CHAPTER XV. A VISIT TO AUNT MARGARET.
Before I tell you more about my father's family I will tell you about some other persons of whom Aunt Effie wrote. It seems to me that you will wish to know if Margaret, my great-aunt, had as peaceful and as happy an old age as was predicted for her. She was, as you will remember, wife to James Patterson, who fell at Bothwell Bridge. I shall be right glad to tell you about her, for I remember her well. She lived to be very old, and was hale and hearty up to the time of her last sickness. Her look was always so cheerful that I might almost say she wore a perpetual smile. She was plump and rosy too, and was as nice and comfortable a body as you would wish to look at. A visit to Aunt Margaret was a source of pleasure to us all.
One afternoon when father was feeling poorly and discouraged, for it seemed that all was going wrong with us, he said to mother, "Well, Agnes, I think I'll away to Aunt Margaret's; it may do me good."
"That it will," replied my mother. "But you maun take Christie with you, as you are no well."
I was right glad to hear that, and I hastened to make myself ready. It was in the spring-time; the hillocks were fresh and green, and even the crags were flecked with spots of vegetation. Sheep were cropping the tender grass on the uplands, and cattle were browsing in the underwood. Birds were flitting about and singing for joy as they busied themselves with providing for their tender young. The day and the season were so delightful that we thought nothing of the distance, and were surprised to find ourselves so soon at Aunt Margaret's cottage. The walk did father good, and he scarcely felt fatigue. Aunt Margaret was right glad to see us. She had always felt a tenderness for my father, and since his affliction came upon him she had done all she could to cheer him and make his burden less heavy.
"Something told me you would come to-day, Steenie," said she. "I said to Rachel this morning, 'The day is so fine I think Steenie will be here.' You did well to bring Christie. I wish Agnes had come too." And so she continued with her pleasant welcome and her cheerful chat, and father soon forgot his troubles.
Aunt Margaret's son John, the schoolmaster, always lived with his mother. His wife, Rachel, was a quiet body. She had no children, so that there were no playmates for me; but still I liked to go there, though to this day I can scarcely tell why. I think it was chiefly on account of the beautiful charm that invests most children, and makes them think their kinsfolk the best and loveliest people in the world. It must also have been partly on Cousin John's account. He always exerted himself to amuse children; perhaps because he had none of his own he took more notice of other people's; at any rate, he was very agreeable, and could be very amusing when he felt like it.
John made father laugh many times that afternoon. I suppose he was purposely funny in order to cheer my father and hearten him up a bit. His efforts had the desired effect, for father told John that an hour in his company was better than a dose of medicine. But this same cousin was grave too at times; and none took the good Book in a more reverential manner than did he, and few in prayer seemed to approach so near the throne of Divine Grace.
We stayed to break bread with our aunt that day. Many a daintier supper may have been gotten on the board, but I trow none better or more wholesome.