The Portland daily press., 1886-11-03

skipper, "some fellows made business of
going every day in summer to shoot them
gulls and sea fowl at Lundy." They would
kill the first two or three by taking aim;
these were thrown into the water for de-
eoys, which would draw the whole colony
to the waters edge, when they
would only have to FIRE hit or miss
and would often return at night with a boa
load OF four or five hundred. These were
dressed for the dealers at London to deco
rate bonnets for the ladies. As this would
be in the brooding season, more birdlings
persisted for lack of the mothers brooding
than by the hand of the ruthless gunner.
This went on for years, until the owner Of
the island, clergyman, Heaven by name,
was so moved by the cry of the murdered and
starving innocents, that he appealed to the
powers that be, and induced the government
to restrict the gaming season.
Cloyelly was the home of Charles Kings
ley, who located the scenes of many of his sto-
ries in this neighborhood. To-day his daugh-
ter, as wears wife, presides over her little
domain as mother queen and pattern to her
subjects in their management both of their
temporal and spiritual affairs.
AS we stood at the door, with packs all
strapped and waiting for the ''horses to be
put to- we espied a gray speek like gull
skimming the bay. All eyes were fixed upon
it to learn what the craft might be. Soon it
hove into clear sight, and proved to be the
Queen of the Bay bringing a company of ex-
cursionists. AT once we countermanded our
orders, glad to be excused from a tedious
ride, and waited while the ''cheap trippers"
'took the" obby dive and drank their stout,
for that is the salutatory and valedictory of
every English holiday, and embarked with
them on their return voyage to Ilfracombe.
A delightful sail we had over the bay, which
reflected, as in mirror, the setting sun upon
its silvery bosom. At dusk we landed to
take pot luck at the Gilbert House. This is
the first temperance house in which we have
had the good fortune to alght. 1t is often
said good eating and temperance drinks or
teetotaller's toddy, as advertised here by the
total abstinence people, never go together
The landlady at the Gilbert certainly sue
ceeds in catering to the appetites of her
guests, and apparently does not impoverish
her own pocket. OF course she cannot pro-
hibit her boarders bringing In beverages to
their own liking; but wine bibbers and their
disagreeable associates are not likely to in
fest such house. Here were spent many
days in long walks across the Tors and drives
over the Devonshire Downs
One drive was especially pleasant along
the shore to Combemartin, a little cluster of
houses Rugged close together in the combe
running down to the beach. The streets are
narrow and dusty, and the houses bare and
rough looking but in the door yards the good
wife has always her patch of posies, and her
windows are curtained with geraniums and
heliotropes, which make the grim cottages
very pretty to the eye of the passer-by, but
must make the rooms dark. as the ungrateful
plants turn their blossoms to the sun and pre-
sent their bare stalks and leaves to those
who bestow upon them daily care. There is
always one quiet and green oasis in every
old English town, no matter how unsightly
1t may be-the rectory and church yard. In
richer parishes, like Salisbury, the lawns are
soft as velvet and the flowers arranged in
elaborate designs. Here, as in many retired
villages, where the tithes just keep the GU
rate and meet the current expenses, the
church yard is complete tangle, shut in
from the road by hedges Of thorn and iyies,
which are sprinkled thicl1ly with wood wax
and ragged robin, and from whose dense
masses of foliage branches of tall foxgloye,
or thimble flowers the little Devonshire maids
called it, stretch up their stalks to catch the
sunlight. Along the brook which rippled be-
meath the bank were clumps of forget-me-
notS, like plump cushions of olive plush
wrought with baby blue floss. The pathway
is worn by the tread of the villagers on
Sundays. This modest church is very an
Gent, some parts of it dating back to 1900
A small chap, the son of the Saxon, y
showed the old pews, which have been occu-
pied by the elite Of the town ever since
Cromwell went through the country slash
ing right and left. On one post was the
trunk Of carved dragon, whose head was
severed by one stroke of the sword of that
ironclad Christian warrior. Every old relic
like the rickety old semicircular chests, in
which were spread out, without wrinkle the
priests garments, and the trippled locked
box for Peters pence, are preserved. The
Saxon usually expatiates upon them, multi
plying his heads to ninthly and tenthly, I'M
til he sees your hand aiming for your pocket,
when the glimpse of the shining sixpence
brings abruptly his discourse to its final per-
Grafton. Our free and wholesale way of
providing for the wants of the people has not
given the scope for expression of the senti-
ment and even whims of individuals that has
resulted here from private benefactions.
Even the watering troughs on the. wayside
have quaint inscriptions, such as passages of
Scripture, and the following, "To the glory
of God, and the refreshment of man and
beast this fountain is erected by
While the masses are made to feel by these
and similar donations their dependence upon
the favored few, the. gift has an increased
value, and the recipient enjoys the emotion
Of personal gratitude for manifold blessings
for which an American never says thank
you to anybody.
Trips were taken to many of the neighbor-
ing villages. Lynton, with its Italian luxu-
rance, Lee, with its oyerhanging rocks and
mammoth fuschias, and Woolacombe, with
its three miles of golden sands, each in its
peculiar atmosphere is imprinted upon men,
ory's page; but these are passed over in
searching for the last footprints of the old
worthless, who first feled the forests in the
ZINE Tree State, and marked out with pride
and hope, their plantations which could ri
val the estates of their lords and masters,
with whom they might never vie at home.
On the way to the station to take the train,
as advertised by the railroad company, our
driver surprised us by asking; ''Do you take
the breaks or the through train?" 1t is
amazing how much talk these English off,
Gals will make to give the traveller the most
intangible and confused bits of information.
In the end the conclusion was reached that
probably the breaks was the accommodation
train, but whatever it might be, the breaks
should be our conveyance to Taunton. The
driver whipped up his horse and in a trice
landed us at a posthouse, where passengers
were climbing to the top of 'four-in-'
or excursion stage NJ. p. B.
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