The record-union., 1892-12-31

youi Tear your tickets from you; throw
your baggage after you; commiserate
you: wheedle you; take your pourboire
and hurl you, as from catapult, into a
carriage compartment, where, sick in
pody and demented in mind, you sink
exhausted into perturbed sleep as the
hour OF is tolled from the ghostly tow
ers OF the Calais churches; haunted by
dreams OF Brobdignagian,g audily- dressed
guards continuing infinite tortures
through compartment windows, supple
mented by invisible chOruses OF
d" Je vous remercie!
Pardonnez moir'
fitted to the staccato of the wheels upon
the rails, ever after carried in the mem
DRY like some internal realization of a
witch-wailed "Walpurgis Night"
There is a great distinction between
British tipping" and American Tip
ping" in Great Britain. Your true Briton
tips" with something like unconscious
kindhness. We Americans who travel
IN Europe bestow our gratuities largely,
loosely, loudly, as though we were either
defylng criticism or resenting petty brig
andage.
quite as striking a difference will be
found III the disposition of all British
serving people in their acceptance of
tips" from Briton or foreigner They
manner arouses their antagonism or Gu
pldlty, or both. But they are veritable
lambs TO their own folk, and the English
man, VINO is the greatest of travellers in
MS own country, viii leave a shining
tralI OF gratitude and good will behind
MN by the JudiciouS use OF copper only,
when we pertorce follow in perturbation
and discomfort, though We spangle our
way with silver.
| have sean the EuUIicb ci5n Of tbic 70 ~
illustrated on countless occasions. Only
recently while waiting for a London
Iraln at the great Rugby Station, hand
some, portIy, venerable gentleman alight-
cd from the carriage OF train from Cow
entry. A porter fastened to his assist
ance and conducted him to a comfortable
seat next the door where l stood. Then
he struggled with the luggage. There
were altogether sixteen parcels. Four
were huge leather handbags, each of the
SIZE and weight of a marketable Liner
lex pig. They We're all finally tidily
piled alongside the distinguished trav-
eIer. The latter's hand went into his
pocket where there was apparently much
com, and surely, l thought, it will reap
pear with at least a shilling, possibly
with half crown. l could not help see
ing 1t was only ha'penny. But the
bland and perfect grace with which it
was bestowed, and the momentary, half
conscious look OF attention and sympathy
which accompanied it, were what filled
me with amaZement and admiration
The porter, still blowing from eXertion,
touched his cap with a glad sort Of hui
mlllty and said, "Ihankee, SIR" in a tone
OF positive gratitude. In response to my
own 'thripenny bit'' and an inquiry who
the gentleman that clipped" with half
pennies might be, the sorter answered
heartily:
'lm? WY ee's the Earl Of. An
VERY fine man ee is, SIR"
What an excellent courier he would
makeW l could not help thinking and
saying.
''Doan't know as to that, sir" replied
the porter admiringly; ''but ee's very
line man, sir; VERY good un to ee's peo-
pie"
One of the sweetest Iassies in all Scot
land, one of the best mothers and one OF
line sturdiest OF fathers, are dear friends
OF mine at Dumfries, Scotland. The
lassie is Jean Armour Burns Brown.
Her mother is the daughter Of the Oldest
and besJ-beloved of Robert Burns sons,
Robert Burns, Jr., who was himself a
true poet and man of profound and in
teIlectual attainment. This mother and
daughter are the immortal bard's nearest
living relatives. The home is modest and
plain, but rich in love, sentiment and the
most priceless OF human sympathies, and
have long since rome to love this truly
lovable Scottish home for the man
hood, womanhood and purity that dwell
within it.
They are not rich people these, not
even folk of moderate means, but there
IS true nobility in their ever fine and
lofty independence which honors the
memory OF the bard whose fame bestowed
no little honor upon them. Some one
conceived the idea of constructing a du-
plcate of the Burns Cottage" at Aver,
IN which the poet was born, for exhibit
ton at the Worlds Fair. This was all
well enough. Then some fertile mind,
devoid of SensitiVeness or sentiment.
further conceived. This little family
must be corraled, Iassooed and herded in
the Burns Cottage' to be catalogued,
labeled and gazed at, like a katfir band,
a two-headed calf, or the wild Australian
children, by millions of Worlds Fair
visitors. A United States Consul in Scot
land has just broke the hilarious news
OF what was expected of them of these
reputable descendants Of Robert Burns
III Dumfries, and the gentle but dignitied
reply he has received will undoubtedly
be omitted from his forthcoming consul
late memoirs, to be entitled Riffs in the
Mists of Aud Reekie."
descendants it is also an interesting fact
that the Ellisland farm-home of Roberl
Burns has just been thrown open to the
public. This house, on the banks OF the
songtul NTH, about six miles north OF
Dumfries, is standing as sturdiIy TO-DAY
as when its strong walls were completed
by Robert Burns own hands. If there is
to be Burns Cottage at the Worlds
Fair, this is the one which should be
copied, or at least those having the mat
ter in charge should recognize the truth
that its representation would infinitely
more emphatically memorize flair Coila's
bard" than prototype of the Aver Cot
tage wherein he was born.
This Nith-side cottage is halIowed bv q
myriad sacred memories of Burns. He
built 1t while singing many a lusty song
to his absent love and wife. When done
il was TO his honest eyes tairer than anv
palace in Britain. To it he brought his
adorned Jean, preceded by a peasant
girl carrying the family Bible and bowl
OF salt" The most of his children were
born within its walls. 1t was the one
Eden of labor, love and song that the
poet and his wife ever knew
There are hundreds of visible relics still
at the Ellisland Cottage of the poets own
handiwork. He was the great, the inn
mortal Burns, more for his life within
this humble home than for all else OF
earthly accomplishment, for here were
produced, among scores of minor poems,
his most ecstatic achievement, liam o;
Shanter," written in a day and denom-
mated by Alexander Smith ''Since Bruce
fought Bannockburn, the best single
days work done in Scotland" his mag
nificent battle-piece, 1.-THE Song of Death ;,
his wonderful satire. The Kinks Alarm -
his matchless embodiment of connubial
affection, John Anderson my Jo," 80
blaw .he westIin Winds" his address 10
the Nith,' son Seeing a Wounded
Hare" that grand Address to the Shade
of Thomson" ''Of a. the ARTS the winds
can blaw," and that divinest of all his
odes, ITO My Mary in Heaven"