Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1910-09-24

Once year she spent gay month
in the mountains with her aunt, who
begged Celia never to speak Of her
work and to do her best to make, u
suitable match.
But Celia's Ideas Of suitable
match did not agree with those OF her
aunt, and after four summers OF
gayety Celia still dug away IN musty
library books and ancient records.
Celia went to her task of finding
Andrew cPherson's lost ancestors
with enthusiasm She liked tracing
genealogies, and there was an added
zest in tracing, under safe cover OF,
p. O. box 172, the lineage OF some one
she knew-and Andrew MACPHERSON
at that.
With the information which An
drew, 4 unsuspicious, forwarded to her,
Celia managed to trace his ancestors
from the pioneer times in Michigan
back to a landing in Virginia, and
then over the seas and back to the
days of one Andrew, laird Of the Mac
Phersons ancestral hall in the Scotch
Highlands. It was really a very In
teresting line OF ancestors that she
arranged In neat, typewriter array
bver several sheets Of foolscap.
But at the end of her search Celia
came upon trouble. at first she
thought she had made great ind,
for in an old record she came across
verse of many stanzas about e. boid
Scotch knight named Andrew, OF the
house of MacPhersons, and fa1r
lady whose name and history nobody
knew. but who captivated the bold:
knight. They were about to be mar
ried when ore moonlight night at the
edge Of a lake the knight asked the
lady who she was.
"The lady's eyes were ocean blue; ner
brow was lilies fair;
Her lips gave forth the roses hue,
and sunlight was her hair,
sang the ditty. But when she opened
her rosy lips and told the knight tnat
she was humble peasant maiden ne
was SO enraged that she should think
of marrying knight of his degree
that he clapped his hands and sum
moned a mystic boat, which carried
her over the lake into darkness and
oblivion.
what an awful mar to have for
an ancestor thought Celia. The
story would be good reading, but It's
only legend, ! suppose. just wont
put 1t in" So without this romattc
addition Celia forwarded the genealo-
gy Of the proud house OF MacPnerson
and waited for summer.
In radient expectancy Celia went
to the mountains, and took all her
aunt's advice add seedlings Win
laughing good grace.
Andrew arrived as he had planned,
and the two weeks OF MS vaca11on
were even happier than he had dared
hope. Celia welcomed MIN frankly,
and as the days passed their 1riend-
ship progressed so far that Andrew
took heart. ~
He had the modesty to leave his
family tree at home, tor ne reanzed
that it would seem Ike idle boasttng
to show 1t to Celia But he never
told Ter how poor he was. He knew,
it wss cowardly, but he could not
tell her-Celia, who seemed to have
everything that money and riches
could give her.
Celia remembered her aunt's ad-
vice, and guiltily kept still about her
work. Ho- could. a nan like Andrew
Mac Pherson, prosperous and well 10
do az a man must be to spend MS
vacation at such a place, take any IN
terest. in a girl that, had to look up
other peoples genealogies to support
herself.
The last day of Andrews stay
came and he and Celia spent the
evening canoeing on the lake. !.
,,lr al a
together at the waters edge, taxing a
last looI: at the moonlit lake. Il am
going back tomorrow. Before | go
must tell you what came up mere
to tell you. didn't suppose there
was any hope for man like me
YOU. " IN money, and friends, ana
everything any one could have. But
Won are different from every or ,
else up here; you're so genuine and
honest AS you stand there IN the
moonlight. leila, you're like the sun
shine and the ocean and everything
that is wholesome and true.
Celia stood rigid. A moment be-
fore she had known what she would
say when Andrew made his plee. The
fact that he did not know she was
moor and worked did not seem to
matter. But the words sunshine and
ocean ought back the untimely fate
of the poor little peasant sir, and
Celia seemed to see, not pleading
Young .necican lover, but grim
Scotch knight before her. The lap
ping of the waves seemed to be the
oars Of the mystic boat which was to
bear her to oblivion once her identity
was known.
Don't" said Celia. ooh, Please
take care Of me-" she whispered as
the wind blew the water splashing on
the shore. Don't you see, | cannot
i.sten to yours? I've been decietful.
I'm dreadfully poor, and ! have to
work to take care Of myself. | do
genealogies. l did yours. I'm P. O..
box 172. But didn't want you to
know was poor.
Celia" said Andrew, taking her in
his arms, celia, you're not poor
Then, as she struggled, sobbing, to
free herself, Celia, I'm glad. I'm
poor, too"
"some day." said Celia, few hours