Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1889-09-26
him. and nothing now remained but to ger
"a. ss ell

him, and nothing now remained but TO get
away from IL ell.
The breeze swept up from the sea and
through the open easement, dallying with
the loose Grape sleeve of her dress, the
sweet English violets lent their breath 70
the caress OF the wind, and q bird In the
garden below began its vesper Song.
Miriam shut her eyes and leaned back in
the depths of her chair 20 dream of
fond baby fingers stealing up around her
neck, and Of deep, musical voice calling
tenderly across the vale Miriam, dearest,
goodbye
Patricia rose quietly and glanced at her
sister-in-law, and seeing her eyes closed
said, softly: "She is resting, poor darling f"
Then she went out, leaving her, as she
thought, 20 refreshing nap.
"Of course she said to herself. with .
bright blush Of happiness. "Of course,
Hollis will purchase Miriam's home If she
Wishes 10 dispose Of IL, but we would rather
she would 1--we with US instead of going 70
America"
And the 1.-the little English girl glanced
down on one dimpled hand, where a brilliant
solitaire flashed ia silent af1mative
Miriam opened her eyes slowly. Patricia
had gone downstairs, and she was alone,
alone in the sweet June twilight, with the
niusic OF the clear, evening bells, chorusing
the deep bass OF the sea, floating tenderly,
softly around her The plaintive song Of
Robin Adair came up from below, and she
knew the old man with his bagpipes was
making his rounds once more for s'iust wan
ha'-penny, please" "Friendless and poor,
perhaps sorrowful Also" she murmured,
leaning over the window ledge.
Yes; he was coming her way, and would
stop just beneath her window, as usual.
Poor old fellow; he aped the dress Of the
Highlander and doubtless thought the
music OF his bagpipes equal TO any OF
SCOTS minstrel melodies. Well, he was q
sorry-looking minstrel OF the degenerate
latter days, TO say the least.
There, what was that he was singing, 10
his rich Scotch broguei Harkl the song
had changed, and 'Where my bonnie love
lies sleeping" Is what he essays ia his
quaint voice. She would go down and drop
penny in the wIthered palm.
why do you sing that sOrrowful song,
my friendW questioned Miriam, opening the
lower sash and recognizing in the dreamy
light the picturesque garb OF the aged man
whom Arthur loved 10 hear sing.
The song ceased, and caressing his bag
pipes with loving touch he made answer:
"Ahi lady fair, sair Is me heart for the
bonnie love gone out of me life"
Then your love is dead as well as NINE"
said Miriam, with tremor Of hopeless pain
running through her words.
The quick ear Of the man with the rusty.
looking bagpipes noted the qlaver Of tears
in her voice. and a sudden mist came be-
tween him and the world.
Yes, me darling is dead' he replied,
shut the guide Gods will be done; I'm not
the wan TO be unhappy, ma am, for wan
glorious day I'll cross over where the music
is finer, and I'll find her there"
he put his trembling fingers once more
on his pipes, dropped his head and began:
And where my love lies sleeping
The angels keep watch and ward"
"Don'ti don'tp walled Miriam, in q
helpless tone, you mean to comfort, no
doubt, but you only wound afresh. l can
not say with you that am not unhappy,