The Durham recorder. [volume] (Durham, N.C.) 1879-19??, 1899-02-09
A BONNIE LASSIE.

ing back little incident that occurred
fully 80 years ago. My school days
were just over, and | had crossed the
sea to Canada, to make my home with
near relatives--a Presbyterian minister
and his wife. The manse was humble
one, tic stipend small and the 'sde
LASS or maid Of all work, young.
This "de Lass was the danghterof
q respectable Scotch farmer. Maggie,
in personal appearance, was lovely,
slight in figure, fair skinned, fair haired,
with the bloom of blush rose on her
cheeks, rosebud mouth and large
beautiful blue eyes that literally looked
like yioIet, with the dew on them,
She was, as became an elders daugh-
ter, ''as good as she was bonnie" and
as grave as she was good. Maggie's
"auld farrant" ways were indeed a
source of amusement even to the heads
of the house. Her dress was as sober as
her behavior. She did, remember, in
dulge in white ribbon for her "Sab.
bath bonnet, but then the Sonnet itself
had been her mothers; SO had the Pals.
ley shawl which hid the pretty figure
She was but l6 or II at the time she
sported this gala attire.
Well, Maggie, though SO grave, was
happy, and had, like many happy peo-
pie, way of singing as she went about
her work. She hummed to herself over
the bread heard or washtub, and when
she sat down with her knitting in the
evenings she put her Bible on the table
beside her, for reference presumably,
although she had an excellent memory,
and sang psalm after psalm. Para
phrases she regarded as Barrie's Little
Minister regarded them.
Sometimes, as fancied, had caught
the strains Of something lighter than q
psalm of David, was SO convinced Of
this that when Maggie informed me
one day that she regarded all songs ex.
cept sacred ones sinful. i mentioned the
circumstance. Maggie was so hurt, Sc
scandaIized. that was puzzled. II was
difficult to- doubt my own ears, but even
more difficult TO doubt her sincerity.
She assured me she would just as soon
be guilty Of dancing or playing cards,
and her knowledge of evil went ne
further.
About q week after this conversation
the head of the house had gone out to Q
tea party, and was preparing to follow
them, when there foated up from the
kitchen steps, where Maggie sat sew
ing, the strains of the very song the
schoolboy whistled today. rushed
down in triumph. II thought you nev,
or sang any but sacred songsW cried !.
THE blusu rose Geepeied iDto 1anask,
but not with guilt. Beside her, popped
up against her workbasket, was dainty
little card, with the words and music
Of the song framed in q garland Of tht
flower it praised. She looked from ms
to it and from it to me. "And do IT,
she simply asked.
"Do your" repeated in fine scorn
"Pray, what's that?" and ! seized th'
card.
Maggie looked quite bewildered
"And is that not q sacred song?" sait
she. @~
"A sacred fildlestick, "said /. "Wh,
do you suppose the rose ISL
'Is't no the Rose o. Sharon' " sh'
asked, tears gathering In her violet eyes
"The Rose of Sharon indeedp
cried I. 81 should think it isn't. Why
what do you make of this:
"Rut there's a rose In yonder glen
That shuns the gaze Of other men.
oh, that's the rose for mel"
"Has IL no. speeritooal significa
tion?" asked Maggie, with quiverinI
lips.
| "Not bit Of 1t. IL means sweet
heart"
"Are ye sure?" she asked slowly, a
IL the idea were intolerable.
"Quite, said |. ASK Mrs. w, whel
she comes hcme."
Maggie was speechless. Her breas
heaved, her lips quivered; but she wa
not the kind Of person to indulge Ii
tears before others. Girl as / was, |
began to dawn upon me that haI
made discord, had, like the child VIII
rudely handles a butterfy's wing
broken something beyond my power +
repair.
"It's not bic of harm" said |, b,
way of comfort.
But Maggie would not be comforted
"It's harm for me, she said.
"But you thought 1t meant the Ros
off,
"Oh, dinnar' she cried In real pain
"That's just what hurts maist" there
tear rolled down each burning cheek
"It meant what you said, and, oh,
thocht 1t meant himl" And then ha
TO leave her.
Circumstances took me far away fror
Maggie, but / am glad TO be able TO So
that she did not, like so many Of Oh
good young people In books, sink into
decline and an early grave, or hide her
self In convent. The world has nee
Of such people. She married a neighboi
ing farmer, man as old as her fathe
! and as grave, and bore herself meekl
and dutifully as a wife and sang be
babies to sleep with Scottish psalms.
have not heard Of any Of them for man
year. But the pain Of that lament
"oh, thoct 1t was him" comes bao
to me today and I realize tho tende
reverence that inspired II and the rar
purity Of tho young heart that held bu
one Image and dreamed Of only on
love. New York Observer.
A Craving For Starch.