Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1898-01-05

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that ye get when we were first marritt,
John, an the last new goon I had was
when Leeby deed, twenty-five ear
yne. We hinna even had the comfort
in oor BARNS that ither folk hae. Had
Leeby been spared, things MIGHT hae
been different-a dochter's aye a
dochter to the end O. her days. Jock
was soft CLAP frae the first, an I
never expeckit muckle O. him; he had
his ain adae wi that wife O. his an
their seeven BARNS, but oh, John! [
can never get over oor Dave. My
hale hope was centred in him, an I
made sure he wad bring honor an
credit to oor name. I'd rather believe
him deid than think he'd forgotten his
father an mitherl It's the terrible
uncertainty OF a that mak's it mair
than I can thole, an though it's mair
than five ear moo sim wo heard ony-
thing O. him, my first thocht every
mornin' when I rise is, will there ony
word O. oor Dave the day?"
s'I often hae thochts myself, Kir-
sten," said John, drawing his chair
closer to hers, San I've aye the notion
that we'll hear something O. the lad
die afore we've dune wi this life.
They were happy days when the BARNS
were a aboot us, guild wifel Whiles
when I'm workin' oot on the fields my
lane, I fin myself ava back i the
past again, an G. the troubles nm
changes we've haen slip clean oot O.
SIGHT. Dae ye min the day, Kristen,
that we we're mairrit doom j. the Ellie,
an brocht yo hame to Muiredge in
carriage? Ye were as Draw that day
as ony Teddy i the land"
"Aye, John, I min it weel, " she an
swered, and her eyes met his in o
wistrul gaze. ''It was the only drive
I ever had wi yc, but we've walkit
mony n mile thegithcr sim syne;
can ye'vc never rued the day ye
cam to Muiredge, hae ye', Kirsten?"
"No, John, I can honestly say I've
never ruod. Ye've been guild man
to me, an though I've grudge again
the place for gieiu' us sac little back
for a. oor toll, it wad be like ruggin'
the moss frao O stane to TAX me AVA
frae't moo. Wheesht what na noise is
that ootside? It was maist awful like
maclline drivin' up to tho hoose.
There it is again, an it's turnin' to
gang ava moo. I've heard tell O. sic
soun's comm to fouk rs warnin's.
"Dinna speak OF, woman," inter
posed John, hurriedly; then they sat
in silence for q moment, regarding
each other with anxious, troubled
looks. Suddenly the handle of the
outer door was turned with sharp
click, and before they had time to
think, tall fellow strobe into the kit
chen.
"Motherl Eather Thank God,
you're aye here yet" he exclaimed,
and his voice rang ioyfully through the
still house.
"John! John! it's Dave, oor Dave!"
cried Kristen, and springing to her
feet, she stretched out her arms to her
long lost son. John had risen also,
even before she spoke, and grasping
the hand of his son, wrung it silently,
his heart too full OF gratitude to find
speech. Kirsten's face was radiant,
yet the tears were coursing down her
withered checks.
"Oh, laddie, whaur hae ye been?
Our herts hao been sair for sicht O.
ye," she asked, scanning him from
head to foot. "Ye're weel put on, sac
ye Gamma hae been i'll aff--the laird
himself couldna look ony mar the gan-
tleman."
GIVE made my fortune at last,
mother, though it has been at terri
BILE cost" he answered. "Again and
again I have been at deaths door with
hunger and sickness combined, but
thank God, for your sakes, have won
the victory over oil. It has been as I
supposed, tho different letters I wrote
have never reached you. Being far
away in an uncivilized place, L had to
trust them to the care Of others, who
either forgot to post them or lost them
altogether. Whenever struck gold
my first thought was to sell out and
come home to the old country. So I
have come-a rich man-you will not
need to grind on any longer in this
poor place, for I shall keep you i'll
every comfort to the end of your days. "
"Davic, lad, this is great day, q
great day!" cried the old man, wiring
ing his hand again. ''I was sure
something was gaun to happen, I'd sic
q queer uplifted feelin'; IN ye mither
too seemed wrocht up an oot O
her ordinar'. The corn's a safe i
the yaird, lad, an ye've come back
jist in time to keep the Maiden (the
feast celebrating the ingathering Of
the corn) wi us. See, yonder's the
last sheaf, an as wes tellin' yel
mithcr, we hinna haen the like OF sin
the ear ye wer born. Ye brocht luck
wi We when ye come first, an'it's como
back WI ye rgain, though it dinna
seem q wee while syne that at Muir
edge, O. a places, there wad be mail
rejoicin' the NIGHT than ony ither gate
i the East Neuk."
"Ayc, laddie, ye've made q new
wumman O. yer mither," broke il
Kristen, who still hung about him, un
able to withdraw her eyes from hi:
face for q single moment. GIVE been
OF mony Maiden i my young days
but never felt mair like dancin' thai
I dae this NIGHT.
''You make too much of me, mother,
replied her son, laying his hand fond
ly on her bowed shoulders. "Yet yor
are not any more glad to see me bach
than L an to be home 1t will not bt
my doings if ever leave you again
Come, let us draw in close to the fire,
and we'll talk over all that has past
and see what plans we can make fo'
the future. "
"Aye, there's muckle to talk ower
laddie, but somehoo it seems as If th'
sicht O. yo was eneuch for me th'
nicht," answered Kristen, taking he
old choir nv tho inrlo neuk HI hin =