The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1902-10-08


When the jig was finished, Sandy
called for "Lochaber No More" but
Campbell said:
NO, no; I cannot play that tonight.
Mr.. Craig will play"
Craig took the violin, and at the first
note l knew he was no ordinary play
er did not recognize the music, but
it was soft and thrilling and got in by
| the heart till every one was thinking
his tenderest and saddest thoughts.
After he had played two or three ex-
quisite bits he gave Campbell his 7io-
lin, saying, "Now. 'Lochaber,' Lach-
| lam"
Without a word Lachlan began, not
'Lochaber"- was not ready for that
yet-but THE Flowers O the Forest
and from that wandered through
"Auld Robin Gray" and 'The Land @
the Leal," and so got at last to that
most soul subduing Of Scottish Ia
ments, "Lochaber No More" At the
first strain his brother, who had thrown
himself on some blankets behind the
fire, turned over on his face, feigning
sleep Sandy McNaughton took his
pipe out of his mouth and sat up
straight and stiff, staring into vacancy,
and Graeme, beyond the fire, drew a
short, sharp breath. We had often sat,
Graeme and I, in our student days, in
the drawing room at home, listening
to his father wailing out "Lochaber''
upon the pipes, and l we'll knew that
the awful minor strains were now eat
ing their way into his soul.
Over and over again the highlander
played his lament. He had long since
forgotten US and was seeing visions Of
the hills and lochs and glens Of his far
away native land and making US, too,
see strange things out Of the dim past.
I glanced at old man Nelson and was
startled at the eager, almost piteous,
look in his eyes, and wished Camp
bell would stop. Mr.. Craig caught my
eye and, stepping over to Campbell,
held out his hand for the violin. Lin
geringly and lovingly the highlander
drew out the last strain and silently
gave the minister his instrument.
Without moments pause and while
the spell Of "Lochaber" was still upon
US the minister, with exquisite skill,
fell into the refrain Of that simple and
beautiful camp meeting hymn, ''The
Sweet By and By" After playing the
verse through once he sang softly the
refrain. After the first verse the men
Joined in the chorus, at first timidly,
but by the time the third verse was
reached they were shouting with
throats full open, eve shall meet on
that beautiful shore" When looked
at Nelson, the eager light had gone out
of his eyes, and in it's place was kind
Of determined hopelessness, as if in
this new music he had 10 part.
After the voices had ceased Mr.. Craig
played again the refrain, more and
more softly and slowly. Then, laying
the violin on Campbell's knees, he drew
from his pocket his little Bible and
said:
"AIen, with Mr.. Graeme's permission,
want to read you something this
Christmas eve. You will all have heard
it before, but you will like it none the
less for that"
His voice was soft, but clear and pen
etrating as he read the eternal story Of
the angels and the shepherds and the
Babe, and as be read slight motion
of the hand or q glance Of an eye made
US see, as he was seeing, that whole
radiant drama. The wonder, the timid
Joy, the tenderness, the mystery Of 1t
all, were borne in upon us with over
powering effect. He closed the book
and in the same low, clear voice went
on to tell US how, in his home years
ago, lie used to stand on Christmas eve
listening in thrilling delight to his
mother telling him the story, and how
she used to make him see the shepherds
and hear the sheep bleating near by,
and how the sudden burst of glory used
to make his heart jump.
s'I used to be little afraid Of the
angels, because boy told me they
were ghosts, but my mother told me
better, and 1 didn't fear them any
more. And the Baby, the dear little
Baby-we all love baby"
There was a quick, dry sob. It was
from Nelson.
"I used to peek through under to see
the little one in the straw and wonder
what things swaddling clothes were.
Oh, it was all so real and beautiful"
He paused, and / could hear the men
breathing.
But one Christmas e7e," he went on
in a lower, sweeter tone, "there was
no one to tell me the story, and grew
to forget it and went away to college
and learned to think that it was only
child's tale and was not for men.
Then bad days came to me, and worse,
and 1 began to lose my grip Of myself,
Of life, Of hope, Of goodness, till one
black Christmas, in the slums Of far
away city, when I had given up all
and the devils arms were about me,
heard the story again, and as l listen
ed, with bitter ache in my heart, for
I had put it all behind me, 1 suddenly
found myself pceking under the shep-
herds arms with child's wonder at
the Baby in the straw. Then it came
over me like great waves that his
name was Jesus, because it was ne
that should save men from their sins.
Save! Save! The waves kept beating
upon my ears, and before l knew l
had called out, oh, can he save me"
It was in little mission meeting on
one Of the side streets, and they SEEM
cd to be used to that sort OF thing
there, for no one was surprised, and a
young fellow leaned across the aisle
to me and said, WHY, you just bet ne
cam His surprise that I should doubt
his bright face ard confident tone, gave
me hope that perhaps it might be so.
held 10 that hope with all my soul,
and" stretching up his arms and with