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The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

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1 62 <strong>The</strong> HigJiland Monthly.<br />

when his position was in some degree confirmed, he married,<br />

and had two sons born unto him, and for a time all went<br />

well. Nay, better ! for his worldly affairs continued to<br />

prosper more and more, until he became tenant <strong>of</strong> the<br />

farm. But days <strong>of</strong> parting and sorrow set in. His sons had<br />

not yet reached maturity when they were successively<br />

seized with the fell pestilence then devastating the country,<br />

and, taking their last sleep even in the morning <strong>of</strong> life, sank<br />

into the grave. Nor did the mother long survive this severe<br />

blow to her dearest hopes, for, while still endeavouring to<br />

console the sorrows <strong>of</strong> her partner, she gradually succumbed<br />

to her own, and then Mark Teviot, no longer young, was<br />

again alone in the land <strong>of</strong> his adoption.<br />

But let it not be supposed that this good man lost all<br />

heart and ceased to take wholesome, genial interest in life<br />

and its concerns. True, the withering blast <strong>of</strong> affliction<br />

through which he had passed, brought on prematurely the<br />

signs <strong>of</strong> old age, yet nearly all his former vigour remained,<br />

while he bravely fulfilled that ancient pastoral precept :<br />

" Be thou diligent to know the state <strong>of</strong> thy flocks, and look<br />

well to thy herds "<br />

It was some years after this that I, the orphan<br />

descendant <strong>of</strong> a near relative, was brought to Glenbeltane,<br />

which thenceforth became my home. Here it was that I<br />

emerged into intelligent existence, although I have some<br />

faint recollection <strong>of</strong> the long journey northward, and <strong>of</strong><br />

crossing Queensferry, where I was met by old Mark Teviot,<br />

who had been disposing <strong>of</strong> his stock at Teithmuir Tryst.<br />

He rode a stout white mare, and carried me before him on<br />

the saddle, folded in his plaid. General Wade's road<br />

brought us to a point within half-a-dozen miles <strong>of</strong> our desti-<br />

nation, and from thence w^e pursued a bridle track, w^hich I<br />

was destined to traverse <strong>of</strong>ten since then.<br />

A mere casual visitor might be apt to suppose that life<br />

upon a pastoral farm such as that <strong>of</strong> Glenbeltane, must<br />

necessarily be monotonous, but, in realit}% it was far indeed<br />

from this, being characterised by a constantly varying<br />

round <strong>of</strong> successive duties and amusements.<br />

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