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A LIFE LONG DREAM
By James Anderson.
Chapter III.
Tibbie Scott and her "man* ' Sandy lived in
a pretty little cottage that represented the
Lodge at the entrance from the toll road to
the "drive" leading to the mansion house of
Hawthorn, commonly called the Haw. Her
husband was employed as gardener, and her
duties consisted of opening and closing the
big iron gate when any of the "gentry" passed
through.
Tibbie was a plump, spry little woman; win
some and cheery. She was always primly
dressed in wincey fabric, and wore a woolen
shawl over her shoulders in winter; and she
shawl over her shoulders in winter; and
"mutch," except when "dressed." Then she
wore a black cap with a touch of color in it.
Pinned on her breast were, usually, a few sprigs
of mignonette or other favorite selections from
her garden plot, with its bountiful supply of
sweet Williams, carnations, fusehias, geraniums
and other favorites.
Both tried to jog along through life with
out any serious divergence from the path of
moral rectitude, and fairly succeeded. One
circumstance, only, invariably accomplished
Sandy '8 fall from grace, but no one, without
passing through the same trying ordeal,
could realize the power of the temptation he
had to grapple with. The forceful expletives
that would, volens nolens, escape from hi?
mouth when he witnessed the depredations of
a stray dog or cat on his flowerbeds, could not
be classed as choice language.
Tibbie was an early riser, and one morning
when the sun was peeping over the horizon,
and the birds were commencing their matins,
she was at work among her flowers and seemed
to hear them joining her in the humming of a
song of praise. In the snow-fall time of winter
she had a family of robins and other feathered
friends come regularly to her window for the
crumbs she distributed to them, and she ac
quired the habit of talking to them as well as
to her flowers. While busily engaged this
morning she failed to notice that some one was
approaching, until she heard the words, "Gude
morning Tibbie." Looking up in surprise Tib
bie ejaculated, "Losh keep me, Joan! WThat
brings ye here at this early hoor? Yer nae
lookin' yersel. Come an' see my roses an'
lilies afore we begin tae chat. My, but disna
the hawthorn blossom smell fine! Dinna ye
pity the city folks wlia ha'e tae fill their lungs
wi' smoky air! I tell ye there's naething like
nature ? the sky, the flowers an' the singin'
o' the gude Lord's feathered minstels ? naeth
ing like the beauties o' nature for clearin' the
mind o' man o' the cobwebs o' care. Noo,
what's yer trouble, Joan?"
A burst of tears from Joan was the reply,
accompanied with a sobbing that prevented her
from speaking. While talking Tibbie had been
plucking roses and fusehias and other floral fa
vorites until she now had a large bouquet,
which she now placed in her visitor's hand,
while she put her arm around her waist and
drew her to the small summer house
Allowing a little time for composure Tibbie
again addressed her friend and begged her to
confide her trouble with her.
"That's what I cam here tae dae" said
Joan "but I couldna help breakin' doon when
I saw hoo happy ye were. Ye dinna ken what
it is tae ha'e a lassie that's cantankerous an'
disobedient. My hert's nearly broken the last
twa days. O Tibbie, Gracie has ta'en up wi'
a loon in Cupar an' I fear he's nae muckle
gude. She hasna been at the kirk for twa
Sabbaths but sits wi' him or danders aroond
the woods wi' him instead. He comes tae see
her besides on the Sabbath aboot every ither
nicht. When I speak tae her aboot the maitter
she gets indignant an' tells me that she is auld
enough tae manage her ain affairs. I tell ye
she's cheenged tae me since he cam atween
us. "
Apparently engrossed with thoughts of her
flowers though listening intently and studying
deeply replied :
"Behold the lilies; Solomon in a* his glory
eouldna come up tae anc o' them. An' disna
that rose remind ye or the Rose o' Sharon 1
An' think o' the wee whistlin' birdies an' o'
Him what said that nae a sparrow fell tae the
ground withoot. the knowledge of Ilis an' oor
Father. ' Arc* ye nae o' mare value than mony
sparrows ' ? "
"Tibbie, Tibbie, think about my trouble,
wuman, an' help me if ye can. Dae ye mind
o' the conversation we had that Sabbath walk
in' frae Sabbath school? Oh, that I had seen
wi' your een. I ken I lia'e been feckless, Tib
bie, but I canna lat my bairn ruin hersel'.
Please tell me what I should dae."
"The wedge is in gey deep, I fear, noo.
Grace will ha'e tae gang through the fire as
weel as yersel'. The affair is beyond you an'
mee, an' we'll ha'e tae put it up tae Him wha
said, 'Come unta me all ye that labor and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' Keep on
prayin' aboot it, Joan, an' I'll help ye. Mebbe
we'll get some liclit afore lang, but we maunna
try tae gae alang in the dark. He cares for
you an' your lassie, an' dinna forget that He
said, 'Are ye no' o' mare value than mony
sparrow's?' Come in an' drink a cup o' tea
wi' me afore ye gang hame."
Mrs. Mills w^as one of those weaklings whose
hearts crave for sympathy, and who think that
relief is to be found by airing their domestic
troubles abroad. She wept on the shoulders of
some who did not respect her confidence as
Tibbie did ; and soon the tongues of gossips
were wagging.
Grace no longer occupied her place in the
choir, and Bill had not called upon her for
some time ; nevertheless he issued a warning
that if he knew of any one casting reproach
upon Grace, he would thrash them within an
inch of their life, no matter who it was, and
there was not a person in Hawthorn who for a
moment doubted that the threat would be made
good.
Bill's warning had a salutary effect. The
atmosphere cleared and Hawthorn settled
down again. Not so Bill. Weeks passed and
a spirit of restlessness took possession of him.
One day Jeames and he were using the ham
mers on a part of a plough. All of a sudden
Bill brought his sledge hammer down with such
a terrific force that the red-hot iron waa
knocked out of shape. Looking up with aston
ishment Jeames said to him, "What in a' the
michty creation, man, made ye dae that?"
There was no answer from Bill. "Dae ye nae
hear me? What craziness possessed ye that yc
smashed the coulter that wy ?"
"Maister Broon, ye '11 think me ravin', daft,
but T'll tell ye. Ye ken there's a loon that's
botherin' Grace. Weel, I juist saw his head
lyin' on the anvil."
One night, compelled by a power that was
strange to him, a psychic influence which was
unaccountable, he sauntered towards Joan's
cottage. He had carefully avoided that back
street for a long time, but his resisting power
was now broken. Strange, he thought, that her
face was so visible to him tonight, that it had
an appealing expression. He felt that she
called him to deliver her from a danger, and
he reproached himself for not having tried to
effect a reconciliation with her long ago. Per
haps her reported infatuation for him was all
a mistake. He would delay no longer.
Hurrying along he was nearing the cottage
when he saw a gig stop at the door and Grace
and Roger step down and enter. The cold per
spiration broke out on him. Only a few hours
before he had had a rupture with his Cousin
Margaret, who had announced her determina
tion, in spite of his protest, to wed George Tal
bert, and he was in no mood to witness, dis
passionately, another attempt to poach on his
preserves. Covered by the darkness Bill stood
watching the door until shortly after 10 o'clock
when it opened and the two stepped out
side and conversed, Bill with difficulty restrain
ing himself. In a few minutes their faces got
so suspiciously close that the watcher's control
relaxed, and in a few bounds lie confronted the
two. He stood speechless at what he deemed
an outrage, having never himself dared to take
such a liberty with Grace. The spell was
broken when Roger said, "How do you do, Mr.
Dawson?" Disregarding the proffered hand
Bill said, "Gracie, wouldna ye better gang in
side?"
"Hullo," said Roger, pulling himself up,
"who is this that so peremptorily addresses
Miss Mills?"
"What's the matter wi' ye, Bill ?" asked
Grace, trembling, for she caught the flash of
Bill's eye. Roger, observing her embarrass
ment, took her arm and drew her close to him,
saying, "Pay no attention to him, Grace."
Bill took Roger by the arm, threw him aside,
and led Grace to the door of the house. When
he turned the furious Roger struck him a vi
cious blow. A few minutes later Bill assisted
him to his feet, and, pointing down the road,
said, "Tak the road hame, my dandy, an' never
come near Hawthorn again."
Grace, who during the combat had been
screaming, said between her sobs, "Ha'e pity
on Roger, Bill."
"If I ken o' ye speakin' tae her again, ye
upstart, may the Lord ha'e pity on ye, for I'll
hae nane," shouted Bill, as his victim limped
across the road to where his horse was tied.
Bill then approached Grace, but she turned
and entered the house yelling, "I'll never speak
tae ye again," and slammed the door in his
face."
(To Be Continued)
HOW GOD HELPED HIM.
Recently I met a man who was an active and
efficient Christian worker. During our conver
sation he gave me a bit of his past life. "When
I was a young man," he said, "I fell into bad
company, and went from bad to worse. I got
into debt, and my creditors began to press me.
Then I had an opportunity to steal a large
sum of money, with little chance of detection.
On the morning of the day I'd set to take the
money, I found a little card on my desk,
placed there I know not how, which read, 'Lay
up for yourselves treasures in heaven.' That
little card troubled me all day, and I did not
take the money. I became convinced that,
however that card might have come to my
desk, Christ had sent it to save me ; and from
that day to this I have worked for His cause/*
? Sunday School Times.
"SHUT THE DOOR.
A man was standing in a telephone box try
ing to talk, but he could not make out the mes
sage. He kept saying : "I can't hear, I can't