Page:Once a Week Dec 1860 to June 61.pdf/63

52  “No, I could not promise;” and then her face was hidden on her sister’s lap, and her sobs alone broke the deep silence.

“Bravo! lass an’ lad too,” cried Sam, patting her on the head; “ye?re of t’raight sort, but a couple of young fools, that don’t know what brass is;” and then turning to Julia, said, “They think there’s nobody else for it. With thou hev it, an’ me wi’ it. We could carry on bravely?”

Julia laughed loudly and merrily as she replied, “No! no husband for me. I’d rather make a fortune than have one given.”

Sam roared with laughter. A sensible lass! I’ve hopes of thee. Come here, Susan.” She went and stood by him. He continued, “Thou mun let me tak’ care on it while I live, but here, tak’ it in a Christmas kiss.” The hearty smack echoed through the room. “Now, what will thou do wi’ it?”

“Henry,” whispered she.

In a moment he was by her side, and his arm round her. She held up her face, saying, “Take it all back.”

Sam danced up and down, slapped Henry on the back until he winced, poked him in the ribs, and cried, “A sweet kiss that; rather a heavyish Christmas box; nearly a plum, and a bonnie sweetheart into the bargain. Sit down, lad, and Nance, bring out t’wine. We’ll hev bumpers round, an’ drink to t’new couple. Wait a year or two, lad, till we mak’ a lady on her, if brass’ll do’t, and then, by George! we will treat resolution.”

very beautiful is an autumn in the highlands of Scotland! The air is so light, the scenery so magnificent, the colouring of the hills so gorgeous; and then how enjoyable everything is—the pic-nic parties—the rides on the hill ponies—the boating—the fishing—where all, old and young, are determined to abandon all care, and to be thoroughly happy. But this season, I, for the first time, was admitted into that paradise of sportsmen, a Deer forest.

A lovely day in the beginning of September found Ross and myself slowly ascending the steep side of Craig Byrie. We spoke little: deer-stalkers never speak much until the noble stag lies low. Having gained the ridge of the hill, we were proceeding towards the Corry where we expected to find deer, when we saw a perfectly fresh track of a stag, going in the direction of Corry Valagan. We retraced our steps, crossed to the opposite side of the glen, and after many unsuccessful searches with our glasses, at last spied the stag, lying in the west side of the Corry, close beside a burn which runs down from the top of the hill. This burn we took as our mark, as we should have to make a long round, and lose sight of the ground. We had a weary climb up the hill;