The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1891-10-10
and settle down quietly again, not yet
ready 10 nnloos0 their saucy, cllAtiorinG

tongues.
You know, as everybody knows, when
YOU have como 'tUmthe- little closely.
hedged, tiled houscs, where TIE open
highway has merged into y long pic.
turcsQue though humble street, that
were You to remain In Slratiord for n
months time there could only be just
the half dozen places Immediately iden-
tilted with ShakepedEr,&t 30 ,visiG .the
house where he wns born, the vacant
site Of the house where he livodiat New
Place, the church where lie ~ buried,
Ann ilathnway's cottage, and the me-
mortal fountain and tleatGr. And while
you could see these in an hours time,
tho impulse, now that they are 80 near
your ken, Is 10 avoid them; TO wander
away through tho town for Il little nj
first, and, sinking OF the drcamful cap
t!vlIy OF II all, to try md como buck to
those objects and plNceso ono by one,
with increased attitude and power OF
recognition and compmnionship.
AQuAlST PLACE.
You nre now in the center Of STRAIT
ford, on High street. You suddenly re.
call the curious inct that in Ill the
hundreds Of English towns you have
visited, you have always found Il lligl.
street, and th&t every place Of interest
to be seen, as ut Stratiord, Is only q few
Moments walk IRON every other place
OIL or OF this old familiar High street.
Here Is m open space, the ancient
"mercatc square" Jagged, zig2ag thor
oughlares lead TO it from outlying pic
turosqne spots and quarters. All about
are l~Nli.timhcrcd houses projecting
story over story, into tho market place;
and you wonder how long before, from
sheer aye, they will tumble, rcd roofs
first, over into the clean, cool square be-
low. Quaint shops, just now opening,
| are pincllcd in between stud old muil-
sions. Bandboxos OF inns, scores OF
tlcm. each striving to Quito the other
in curious name or c%scutchGon sugceS-
tive OF the one memory Of tho slumbCr.
Gus old town, spcrli the gray facadcs
with gilt and color.
Down one Of these streets, OLD Henley
street, through whose windings Il
glimpse OF the uplands is caught, you
know is to be found the house Of all
Others in Stratforl. But you turn in
the opposite direction. You pass an
ancient inn named for the bard. Each
OF its rooms IL named for some one Of
the characters he created. Servants
arc higgle. hag9l'ng with Il ~rosy-facca
huckste. owe the price oil vegetables on
its comfortable porch. Old stone
houses with tho oldest OF peaks, gables
and pont-housea over huge oalicn doors
are passed. At some, old men and
women nrc nodding, even in these morn
ing hours, at the open windows. Soon
there is 4 vista Of trees shutting out all
beyond save 4 gray stone porch. With
out knowledge of Stratiord topography
yon have conc with uncrring instinct
straight to holy Trinity church and
graveyard. An ancient vergcrL with
~snow-white huir Is shifting along The
lcat-strcwn pavement. lie p0uses. and
with . loud jangling OF his huge keys,
he unlocks the wicket, then the wide,
low oakon doors, and is shortly lost
among the shadows within. You steal
softly after him. Somewhere in the
dimplace the old man is whistling us ii
for company, In low tones as becomes
an old, old man but somehow it checks
your impulse to enter; and YOU wander
around and around the shadow shrine,
hating ut iastnexttheside Of the chan
eel nearest whcrcrouknow that Shakes
pearc lies. You lay your hand gently
on the cold gray stones as ii CROPPING for
the touch OF 4 heal but unseen friend.
How long your rcverr has been, you
know not; bu: II tiny, iconoclast;c
sparrow, scr.dchihGIal.ilon:...t gravel
at your feet, looks so quizzically into
yon- iaca tAa; you hprrYiashamed
awaT,. - %
SnAEEspEARE's GRAVE.
a few steps among the graves beneath
huge elms bring You to the river side,
ior the Avon he loved lavcs the sides
OF the chprchyqrd walls, Il. is SO still
and silenA icre$you feel thaIs3tl,c very
spirit OF the stream is flushed i'll obc:s.
ance and reverence for the spot its
waters are passing. On the ilrtllcr side
are long, lonesome meadows. y few
sheep arc grazing there. Up tho stream
to the right, above the masses OF trees
and tiles looms the huge, obese Memoir
inl hail. You resent it rs YOU have
already turned away from the perky
white fountain in mellow old High
street. Everything modern here that
seeks TO memorabilia mon o committees
OF to-day through fantastic memorials
TO this very sun Of the English race aud
tongue, hurts you with its brazen i'm.
pcrtinenco.
You turn, pass through the church
yard, and saunter along in the quiet Of
Mill Lane. Al its end Is q ruusEGcklo
mill, nobody knows how many centuries
old. The splash OF the wheel has q
!rowsy sound. 4 foot-path leads to Il
NOISY wooden bridge. You cross this,
take to the meadow, with the river,
church and town to your left, and.cross
the ticlJsito ahottcry. Here is 4 typical
English village, crisscroocdf with stone
walls, and hedges cut in high box pat.
terms, and brown with matched roofs,
SO old that birds and mice use them ior
nests, while wild field flowers and weeds
grow luxuriously upon them. I%nstinc.
lively you approach the oldest and
%qnAintcst structure i'll Shottery. 1tS
gable ~overhangs the lane. Its south
side faces a maze OF vines and flowers
and four tiny windows, hooded
by the thatc!ing, peep over into
the breeze and bloom. 1t is Ann Hath
away's cottage. \ pleasant old woman,
whom youiicel must have known the
maid and the man, lust!es about
shows you the interior; the ancient
settle" where tho loyc-making was
done, the visitors book with its price.
less autographs, even the hcirlooms Of
linen moro lasting than clligy or ccno.
tuph OF stone, the while chatting cheer
liz. as Ii the lids oil Tina ALWAYS oncnnl