The Rathdrum tribune. (Rathdrum, Idaho) 1903-1963, 1922-08-11

anyway he was great hand by his
way of it, and he up and rebukit the
master for some of his ongoings. 1t
was a grand thing for the Master O.
Ballntrae to TAX up feud WI wab-
ster. wasnae's?" Macconochie would
sheer; indeed he never took the full
name upon his lips but with a sort of
whine of hatred. But he did, A
fine employ it was: chapping at the
mans door, and crying boo in his
lum, and putin poother in his fire,
and peeoys' Ca kind of firework made
with damp powder) "in his window:
till the man thocht it was auld Hornie
was come seekin him. Weel, to max
lang story short, Wully gaed gyte.
At the hinder end, they couldnae get
him frae his knees, but he just roared
and prayed and graf STRAIGHT on, till
he got his release. 1t was fair muir
der, a'body said that Ask John Paul
he was brawly ashamed O. that
game. him that's sic Christian man.
Grand doin's for the Master O. Balm
tract l asked him what the master
had thought of himself. How would
| KEMP says he. He never said
naething.' And on again in his usual
manner of banning and swearing, with
every now and then a Master of Bal
lantrae' sneered through his nose. 1t
was i'll one of these condolences that
he showed me the Carlisle letter, the
print of the horseshoe still stamped
in the paper. Indeed that was our
last confidence; for he then ex-
pressed himself so illnaturedly of Mr.
Henry that | had to reprimand him
sharply, and must thenceforth hold
him at a distance
My old lord was uniformly kind to
Mr.. Henry; he had ever pretty ways
of gratitude. and would sometimes
clap hi mon the shoulder and say, as
if to the world at large This is
very good son to me- And grateful
he was no doubt, being a man of
sense and justice. But I think that
was all, and l am sure Mr.. Henry
thought so. The love was all for the
dead son. Not that this was often
given breath to; indeed with me but
once. My lord had asked me one
day how I got on with Mr. Henry and
| had told him the truth. And "Ay,"
said he, looking sidewise on the burn
ing fire, Henry is a good lad, very
good lad" said he. you have heard,
Mr.. Mackellar, that | had another
son? | am afraid he was not so vir-
tuous a lad as Henry; but dear me,
he's dead, Mr. Mackellar! And while
he lived we were all very proud of
him, all very proud. If he was not
all he should have been in some ways,
well, perhaps we will love him bet
teri" This last he said looking mus
ingly into the fire; and then to me,
with a manner of briskness, But ]
am rejoiced to do so well with Mr..
Henry. You will find, him good
Master" And with that he opened
his book, which was the customary
signal of dismission. But it would be
little that he read and less that he
understood; Culloden field and the
Master, though. would be the burden
of his thought; and the burden of
mind was an unnatural jealousy of
the dead man for Henry's sake; that
had even then begun to grow on me.
| am keeping Mr.. Henry for the last
so that this expression of my senti-
ments may seem unwarrantably
strong; the reader shall judge for
himself when | have done. But
must first tell of another matter,
which was the means of bringing me
more intimate. | had not yet been
six months at Durrisdeer when it
CHANGED that Mr. Paul fell sick and
must keep his bed drink was the root
of his malady, in my poor thought;
but he was tended and indeed car
ried himself like an afflicted saint;
and the very minister, who came to
visit him, confessed himself edited
when he went away The third morn
ing of his sickness, Mr.. Henry came
to me with something of hangdog
look
"Mackellar,' says he, Il wish W
could trouble you upon little serv-