Year: 1878

l gladly accepted an offer made, me by a friend I to go for few months in Summer to take charge of parish in the West Highlands, a remote district on the sea-coast.

 In order to appreciate thoroughly the beauty of the scenery to which 1 went, and realize the sense of exquisite freshness given by the sea -breezes one must have suffered as 1 had suffered from the constant dirt and smoke which made open windows almost forbidden pleasure. How had longed and panted for fresh air and here the very act of breathing was pleasure. As health returned, l began to wander far and wlde, and one day l found myself exploring long stretch of moor, seem- ingly interminable. Heather, not yet in full 1 bloom, and countless marsh flowers, were mingled together; piles of peat were drying in I the wind-all this lay before me and around ] me, on the one hand, while, on the other, far below my feet, the sea lay sparkling as each rave caught the sunlight on it's crest. Opthe opposite coast rose the beautiful hills of Skye l the breeze swept the clouds overhead fast, and 1 their shifting lights and shadows made their forms seem ever new; myriads of sea-birds whirled high above me, screaming to each oth- CT in ceaseless uproar larks sang joyously | through it all and all the time the grand monotony of the rolling waters breaking upon | the rocks chanted an accompaniment. | After walking some distance l came to one | of those sudden breaks in the land forming a narrow glen. It was watered by a burn charg- l ed with the brown memory of a peaty soil through which it passed, and growing purer and clearer as it filtered through the stones, l leaping over others as the descent grew deeper tin it fell in one lovely glittering shower into | the sea.

 The ground rose abruptly on either side of it, and on the banks all the way down prim- roses grew in utmost profusion-late primroses, such as can rarely be found elsewhere, with | such exquisite freshness such long stems and luxuriant leaves their very look brought a sudden sense of coolness and Spring tide Be side them, in somewhat stately beauty, tall fox gloves reared their heads; just coming in to bloom and of every imaginable hue-pure white, delicate pink, with splashes of darker color in their hearts, and beautiful crimson, with dainty brown pencilings. Ferns grew in their tenderest greens; club moses showed every gradation of tint from richest emerald to silver green; a few silver-stemmed birch trees Tipped and moved, swayed by the wind, and forming lovely contrast to some sturdy, stiff Scotch pines that stood at the head of the glen as though they were it's sentinels

 Near these pines, and sheltered by a rising ground behind it, stood shieling or cottage humbly built, but with evidences of unusual care in it's surroundings. Nothing of the un- Iudt SptdhS Ol d uuTClcU lllG WdS IlclS; paling almost concealed by honey suckle and the common Ayrshire rose, fenced the little garden more honeysuckle was trained against the wall ; and the windows stood wide open. It was the only sign of man or his habitation l had seen in my walk, and as 1 sat down on the bank to rest and sat my luncheon, l won dered if the people living in this solitude were in any way influenced by the beauty which surrounded them or whether they lived unap- preciative lives not knowing that their Hines" had fallen in such pleasant places"

 In moment or two my thoughts were, in measure, answered the door of the cottage opened, and girl came out with dish under her arm piled with clothes she had been wash ing. She paused for moment, as though little daZzled by the sun, and looked round as if she thoroughly enjoyed the beauty that lay about her {; and then, with swift, light step, she came down the bank till she stood on a flat stone close to where the burn was imprison- ed in a sort of pool. Setting down the clothes, she began to rinse them in the clear water and wiring them out, then holding them up she shook them out, one by one, aud threw them on the bank. It was the homeliest pos sible occupation, and her dress differed in nothing from the dress of most Highland girls short linsey petticoat, a jacket of some wash ing material, with the sleeve rolled high up above the elbow but her gestures were full of grace, and her hair was of a rich ruddy brown, that shed a sort of light round her head, and reminded me of old pictures had seen.

 l was unwilling to remain so near her with out letting her know of my presence, so l rose and went down to the bank to speak to her. She answered me with the utter absence of self consciousness and with the simple directness possessed by all fine natures her manner was reserved but kindly, and her voice was low toned and musical. She was not beautiful, if beauty depends upon feature and outline, but she had most interesting and pathetic expres- sion in her dark eyes; and when she smiled, her face lighted up wonderfully. She offeredm me refreshment, which I declined, but accepted her invitation to rest for little while in the cottage.

 There is no use in trying to account for the interest claimed by one stranger when many pass by unheeded but from the first, before l knew her, felt that this girl had a history, and that in some way she had suffered, and borne nobly. The cottage at first, seemed dark after the sunshine but as my eyes became ac- customed to the sdbdued light, saw the figure of an old woman lying on bed at the far thest end of the room. 1 had never seen any one living so utterly devoid of color as she was hair and face were Misunderstanding but the keen restless look of her eyes, and the in

 

 ly knitting, spoke of life.

 The girl went up to her, and told her in a low voice who 1 was, and then placed chair for meby the bedside ]; and as I sat down, I felt conscious of a peculiar feeling, as though in the presence of some wierd being, and sat silent for little by the side of this motionless figure under the gaze of those piercing and | questioning eyes. When she spoke it was in | shrill whisper that seemed to reverberate | through the room in manner absolutely start | ling.

 asked if she had been long lying there, | and with a little sigh she said, ''Near eleven years"

 Docs your grand daughter always live with you ?" I asked.

 She looked at me quickly. s'Do ye mean Jean She's no my granddaughter she's | only Jean" M

 'sOnly Jean." thought it seemed strange way of naming the active-looking girl before me, moving to and fro so quietly about house. l hold matters but 1t was not said unkindly. 1 Was it my fancy, or did brighter color come into her face as she heard the words:

 1 staid sometime there and the old wom- l an (whose name found was Elspeth, com monly called widow Grant,, did not ask me to return, she looked pleased when I offered l to do so; and left the place, interestedin my new acquaintance, Jean showing me quicker but not so beautiful way home, across the moor.

 l CHAPTER H.

 The parishioners of whom I was now in charge lived in widely scattered houses, and I could not help often contrasting their lives with the lives of my own people in the south.

 There, everything was contracted and small space was our most needed thing-families

 were huddled together in houses, made more dirty and wretched by what is called a ''com- mon stair" and whichit was therefore no one's

 business to keep clean, and though an inspec- tion was made now and then by Sanitary Com.

 missioners, and charitable people did their best, there are thousand ways in which sanitary

 laws can be evaded and charitable people,

 with few notable exceptions, have the most

 unhappy knack of assisting the wrong people.

 Who can blame them ? As rule the deserv- l ing poor are exactly those who shrink from

 help. and who, with handful of meal and

 hardly potato left, show brave face to the

 world, and allow no necessity to appear.