CHRISTOPHER IN HIS SPORTING JACKET 



those sedate, with hair combed straight on their fore- 

 heads, sunburnt faces, and horny hands estabhshed 

 on their knees — these serene, with countenances many 

 of them not unlovely — comely all — and with arms 

 decently folded beneath their matronly bosoms — as 

 they sat in their holyday dresses, feeling as if the 

 season of youth had hardly yet flown by, or were, on 

 such a merry meeting, for a blink restored! Boys and 

 virgins — those bold even in their bashfulness — these 

 blushing whenever eyes met eyes — nor would they — 

 nor could they — have spoken in the hush to save 

 their souls; yet ere the evening star arose, many a 

 pretty maiden had, down-looking and playing with 

 the hem of her garment, sung linnet-like her ain fa- 

 vourite auld Scottish sang! and many a sweet sang 

 even then delighted Scotia's spirit, though Robin 

 Burns was but a youth — walking mute among the 

 wild-flowers on the moor — nor aware of the immor- 

 tal melodies soon to breathe from his impassioned 

 heart ! 



Of all the year's holydays, not even excepting the 

 First of May, this was the most delightful. The First 

 of May, longed for so passionately from the first peep 

 of the primrose, sometimes came deformed with mist 

 and cloud, or cheerless with whistling winds, or win- 

 ter-like with a sudden fall of snow. And thus all our 

 hopes were dashed — the roomy hay- waggon remained 

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