Year: 1876

THE BROKEN PRIMROSES.


Among all the flowers that make the
country beautiful, / think that none
have such tender place in memory as
the primrose. Whoever passed the
months of spring in the country in child
hood, who cannot recall how joyously
the first appearance of the favOrite was
hailed, and its opening watched as its
buds peeped from among the thick green
leaves under the shade of brier bush,
or around the roots of wide branching
ash tree, or on the tiny shelves of the
hoary rock?


To see even bunch of artificial prim-
roses on a pretty young lady's bonnet
seems to me to give touch of poetry to
the wearer; while TO see them worn by
a matron about to enter into the sere
and yellow leaf period looks like the ripe
months of September or October wearing
the livery Of spring. They seem more
in keeping even on the silvery locks of
old age for an early primrose may bios
som on the brow of winter. But to our
story.


The laird of certain Highland estate,
which we will call Achaneileau, was early
left fatherless, but was carefully trained
by a wise, although doting mother.
Sir Evan was fine, high.spirited young
man, who gave her the very highest sat
isfaction in all things, excepting in the
wandering habits he had early formed.
He would often dress himself in the
strangest disguises and mingle with his
tenants, taking leading share in their
games and pastimes. During his strolls
he frequently gazed with delight upon
such panoramas as that so beautifully
delineated in ga Mountain Scene In
Scotland "a view not uncommon in the
Highlands.


Sir Evans mother, knowing his high
and honorable nature, was never afraid
of his doing anything wrong, at such
times, but she thought his conduct un-
from this strange habit, she tried to in
fluence him to get married. With this
object in view she gathered around her,
both in London and at home, all the
young ladies she most admired; but her
efforts seemed in vain. Sir Evan was
courteous and attentive to all her guests,
but he was still fancy free; and sne
loved him too tenderly to wish to see
him married without sincere attach
ment. She knew the requirements of
his nature, and understood, therefore,
that loveless marriage would only drive
him further into the wandering habits
from which she wished him weaned.


When Sir Evan was in his twenty
Efth hn n distant rart nf
his estate, which he had never visited
before, and, hearing that there was to be
wedding, he went to it in disguise as a
minstrel. He wore a tattered old tartan
coat, and carried his fiddle over his
shoulder in green baize bag, while his
fair skin was stained to appear dark as a


1t was toward the latter end of spring
"a clear, beautiful afternoon-and by
the riverside the young people were
gayly dancing, while an old white haired
man, with palsied hand, was trying his
best to give them music. The young
man drew near, and, bowling to the COM
pany, he drew his old bonnet over his
brow and began to play.


The dancers were delighted, for they
udu utNtE llfttDcu W SlCll SLIdlDO DCiOIC ,
and the old fiddler, trembling for fear of
losing the reward he expected, went to
the young minstrel in the first pause of
the music, and proposed that whatever
was paid TO either of them should be
equally divided with the other. The
young man laughingly assented, and
when the best man came to offer him q
glass of something to drink, he refused
it; but said, as it was getting cold, if
the old man would play them spring,
he would be glad to be allowed to dance
a reel.


Permission was at once given, and the
minstrel asked for his partner a pretty,
gray-eyed, modestlooking maiden, whose
the dance. She readily gave him her
hand, and such dancing was seldom seen
by those present. When he led her back
to her friends he offered her few prim-
roses from small bouquet he had gath
cred by the riverside, and, turning TO
another fair girl, he offered her the re.
mainder of the flowers, and begged her
hand for the next dance. She tossed her
head Indignantly, and her looks said
plainly. "Do you think would dance
with agypsy?' She had taken the fow-
ers from his hand, but she broke them
and cast them away, saying suddenly,
81 don't care for flowers, and I'm not
going to dance with you, thank YOU"


The young man turned away hastily,
and the maiden who had danced with
him said to her companion, How could
you wound the young mans feelings so ?
What harm could it do you to dance
with him. And oh /! the dear primroses
the first have seen this year; see, you
have broken them" and Ellen bowed
down and gathered the scattered flowers,
carefully placed them among those given
herself, and fixed them in her belt.


"How could you rather dance with a
fellow like that-likely one of the gang
of tinkers that passed yesterday? And
will you really wear the flowers he
gaveT replied the maiden, with scorn.
full sneer.


81 wear the flowers for their own
sakes. How could you break them-the
beautiesp replied Ellen, caressing the
bouquet with tender touch /; and as for
dancing with the young man, / am sure
/ am quite ready to do so again, were il
only for his delightful music"


Margaret drew herself away in digni-
fed silence. She was quite Mortified nj
the conduct of Ellen; and the young
man, who was lowering near and watch
ing the maidens, again offered his hand
IN Ellen. and anxious IN heal tho woupd