The Flowering Fern. 
i 8 i 
of its names — suggests that there is some lost legend which, could it be recovered, would clear 
up the point. The following occurs in several books, but is, we imagine, of no antiquity or 
authenticity : — 
At Loch Tyne dwelt the waterman, old Osmund. Fairest among maidens was the daughter 
of Osmund, the waterman. Her light brown hair and glowing cheek told of her Saxon origin, 
and her light steps bounded o’er the green turf like a young fawn in his native glades. Often 
in the stillness of a summer’s evening did the mother and her fairhaired child sit beside the 
lake to watch the dripping and splashing of her father’s oars as he skimmed right merrily 
toward them over the deep blue waters. Sounds as of hasty steps were heard one day, and 
presently a company of fugitives told with breathless haste that the cruel Danes were making 
toward the ferry. Osmund heard them with fear. Suddenly the shouts of furious men came 
remotely on the ear. The fugitives rushed on. Osmund stood for a moment; then snatching 
up his oars he rowed his trembling wife and fair child to a small island covered with the 
great Osmund Royal, and, helping them to land, bade them lie down beneath the tall ferns. 
Scarcely had the ferryman returned to his cottage when a company of Danes rushed in ; 
but they hurt him not, for they knew he could do them service. During the day and night 
did Osmund row backward and forward across the river, ferrying troops of those fierce men. 
When the last company was put ashore, Osmund, kneeling beside the river’s bank, returned 
heartfelt thanks to Heaven for the preservation of his wife and child. Often in after years 
did Osmund speak of that day’s peril ; and his fair child, grown up to womanhood, called 
the tall fern by her father’s name. 
