Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1865-09-28
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AC 0 N T E ,

There are not, | fancy, many scenes
more animated than the view commanded
by the elevated recreation-ground adioin-
ing Plymouth called the Hoe, on a fine
summer evening Looking inland, the sub
urban terraces and villas stretch far away
till they become lost or dotted among the
uyur:ant foliage so pleasantly relieved by
The blue hills Of Devon. Turn seawards,
nd the picture is bright and glorious
ne. Immediately below us, and, as it
seems, under our very feet, lies the Sound,
smooth as an inland lake and glittering as
a sheet Of glass not a movement on the
suriace, except the almost imperceptible
ripple following the flip of the oar, or the
varying brightness which marks the track
Of the sailing boat.
Studded with vessels of all sizes, from a
man of-war lying at anchor to fishing
craft, not a sound is heard except the sub
ducd and melodious cry of the sailors as
they toll at the capstan the expanse of
sea is broken only by Drake Island, and
the long brcak-wattr with which its refuge
and lighthouse, is abruptly but delightfully."-
terminated ,by the refreshing green and
deep, rich shadows of the woody part of
the Mount Edgecumbe, where the syca-
mores and chestnuts bend over the water
edge and then, with every graduation of
natural color the landscape melts away in
10 the faint blue of far-of Cornwall.
1t was on an evening like this, after the
labors Of the day, that | strOled across the
the Hoe, and so down to the water side to
summon one of the watermen, always in
readiness, for an hours sail Seated COM
fortably and indolently in the stern, we
picked our way among the vessels in the
Sound and passing by the island have
mentioned, with its batteries, and steer
ing west of the breakwater, made for
distant point on the Cornwall side, which is
the first break in the sea view from the
Hoe Opposite this end of the breakwa-
Ter, and where stands the lighthouse, the
and makes a sudden bend, and with bold
curve terminates in the headland | have
just Indicated
In the midst of this bay, and concealed
at first view by the woods and hills of the
Mount Edgccumbe estate, lies the little vii
.ge Of Cawsand, place that in the balmy
days Of smuggling bore no very good re-
Iatc. Whilst staying at Plymouth, | had
often heard Of but had never before seen it,
sol determined to land at the point, dis
charge the boat, and walk quietly home,
taxing Cawsand in my way, distance of
seven or eight miles
more delightful half hours walk by
le side Of the hill, with wood and flowers
N each side and stretching down to the
sAingIy beach, it is impossible to conceive,
and the sweet and balmy air of this Dew
oAsAlTc summer, combined with an almost
southern climate the varied and pictures
iae scenery of home. | had seated my
sell on a stonewall before descending the
pain which led to the village, and was con-
"nplahng lazily the calm and peaceful
spot that lay before me, with the singular
y narrow streets, and quaint, oldfashioned
dwellings,, where you might literally shake
'IAdS with friend across the way from the
upper windows. Influenced, perhaps, by the
V"lln and Stiffness around, | was falling in
% sentimental train of thought, and won
UcFlng how crime and violence could find
"eLr way into a placid nook like this,
"Aen was reused, with close to my ear,
by
~, \ line evening this, sir !" ----
lie speaker was an elderly man, appar-
..Gnuy about sixty years Of age with all
sae Signs of sea faring life about him, the
I+.ld I|Jhzed face, gray hair and good-humored
;o9k common to his order. By no means
,laIS,posed to converse, accepted his re-
marx as an invitation, and we were soon
IH6aged IN an animated chat. He had
n oVeh at one period of his life, learned, a
'St-9uardsman, and had some good sto-
'''S about the smugglers and his encount.