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Margaret M. (Margaret Murray) Robertson
Margaret Murray Robertson (1823–1897) was a Scottish-Canadian author known for her moral and religious-themed novels. She wrote numerous books, often focusing on the lives of women and children, with some of her most famous works being "David Fleming's Forgiveness" and "The Orphans of Glen Elder." Her stories typically emphasize Christian values and the importance of faith in overcoming life's challenges. Robertson's work was widely read in both Canada and the United States during her lifetime, making her a significant figure in 19th-century Canadian literature.
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Chapter One. In the large and irregular township of Gourlay, there are two villages, Gourlay Centre and Gourlay Corner. The Reverend Mr Inglis lived in the largest and prettiest of the two, but he preached in both. He preached also in another part of the town, called the North Gore. A good many of the Gore people used to attend church in one or other of the two villages; but some of them would never...
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An Old Story. Stephen Grattan had been a drunkard, and was now a reformed man. John Morely had been a drunkard, and was trying to reform. His father, though not a total abstainer, had lived and died a temperate man. But John Morely was not like his father. He had in him, the neighbours said, “the makings” of a better or a worse man than ever his father had been; and when, after his mother’s...
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Chapter One. A long time ago, something very sad happened in one of the districts of Scotland. I cannot tell you how it all came about, but a great many people were obliged to leave their homes where they and their forefathers had lived for many generations. A few scattered themselves through other parts of the country; a few went to the great towns to seek for a livelihood; but by far the greater...
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Chapter One. Aunt Janet’s Visit. “Up to the fifth landing, and then straight on. You canna miss the door.” For a moment the person thus addressed stood gazing up into the darkness of the narrow staircase, and then turned wearily to the steep ascent. No wonder she was weary; for at the dawn of that long August day, now closing so dimly over the smoky town, her feet had pressed the purple heather...
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Chapter One. The longest day in all the year was slowly closing over the little village of Clayton. There were no loiterers now at the corners of the streets or on the village square—it was too late for that, though daylight still lingered. Now and then the silence was broken by the footsteps of some late home-comer, and over more than one narrow close, the sound of boyish voices went and came, from...
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