Christine: A Fife Fisher Girl

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Barr Amelia E.. Christine: A Fife Fisher Girl

CHAPTER I. FISHERS OF CULRAINE

CHAPTER II. CHRISTINE AND THE DOMINE

CHAPTER III. ANGUS BALLISTER

CHAPTER IV. THE FISHERMAN’S FAIR

CHAPTER V. CHRISTINE AND ANGUS

CHAPTER VI. A CHILD, TWO LOVERS, AND A WEDDING

CHAPTER VII. NEIL AND A LITTLE CHILD

CHAPTER VIII. AN UNEXPECTED MARRIAGE

CHAPTER IX. A HAPPY BIT OF WRITING

CHAPTER X. ROBERTA INTERFERES

CHAPTER XI. CHRISTINE MISTRESS OF RULESON COTTAGE

CHAPTER XII. NEIL’S RETURN HOME

CHAPTER XIII. THE RIGHT MATE AND THE RIGHT TIME

CHAPTER XIV. AFTER MANY YEARS

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One day leads to another, and even in the little, hidden-away village of Culraine, no two days were exactly alike. Everyone was indeed preparing for the great fishing season, and looking anxiously for its arrival, but if all were looking for the same event, it had for its outcome in every heart a different end, or desire. Thus, James Ruleson hoped its earnings would complete the sum required to build a cottage for his daughter’s marriage portion, and Margot wanted the money, though not for the same object. Norman had a big doctor’s bill to pay, and Eneas thought of a two weeks’ holiday, and a trip to Edinburgh and Glasgow; while Neil was anxious about an increase in his allowance. He had his plea all ready – he wanted a new student’s gown of scarlet flannel, and some law books, which, he said, everyone knew were double the price of any other books. It was his last session, and he did hope that he would be let finish it creditably.

He talked to Christine constantly on the subject, and she promised to stand up for the increase. “Though you ken, Neil,” she added, “that you hae had full thirty pounds a session, and that is a lot for feyther to tak’ out o’ the sea; forbye Mither was aye sending you a box full o’ eggs and bacon, and fish and oatmeal, ne’er forgetting the cake that men-folk all seem sae extra fond o’. And you yoursel’ were often speaking o’ the lads who paid their fees and found their living out o’ thirty pounds a session. Isn’t that sae?”

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When she entered the cottage, she found the Domine, Dr. Magnus Trenabie, drinking a cup of tea at the fireside. He had been to the pier to see the boats sail, for all the men of his parish were near and dear to him. He was an extraordinary man – a scholar who had taken many degrees and honors, and not exhausted his mental powers in getting them – a calm, sabbatic mystic, usually so quiet that his simple presence had a sacramental efficacy – a man who never reasoned, being full of faith; a man enlightened by his heart, not by his brain.

Being spiritually of celestial race, he was lodged in a suitable body. Its frame was Norse, its blood Celtic. He appeared to be a small man, when he stood among the gigantic fishermen who obeyed him like little children, but he was really of average height, graceful and slender. His head was remarkably long and deep, his light hair straight and fine. The expression of his face was usually calm and still, perhaps a little cold, but there was every now and then a look of flame. Spiritually, he had a great, tender soul quite happy to dwell in a little house. Men and women loved him, he was the angel on the hearth of every home in Culraine.

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