Life in the Clearings versus the BushMoodie, Susanna
History
Life in the Clearings versus the Bush
Moodie, Susanna
Frontier and pioneer life -- Ontario; Moodie, Susannah, 1803-1885; Ontario -- Description and travel
"The word husband was scarcely out o' her mouth, than puir Jeanie fell
as ane dead across the door-stair. The driver lifted up the unfortunat'
girl, carried her into the cabin, an' placed her in a chair, regardless
o' the opposition of Mistress Robertson, whose jealousy was now fairly
aroused, an' she declared that the bold hizzie sud not enter her doors.
"It was a long time afore the driver succeeded in bringin' Jeanie to
hersel'; an' she had only jest unclosed her een, when Willie cam' in.
"'Wife,' he said, 'whose cart is this standin' at the door? an' what do
these people want here?'
"'You ken best,' cried the angry woman. 'That creater is nae
acquaintance o' mine; an' if she is suffered to remain here, I will
quit the house.'
"'Forgi'e me, gude woman, for having unwittingly offended you,' said
Jeanie, rising; 'but mercifu' Father! how sud I ken that Willie
Robertson--my ain Willie--had a wife? Oh, Willie!' she cried, coverin'
her face in her hands, to hide a' the agony that was in her heart, 'I
ha'e come a lang way, an' a weary, to see ye, an' ye might ha'e spared
me the grief, the burnin' shame o' this. Fareweel, Willie Robertson! I
will never mair trouble ye nor her wi' my presence; but this cruel deed
o' yours has broken my heart!'
"She went her lane weepin'; an' he had na the courage to detain her, or
speak ae word o' comfort in her sair distress, or attempt to gi'e ony
account o' his strange conduct. Yet, if I ken him right, that must ha'e
been the most sorrowfu' moment in his life.
"Jeanie was a distant connexion o' my aunt's; an' she found us out that
night, on her return to the village, an' tould us a' her grief. My aunt
was a kind, guid woman, an' was indignant at the treatment she had
received, an' loved and cherished her as if she had been her ain bairn.
For two whole weeks she kept her bed, an' was sae ill that the doctor
despaired o' her life; and when she did come amang us agen, the rose
had faded aff her cheek, an' the light frae her sweet blue e'e, an' she
spak' in a low, subdued voice; but she never accused him o' being the
cause o' her grief. One day she called me aside and said--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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