The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-02-02
THE "AULD BRIG
Over the Doom, Near All0Way Kirk-A Medi-
tatiOn in Prose

unobtrusively over the cheerful babbling little
river Doom. 1t shows no disposition to remove
1 from its familiar rural neighborhood into the
/ city. 1t has grown so accustomed to the rustic
| of the leaves that hang over it, and the breezy
airs that Playfully whisk the dust onto it, and
the dancing checkers of sunshine that come to
freekle its forehead, and the pats of the rain
drops that pIayfully smite the unpublished little
stones of its parapets, that it would feel too
lonesome away from them to enjoy even the
more formal sociahility of the town of Ayr, but
a couple of miles away. Certainly it would feel
unpleasant if it should be separated from the
| little grooves made by creaking little
cart wheels in the stony little white
winding road that curves up to and over it. 1t
would drip tears when it gave its early morning
look down the pebbly stream and missed the
wonted sight of its fellow-bridge looking at itself
in its broken looking-g glass of a river.
Any wonders So long undisturbed in its hab-
its! So many years to grow acquainted with the
brook and the trees, and the banks and the
water-worn pebbles beneath! So many long
sleeps while the dews gently cooled its day
heated brow; and the watehful stars peeped at
it, and the stream beneath and the trees around
guarded it from intrusion
Nothing but pride would ever make it desire
to move. Think of how many queer talks it
must have had with al these quiet neighbors
when they were alone together! So much ex-
change of whispered opinions about the oc-
currences of the night! Such impartings of
bits of observation and chance word overheard
What eager listennes as rude voices and foot
steps approached! Such pleasurable conscious
ness of companonship while suspicious meet
ings were taking place at it! So many mutual
breathings of relief as the sound of these de
parting footsteps were heard! And then what
hurried consultations about it ALL Ali no
der, indeed! Possibly it may be mite too timid
III its nerves for so strong bridge. Who could
expect it to be otherwtel Who could have
lived SO long in so quiet place, with such unob-
trusive neighbors and so far from eventful Oc-
currences provided they had any nerves at alll
wonted thing as dance of witches
that has cankered the growth of
the elms on yon hillside and
| caused the tombstones Told enough and
sturdy enough to bear almost anything to reel
and totter about the disordered little burial
place around the scared little kirk beyond
| Nervous, indeed!
| Mayhap it may not be so active as some
bridges of its weight good reason enough for its
not striding over any broader stream in the
stiffness of its joints that comes of its having
staid out of doors in all sorts of nights in this
chilly Scotch weather And that, too, when it
| was so Stancn IN lis temperance principles.
There is question but that it has been
above reproach in its conduct toward its neigh
! bors. No busy tongue has ever been known to
| whisper anything to the contrary. Frying old
antiquarian mischief-makers have never brought
| to hight the least shadow OF an accusation
| against its morals in all their rumlnagng among
| the records Of the rigid little kirk on the hill
| above it. Had there been so much as but an
exhibition of undue levity upon its part at the
| sound of the rather nasal, and by no means
| harmonious singing of psalms in those grim
| little walls. it is morally certain that the solemn
elders of that serious little kirk would have not
| only frowned upon it with the sternest of disap-
| probation but would have sent an auStere dele
| CATION of their sturdiest members with written
| statement of the entire matter to make full
| exposition of the whole enormity
of it to the amazed preshvtery. But SO sedate
| has been its conduct that nothing Of the kind is
| believed by the entire neighborhood ever to
! have been thought of On the contrary
! those very elders have each and all laid them
selves down i'll this little queer old grave yard,
| right above it, without the slightest fear that
their silent meditations upon the success with
which they have performed the whole duty of
man would ever be disturbed by any such be-
| havior. And with all its occurrences what
faithful little old bridge it has been Never has it
been known to delay the footsteps of a resolute
attender of that old kirk No person ever
| charged it with having refused to support the
uncertain foot of the venerable dame as she bore
! in her arms, across it, the new born, or
|
! 1t could be relied upon always to bear over the
stream the ploughman on hasty GRAND to Ayr:
/ and it was never clearly convicted Of being out
| of the way when it wanted to help over the
! little river the unsteady legs Of a gudeman re
| turning late from too-ong tarrying at the ingle
! of the upPoarous inn. Never fear bat its steady
| tale would be credited against the wandering
! wits of any such who asserted it to be missingi
| Trusty old bridge! How often has it listened,
| without so much as drawing breath of the
| cheerful moonlight air, While lovers leaning over
| its rustic guard whispered from rosy mouth to
busiling ears the revelations of their lives! And
not one of those lovers has ever returned to re-
! proach it with having even so much as given
| hint of their secret. Never!-unt the Joy
| GUS wedding party, returning homeward, threw
| their grateful flowers over its ledge into the
| pratting stream beneath. Then, who could
wonder, to look over and see the sturdy bridge
shaking its sides with softly uttered laughter in
the circing water below
| No wonder the people hereabouts have such
! affection for it. 1t would be strange if the pro-
cession should not it, to his last sleep,
| the gudeman who had found it true to the
footstep of long friendship 1t would be very
unreasonable to expect the wagon-boy not to
drive out of his way to greet it as he remem-
bered how often it had permitted him to go over
its trusty stones to school And all the world
would say the lasses did right to smile fondly
upon it when remembering how often
| il had kept their hesitating feet and dainty
drapery from being soied aud draggled in the
| waters beneath.
Who that thinks Of the long good-neighborship
! that must have existed between it and the little
kirk, even before that edfce began to show the
| sign of age; and the silent sympathy with which
it cheered those tottering walls after time had
| grooved the face about those hollow eyes of win
! dOws. can help but feel pang of sympathetic
sadness with this sedate, little old bridge when
it was compelled TO see the unseemly CLEAN of
unholy lights. and hear the sounds Of irreverent
mirth escape from the helpless old kirk ON that
memorable Tam OShanter" night!
Who can help but believe that the indignant
bridge would have hurled some of its loosened
| stones at that disgraceful crew of midnight
| witches while they in the very height of
their sacrilegous orgies, if its shoulders had not
been too deeply embedded in the earthl Who SO
destitute Of feeling that he does not appreciate
the distress Of that sturdy old bridge as it
] L.AaErl ,..it..h A,-iraor tnAr.lrl If