Nevada County picayune., 1891-11-12

, mer down and keep quiet, mebbe, " she said. Then. still chuckling glee- fully, "Ive let ye have your say, and now I'll have mine. We're poor folk, me and you. l found it hard to get bread when had but my own mouth to feed, and since I've been burdened wi you I've gone to bed many night fit to cry wi hunger. But I've borne it all, an done my best, an always been willing to gi' you a share O my last crust"
 "Oh, but don't ask me to do this, '' pleaded Bessie.
 "But l must. You've a chance now to show your gratitude an to pay me back. When you're mistress at the Red Pass l shall have plenty O good victuals, an warm seat in the ingle-side corner to the end O my days; an no need to lift a finger. !"
 But, dearest grandma" began Bessie.
 Now, lookee here, my lass," in- terrupted the old woman, lifting her bony finger and glowering tiercely upon Bessie, ,'if ye're fool enou' to refuse this good forth, that ends it twist us two. You pack out O my house, and ne'er cross the threshold agin."
 Bessie was silent. The great world, beyond the Highland peaks, seemed so dlm and far away, and the old home scenes were so familiar.
 The autumn days drifted on and winter set in. A wild, white, cruel Highland winter Leaden skies and lonesome waiing winds, and sudden snow storms rushing across the hills like white whirlwinds. Aud Mither Burns" fell ill with rheumatism, and Rob, the herds lad, got his arm broken, and the milch COW sckened and died, and Bessie went to bed supperless many a night.
 The constant drip of water wears away the solid stone, and the con stant pressure of care and want and entreaty bends the stoutest will. Bessie yielded at last, and one wild night, when Squire Renfrcw came down to Black Lynn, she suffered him to put ring on her finger.
 The very next day the cottage was filled with all sorts of comforts; and week thereafter fine garments of linen and wool, and even silk, were being made up for Bonnie Bessie, :" for in spring time she was to go to the kirk with Squire Renfrew, and be made his wife.
 The spring time had come and the wedding day was close at hand, when one evening, just before the gIoam- ing, Bessie went to fill her pitcher as usual at the rocky spring near by. She had accomplished her task, mad lifted the pitcher to her shoulder, and had started for the cottage. her white shapely feet twinkling prettily below the short petticoat as she step ped from stone to stone m crossing the crawling stream, when suddenly she uttered stiiled cry, and stag gering to moss grown boulder, sat down, and put the pitcher hastily on the ground, pressing her hand on her heart and trembling all over.
 its his ghaist, it's his ghaist, '" she cried, "and oh, how sair he looked at me"'
 Whatever she had seen, or fancied she had seen, there was nothing in sight when she next looked up how ever, nothing except the ovcrhang' ing rocks of the glen, the brook shimmering in the evening light, and the white birch trees swaying spec trally against the sky.
 He has come from his grave '" she cried, glancing fearfully around. II dare ha, dare na do it. Oh for give me Jamie, that l ever thought O it.
 The sunset fires had died out and the wind began to be chill, yet she sat there still, unconscious alike of her pitcher and of her pet dog who watched her so wistfully. The twi- light itself faded, the crescent moon came out above, and the bubbling of the highland spring filled all the si- lence.
 Suddenly she rose, with resolution stamped on every feature.
 II must give the squire his ring again." she said, brushing the last tears from her eyes. "It is hard for him, but there is no other way. Then