Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1916-03-30
WOMAN WHO WATTS
SADDENS BONNY SCOTIA
Ellen Adair Describes Changes
Wrought by War in the
Highlands
written Specially for EVENING LEDGER.
BY ELLEN ADAIR

GLENCOE, Scotland, March 17-Such
queer, sad times in Scotland nowadays
And perhaps the saddest thing OF all Is
the look on the face Of the Woman Who
Waits. see that look at every turn in
Scotland.
Here in one of the widest and loneliest
Highland glens, far from tho sound OF
railroad trains but never far enough for
sorrow not to follow, there's the old
tragedy-and the Woman Who Waits
The train known as THE Flying Scots
man" carried me rar north from Edin-
burgh through the Highlands on to In
verorchy, and then I drove by coach to
beautiful Glencoe The hills were gray
with mist that shifted silently about their
crests, and at every turn of the lonely
road new glories of scenery sprang into
view.
"Such changes since tho war began"
said the old man in his hesitating un-
accustomed English; ITS n bigger silence
in the glen than ever, you'll be finding"
No noise but the rush Of the mountain
torrents and the eerie calling of the cur
lews. / have always thought Glencoe
sort Of Paradise-but now the vast silence
is heart-breaking So must the scattered
homesteads have looked after the Great
Massacre of 1892, when on just such an
evening as this the MacDonalds, of Glen
coe were murdered by an enemy.
At the top of the steep flve-mile descent
we halted, and the old driver got down to
strengthen his brakes with ancient shoes.
THE last time you were here was on n
fishing holiday" he said ut was happy
days those were, before the war began.
There's only the old folk like myself left
now. The Glencoe lads were always fight
ers--born fighters. They're all gone, and
every home throughout the glens in
mourning for some lad killed"
In the wide valley have many friends,
for the Highanders are kindly simple
folk and never forget n visitor. "Hark!
Listen to Donald the Piper" said the old
coachman, strainmg to bring his horses to
n halt, there he walks all day long, up
and down outside his hut, playing the very
heart and soul out OF himself. His eldest
son was killed at Loos, and playings all
the comfort left to him"
Through the great empty glen re-echoed
the saddest' of Highland laments. 'Loch-
aber No More" AS we passed the little
cottage we saw the player. Such an old.
bent man, yet walking with such martial
air ''IIe was a great fighter in his
day." said the coachman, land It's back
on the battlefield he is nowT
At Queens House Inn we halted and
pretty chambermaid opened the door Two
years ago 1 remembered her as the bon
NEST sonsiest lass in the glen," given to
muCn ualllunCe at tne DaCR door OF nights
and courted by all the rustic gallants of
the place. Now she has lost her roses
and on her face, too, is the look of the
Woman Who Waits. They're all gone"
she said brokenly, twisting her apron in
her hands, "and the one l ave liked best
s-reported-among the missing"
No need to ask for news of Angus. The
tale was told in those five words. Some
where in France" lay all that was left of
the only son. the light gone from his eyes
forever and the kindly humorous twist
from lips now set in sterner line. On
his mothers face was the frozen look of
the Woman Who Waits But the old
father turned and spoke. as though
fiercely challenging, yet with mouth that
trembled. "D'ye hear?" he said. Lord
Kitchener sends his sympathy! The high
est honor and the finest death
it's proud I am /" His
voice broke, then trailed away into
silence.
Poor empty Highlands OF Scotland
There are times when the woman left be-
hind yearns for the old far-off days when
civilization was unknown, and man and
woman used to fight together, side by side
For the greatest tragedy lies in merely
waitlng"-and the saddest heart is to be
found in the Woman Who Waits.