The river press. [volume] (Fort Benton, Mont.) 1880-current, 1912-12-18
A LEGEND OF the
MISTLET0E BOUGiI

weird of Barham Hall had never
once given a sign Of coming INTO full
| fllment. so what need wuS there ter
fear: 1t was true that mistlt'oe wHs
at last growing on the loughs .! the
old hawthorn in the Vote sWnId. l'Ht
It was Christmas eve. Il the bells ct
Barham church We're ringing Chriss
mas chimes.
More than 100 years ago Roger l.yn
dale had done that which perhaps was
not an honorable thing. Roger had
wooed a farmers daughter. but had
not married her. and she had died IT
his gates. Across the grass levels.
now covered with snow. the Old farm
house could still be seen, mute with
it's history.
Not a soul Of Druscilla I've tim"
was alive in the old homestead,
Strangers were under it's roof paying
tribute to Barhnm Hall, as DrnScilla'S
father had done.
But the descendants of Roger Lyn
dale were still at the hall. with a INK
between them and the story OF the o'd
Vote farm,
FOE. SlIilSclH CiIoNShsr 80 ''>
died on Christmas eve. n the legend
of Barham Hall had come from her
lips:
When mistletoe grows on the old Vote
thorn
No child to a Lyndale will e'er be born.
So she had p~rophesied. and the pre-
diction meant that when the white
berry could be plucked from the Ola
hawthorn standing alone on the green
sweep of the Vote sward of Barham
park the race of Lyndale would be
come extinct.
And now at last mistletoe was gro"
ing on the old thorn!
Yet there We're laughter and gayetF
in the hall. The great open fireplace
in the wainscot room was heaped up
with glowing. cracking Yule logs. and
all was a bright sparkle Of merriment
and good cheer.
Yet there was some little awe after
all, although it had been cast off like a
cloak thrown into a corner. for the
legend at it's worst was not without
qualification. It had a second couplet
which ran:
But he that would nobly this curse undo
Must lowly maid wed and to her be true.
When that saving grace was attach
ed to the legend and when the weirc
had beer worn out by the passing of 6
century what was there to fear?
"Good gracious! What is that?" eS
claimed Lady Lyndale suddenly. mo
the choir again surely! They've BEEF
and gone"
A voice was singing:
'When mistletoe grows on the old Yot
thorn
No child to a Lyndale will e'er be born.
But he that would nobly this curse undo
Must lowly maid wed and to her be true
1t was the weird. and it was beini
SUNG by a woman's voice to the re
frain of 1.-The Mistletoe Bough."
What could it mean?
sit must be somebody" said Rolan
Lyndale when it became certain tina
the voice had finished. "I'lt see VIII
1t is"
With the words he crossed the room
drew aside the curtains of one of tn
windows and looked out upon tn
snow.
Its strange" murmured Rolant
turning to his father. who still sat b.
side the hearth. There's nc one her
SIR"
NO" replied Sir Godfrey; II di
not expect there would be. 1t We
some impertinent person from the vi
lage, that is evident"
"Leo and Dorothy should be almo
here now" said Lady Lyndale pre-
emily. II wonder whether it is tt
snow that's made them late"
The butler appeared and handed Ly
dale a telegram.
"Is it bad news, Geoffrey?" askt
Lady Lyndale.
Eyes, Millicent." he replied in a d
tone. LEO has been taken i'll wi
pneumonia, a fearful thing at al
time, and he's not strong. You c:
see." he added, handing the MESA!
to his wife. dorothy says she'll wi
at once If 1t becomes critical"
The children still laughed and pla
ed, but the elders became grave.
"Poor old Lionel! l hope he "
pull through It," Lyndale murmured
an uneasy voice.
Not many Lyndales were left. T
stricken Lionel was Sir Geoffre.
only brother. and Roland was his or
son.
Roland Lyndale had parted from
airy spirits. Ever since the incide
Of the voice he had been In a change
subdued mood.
And when dinner was owe he fou
an opportunity to steal out into t
snowy night.
There were footprints there. o.
the shrubs had prevented his sect
the strange visitor when he oper
the window.
Which way had the singer gone?
For some moments Roland ste
las glancing from spot to spot.
Over the face Of the moon the sn
clOudS had now fitted. hut ROla