The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-09-12

of his life for something which he cannot
name. 1t is the song which the birds sing
on the moor in the autumn nights, and the
old crow on the trectop hears and flaps his
wing. 1t is the lit which old men and wo-
men hear in the darkening Of their days,
and sigh for the unforgetable; and love-
sick girls get catches of it and play pranlls
with their lovers. 1t is a song so old that
Adam heard it in the Garden before Eve
came to comfort him, so young that from
it still flows the whole joy and sorrow of
earth.
Then it ceased, and all of a sudden the
man was rubbing his eyes on the hillside
and watching the falling dusk. Il have
head the Song of the Moor" he said to
himself, and he walked home in a daze.
The whaups were crying, but none came
near him, though he looked hard for the
bird that had spoken with him. 1t may be
that it was there and he did not know it.
or it may be that the whole thing was
only a dream; but Of this l cannot say.
The next morning the man rose and
went to the manse.
Il am glad to see you, Simon" said the
minister, "for it viii soon be the COM
munion season, and it is your duty to go
round with the tokens
'"True," said the man, "but 1t is an
other thing [ came to talk about" and he
told him the whole tale.
'"There are but two ways of it. Simon"
tim of witchCraft or We are a scheduled
man. If the former (whie I am 10th to
believe, then it behooves we to watch
and pray, lest We enter into temptation.
If the latter, then ye maun put a strict
watch over vagrom fancy, and ven be
quit o siccan whigmaleeries."
Now SIMON was not listening, but star
ing out of the window. There was an
other thing l had it in my mind to say
said he. "I have come TO lift my lines
for 1 am thinking Of leaving the place"
and where would ye go?' asked the
minister, aghast.
II was thinking of going to Carlisle and
trying my luck as dealer, or maybe push
ing on with droves to the SOUTH
But that's a cauld country, where there
are no faithful ministrations,' said the
minister
maybe so, but am not caring very
muckle about minstrations." said the
man, and the other looked after him in
horror.
When he left the manse he went to a
wise woman who lived on the left side of
the kirkyard above Threepdaidle burn
foot. She was very old and sat by the
ingle day and night waiting upon death
To her he told the same tale.
She listened gravely, nodding with her
head. Zach" she said, 'I have heard a
like story before. And where viii you be
going?"
Il am going south to Carlisle to try the
dealing and droving,' said the man, "for
1 have some skill of sheep"
"And will We bide there?" she asked.
maybe aye, and maybe no." he said 81
had half mind to push on to the big town
or even to the abroad. A man must try
his fortune"
That is the way of men," said the old
wife. Il, too have heard the Song of the
Moor, and many women who now sit de-
Gently spinning IN Kilmaclavers, have
heard it. But a woman may hear it and
lay it up in her SOUL and bide at hame,
while a man, if he gets but a glisk of it in
his FOOLS heart, must needs up am ava TO
the wards end on some daft-like ploy. My
gang your ways and fare We Teel. NV
cousin Francis heard it, and he went north
wi, a white coclade in his bonnet and a
sword at his side, singing Charles come
hame.' And Tam Crichtoun o the Bour-
hopehead got a sough @ ii one SINNERS
morning, ard the last we heard O Tam he
was killed among the Frenchmen fetching
like a fair dell. Once / heard a tinker
play a sprig of 1t on the pipes and a the
lads were wud to follow him. Gang your
ways for I am near the end of mine"
And the old wife shook with her coughing
So the man put up his belongings in a
pack on his back and went whisting down
the Great South road.
Whether or not this tale have a moral
It is not for me to say. The king (Who
told it mel said that it had, and quoted
a scrap of Latin, for he had been at OK
ford in his youth before he fell heir to
his kingdom. "One may hear tunes from
the Song of the Moor" said he, lin the
thick Of a storm on the scarp of a rough
hill, in the low June weather, or in the
silence of q winters night. But let none"
he added, pray to have the full music,
for it will make him who hears it a foot
sore traveller in the ways of the world
and masterless man TIL DEATH"
CRra,r C.trr,nrAN C,rrIEs