Year: 1876




THE BROKEN PRIMROSES.
A Highland Love Story.


AMONG all the flowers that make the
country beautiful, | think none have such
a tender place in memory as the primrose.
Who ever passed the months of spring in
the country, in childhood, who cannot re-
call how joyously the first appearance OF
the favorite was hailed, and its opening
watched as its delicate buds peeped from
among the thick green leaves under the
shade of bricr bush, or around the roots
of widc-branching ash-trCe, or on the
tiny shelves of the hoary rock?


70 see even bunch of artificial prim-
roses on a pretty young lady's bonnet
seems to me to give touch Of poetry to
the wearcr; while to see them worn by a
matron about to enter into the scre 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 blossom
on the brow of winter. But to our story.


The laird of certain Highland estate,
which we will call Achaneilcau, was early
left fathcrlcss, but was carefully trained
by very wise, although doting, mother.
Sir Evan was fine, high-spirited young
man, who gave her the very highest salts
faction in all things, excepting inthc wan
dering habits he had early formed. He
would often dress himself in the strangest
disguises and minglc with his tenants,
taking leading share in their games and
pastimes. During his strolls he frequent
ly gazcd with delight upon such pano
ramas as that so beautifully dclineated i'll
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 undignited;
so, as she could not win him from this
strange habit, she tried to influence him
to get married. With this object in view
she gathered around her, both in London
and at home, all the young ladies she mos
admired; but her efforts seemed in vain
Sir Evan was courteous and attentive TO
all her guests, but he was still fancy free;
and she loved him too tendcrly to wish to
see him married without a sincere attach
mcnt. She knew the requirements of his
nature, and understood, therefore, that
lovcless marriage would only drive him
further into the wandering habits from
which she wished him weancd.


When Sir Evan was in his twenty-titth
year, he went to distant part of his es-
tate, which he had never visited before;
and, hearing there was to be a wedding,
he went to it in disguise as minstrel He
wore tattered old tartan coat, and car
rcd his fiddle over his shoulder in a
green baize bag, while his fair skin was
stained to appear dark as gypsys.


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


The dancers were delighted, for they
had never listened to such strains before;
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 a glass OF some
thing to drink, he refused it; but said, as
it was getting cold, if the old man would
play them a spring, he would be glad to
be allowed to dance reel.


Permission was at once given, and the
minstrel asked for his partner pretty,
gray-eyed, modest looking maiden, whose
graceful movements he had watched in
the dance. She readily gave him her
hand, and such dancing was seldom seen
by those present. When he led hel back
to her friends, he offered her few prim-
roses from a small bouquet he had gath
cred by the river side, and, turning to an
other fair girl, he offered her the remain
der Of the flowers, and begged her hand
for the next dance. She tossed her head
Indignantly, and her looks said plainly,
" Do you think l would dance with a
gypsy?'' She had taken the flowers out
of his hand, but she broke them, and
cast them away, saying suddenly: 81
don't care for flowers, and Pm 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, care
fully placed them among those given her
self, and fixed them in her belt.


"How could you rather dance with a
fellow like that-likely one of the gang Of
thinkers that passed yesterday? And will