CHARLOTTE F. BATES.
A NIGHT AT COCKHOOLET CASTLE.
I.
Cockhoolet was the name of the place: it was a farm of which the
Ormistons were and had been tenants for several generations. A father,
mother and five olive-branches made up the family. A healthy, happy,
united, thriving family they were, and as such much respected. There
were two sons and three daughters, the eldest of whom was Bessie,
the "Rose of Cockhoolet," as she was called; for that she had all the
beauty and sweetness of the rose was generally allowed, although
there were people who could not be made to see this--people who were
probably idiopts; not idiots--although they might have a streak
of idiocy in them, too, perhaps--but idiopts, or persons who were
color-blind. None of the young men of the district were color-blind.
The clergyman of the parish in which Cockhoolet was situated, and at
whose church the Ormistons attended, was an old man comparatively,
whose sermons were old-fashioned, and not given forth with the fire
of youth: he was not one you would have expected to be very popular,
especially with the young; yet various young men from considerable
distances were attracted to his church, and, generally speaking, they
settled themselves in pews opposite the gallery in front of which
sat Mr. Ormiston and his family. Any person who chanced to be in the
vicinity, if of discerning powers, might have been conscious of the
electricity in the air.
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