A week ago, my friend the Journalist wrote to remind me that once upon
a time I had offered him a bed in my cottage at Troy and promised to
show him the beauties of the place. He was about (he said) to give
himself a fortnight's holiday, and had some notion of using that time
to learn wha ...
In those west-country parishes where but a few years back the feast of
Christmas Eve was usually prolonged with cake and cider, "crowding," and
"geese dancing," till the ancient carols ushered in the day, a certain
languor not seldom pervaded the services of the Church a few hours
later. ...
In the following chapters I shall leave speaking of my own adventures
and say something of a man whose exploits during the campaigns of
1811-1812 fell but a little short of mine. I do so the more readily
because he bore my own patronymic, and was after a fashion my kinsman;
and I make bol ...
A mural tablet in Axcester Parish Church describes Endymion Westcote as
"a conspicuous example of that noblest work of God, the English Country
Gentleman." Certainly he was a typical one.
Early last Fall there died in Troy an old man and his wife. The woman
went first, and the husband took a chill at her grave's edge, when he
stood bareheaded in a lashing shower. The loose earth crumbled under
his feet, trickled over, and dropped on her coffin-lid. Through two
long nigh ...
A rough track--something between a footpath and a water course--led down
the mountain-side through groves of evergreen oak, and reached the Plain
of Jezreel at the point where the road from Samaria and the south
divided into two--its main stem still climbing due north towards
Nazareth, wh ...
A Narrative of the sufferings of Mr. Obed Lanyon, of Vellingey-Saint
Agnes, Cornwall; Margit Lanyon, his wife; and seventeen persons (mostly
Americans) shipwrecked among the Quinaiult Tribes of the N.W. Coast of
America, in the winter of 1807-8. With some remarkable Experiences of
the ...
Beside the Plymouth road, as it plunges down-hill past Ruan Lanihale
church towards Ruan Cove, and ten paces beyond the lych-gate--where the
graves lie level with the coping, and the horseman can decipher their
inscriptions in passing, at the risk of a twisted neck--the base of the
church ...
"All day within the dreamy house
The doors upon their hinges creak'd,
The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse
Behind the mouldering wainscot shrieked,
Or from the crevice peer'd about,
Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors,
Old footsteps trod the upper floors,
Old voi
[Or so much as is told of her by Paschal Tonkin, steward and major-domo
to the lamented John Milliton, of Pengersick Castle, in Cornwall: of her
coming in the Portugal Ship, anno 1526; her marriage with the said
Milliton and alleged sorceries; with particulars of the Barbary men
wrecke ...
A Jew, unfortunately slain on the sands of Sheba Cove, in the parish of
Ruan Lanihale, August 15, 1810: or so much of it as is hereby related by
the Rev. Endymion Trist, B.D., then vicar of that parish, in a letter to
a friend.
All that follows was spoken in a small tavern, a stone's throw from
Cheapside, the day before I left London. It was spoken in a dull
voice, across a greasy table-cloth, and amid an atmosphere so thick
with the reek of cooking that one longed to change it for the torrid
street again, to br ...
I have thought fit in this story to alter all the names involved and
disguise the actual scene of it: and have done this so carefully that,
although the story has a key, the reader who should search for it would
not only waste his time but miss even the poor satisfaction of having
guessed ...
We were four in the patio. And the patio was magnificent, with a
terrace of marble running round its four sides, and in the middle a
fountain splashing in a marble basin. I will not swear to the marble;
for I was a boy of ten at the time, and that is a long while ago.
But I ...
A late hansom came swinging round the corner into Lennox Gardens,
cutting it so fine that the near wheel ground against the kerb and
jolted the driver in his little seat. The jingle of bells might have
warned me; but the horse's hoofs came noiselessly on the half-frozen
snow, which lay j ...
In a one-roomed hut, high within the Arctic Circle, and only a little
south of the eightieth parallel, six men were sitting--much as they had
sat, evening after evening, for months. They had a clock, and by it
they divided the hours into day and night. As a matter of fact, it was
always ...
[The events which are to be narrated happened in the spring of 1803,
and just before the rupture of the Peace of Amiens between our country
and France; but were related to my grandfather in 1841 by one Yann, or
Jean, Riel, a Breton "merchant," alias smuggler--whether or not a
descendan ...