The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1899-06-17
Annie Laurie.
By venita Seibert.
HMaxwelton Braes are bonnie,

"Her brow is like the snowdrift,
Her throat is like the swan,
Her face, it is the fairest
That e'er the sun shone onl
That e'er the sun shone on,
And dark blue are her ee,
AND for bonnio Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doun and deei
"Like dew on the gowan falling
Is the IA o. her fairy feet,
Like winds in the summer signing
Her voice is low and sweet
Their eyes met. The girl felt that he
was singing to her and a thrill penetrated
10 her inmost SOU. Her eyes did not
fall, but something in their clear depths
responded to his appeal, and the last
lines rang out with passionate tenderness
and deep meaning:
"Rer voice is low and sweet,
And she's a the world to mel
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doun and deeio
The song ended abruptly. Arnold
wheeled round from the piano. He
wanted to leap over it to the side Of
the girl who had so moved him, but the
room was full Of people, and he waited
quietly until she could be introduced to
him.
She was the daughter Of his host. Her
name, which should have been Annie,
was Grace. 1t was just as well. She
was grace personified. He put her hand
on his arm and led her out to the moon
lit porch. Not many words passed be-
tween them. They understood each
other without words, these two. Their
courtship had been music. Grace said
afterward that she had been wooed and
won in a song.
Like a poem their love story glided on.
They were married, and not the slightest
cloud darkened the sky of their happi-
ness, which they thought was perfect
until the coming of their little girl taught
them the mystery of perfection within
perfection.
They called the little one Annie Lau-
RE and watched her growth with end
less delight.
Then the %wondrous music ceasedS
henceforth the strains were in a sobbing
minor key. Arnold died, and his widow
bowed her head. She was content, she
said; she had had a lifetime's happiness
concentrated into two erfeet years. And
so she held her little girl close nor dream
ed that she had yet to complete her les
son and learn that there was a sorrow
within a sorroY.
.
1t was a summer night, and little Annie
Laurie was playing in the great parlor,
with the moonlight streaming in through
the open windows. Her mother sat at
the piano singing, as she had SO often
sung before, .sAnnie Laurie"
What memories that song held for her.
1t was their song, his and hers, and it
seemed to bring him closer to the heart
whose y~earning never ceased.
Here he had sat when she had seen
him first. How his voice had thrilled,
and how her heart had responded! And
here he had sat times without number
since that first night and looked across
at her with the lovelight in his eyes.
And now she sat alone singing his
song to comfort her sore heart. Her
sweet plaintive voice filed the parlor
with it's penetrating sadness.
The child listened and forgot to play.
She knew that she was Annie Laurie,
and her namma san to her often.
When her mothers head dropped for
ward on the piano, the little one stole
quietly out through the open window and
wandered down the road. She trotted on
a long, long way. Her little feet grew
very tired, and the big sobs began to
m
Suddenly a woman sprang from the
roadside and ciasped the child in her
arms.
MY little Laura! l knew the good
Lord would send you back to me! /
knew Nhe wouldn't take way the only
thing I've got in the world. My little
Lauraiv
The moonlight lit up her haggard face
and wild, dark eyes, but the child did
not know the meaning of fear and al
lowed herself to be kissed and cuddled
without wonder. With trembling fingers
the woman took off the child's dress
and arrayed her in the little garments she
had been pressing to her bosom a few
moments before.
Then she went IN her way in feverish
haste, carrying in her arms the now sleep
ing child. They journeyed far that night
and the next day, getting lifts on their
way in farmers carts and market wag-
ons. The woman guarded the child with
jealous care. and IL she acted strangely
each man preferred to leave his neighbor
to Investigate the case.
BY nightfall of the second day the
woman fell in the doorway of a farm
house and could go no farther. She told
an incoherent story. She had been sick
and had run away from her husband,
who had beatcn her, and her little girl
Laura died. but the Lord had given her
back agaia. They saw that she vas
quite insane with fever and suffering,
and when she died a few days later they
buried her in the little graveyard With
much further inquiry.
The child cried for her mamma and
said her name was "Lollie." Poor little
waif!s The farmer and his wife kept her.
and she grew up with their own chill
dren.
She was a lonely little creature, Cell
cately made. different from the sturdy
farmers children, who looked down on
her with a wee bit Of condescension that
was full OF pain to her sensitive soul.
Often she placed flowers on the IN
marked grave Ia the little hillside grave
yard, but very early she came to think
that the woman who slept beneath was
not her mother. The strange question,
WHO am IL" filled her childish heart.
She bore not the slightest resemblance
to the dark cred, large featured face Of