Scotland/Scots > Reminiscences of a Highland parish

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A HIGHLAND PARISH.
him, like a dove gently held in an eagle’s talons,
over hill and dale, to a nest of their own, where
love alone would have devoured her. But both
said, “’Tis too late!” Fate, like a magic power,
seemed to have doomed that she must marry
Duncan Stewart.
The marriage was to come off at the house of
a tacksman, an uncle of the bride’s, about two
miles from the manse; for the honour of having a
niece married to Blairdhu demanded that special
attention should be shown on the occasion. A
large party was invited. There were about a
score of the tenantry of the district, with the min¬
ister’s family, and a few of the gentry, such as the
sheriff and his wife, and the doctor; some friends
who accompanied Duncan from Lochaber; big
Sandy Cameron from Lochiel ; Archy, son of
Donald, from Glen Nevis; and Lachlan, the son
of young Lachlan, from Corpach. How they all
managed to dispose of themselves in the but and
ben, including the centre closet, of Malcolm Morri¬
son’s house, has never yet been explained. Those
who have known the capacity of Highland houses,
—the capacity of being full, and yet able to ac*