Morris tribune., 1902-07-12

close in the historic Cowgate, redolent
of the various odors of the evil smell
ing present. I was there to hear Mrs.
Mavor sing to the crowd of gamins
| that thronged the closes in the neigh
borhood and that had been gathered
into a club by "a fine leddie frae the
west end' for the love of Christ and
his lost This was an eat home" night,
and the mothers and fathers, sisters
| and brothers, Of all ages and sizes,
were present. OF all the sad faces
| had ever seen those mothers carried
the saddest and most woe stricken.
Heaven pity us!' I found myself say
| ing. SIS this the beautiful, the cul-
| tured, the heaven exalted city of Edin-
! burgh? Will it not for this be cast
down into hell some day if it repent
not Of it's closes and their dens of de-
Element? Oh, the utter Weariness the
dazed hopeIessness, Of the CHASTITY
faces! Do not the kindly, gentle
churchgOing folk of the crescents and
the gardens see them in their dreams,
or are their dreams too heavenly for
these CHASTITY faces to appear?
cannot recall the programme of the
evening, but in my memory gallery is
vivid picture Of that face, sweet,
sad, beautiful, aHght with the deep
glow Of her eyes, as she stood and sang
to that dingy crowd. AS l sat upon the
window ledge listening to the voice
with its flowing song my thoughts were
far away, and l was looking down
once more upon the eager, coal grimed
faces in the rude little church in Black
Rock. l was brought back to find my
self swallowing hard by an audible
whisper from a wee lassie to her moth
er:
"Mither! See till yon man. He's
greetin'."
When l came to myself, she was
singing "The Land O. the Leal," the
Scotch Jerusalem, the Golden" i'm
mortal, perfect. 1t needed experience
Of the hunger haunted CoWgate closes,
chill with the black mist Of an eastern
haar, to feel the full bliss of the vision
Of the words:
There's neither cauId nor care, Jean; |
The day is aye fair in
The Land O. the Leal."
A land Of fair warm DAYS untouched |
D. sorrow and care, would be heaven |
indeed to the jewellers Of the Cowgate. |
The rest of that evening is hazy |
enough to me now till l find myself !
opposite Mrs. M&v0r ut her fire, read
n
again.
could not keep the truth from her.
knew it would be folly to try. SO
read straight on till l came to the
words: He has had mountain fever,
whatever that may be. and he will not
pull up again. If can, I shall take
him home to my MOTHER" when she
stretched out her hand, say
ing, oh, let me read" and | gave her
the letter. In q minute she had read
it and began almost breathlessly:
"Listen. My life is much changed
My mOther-in-laW is gone. She needs
me no longer. My solicitor tells me-
too, that, owing to unfortunate invest
ments, there is need of money, SO
great need that it is possible that Ell
Their the estates or the works must go
My cousin has his al in tho works
ron works, you know 1t %SEld be
wrong to have him suffer. I shall
give up the estates. That is BEST"
She paused "7 es-tse2s4g e4ar~7~'
"And come with mev' 1 cried.
"When do you sail?"
"Next week." | answered eagerly.
She looked at me a few moments,
and into her eyes there came a light
soft and tender as she said:
81 shall go with you"
And so she did, and no old Roman in
Ill the glory Of triumph carried a
orouder heart than l as bore her and
her little one from the train to
draeme's carriage, crying:
1--we got herr
But his was the better sense, for be
stood waving his hat and shouting,
He's all right" at which Mrs. Mavor
With him the red was in her cheek
lgain.
FIt was the cable did it," went on
3raeme "Connor's a great DOCTOR
lis first case will make him famous
Good prescription-afte mountain fe-
'er try a cablegram"
And the red grew deeper in the beau
iful face beside us.
Never did the country look so love-
Y. The woods were in their gayest
autumn dress; the brown fields were !
'athed in a purple haze; the air was
weet and fresh with a suspicion of
he coming frosts of winter. But in
pte Of all the road seemed long, and s
t was as if hours had gone before our
yes fell upon the white manse stand
ne among the golden leaves. {
LET them go" cried as Graeme
'aused to take in the view, and down
he sloping dusty road we flew on the
cad run.
"Reminds one a little Of Abe's
urves" said Graeme as we drew up ]
t the gate, but l answered him not,
10 Oh |