St. Landry democrat., 1886-07-10
bright talk with him. If Phil were
pleased with his hnst-and there WAS

l.
pleased with his host-and there was
little doubt of that-Marsh was vet the
more pleased of the two. The lad $
bright face and hopeful converse did
him good. He felt rather wicked, how
ever, when he began to draw his guest
out about Tregarthen, and as if he were
doing an undetermined thing in listen
ing to him. Phil described the island
and the house, told him quaint things
about the score of islanders. who were
all oddities in their way as they were
likely to be (though the historian had
never thought them so until they grew
curious by contrast with the people of
the wider world in which he now
moved), and even repeated one or two
wonderful old ballads, which sparkled
for the philologist, but were, for any
body else, simply and merely droll.
And what manner of man is Mr..
Tregarthen?" asked Mr. Marsh, at
length.
ooh. Arthur said Phil. 1.-The best
man in the world | think. He is a
great deal absorbed in scientific pursuits,
chemistry, and all that, and the island
ers have made up their minds that he
holds correspondence with the devil.
Now, | shouldn't be surprised at find
ing him engaged in converse with
spiritual agencies of another sort, for
he's man without fault. He's a
gentleman cried Phil enthusiastically
'from his soul to his skinr'
This was hardly what the poet had
expected to hear, though it was natural
no nth % ch l.
well of his preserver.
''He saved your life, think?'
"He did," said Phil, his checks
flushing. 'I've heard old Reuben
Pollarth tell the story many time.
One Of the men on board-we were on
the Isle of Elba, from Bombay to Liv-
erpool-tied me to spar and threw
me overheard just before the smash
came. | can remember crying and
begging him not to do it, and fighting
before [ was tied, but [ can't recall
anything after that. 1t was such a
night, old Pollarth says, as no living
man can remember. I've known the
west wind blowing there, and the
the old man says that what I've looked
at is no more than boy could make
by stirring puddle with a stick in
comparison to what it was that night.
l drifted up somehow, with the spar,
and Arthur saw me, and went in after
me headlong. The next wave threw
us up together, and the spar struck
him on the head and stunned him; but
old Pollarth had time to grip at the
spar, and his son took hold of him, and
Bill Pollarth took hold of Ben, and the
rest all held on and the wave went
back without us. Arthur was month
in bed after it, and was crazy half the
time or more
Marsh felt something of the glow
Pills heart experienced as this tale
was told.
The two not merely parted we'll
pleased with each other but held each
other in mind, and met frequently, and
in little while became intimates and
friends. Itwas natural that Phil should
turn often, in his speech with Marsh, to
Tregarthen Island and its owner. And
there gradually grew up in the poets
mind the clearest image of the man
mournful and tender hearted cynic,
with craze.
"His wife ran away from him." said
Phil speaking of him one day. ''The
people on the island and the people at
Gorbay always declare that he ill-used
her, or was guilty of some dreadful
villainy; but | know better. Nobody
ever knew Arthur do a mean thing
nobody ever knew him do a mean
thing or cowardly thing"
When he was alone again Pills mind
was SO occupied with his protector that
he must needs sit down and write to
him instanter. Tregarthen had written,
a week Or two before: ''Your letters are
the only murmurs of the world that
reach me, and are all care to reach
me-" Books, plays, and pictures filled
the youn gstQS's head chiefly, and it was
mainly of them that he wrote.
81 have made a most fortunate ac-
quaintance, wrote Phil, Sin the person
of Mr.. Ronald Marsh, one of the most
disting uished of our modern poets. He
is the author of comedy called Cos
samere,' now being performed at the
Mirror, with which [ was enchanted.
The chief part is taken by Miss Church
ill, who is simply divine. have seen
all the principal actors and actresses
now, and there is nobody who comes
near Miss Churchill. Then followed
criticism: ''There is about this admira
BILE artist a grace and refinement
which other actresses lack. You are
sure at first sight that she is gentle
woman. Perhaps her rarest charm is
her voice, which is marvelously sweet,
and has an underlying tone of melan-
choly even in its most joyous passages.
Not that it invests her comedy with a
tinge of the maudlin, or that she plays
a gay scene in any but the brightest
q, annar. hut her uoica snftans fhe as