Andrew Lang - "The Lilac Fairy Book"

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Bjornstjerne Bjornson - "Poems and Songs"

Maxim Gorky - "Mother"

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Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: The Monastery

S >> Sir Walter Scott >> The Monastery




The husband nodded acquiescence; for it was deemed highly imprudent to
speak of the fairies, either by their title of _good neighbours_
or by any other, especially when about to pass the places which they
were supposed to haunt.

[Footnote: This superstition continues to prevail, though one would
suppose it must now be antiquated. It is only a year or two since an
itinerant puppet show-man, who, disdaining to acknowledge the
profession of Gines de Passamonte, called himself an artist from
Vauxhall, brought a complaint of a singular nature before the author,
as Sheriff of Selkirkshire. The singular dexterity with which the
show-man had exhibited the machinery of his little stage, had, upon a
Selkirk fair-day, excited the eager curiosity of some mechanics of
Galashiels. These men, from no worse motive that could be discovered
than a thirst after knowledge beyond their sphere, committed a
burglary upon the barn in which the puppets had been consigned to
repose, and carried them off in the nook of their plaids, when
returning from Selkirk to their own village.

"But with the morning cool reflection came."

The party found, however, they could not make Punch dance, and that
the whole troop were equally intractable; they had also, perhaps, some
apprehensions of the Rhadamanth of the district; and, willing to be
quit of their booty, they left the puppets seated in a grove by the
side of the Ettrick, where they were sure to be touched by the first
beams of the rising sun. Here a shepherd, who was on foot with sunrise
to pen his master's sheep on a field of turnips, to his utter
astonishment, saw this train, profusely gay, sitting in the little
grotto. His examination proceeded thus:--

_Sheriff_. You saw these gay-looking things? what did you think
they were?

_Shepherd_. Ou, I am no that free to say what I might think they
were.

_Sheriff_. Come, lad, I must have a direct answer--who did you
think they were?

_Shepherd_. Ou, sir, troth I am no that free to say that I mind
wha I might think they were.

_Sheriff_. Come, come sir! I ask you distinctly, did you think
they were the fairies you saw?

_Shepherd_. Indeed, sir, and I winna say but I might think it was
the Good Neighbours.

Thus unwillingly was he brought to allude to the irritable and
captious inhabitants of fairy land.]

They set forward on their pilgrimage on the last day of October. "This
is thy birthday, my sweet Mary," said the mother, as a sting of bitter
recollection crossed her mind. "Oh, who could have believed that the
head, which, a few years since, was cradled amongst so many rejoicing
friends, may perhaps this night seek a cover in vain!"

The exiled family then set forward,--Mary Avenel, a lovely girl between
five and six years old, riding gipsy fashion upon Shagram, betwixt two
bundles of bedding; the Lady of Avenel walking by the animal's side;
Tibb leading the bridle, and old Martin walking a little before, looking
anxiously around him to explore the way.

Martin's task as guide, after two or three miles' walking, became more
difficult than he himself had expected, or than he was willing to
avow. It happened that the extensive range of pasturage, with which he
was conversant, lay to the west, and to get into the little valley of
Glendearg he had to proceed easterly. In the wilder districts of
Scotland, the passage from one vale to another, otherwise than by
descending that which you leave, and reascending the other, is often
very difficult.--Heights and hollows, mosses and rocks intervene, and
all those local impediments which throw a traveller out of his course.
So that Martin, however sure of his general direction, became
conscious, and at length was forced reluctantly to admit, that he had
missed the direct road to Glendearg, though he insisted they must be
very near it. "If we can but win across this wide bog," he said, "I
shall warrant ye are on the top of the tower." But to get across the
bog was a point of no small difficulty. The farther they ventured into
it, though proceeding with all the caution which Martin's experience
recommended, the more unsound the ground became, until, after they had
passed some places of great peril, their best argument for going
forward came to be, that they had to encounter equal danger in
returning. The Lady of Avenel had been tenderly nurtured, but what
will not a woman endure when her child is in danger? Complaining less
of the dangers of the road than her attendants, who had been inured to
such from their infancy, she kept herself close by the side of the
pony, watching its every footstep, and ready, if it should flounder in
the morass, to snatch her little Mary from its back. At length they
came to a place where the guide greatly hesitated, for all around him
was broken lumps of heath, divided from each other by deep sloughs of
black tenacious mire. After great consideration, Martin, selecting
what he thought the safest path, began himself to lead forward
Shagram, in order to afford greater security to the child. But Shagram
snorted, laid his ears back, stretched his two feet forward, and drew
his hind feet under him, so as to adopt the best possible posture for
obstinate resistance, and refused to move one yard in the direction
indicated. Old Martin, much puzzled, now hesitated whether to exert
his absolute authority, or to defer to the contumacious obstinacy of
Shagram, and was not greatly comforted by his wife's observation, who,
seeing Shagram stare with his eyes, distend his nostrils, and tremble
with terror, hinted that "he surely saw more than they could see."

In this dilemma, the child suddenly exclaimed--"Bonny leddy signs to
us to come yon gate." They all looked in the direction where the child
pointed, but saw nothing, save a wreath, of rising mist, which fancy
might form into a human figure; but which afforded to Martin only the
sorrowful conviction, that the danger of their situation was about to
be increased by a heavy fog. He once more essayed to lead forward
Shagram; but the animal was inflexible in its determination not to
move in the direction Martin recommended. "Take your awn way for it,
then," said Martin, "and let us see what you can do for us."

Shagram, abandoned to the discretion of his own free-will, set off
boldly in the direction the child had pointed. There was nothing
wonderful in this, nor in its bringing them safe to the other side of
the dangerous morass; for the instinct of these animals in traversing
bogs is one of the most curious parts of their nature, and is a fact
generally established. But it was remarkable, that the child more
than once mentioned the beautiful lady and her signals, and that
Shagram seemed to be in the secret, always moving in the same
direction which she indicated. The Lady of Avenel took little notice
at the time, her mind being probably occupied by the instant danger;
but her attendants changed expressive looks with each other more than
once.

"All-Hallow Eve!" said Tibb, in a whisper to Martin.

"For the mercy of Our Lady, not a word of that now!" said Martin in
reply. "Tell your beads, woman, if you cannot be silent."

When they got once more on firm ground, Martin recognized certain
land-marks, or cairns, on the tops of the neighbouring hills, by which
he was enabled to guide his course, and ere long they arrived at the
Tower of Glendearg.

It was at the sight of this little fortalice that the misery of her
lot pressed hard on the poor Lady of Avenel. When by any accident they
had met at church, market, or other place of public resort, she
remembered the distant and respectful air with which the wife of the
warlike baron was addressed by the spouse of the humble feuar. And
now, so much was her pride humbled, that she was to ask to share the
precarious safety of the same feuar's widow, and her pittance of food,
which might perhaps be yet more precarious. Martin probably guessed
what was passing in her mind, for he looked at her with a wistful
glance, as if to deprecate any change of resolution; and answering to
his looks, rather than his words, she said, while the sparkle of
subdued pride once more glanced from her eye, "If it were for myself
alone, I could but die-but for this infant--the last pledge of
Avenel--"

"True, my lady," said Martin, hastily; and, as if to prevent the
possibility of her retracting, he added, "I will step on and see Dame
Elspeth--I kend her husband weel, and have bought and sold with him,
for as great a man as he was."

Martin's tale was soon told, and met all acceptance from her companion
in misfortune. The Lady of Avenel had been meek and courteous in her
prosperity; in adversity, therefore, she met with the greatest
sympathy. Besides, there was a point of pride in sheltering and
supporting a woman of such superior birth and rank; and, not to do
Elspeth Glendinning injustice, she felt sympathy for one whose fate
resembled her own in so many points, yet was so much more severe.
Every species of hospitality was gladly and respectfully extended to
the distressed travellers, and they were kindly requested to stay as
long at Glendearg as their circumstances rendered necessary, or their
inclination prompted.




Chapter the Fourth.


Ne'er be I found by thee unawed,
On that thrice hallow'd eve abroad.
When goblins haunt from flood and fen,
The steps of men.
COLLINS'S _Ode to Fear_.

As the country became more settled, the Lady of Avenel would have
willingly returned to her husband's mansion. But that was no longer in
her power. It was a reign of minority, when the strongest had the best
right, and when acts of usurpation were frequent amongst those who had
much power and little conscience.

Julian Avenel, the younger brother of the deceased Walter, was a
person of this description. He hesitated not to seize upon his
brother's house and lands, so soon as the retreat of the English
permitted him. At first, he occupied the property in the name of his
niece; but when the lady proposed to return with her child to the
mansion of its fathers, he gave her to understand, that Avenel, being
a male fief, descended to the brother, instead of the daughter, of the
last possessor. The ancient philosopher declined a dispute with the
emperor who commanded twenty legions, and the widow of Walter Avenel
was in no condition to maintain a contest with the leader of twenty
moss-troopers. Julian was also a man of service, who could back a
friend in case of need, and was sure, therefore, to find protectors
among the ruling powers. In short, however clear the little Mary's
right to the possessions of her father, her mother saw the necessity
of giving way, at least for the time, to the usurpation of her uncle.

Her patience and forbearance were so far attended with advantage, that
Julian, for very shame's sake, could no longer suffer her to be
absolutely dependant on the charity of Elspeth Glendinning. A drove of
cattle and a bull (which were probably missed by some English farmer)
were driven to the pastures of Glendearg; presents of raiment and
household stuff were sent liberally, and some little money, though
with a more sparing hand: for those in the situation of Julian Avenel
could come more easily by the goods, than the representing medium of
value, and made their payments chiefly in kind.

In the meantime, the widows of Walter Avenel and Simon Glendinning had
become habituated to each other's society, and were unwilling to part.
The lady could hope no more secret and secure residence than in the
Tower of Glendearg, and she was now in a condition to support her
share of the mutual housekeeping. Elspeth, on the other hand, felt
pride, as well as pleasure, in the society of a guest of such
distinction, and was at all times willing to pay much greater
deference than the Lady of Walter Avenel could be prevailed on to
accept.

Martin and his wife diligently served the united family in their
several vocations, and yielded obedience to both mistresses, though
always considering themselves as the especial servants of the Lady of
Avenel. This distinction sometimes occasioned a slight degree of
difference between Dame Elspeth and Tibb; the former being jealous of
her own consequence, and the latter apt to lay too much stress upon
the rank and family of her mistress. But both were alike desirous to
conceal such petty squabbles from the lady, her hostess scarce
yielding to her old domestic in respect for her person. Neither did
the difference exist in such a degree as to interrupt the general
harmony of the family, for the one wisely gave way as she saw the
other become warm; and Tibb, though she often gave the first
provocation, had generally the sense to be the first in relinquishing
the argument.

The world which lay beyond was gradually forgotten by the inhabitants
of this sequestered glen, and unless when she attended mass at the
Monastery Church upon some high holiday, Alice of Avenel almost forgot
that she once held an equal rank with the proud wives of the
neighbouring barons and nobles who on such occasions crowded to the
solemnity. The recollection gave her little pain. She loved her
husband for himself, and in his inestimable loss all lesser subjects
of regret had ceased to interest her. At times, indeed, she thought of
claiming the protection of the Queen Regent (Mary of Guise) for her
little orphan, but the fear of Julian Avenel always came between. She
was sensible that he would have neither scruple nor difficulty in
spiriting away the child, (if he did not proceed farther,) should he
once consider its existence as formidable to his interest. Besides, he
led a wild and unsettled life, mingling in all feuds and forays,
wherever there was a spear to be broken; he evinced no purpose of
marrying, and the fate which he continually was braving might at
length remove him from his usurped inheritance. Alice of Avenel,
therefore, judged it wise to check all ambitious thoughts for the
present, and remain quiet in the rude, but peaceable retreat, to which
Providence had conducted her.

It was upon an All-Hallow's eve, when the family had resided together
for the space of three years, that the domestic circle was assembled
round the blazing turf-fire, in the old narrow hall of the Tower of
Glendearg. The idea of the master or mistress of the mansion feeding
or living apart from their domestics, was at this period never
entertained. The highest end of the board, the most commodious settle
by the fire,--these were the only marks of distinction; and the
servants mingled, with deference indeed, but unreproved and with
freedom, in whatever conversation was going forward. But the two or
three domestics, kept merely for agricultural purposes, had retired to
their own cottages without, and with them a couple of wenches, usually
employed within doors, the daughters of one of the hinds.

After their departure, Martin locked, first, the iron grate; and,
secondly, the inner door of the tower, when the domestic circle was
thus arranged. Dame Elspeth sate pulling the thread from her distaff;
Tibb watched the progress of scalding the whey, which hung in a large
pot upon the _crook_, a chain terminated by a hook, which was
suspended in the chimney to serve the purpose of the modern crane.
Martin, while busied in repairing some of the household articles, (for
every man in those days was his own carpenter and smith, as well as
his own tailor and shoemaker,) kept from time to time a watchful eye
upon the three children.

They were allowed, however, to exercise their juvenile restlessness by
running up and down the hall, behind the seats of the elder members of
the family, with the privilege of occasionally making excursions into
one or two small apartments which opened from it, and gave excellent
opportunity to play at hide-and-seek. This night, however, the
children seemed not disposed to avail themselves of their privilege of
visiting these dark regions, but preferred carrying on their gambols
in the vicinity of the light.

In the meanwhile, Alice of Avenel, sitting close to an iron
candlestick, which supported a misshapen torch of domestic
manufacture, read small detached passages from a thick clasped volume,
which she preserved with the greatest care. The art of reading the
lady had acquired by her residence in a nunnery during her youth, but
she seldom, of late years, put it to any other use than perusing this
little volume, which formed her whole library. The family listened to
the portions which she selected, as to some good thing which there was
a merit in hearing with respect, whether it was fully understood or
no. To her daughter, Alice of Avenel had determined to impart their
mystery more fully, but the knowledge was at that period attended with
personal danger, and was not rashly to be trusted to a child.

The noise of the romping children interrupted, from time to time, the
voice of the lady, and drew on the noisy culprits the rebuke of Elspeth.

"Could they not go farther a-field, if they behoved to make such a
din, and disturb the lady's good words?" And this command was backed
with the threat of sending the whole party to bed if it was not
attended to punctually. Acting under the injunction, the children
first played at a greater distance from the party, and more quietly,
and then began to stray into the adjacent apartments, as they became
impatient of the restraint to which they were subjected. But, all at
once, the two boys came open-mouthed into the hall, to tell that there
was an armed man in the spence.

"It must be Christie of Clint-hill," said Martin, rising; "what can have
brought him here at this time?"

"Or how came he in?" said Elspeth.

"Alas! what can he seek?" said the Lady of Avenel, to whom this man, a
retainer of her husband's brother, and who sometimes executed his
commissions at Glendearg, was an object of secret apprehension and
suspicion. "Gracious heavens!" she added, rising up, "where is my
child?" All rushed to the spence, Halbert Glendinning first arming
himself with a rusty sword, and the younger seizing upon the lady's
book. They hastened to the spence, and were relieved of a part of
their anxiety by meeting Mary at the door of the apartment. She did
not seem in the slightest degree alarmed, or disturbed. They rushed
into the spence, (a sort of interior apartment in which the family ate
their victuals in the summer season,) but there was no one there.

"Where is Christie of Clint-hill?" said Martin.

"I do not know," said little Mary; "I never saw him."

"And what made you, ye misleard loons," said Dame Elspeth to her two
boys, "come yon gate into the ha', roaring like bullsegs, to frighten
the leddy, and her far frae strong?" The boys looked at each other in
silence and confusion, and their mother proceeded with her lecture.
"Could ye find nae night for daffin but Hallowe'en, and nae time but
when the leddy was reading to us about the holy Saints? May ne'er be
in my fingers, if I dinna sort ye baith for it!" The eldest boy bent
his eyes on the ground, the younger began to weep, but neither spoke;
and the mother would have proceeded to extremities, but for the
interposition of the little maiden.

"Dame Elspeth, it was _my_ fault--I did say to them, that I saw a
man in the spence."

"And what made you do so, child," said her mother, "to startle us all
thus?"

"Because," said Mary, lowering her voice, "I could not help it."

"Not help it, Mary!--you occasioned all this idle noise, and you could
not help it? How mean you by that, minion?"

"There really was an armed man in this spence," said Mary; "and
because I was surprised to see him, I cried out to Halbert and Edward--"

"She has told it herself," said Halbert Glendinning, "or it had never
been told by me."

"Nor by me neither," said Edward, emulously.

"Mistress Mary," said Elspeth, "you never told us anything before that
was not true; tell us if this was a Hallowe'en cantrip, and make an
end of it." The Lady of Avenel looked as if she would have interfered,
but knew not how; and Elspeth, who was too eagerly curious to regard
any distant hint, persevered in her inquiries. "Was it Christie of the
Clint-hill?--I would not for a mark that he were about the house, and
a body no ken whare."

"It was not Christie," said Mary; "it was--it was a gentleman--a
gentleman with a bright breastplate, like what I hae seen langsyne,
when we dwelt at Avenel--"

"What like was he?" continued Tibb, who now took share in the
investigation.

"Black-haired, black-eyed, with a peaked black beard," said the child;
"and many a fold of pearling round his neck, and hanging down his
breast ower his breastplate; and he had a beautiful hawk, with silver
bells, standing on his left hand, with a crimson silk hood upon its
head--"

"Ask her no more questions, for the love of God," said the anxious
menial to Elspeth, "but look to my leddy!" But the Lady of Avenel,
taking Mary in her hand, turned hastily away, and, walking into the
hall, gave them no opportunity of remarking in what manner she
received the child's communication, which she thus cut short. What
Tibb thought of it appeared from her crossing herself repeatedly, and
whispering into Elspeth's ear, "Saint Mary preserve us!--the lassie
has seen her father!"

When they reached the hall, they found the lady holding her daughter
on her knee, and kissing her repeatedly. When they entered, she again
arose, as if to shun observation, and retired to the little apartment
where her child and she occupied the same bed.

The boys were also sent to their cabin, and no one remained by the
hall fire save the faithful Tibb and dame Elspeth, excellent persons
both, and as thorough gossips as ever wagged a tongue.

It was but natural that they should instantly resume the subject of the
supernatural appearance, for such they deemed it, which had this night
alarmed the family.

"I could hae wished it had been the deil himself--be good to and
preserve us!--rather than Christie o' the Clint-hill," said the matron
of the mansion, "for the word runs rife in the country, that he is ane
of the maist masterfu' thieves ever lap on horse."

"Hout-tout, Dame Elspeth," said Tibb, "fear ye naething frae Christie;
tods keep their ain holes clean. You kirk-folk make sic a fasherie
about men shifting a wee bit for their living! Our Border-lairds would
ride with few men at their back, if a' the light-handed lads were out
o' gate."

"Better they rade wi' nane than distress the country-side the gate they
do," said Dame Elspeth.

"But wha is to haud back the Southron, then," said Tibb, "if ye take
away the lances and broadswords? I trow we auld wives couldna do that
wi' rock and wheel, and as little the monks wi' bell and book."

"And sae weel as the lances and broadswords hae kept them back, I
trow!--I was mair beholden to ae Southron, and that was Stawarth
Bolton, than to a' the border-riders ever wore Saint Andrew's cross--I
reckon their skelping back and forward, and lifting honest men's gear,
has been a main cause of a' the breach between us and England, and I
am sure that cost me a kind goodman. They spoke about the wedding of
the Prince and our Queen, but it's as like to be the driving of the
Cumberland folk's stocking that brought them down on us like dragons."
Tibb would not have failed in other circumstances to answer what she
thought reflections disparaging to her country folk; but she
recollected that Dame Elspeth was mistress of the family, curbed her
own zealous patriotism, and hastened to change the subject.

"And is it not strange," she said, "that the heiress of Avenel should
have seen her father this blessed night?"

"And ye think it was her father, then?" said Elspeth Glendinning.

"What else can I think?" said Tibb.

"It may hae been something waur, in his likeness," said Dame
Glendinning.

"I ken naething about that," said Tibb,--"but his likeness it was,
that I will be sworn to, just as he used to ride out a-hawking; for
having enemies in the country, he seldom laid off the breast-plate;
and for my part," added Tibb, "I dinna think a man looks like a man
unless he has steel on his breast, and by his side too."

"I have no skill of your harness on breast or side either," said Dame
Glendinning; "but I ken there is little luck in Hallowe'en sights, for I
have had ane myself."

"Indeed, Dame Elspeth?" said old Tibb, edging her stool closer to the
huge elbow-chair occupied by her friend, "I should like to hear about
that."

"Ye maun ken, then, Tibb," said Dame Glendinning, "that when I was
a hempie of nineteen or twenty, it wasna my fault if I wasna at a' the
merry-makings time about."

"That was very natural," said Tibb; "but ye hae sobered since that, or
ye wadna haud our braw gallants sae lightly."

"I have had that wad sober me or ony ane," said the matron, "Aweel,
Tibb, a lass like me wasna to lack wooers, for I wasna sae
ill-favoured that the tikes wad bark after me."

"How should that be," said Tibb, "and you sic a weel-favoured woman
to this day?"