Sacramento daily record-union., 1890-04-06
THE PEARL OF BRAS DOR.
AN EASTER STORY.

were longing for her hower-scented breath
and golden days, when Nature shifts her
livery and gives US rose bloom for snow
fakes, and bird minstrelsy for signing
winds of winter, the breaking of winters
bonds, the bursting of bonds that en-
thralled the rivers and bays. But one
bright day the swallows came on blue
flashing wings, not one swallow, but troops
of them, heralding warmer days. And we
were glad, for we had planned an outing
to the Bras dor lakes. We had sighed
for pastures new, and land hitherto une1-
plored by our set. We had sighed for a
lodge in the wilderness and days of delight
with nature herself "Our set meant
Marion Berkly, Claire Morrison, Evylyn
Morrow and myself. Then, when we had
assured ourselves that fine weather had
come, we started for Cape Breton and the
lakes in particular, first supplying our
selves with flies for trout, and enough line
to tangle into Penelope web-(ah! 1
must not forget our light canoe and light
paddles, for we had all been initiated into
the mysteries of padding up stream, and
drifting with the tide and paddle-steering),
hammocks and hampers, and work and
reading for rainy days.
The hands on the steamer looked at our
paraphernalia with interest, and we heard
the boatswain say at sight Of the canoe,
"That's neat coffin for four wimmen to
| commit suicide in. They will paddle to
| the New Jerusalem done up in birch-bark,
| like Strawberries"
With our experience this speech did not
daunt us in the least. After pleasant
trip we arrived at Sidney, and drove from
| there to our lake home. We had made
| previous arrangements with an old miner
! who took summer boarders. The last part
of our trip we had taken the train, and
our host met us at the small, dingy sta
ton. The conveyance he had with him
could not be called carriage, in fact the
girls said it would be no sin to worship it,
for it looked like nothing in the heavens
above or in the earth beneath. After we
had gone mile or SO we thought little
walk would rest us, and besides, an un-
easy constituencies made us think the
spirit of Bergh might descend on US and
arrest our course, for cruelty to animals
The road was narrow and bordered by
trees and shrubs, and granite rocks COW
cred with soft, green, velvety moss; clus-
| tiers of feathery ferns nestled between the
| rocks, and sprays of pink, trailing arbutus
filled the air with their delicate perfume.
| The old man did not seem to mind our de-
serting him, but talked away to his horse
| in cheerful tone, stopping once to give
| US our bearings, "Roight straight ahead to
yer left, and down a Bit"
We followed his directions, and soon
| came within sight of part of the beauti-
full Lake Bras dor. 'Like buckler of
silver cast in the valley by the Great
| Spirit" the shores fringed with green
shrubbery that dropped to see their refec-
| tion in the calm water. Not ripple
| rufiied it, except when a fish started to the
surface and left a widening circle that
reached the shore.
Near the lake stood the low, long house
our resting place for a season-old- fash
ioned and comfortable looking, patch of
cleared ground and a garden as yet not
quite recovered from winters siege. The
door was thrown open Hospitality, and the
old man clambered down from his seat to
give "the introduction" to his daughter
With wave of his long-lashed whip, he
said: "Ladies, my daughter, the Purl of
Bras dor, otherwise Marguerite Newland,
at your service" We bowed and shook
hands with our hostess, then looked curl
ously at her as she turned to go in, after
asking us to "step in and seat ourselves"
A tall, muscular girl, with large black
eyes under heavy black brows, swarthy
complexion, and a vivid red on her high
cheek bones, large, powerful hands and a
long, broad foot. A pleasant smile showed
two rows of even white teeth.
Marion whispered 20 me as we walked
in that "black diamond was more appro-
pirate name than pearl" Her dress was
coarse gray homespun, with broad blue
lines at the bottom, round waist of blue
calico, and white kerchief crossed on her
bosom, string OF black wooden beads, and
a cross hung on it. Large gold rings like
hoops depended from her ears. The
kitchen. and indeed the whole house. was
scrupulously clean, the bare floors were
white, and covered with fine white sand,
over which pattern had been traced with
fine pointed stick-a herring bone pat
tern, too, much used at present for deco
rating fannels, etc. We were shown to
our sitting and the two bedrooms at
our disposal, and were soon ready for our
first meal and further explorations.
Newland, our host, seemed to be quite
an original character. He loved to hear
the sound of his own voice; even when
alone he would chatter Just as volubly. He
would tell of the early days when the
French owned the island, and how famous
the military town of Louisburg was. He
had formerly been miner at Sydney, but
relative dying, and leaving him some
money, he concluded to give up mining,
and take a few of the many tourists that
came that way for fishing and shooting, to
help exc out his daily bread. Marguerite
had been his housekeeper ever since her
mothers death.
LADY" he said confdentially, "my gurl
is purl above price, gem of poorest ray.
serene, as the poet says in some HYMN.
Since Mikeletto, my wife, died she has run
the place, and no one whomsoever. as
comes here, ever said ought against her.
As she is my offspring 1 ought not, maybe,
blow her up, but since her mother died she
has been all in all to me. l will show you
her mothers picture" and he hobbled
away to get it. He brought back little
case and, opening it, he said with pride,
"That's me and me wife that died-my
purps mother" l called the girls from our
sitting-room to see it. This pleased the
old fellow so his face fairly beamed with
delight, and he rocked to and fro on his
heels, and discoursed for quite while to
our great amusement.
The days passed quickly. In the
dim, cool, early mornings we went fish
ing, and afternoons we walked, or pad
died down the lake. The steamer Nep-
tune passed by every other day; coal
laden schooners with dusky sails and
coal-black hulls, not unlike some pirate
craft on dark errand for plunder. Barges
were towned by the tugs, with their
cargo of ''biack diamonds" glistening in
the sunlight. Passenger steamers that had
come through st. Peters Canal were gener-
ally loaded to the guards with pleasure
seekers admiring the fine scenery.
We had been here two weeks, when
Will Berkley, Marion's brother, wrote she
was coming for few days fishing" We
were glad, for ne was tavorite with all
of US. Marion had written him about the
pearl of the lakes, and had aroused his
curiosity, as she suppressed all comments
on her locks. He came the following
Tuesday, with his mother, and his face
was study when the old man gave his