THE DELUGE
By DAVID GRAHAM PHILLIRS, Author of “THECGSft fc
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CHAPTER XXII.—Continued.
"You scoundrel!” she hissed, her
whole body shaking and her care
fully-cultivated appearance of the gra
cious evening of youth swallowed up
in a black cyclone of hate. “You gut
ter-plant! God will punish you for
the shame you have brought upon us!”
I opened the door and bowed, with
out a word, without even the desire
to return insult for insult—had not
Anita evidently again and finally re
jected them and chosen me? As
they passed into the private hall I
rang for Sanders to come and let
them out. When I turned back into
the drawing-room, Anita was seated,
was reading a book. I waited until
I saw she was not going to speak.
Then I said: “What time will you
have dinner?” But my face must
have been .expressing some of th^ joy
anl gratitude that filled me. “She has
chosen!” I was saying to myself over
and over.
"Whenever you usually have it," she
replied, without looking up.
“At seven o’clock, then. You had
better tell Sanders.”
I rang for him and went iijto my
little smoking-room. She had resisted
her parents’ final appeal to her to re
turn to them. She had cast in her
lot with me. “The rest can be left to
time,” said I to myself. And, review
ing all that had happened. I let a wild
hope send tenacious roots deep into
me. How often ignorance is a bless
ing; how often knowledge would make
the step falter and the heart quail!
XXIII.
BLACKLOCK ATTENDS FAMILY
PRAYERS.
During dinner I bore the whole
burden of conversation—though bur
den I did not find it. Like most close
mouthed men, I am extremely talk
ative. Silence sets people to won
dering and prying; he hides his se
crets best who hides them at the bot
tom of a river of words. If my spir
its are high, I often talk aloud to my
self when there is na one convenient.
And how could my spirits be anything
but high, with her sitting there op
posite me, mine, mine for better or
for worse, through good and evil re
port—my wife!
She was only formally responsive,
reluctant and brief in answers, vol
unteering nothing. The servants
waiting on us no doubt laid her man
ner to shyness; I understood it, or
thought I did—but I was not troubled.
It is as natural for me to hope as to
breathe; and with my knowledge of
character, how could I take*seriously
the moods and impulses of one whom
I regarded as a child-like girl, trained
to false pride and false ideals?
“She has chosen to stay with me,”
said I to myself. “Actions count, not
words or manner. A few days or
weeks, and she will be herself, and
mine.” And I went gaily on with
my efforts to interest her, to make her
smile and forget the role she had
commanded herself to play. Nor was
I wholly unsuccessful. Again and
again I thought I saw a gleam of in
terest in her eyes or the beginnings
of a smile about that sweet mouth
of hers. I was careful not to overdo
my part.
As soon as we finished dessert I
said: “You loathe cigar smoke, so I’ll
hide myself in my den. Sanders will
bring you the cigarettes.” I had my
self telephoned for a supply of her
kind early in the day.
She made a polite protest for the
benefit of the servants; but I was
firm, and left her free to think things
over alone in the drawing-room—
“your sitting-room,” I called it. I
had not finished a small cigar when
there came a timid knock at my door.
I threw away the cigar and opened.
“I thought it was you,” said I. “I'm
familiar with the knocks of all the
others. And this was new—like a
summer wind tapping with a flower
for admission at a closed window.”
And I laughed with a little raillery,
and she smiled, colored, tried to seem
cold and hostile again.
“Shall I go with you to your sit
ting-room?" I went on. "Perhaps
the cigar smoke here—”
“No, no,” she interrupted; “I don’t
really mind cigars—and the windows
are wide open. Besides, I came for
only a moment—just to say—”
As she cast about for words to carry
her on, I drew up a chair for her.
She looked at it uncertainly, seated
herself. “When mamma was here—
this afternoon,” she went on, "she
was urging me to—to do what she
wished. And after she had used sev
eral arguments, she said something 1
I ve been thinking it over, and it
seemed I ought in fairness to tell
you.” 9
I waited.
“She said: ’In a few days more he’
—that meant you—‘he will be ruined.
He imagines the worst is over for
him, when in fact they’ve only be
gun.’ “
“They! I repeated. “Who are
‘they’? The Lang<jons?”
“I think so.” she replied with an
effort. “She did not say—I’ve told
you her exact words—as Tar as I can.”
“ Well,” said I, “and why didn’t you
go?”
She pressed her lips firmly together.
Finally, with a straight look into my
eyes, she replied: “I shall not dis
cuss that. You probably misunder
stand, but that is your own affair.”
“You believed what she said about
me, of course,” said I.
“I neither believed nor disbelieved,”
she answered indifferently, as she
rose to go. "It does not Interest me.”
“Come here,” said I.
I waited until she reluctantly joined
me at the window. I pointed to the
steeple of the church across the way.
| “You could as easily throw down that
steeple by pushing against it with
your bare hands,” 1 said to her, "as
‘they,’ whoever they are, could put me
down. They might take away my
money. But if they did, they would
only be giving me a lesson that would
teach me how more easily to get it
back. I am not a bundle of stock cer
tificates or a bag of money. I am—
here," and I tapped my forehead.
She forced a faint, scornful smile.
She did not wish me to see her be
lief of what I said.
“You may think that is vanity,” I
went on. “But will learn, sooner or
later, the difference between boasting
and simple statement of fact. You
will learn that I do not boast. What
I said is no more a boast than for a
man with legs to say, ‘I can walk.’
Because you have knowm only leg
less men, you exaggerate the diffi
culty of walking. It’s as easy for me
to make money as it is for some peo
ple to spend it.”
It is hardly necessary for me to say
I was not insinuating anything
against her people. But she was just
then supersensitive on the subject,
though I did not suspect It. She
flushed hotly. “You will not have any
cause to sneer at my people on that
| “I don’t think you can see Mr. Koe
buck,” she said.
"Take my card to him,” I ordered,
“and I’ll wait m the parlor.”.
‘"Parlor’s in use,” she retorted with
a sarcastic grin, which I was soon to
understand.
So I stood by the old-fashioned coat
and hat rack while she went
in at the hall door of the back
parlor. Soon Roebuck himself
came out, his glasses on his
nose, a family Bible under his
arm. “Glad to see you, Matthew,”
said he with saintly kindliness, giving
me a friendly hand. “We are just
about to offer up our evening prayer.
'Come right in.”
I followed him into the back parlor.
Both it and the front parlor were
lighted; in a sort of circle extending
into both rooms were all the Roe
bucks and the four servants. “This
is my friend, . Matthew Blacklock,”
said he, and the Roebucks in the cir
cle gravely bowed. He drew up a
chair for me, and we seated ourselves.
Amid a solemn hush, he read a chap
ter from the big Bible spread out up
on his lean lap. My glance wandered
from face to face of the Roebucks,
as plainly dressed as were their ser
vants. I was able to look freely, mine
being the only eyes not bent upon
the floor.
So absorbed was I in the study of
the influence of his terrible master
character upon those closest to it,
that I started when he said: “Let
us pray.” I followed the example
of the others, and knelt. The audible
prayer was offered up by his oldest
daughter, Mrs. Wheeler, a widow.
Roebuck punctuated each paragraph
in her series of petitions with a loud
ly-whispered amen. When she prayed
for “the stranger whom Thou has led
seemingly by chance into our little
circle,” he whispered the amen more
fervently and repeated it. The prayer
ended and, us on our feet, the ser
vants withdrew; then, awkwardly, all
the family except Roebuck. That is,
they closed the doors between the two
••x w.
account hereafter,” she said. “I set
tled that to-day.” „
"I was not sneering at them,” I pro
tested. “I wasn’t even thinking of
them. And—you must know that it’s
a favor to me for anybody to ask me
to do anything that will please you—
Anita!”
She made a gesture of impatience.
“I see I’d better tell you why I did
not go with them to-day. I insisted
that they give back all they have
taken from you. And when they re
fused, I refused to go.”
“I don’t care why you refused, or
imagined you refused," said I. "I am
content with the fact that you are
here.”
"But you misunderstand it,” she an
s' rered coldly.
“I don’t understand it, I don't mis
u iderstand it,” was my reply. “1 ac
c <pt it.”
She turned away from the window,
ifted out of the room—you, who
love or at least have loved, can im
agine how it made me feel to see Her
moving about in those rooms of mine.
While the surface of my mind was
taken up with her, I must have been
thinking, underneath, of the warning
she had brought; for, perhaps half
or three-quarters of an hour after she
left, I was suddenly whirled out of
my reverie at the window by a
thought like a pistol thrust into my
face. “What if ‘they’ should include
Roebuck!” And just as a man be
gins to defend himself from a sudden
danger before he clearly sees what
the danger is, so I began to act be
fore I even questioned whether my
suspicion was plausible or absurd. I
went into the hall, rang the bell,
slipped a light-weight coat over my
evening dress and put on a hat.
When Sanders appeared, I said: “I’m
going out for a few minutes—per
haps an hour—if any one should
ask.” A moment later I wait is a
hansom and on the way to Roebuck’s.
The door of Roebuck's house was
opened for me by a maid—a man-ser
vant would have been a ‘ sinful” lux
ury, a man-servant might be tie hire
ling of plotters against his life. 1 may
add that she looked the cheap maid
of-all-work, and her manners were of
the free and fresh sort that indi
cates a feeling that as high, or higher,
wages, and less to do could be got
elsewhere.
i }
UTED.”
rooms and left him and me alone in
the front parlor.
“I shall not detain you long, Mr.
Roebuck,” said I. “A report reached
me this evening that sent me to you
at once.”
"If possible, Matthew,” said he, and
he could not hide his uneasiness, “put
off business until to-morrow. My mind
—yours, too, I trust —is not in the
frame for that kind of thoughts now.”
"Is the Coal organization to be an
nounced the first of July?” I de
manded. It has always been, and al
ways shall be, my method to fight in
the open. This, not from principle,
but from expediency. Some men
fight best in the brush; I don't. So I
always begin battle by shelling the
woods.
“No,” he said, amazing me by his
instant frankness. "The announce
ment has been* postponed.”
Why did he not lie to me? Why
did he not put me off the scent, as he
might easily have done, with some
shrewd evasion? I suspected I owed
it to my luck in catching him at
family prayers.
“When will the reorganization be
announced?” I asked.
“I can not say,” he answered.
“Some difficulties—chiefly, labor diffi
culties—have arisen. Until they are
settled, nothing can be done. Come
to me to-morrow, and we'll talk about
it.”
“That is all I wished to know,” said
I, with a friendly, easy smile. "Good
night.”
It was his turn to be astonished—
and he showed it, where I had given
not a sign. “What was the report
you heard?” he asked, to detain me.
“That you and Mowbray Langdon
had conspired to ruin me,” said I,
laughing.
He echoed my laugh rather hollow
ly. “It was hardly necessary for you
to come to me about such a—a state
ment.”
“Hardly,” I answered dryly. Hard
ly, indeed! For I was seeing now all
that I had been hiding from myself
since I became infatuated with Anita
and made marrying her my only
real business in life.
We faced each other, each meas
uring the other. And as his glance
quailed before mine, I turned away to
conceal my exultation. In a com
parison of resources this man who had
plotted to crush me was to me as
giant to midget. But I had the joy
of realizing that man to man, I was
the stronger.
XXIV.
“MY WIFE MUST!”
As I drove away, I was proud of my
self. I had listened to my death sen
tence with a face so smiling that he
must almost have believed me un
conscious; and also, it had not even
entered my head, as I listened, to
beg for mercy. Not that there would
have been the least use in begging;
as well try to pray a statue into life,
as try to soften that set will and pur
pose. Still, many a man would have
weakened—and I had not weakened.
But when I was once more in my
apartment—in our apartment—per
haps I did show that there was a
weak streak through me. I fought
against the impulse to see her once
more that night; but I fought in
vain. I knocked at the door of her
sitting-room—a timid knock, for me.
No answer. I knocked again, more
loudly—then a third time, still more
loudly. The door opened and she
stood there, like one of the angels
that guarded the gates of Eden after
the fall. Only, instead of a flaming
sword, hers was of ice. She was in
a dressing-gown or tea gown, white
and clinging and full of intoxicating
hints and glimpses of all the beauties
of her figure. Her face softened as
she continued to look at me, and I
entered.
“No—please don’t turn on any more
lights,” I said, as she moved toward
the electric buttons. "I just came
in to—to see if I could do anything for
you.” In fact, I had come, longing
for her to do something for me, to
show.in look or tone or act some
sympathy for me in my loneliness
and trouble.
'No, thank you,” she said. Her
voice seemed that of a stranger who
wished to remain a stranger. And
she was evidently waiting for me to
go. You will see what a mood I was
in when I say I felt as I had not since
I, a very small boy indeed, ran away
from home; I came back through the
chilly night to take one last glimpse
of the family that would soon be
realizing how foolishly and wickedly
unappreciative they had been of such
a treasure as I; and when I saw them
sitting about the big fire in the lamp
light, heartlessly comfortable and un
concerned, it was all I could do to
keep back the tears of strong self
pity—and I never saw them again.
““I’ve seen Roebuck,” said I to Anita,
because I must say something, if I
was to- stay on.
“Roebuck?” she inquired. Her
tone reminded me that his name con
veyed nothing to her.
“He and I are in an enterprise to
gether,” I explained. "He is the one
man who could seriously cripple me.”
“Oh,” she said, and her indifference,
forced though I thought it, wounded.
“Well,” said I, “your mother was
right.”
She turned full toward me, and even
•in the dimness I saw her quick sym
pathy—an impulsive flash instantly
gone. But it had been there!
“I came in here,” I went on, “to say
that—Anita, it doesn’t in the least
matter. No one in this world, no one
and nothing, could hurt me except
through you. So long as I have you,
they—the rest—all of them together—
can’t touch me.”
We were both silent for several min
utes. Then she said, and her voice
was like the smooth surface of the
river where the boiling rapids run
deep; "But you haven’t me—and
never shall have. I’ve told you that.
I warned you long ago. No doubt you
will pretend, and people will say, that
I left you because you lost your
money. But it won’t be so.”
I was beside her instantly, was look
ing into her face. “What do you
mean?” I asked, and I did not speak
gently.
(To be Continued.)
; iQOQOOOOCOOOiaQaceoQoramfvifw
HEAD HUNTERS OF FORMOSA.
Race of Man Eaters Whose Cry la
for Blood.
The mountainous interior of For
mosa is inhabited by a race of blood
thirsty savages, whose chief delight
Is to sally forth on head hunting raids.
Few strangers (the exceptions being
some intrepid Japanese explorers)
have ever penetrated far into the wild
mountain country which is the home
of these savages.
They appear to be akin to the
Dyaks of Borneo, but no definite study
of their language or habits has yet
been made, though interesting de
tails will be found in Consul David
son’s voluminous boek on Formosa.
For hundreds of years the tribes, eight
in number, have withstood their ene
mies, who have never been able to
penetrate to their fastnesses. It re
mains to be seen what success the
more systematic Japanese will
achieve.
It seems almost incredible that the
station of a military force should not
be safe from the raids of these head
hunters, but It was the case a few
years ago. At that time one of the
tribes crept in the night upon a post
of the Japanese and made off with a
score of heads.
Their more usual method is to stalk
the Chinese of either sex when they
are engaged in tea picking. The sav
age creeps up unobserved to his vic
tim, transfixes him with his spear, se
cures his head and he is lost in a
moment in the neighboring jungle.—
Macmillan’s Magazine.
Patient Apologist.
“Charley, dear,” said young Mn.
Torklns, “you said you knew exactly
which horse would win that race.”
“I thought I did.”
“O, well, accidents will happen.
Maybe ,pne of the other horses got
frightened and ran away.”—Washing
ton Star.
Valuable Product.
During the last ten years the single
product of sisal fiber has yielded in
Yucatan the enormous sum of 297,000,
000 Mexican silver dollars.
WHOLE TOWN WON
BY “REVIVAL”
Remarkable Success Attends Work
of Evangelists at Abingdon,
Illinois.
PLACE IS TRANSFORMED
Over 700 Converts in City of About 2,
500 Population—Churches Not Large
Enough to Hold Crowds and a Tab
ernacle Erected by Voluntary La
borers—Business Men Plan to Build
Permanent Y. M. C. A. Building for
the Youth of the Town as a Monu
ment to the Wonderful Work.
Abingdon, 111—A remarkable re
vival has swept over this town, con
verting all save 200 or 300. The place
is transformed. The streets ring with
Gospel songs day and night. Cottage
prayer meetings are now the fashion
able thing. Young hoodlums who
loafed about, gambling and swearing,
•now spend their leisure hours reading
their Bibles and praying. The com
munity has been moved in much the
same manner as were the Welsh vil
lages in the height of the awakening
there.
The movement began under the
leadership of two young evangelists,
Ira Evans Hicks and E. S. Galloway,
assisted by Homer Alexander, brother
of Charles M. Alexander, the famous
Gospel singer. Some idea of the up
heaval wrought by the revival may be
gained from the fact that there were
over 700 converts, with scores of back
sliders reclaimed, in a town of only
about 2,500 population.
The meetings began a month ago in
ber of cases four or five members of
one family were converted. One young
man arose in a meeting and testified
that his father (an ex-saloon keeper)
and mother and five brothers and four
sisters had been saved—11 in all.
In the large wagon factory in Ab
ingdon scores of the men went for
ward and professed salvation. The en
tire atmosphere of the place was
changed. Scarcely half a dozen men
were left unconvertted. Instead of
drinking and swearing at the dinner
hour, they now have a daily song
service and prayer meeting. One of
the factory converts was an atheist for
many years, who roundly cursed
everything Christian. He now carries
a little Testament in his pocket wher
ever he goes. Another convert was
a notorious character about the town,
drinking and carousing, and being
once nearly killed in a brawl. He is a
big, vigorous man, and is now throw
ing all his energy into winning oth
ers. Within four days after his con
version he had led nine old compan
ions to the front to publicly confess
their faith.
Students Brought to Grace.
Hedding college is located in Abing
don, and the revival wrought a big
change there. Of the 150 regular stu
; dents all but four or five are new con
verted. As one of the professors ex
pressed it: “Nobody tries to keep
track of the prayer meetings. The at
tendance varies from two up to almost
the whole number of students.”
One of the most enthusiastic con
verts was the editor of one of the local
newspapers. He helped promote the
movement and spread the fire into the
country districts by placing his pa
per in the hands of the evangelists for
a week. They issued three “revival
editions” describing the work in Ab
ingdon, and giving news of the world
wide awakening. In each issue there
were about two columns of Scripture
Immense Tabernacle Erected in Which Services Were Held.
tne largest church in Abingdon, seating
SOO people. It soon proved altogether
too small, and with typical western
energy the people, led by the evangel
ists themselves, set to work to erect
a tabernacle that would accommodate
the crowds. With the assistance of
about 50 volunteers, a tabernacle seat
ing 2,000 was erected in three days.
Not a penny was spent for labor. It
contained a semi-circular platform ac
commodating 300; was lighted with
electricity, heated with stoves. Then
the meetings went forward with re
doubled vigor. The “tough” young
men of the town attended nightly, the
farmers drove in from all the sur
rounding district, and the building
proved none too large to hold the
throngs which gathered day by day.
People say it is in answer to prayer
that the work began. The young
evangelists and their helpers make it
a rule to spend an hour daily in
prayer. The people quickly caught
the religious fervor, and they, too,
spent hours upon their knees. During
E. S. Galloway.
the fourth week over 100 people
agreed to spend at least half an hour
daily in prayer. It is known that even
some of the children spent an hour in
prayer daily.
Revival Flame Strong.
The revival flame swept the town
almost clean. Among the early con
verts were boys and girls; then came
young men and women; and finally
men who had never professed Chris
tianity, business men, college stu
dents, workmen in the factories, and
gray-haired army veterans. In a num
narrative put into newspaper form,
and a decision card which could be
signed by any reader and sent the
evangelists. It created great intetrest.
Rev. F. L. Hanscom, pastor of the
Congregational church in Abingdon, in
giving one of the “revival editions”
his impressions of the work, said:
"The great revival which is sweeping
over the city is the greatest blessing
that has come to it since its inception.
The churches are united as never be
fore. Christians love one another as
at no other time. And there are more
saved souls in Abingdon to-day than
at any period of her past history. Five
hundred and more have been won
drously and gloriously converted to
God. Husbands have been saved and
liberated from habits that bound them
and made them slaves—wives have
been saved from indifferent lives and
made to shine anew for Jesus—while
scores have gone back to the grave
where they years ago buried all their
hopes, and bidding them come forth,
came back with shining faces, saying:
'The lost is found; henceforth and for
ever we live for Jesus.’ Pay—it has
paid many thousand fold. No valua
tion can be placed upon the good done
during this revival meeting.
Praise Work of Evangelists.
“Christian people should thank God
for the coming of Hicks and Gallo
way. They have awakened us—
aroused us—led us into a closer walk
with God. and best of all, have piloted
500 precious souls over the turbulent
waters of a sinful world to the foot of
the Cross. Thank God—but God be
praised for the great, the marvelous,
the glorious work of grace. Let all
the people say ‘Amen.’ ”
The greatest day of the revival was
the day which the people spent in
fasting and prayer. The public schools
and stores closed a part of the morn
ing, while Hedding college had no
session throughout the day. About
1,000 people assembled at the taber
nacle at 10:30 a. m. to listen to a ser
mon by Mr. Hicks; and thereafter the
service continued for over 12 hours.
It was nearly 11 p. m. when they final
ly left the tabernacle. All the people
didn t stay the entire 12 hours, but the
meeting went on without a break, and
the average present throughout the
day was fully 600. Hundreds spent
four to eight hours at the tabernacle
singing praises and praying. Between
five and six o’clock all knelt and con
tinued an hour upon their knees.
Their prayers were answered in a re
markable manner. In the afternoon
a noted local character for whom
many had been praying went to the
front. At night he took forward fowl
of his former associates. Prayer had!
also been offered for a man who
seemed well-nigh demon-possessed in
his opposition to the revival and to
Christianity. At night he was one of
about 30—most of them strong men—
who went forward.
Bibles in Great Demand.
One of the most striking visible re
sults of the awakening was the in
creased demand for Bibles and Testa
ments. The dealers could not get
them in fast enough. First Chicago
was drawn upon and then New York.
It seemed as if every boy and maa in
the town wanted to carry a Testament
or Bible in his pocket. And in their
enthusiasm the converts were not par
ticular about the pocket Bible being
very small. One evening a 15-year-old
boy walked into the store and paid
$2.50 for a Bible, telling the dealer
he was going to spend all the next day
reading it.
Numerous “Pocket Testament
Leagues” have been organized among
the boys and girls and young people
of the town. Each member carries a
testament in his or her pocket, reads
the Scriptures daily and endeavors to
win others to Christ. The members
meet weekly at one another’s homes
for testimony and prayer.
Another result of the revival is that
several have decided to become
preachers or Gospel singers. One lad.
about 15 years of age, said he had de
! cided to become a minister, while an
other about 12 said that was what he
wanted to do. A young workman in
a factory says he hopes shortly to
go to the Moody Bible Institute to pre
pare for evangelistic work.- He told
Ira Evans Hicks.
me that he now loves his Bible and
souls so much that he cannot put his
heart into his work at the factory any
more. He longs to spend the whole
day at home reading his Bible and
then going out to win the lost.
Will Become Gospel Singer.
A young man who is one of the fore
most students in Hedding college has
decided to become a Gospel singer.
He now has charge of the choir in the
largest church in Abingdon, and has
exceptional talent as a singer and
musical conductor. He has been a
nominal Christian for years. A few
days ago he declared that heretofore
his ambition had been to become a
professional singer for his own glory;
but that now he has yielded all to
Christ and desires to be used for
God’s glory. He will probably unite
with Homer Alexander in conducting
revival meetings in a neighboring
town.
The business men of Abingdon have
declared their intention of caring for
the bodies as well as the souls of the
large number of young men among the
converts, and have started a move
ment for the erection of a Y. M.'C. A.
building. This will stand as a brick
and mortar monument to this unique
revival.
GEORGE T. B. DAVIS.
Not Ripe to Write on Topic.
A few days ago a magazine staff
correspondent called on Senator Mor
gan, aged 83, and asked the alderman
if he would not write an article on
the subject of "The Viewpoint of Old
Age.” "A very good topic,” said the
senator, "a very good topic, indeed.
But, young man, you’ll have to wait
until I reach that age where I can
occupy the viewpoint you suggest.
My colleague will reach it before I
will. See him in about ten years and
then, if he won’t write the article you
want, I may do it.”
American Tribute to English Poet.
Americans have contributed more
than double the sum given by the
English for the purchase of the house
in Rome at the foot of the Spanish
steps where Keats died. The inscrip
tion on the building says that “The
young English poet, John Keats, died
in this house on February 24, 1821,
aged 26.” The "Keats-Shelley memo
rial,” besides saving the house from
being torn down to make room for a
new hotel, also includes the perpetual
care of the graves of both Shelley and
Keats.
ISLE OF GUERNSEY
Odd Customs of Other Days Main
tained by Inhabitants of This Little
£pot in the Sea—Small Paradise
8urrounded by Wild .and Awful
Coast.
—
“We live in constant terror," said
the Guernseyman, “of being ceded by
England to France; but by virtue of
holding us, the king of England is
duke of Normandy, and he would
scarcely relinquish his last claim to
that title.”
The peasants of little Guernsey
speak the old Norman French, says a
writer in the Travel Magazine. The
whole island uses French currency as
well as English; French names are
everywhere, and the principal families
are of Norman descent; yet the Guern
seyman voiced popular sentiment
The island is Intensely, proudly
English, when the question of belong
ing to any government arises; but it
is still more proud of belonging on the
whole—this little garden in the sea—
to Its own tidy self. -
It coins Its own money; It has its
own parliament, authorized to make
supreme and final decrees, and every
male resident in the island must take
his turn as a wheel in the political
machinery.
The liberal party or the conserva
tive may be dictating to the English
nation, but Guernsey is more interest
ed in some local strife over a sale of
potatoes in which a good citizen was
cheated. In her courthouse last sum
mer the writer heard such a case ar
gued in the ancient Norman French
between two grave lawyer*, a fat
judge presiding solemnly. They spent
the whole day on it.
If a man has a grievance and can
get no redress, he can as a last resort
kneel down in the public highway, and
in the presence of two witnesses cry
out in French: “To my aid, my
prince!" His case is then taken up
in court, and his eenmy or offender is
summoned, and justice is done.
Not far from Guernsey is Sark, the
incomparable—an island not much
larger than a plum cake, only three
miles around and one mile across, but
having its own parliament and its lord
manor, who lives in feudal state and
is responsible to nobody but King Ed
ward—and rather looks down upon
that monarch! The only other rep
resentative of ‘ the gentry” in Sark is
the vicar, and at present he is in a
state of feud with the seigneur.
Parliament is composed of the 40
owners of the 40 parts into which the
island is divided. Only heaven knows
what their proceedings are when they
meet, for in this lovely, forgotten part
of the world nothing happens.
There is a jail, but nobody is ever
put in. They once arrested a little
girl for stealing a handkerchief and
shut her up for the day, but had to
break open the rusty lock to accom
plish the imprisonment.
The postmaster’s duties are second
to his agricultural interests. If he is
at work in the fields you can’t get
your mail until the hay is in.
The boat comes over onee a day
from Guernsey, and if the tide is in
enters the smallest harbor in row
boats through a tunnel in the cliffs.
Once on top, the views are enchanting
—-a wild and awful seacoast surrounds
a little paradise
