Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1898-07-05
IN THE LAND OF THE eluEBElL
AND HEATHER.
NO. H..

Il
From the Democrats Foreign Correspondent
EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND.
Twas within mile Of Edinboro' town,
In the rosy time Of the year.
Sweet flowers bloomcd and the grass was down
Odd scotch Song
Edinburgh at last! Il Is not the rosy
time Of the year, neither are many sweet
flowers In bloom, and the grass was
down lang syne, but we all know that
each shepherd wooes his dear at any and
all times Of the year. A certain person
has been known to say that there is no
poetry In q city, but that certain person
must take Il all back now that she has
seen Edinburgh, or E1inboro', as 1t Is
called here, for what reason Is not kno wn,
as 1t Ia always spelled Edinburgh, but as
a burgh Ia a borough and borough a
buryh, presumably the preference is
given TO Edinboro' because II sounds
softer and more musical.
At any rate Eiinboro' Il shall be, for
the sake of the old Scotch song, which
brings back the frat time II WAS ever
heard, by ears that now listen to the
sounds, and eyes that now gaze on
scenes OF that same famed Edinboro'
town. II WAS one night long ago-cen-
turies II seems-when the writer OF this
"epistle" Was a bsrefooted urchin, stand
ing In the remotest corner afforded, the
better to hide the contour Of those same
bare feet, but which, like the ostrich
that hides its head In the sand and thinks
itself invisible, renders itself all the
more visible. A young girl Of the neigh
borhood had been away to the city TO
have "her voice cultivated" rs the
science Of voice training Was called To
those days. On the evening In question
she had repaired with several others to
the abode in question, to enjoy an old
fashioned "sing." Her voice was one,
however, that needed only the cultiva-
tion Of the birds OF the air, for II sang
itself, as IL were; and In all the wander
ings up and down the earth In the years
that have interviewed, and the privilege OF
hearing all the celebrated singers In
every land, there have been none that
could surpass that voice, cultivated most
by the aroma OF Its own pine trees, and
the breezes that swept across the valley
and the hills Of that unrivsled clime-so
the refrain Of that old song
Bonnie Jockey bliihe and CAV.
Kissed sweet Jennie making hay,
The lassie hlushed and frvwning said.
"No, no that will not do
has lived in the memory, ss sung by that
maiden fair, and listened to by that in-
fsntile rustic, with wide open mouth
aud vide open eyes and ears, that are
hearing now the echo OF that vision, and
realizing the contamination Of dreams
too wildly impossible TO ever have been
thought OF as anything but dreams.
But after all, who can sing the old
songs as your mother could? No one.
They are the songs We shall hear In
heaven. And they are the old Scotch
songs What wonder then that the land
that gave them birth Is infinitely sacred
and dear:
"within a mile OF Edinboro' town"
were seen laddie and lassie st harvest
not In the romantic labor Of making hay,
where Bonnie Jockey kissed sweet Jen-
ME, but In the rather more prosaic occu-
patton OF digging turnips, but II II does
no. sound so poetical. IL looked just rs
poetical to see Bonnie Jockey kiss sweet
Jennie in the turnip field, as In the hay
field, for that's just what he actually
did! and to all appearances she did not
"blush and frowning say, No, no, that
will not do" but on the contrary she
evidently commanded him to instantly
return what he had taken-at any rate
he did, aud probably would have kept on
breaking the -th commandment, which
tells about stealing, had not the train
just then whizzed past, and from one
window they got innumerabie psnto-
mimic salutes which they answered In
kind with many smile OF good nature.
There were doubtless more than one
In that train who broke the til COM
maudment, which tells about cOveting,
for this lad and lassie were comely 70
look upOn-and this little episode Of the
two figures was all that WAS wanted TO
lend TO the landscape the required en-
chsntment and halo.
We must confess to not being so
shocked perhaps as we ought TO have
been, at this little one-sct-0r tw0-act-
drama, whose stage setting was not the
gaudy painted screen Of the Ordinsy
drama, nor the garish conventional set
ting Of the civilized drswing-room, but
the natural romance of the wild moor
With its covering OF brown and purple
heather. The setting suited the drama,
and the drama suited the setting-snd
the whole ensemble suited the audience
or at least one Of them, and II 1t did not
please the rest, why, we are sorry for
them, for Jockey and Jennie were only
rehearsing that old drama originally
enacted in the Garden Of Eden; and
why should there be anything shocking
in the contamination Of story that be-
gan with everybOdy's grandfather and
grandmother?
Our hero and heroine could not have
belonged to the Aud Lichts, for 1t Il
said that the young men Of that ilk never
90 the length Of choosing a helpmeet
for themselves. One day young mans
friends may see him mending a washtub
for some girls mother. The next time
they see him he finds out what he WAS
doing 1t for. 1t dazes him at first, but
after while he becomes accustomed to
the idea, and some Saturday night goes
to her house. Ii she follows him TO the
door, they stare sheepishly at each other
for while, and finally he says, "Will
We hae us, lass? The lass says, SAY,
Davie," and they are engaged. The
proper course for an Aud LIGHT young
woman is to prefer the man who pro-
poses TO her, and she always takes the
first one, for it would be an uupardona-
ble sin aud disgrace for an Aud LIGHT
lassie TO have more than one beau In her
life.
At the little station of Lawriestown
the train stops fifteen minutes, and the
time Is improved by going sbout among
the quaint little dwellings and looking
in NJ their doors, which are always left
open, whether their occupants are at
| home or not, little thinking that strange