad and de
spending way-was evidently sorry for his
young wife-found it impossible to remain
there, surrounded by her relations-begar
several times to send a message to Jean
carefully scratching out what he bad be
gun; and finally leaving all unsaid, HI
ended by hoping his grandmother would b'
kind, and make allowances. 1t was let
ter written in such evidently low spirits
and the want of happiness was SO painfully
manifest, that it was quite sad to read.
sat long and talked with the old won
an. She told me Jean never would listen t
Kenneth but even she did not know why