The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-12-31

of their swords-bonny, bonnyr'
And she waved her hand prettily. a.
a child does TO a pageant that passe.
below on the street with music and
banners while the soldiers marched he
mother out of her sight.
But I think it brought the water Il
the eyes of all that saw it. to watch
the mother looking back and ever bacl
at her child-and the innocent BARR
| smiling and Decking and waving hel
| little hand.
And even as we stood so, the sur
rose, and it was the new day.
CHAPTER TX.
Ny Two Curators.
The next part of the tale / will tel
briefly as 1 may. Philip Stansfield
my father, was tried and condemned
| to death according to the word of the
kings advocate. The two women with
him, Janet Mark and Robina Johnston
were sentenced to be carried away over
seas and there to be sold for slaves
in the Virginian or Carolinian planta-
lions.
Now all these three lay in the Toll
booth of Edinburgh while waiting their
several dooms, and meanwhile many
things happened to us who abode at
New Milns in the vale of Moreham. For
three or four days after the taking
away of my father 1 felt all the SEN
sations of terror as strongly as before,
but after a while the feeling was blunt
ed and in a surprising degree 1 plucked
up heart. Especially as soon as heard
that Philip Stansfield was condemned
70 death, and would never come back
to trouble US again, which. 1 take it,
is a strange thing for son to feel
about his own father.
1 was still abiding with my mother,
no more in the pleasant humming Min
house by the Weir, but instead at the
lonely little cottage of the lodge Yet,
sunk in the gloomy pines of Moreham
wood. 1 had hated it from the first,
and now took every opportunity of slip
ping off to Umphray SpurwayS mill
in the valley, where / could be happy
with the weavers and dyerS and with
all the hum and hustle of the mill go
ing blithesomely on about me.
But after while Umphray Spurway
would not permit me TO come so often
rs your mother left all alone in that
gloomy house?" he would ask, and
when told him AYE" he would frown
and shake his head and fold the webs
of cloth all wrong. So that even Will
lam Bowman wouic smile covertly. and
taking the piece out of his masters
hands would do it himself
File on you; go your ways home.
laddie," he would say. TT is not meet
that your mother. a young and fair
lady, should be thus left alone. Pshawi'
And he would knock drying rack over
with his foot and then kick it again for
falling. Whereat very gravely William
Bowman would pick it up and set the
harmless thing in its place again. know
ing his masters ways and custom when
troubled.
Then why did you send my mother
away from your house, Umphray Spur
way?" 1 would say. why did you not
ask her to sta altogether with you
much of her being lonesome in the lodge
Yeti? I did not want to go, and I am
sure that she did not
What's that-what's that?" he would
batter out, looking as if he would
knock my head off. Gods help-ask
your mother to stay, What does the
loon say? Out O. my mill with youl
Ask his mother to stay, All, would 1
not? The varlet, to speak SO. Get homo
to your mother at dogs trot or 1 will
set the bloodhounds on you. And see,
take this basket of trout with you, sir
rah. and do not dare to show your face
1T the Min house for a month OF Sun
iays."
Not to tell you how my mother liked
he trout? would adventure, for 1 was
beginning to know Umphray Spurway
rs we'll as William Bowman knew him,
and to lount upon the knowledge.
well, at any rate, let me not see
your face before tomorrow" he would |
yrumble. Il will not have boys like |
you setting my carding and spinning |,
asses by the ears and wasting my
mems time, for which / have to pay so |
lear. Get awayn'
Yet for all that I went just when 1 |
vas ready.
But / must hasten to tell who befell /
myself soon after this. while my father |
ay in the Tolmooth, under sentence of |
leath. 1 think l have not hitherto |
mentioned my Uncle John. save by in
erence, as it were, when Sir James, my
'oor grandfather, complained to his |
riend that his second son, to whom he |
lad looked to be some comfort to his
Id age. was fast following in the foot
teps of his brother.
Now, Mr.. John Stansfield was a youth
f quite different appearance from my
DOR father. For one thing he was very
hin and wire-drawn, with a pale face
lmost bloodless, as it seemed, with his
ace all pared down till it was like
ird's. with a sallow skin drawn tightly !
yer prominent cheek bones and a nose
little hooked.
He was a lawyer to his business, but
OF of the busy sort of them, like the
ray-eyed kings advocate. Sir James
)alrymple of Stair. He had never had
ny work to do in his life at his own
roper business, but with others like
i'm he spent most of his time in telling
tories to the detriment of other peo-
lie, notably of the more successful
lembers of his own profession So
,und out afterwards. for at this time
e weared but little of his leisure on
I'd like me.
For years the brothers had hated each
Their cordially, my father with the
rodigaPs contempt of the less open
inner, whom he called the lawyers :
ERIK or Blue Bags with other gross I
nd insulting names that l will not
rite here. While John said nothing to |
Is brother having a great dislike to
ows and open warfare, remembering,
70, doubtless the beatings and bully
gs he had received from his senior in
1uth. So he said nothing. only bode
IS time and supplied my grandfather
it'll everything he could hear or in
snt to the discredit of his elder son.
But after Philip Stansfeld came home
lie last time from the low countries
Id began to be shame over ali the
'untry side, there came a day when :
e brothers met 1t was at Lucky Bar
ms hotel, in the Grassmarket, where
Re north coaches stop.
Their greeting must have sounded :
range from brother to brother
Hey, deirs rattlebag. lang-nebbit.
ck, the supplanter. where away? :
md FOL ra 1r-fr, =