The Man From Glengarry

was a hard farm to clear, the timber was heavy, the land lay low, and Macdonald Dubh did not make as much progress as his neighbors in his conflict with the forest. Not but

never to be found at home, but was ever ranging the

elder. But from the church Macdonald Dubh held aloof. He belonged distinctly to the "careless," though he could not be called irreligious. He had all the reverence for "the Word of God, and the Sabbath day, and the church" that characterized his people. All these held a high place in his esteem; and though he would not presume to "take the books," not being a member of the church, yet on the Sabbath day when he was at home it was the custom of the household to gather for the reading of the Word before breakfast. He would never take his rifle with him through the woods on the Sabbath, and even when absent from home

she had not the most elemental ideas of tidiness. Her red, bushy hair hung in wisps about her face, after the greater part of it had been gathered into a tight knob at the back of her head. She was a martyr to the "neuralagy," and suffered from a perennial cold in the head, which made it necessary for her to wear a cloud, which was o

ove a large pot of pig's food was boiling, and the steam and smell from the pot made the atmosphere of the room

helped her off with her hood and coat, patting her on th

was afraid. Come away! come away! I will make you a cup of tea." But the minister's wife assured Kirsty that she was glad to come, and declining the cup o

and in half an hour Macdonald Dubh grew quiet. His to

tood by

now; and it is yourself

very matter-of-fact tone, "we will jus

ieved. "A little hot something for his inside will be good, b

u been giving

y. They will be telling me it is ferry g

ore of that; but we will try and make

g on delicate ground. The Highla

carefully, "need very frequent changes

Kirsty, su

tiful sheets, and we will change t

s no one but myself has slept in them sin

licacy of the position

can never tell just what sort of p

, heartily, "but I never let them in

e sheets should be thoroughly aired and warmed. Why, in the hospital in Montreal they take the very greates

en hearing that those French people are just full of poison and such

is the same with all people, but

sistent with her respect for the min

eets ready to change, and, K

other was free from the effeminacy of a night-shirt; but noting the dismay and confusion on Mrs. Murray's face, she

rd with a smile. "We will just use one of his own white shirts."

hem for the communion season, and the funerals, and such. He will not b

mile was so sweet and winning that Kirsty's opposition collaps

e, she was the clever woman-the wife, I mean. She was good

softly, "but every one tells me she wa

"and she was the light of his eyes, and it

pause, "before we put on these clean thin

ty g

l be getting a cold from it. In the summer-time he will be going to

lt of her persuasions and instructions, in an hour after Macdonald had awakened from his sleep he was lying in his Sabbath white shirt and between

who could not be persuaded to go up to his loft, lay on the bunk in the kitchen and dozed. Aft

tever," said Kirsty, in a vexed tone. "And

does he li

f buckwheat pancakes and pork gravy with maple syrup over them, but would he l

him with gr

nd gruel? He would be flinging the 'f

r him if he could be persuaded to

will be easy enough, for the

set it on the fire, and pouring some water in it, began to stir it vigorously. It was thick and slimy, and altog

you will let me, Kirsty-in the way I

g the oatmeal, allowed her to have her way; so that when Macdonald awoke he found Mrs. M

h grave courtesy, drank the gruel,

, amazed at Macdonald Dubh's forbearance

go and lie down for an hour, which K

breaking forth now and then into wild cries and curses. He was fighting

Come back, Mack!" Then followed a cry so w

said the minister's wife; "w

en laid a snow compress on the sick man's head, speaking to h

g came in through the little wind

r," said Mrs.

, thank you, except for the pai

hurt, Ranald tells me

ald, slowly, "it is

all on you?" as

wered: "It is very dangerous work with the tre

ast seem very badl

cdonald. "The breas

octor Grant," Mrs. Murray said. "T

no doctor at me, and I will soon be round again,

went on: "Yes, but, Mr. Macdonald, I am anxious to have Docto

that. But the doctor has not been in this house for many a day." Then, after

he ill

was very bad-and when it came it was a girl-and it was dead-and then the doctor arrived, but he w

day, and a great lo

hatever, and grand at the spinning and the but

cannot be comforted, and pitying from her heart the lone

pain and fear came i

" he said, hesitatingly.

Macdonald, and I have heard that

she wa

nd to t

y belie

ved the hou

keeping her from it, but she would be going eve

stock

urch. What else? Her stockings wou

And she loved her Sav

but she was afraid she would

said Mrs. Murray. "If she loved

gerly on his elbow. "And do you really think

rs. Murray, in a tone

e of pain: "Oh, but it is a peety she did not know! It is a peety she did not kn

afraid at the las

ld went on. "I mind well the words, as if it was yesterday. 'Hugh, my man,' she said, 'am no feared' (she was from the Lowlands, but she was a fine woman); 'I haena the marks, but 'm no feared but He'll ken me. Ye'll tak' care o' Ranald, for, oh, Hugh! I ha' gi'en him to the Lord. The Lord h

e heart. She laid her hand on Macdonald's arm, but she could

he said; "and you will

own her face, and Mrs. Murray could onl

a sigh of content, and he turned h

gregation, she read to him from the old Psalm those words, brave, tender, and beautiful, that have so often comforted the weary and wandering children of men, "The Lord is

f that has the

, "it is not really good, but it is t

ery pretty," he

e said, timidly, "I can

in simple words poured out her heart in prayer. Before she rose from her kne

prayer together,

vely, answered: "It is what sh

a sudden rush of pity that showed itself in her breaking voice, th

rgive our debtors," when he paused and would say no more. Mrs. Murray repeated the words of the petition, but still there

o probe the wound, and yet too brave t

said, gently. "More than we can eve

forgive an injury is closed

h her night's vigil, and anxious to get home. She rose, and offering Macdonald

s dark face began to work, and

d spares me!" And then he poured forth, in hot and bitter words, the story of the great fight. By the time he had finished his t

en it was over, she burst forth: "Oh, it was a cruel and cowardly an

n breathless haste and with flashing eye he to

nister's wife, forgettin

ald, sadly. "He would not str

at Christian. Greater than I could have been, for I would have slain him then and t

satisfaction. His tone and look recalled the minis

ht, Ranald, and we must

asis, "I will never do, until once I w

, but we must forgive. You see we MUST forgive. And we must

. But as they rode home together through the bush, where death had trailed them so closely the night before, the sweet sunlight and the crisp, fresh air, and all the still beauty of the morning, working with the memory of their sa

t's trials, but tinged now with the faintest touch of color from

e souls of Macdonald Dubh and his son Ranald, before they were