The record-union., 1893-01-28
Especial Correspondence of the RECORD
UNION. Copyright. 1881
TaDuaru 1f 1902

Especial Correspondence of the RECORD
UNION. Copyright, 1881
LONDON, January 16, 1898.
It has been pretty well settled by liter
ary ferrets that Gray actually composed
portion, if not the whole, of his immor-
tai Elegy while sitting in the south porch
of the old Stoke Poges Church beneath
the ''yew trees shade"
1t is one of my favorite tramps from
London to this spot in sunny weather, as
there is hardly sweeter or more restful
place in all England, and 1 love to sit
where Gray sat, beneath the yew trees
shade, and muse on the quiet and hal
lowed surroundings. In this way the ia
nous yew tree of Stoke Poges church.
yard has come to possess for me a most
loving and precious interest. There is no
record Of its age, but as it was already a
tree of mature growth when Gray wrote,
in a churchyard, between 400 and 500
years old, its antiquity must be consid-
cradle even for the yew, which, in Eng
land, attalns to most venerable age.
1t stands fifty feet south of the old
stone south porch of the church. Its top
has been repeatedly cut away to preserve
the tree, which is still about thirty feet
IN hight. The girth of the trunk is a
tritle over twelve feet, and its huge
spreading branches, reaching to the
north, almost touch the roof tiling of the
church above the porch, while toward
the south and southeast fully a dozen
branches, from fifty to sixty feet long,
sweep 10 the ground or softly tap the
headstones of the ancient graves. should
think that from 800 to 400 persons could
stand beneath its gentle shade.
If you were wandering north on the
main coach road from Windermere to
keswick, in the County of Westmoreland,
England, a steep, wide roadway turning
to the right and east would attract your
attention. From the Enclosures on either
side huge beech trees and sycamores
push tremendous arms across the walls
and completely cover the way. 1t is as
shadowy as twilight here. You will not
have passed a score of rods up this high
arched natures aisle until the sounds
from the highway-the rumbling of the
stages, laughter OF gay tourists, and even
the notes of the coach horns - are
stiIled. In summer the place is thronged
with birds. Even these irreverent Choir
listers seem as if subdued and ruminative
here. In autumn your feet sink IN feath-
cry masses of pale golden leaves. 1t
seems a long time that you have been
traversing these few rods, all is SO hushed
and still.
Ascending little further there is a
break III the foliage to your right. Some
huge gates are seen. \ lodge stands lust
beyond, and suddenly the splendid IA
cades of Rydal Hall, the seat of the LIE
Eiemings, appear above the luxuriant
shrubbery of its splendid park. Higher
still you climb, and where the dark road
way seems TO make a final circle over the
brow OF the hill to the left, you pause to
listen. Something like low and hesitant
organ notes is murmuring in minor
chords, while gay and joyous treble
plays in eXultant tones above. All! YOU
rememb Der. These are the voices of the
two cascades of Rydal. Their songs were
sung to the poet Wordsworth for forty
happy years.
Between the Littledale fells and the
Westmoreland bills, in the Lune Valley
OF Lancashire, England, in one of nv re-
cent wanderings in the lake district l
came upon an anlnteresting British Govern
ment official. This official was a woman
Nou could not, and she would not. tell
whether she was 40 or so years of age.
In other respects she was exceedingly
chatty and friendly. She was nearly 81 X
feet tall. Her frame was like a mans.
and so was her face. She could outwalk
any yeoman OF the hills, and was firm and
bard as iron. She wore hob-nailed boots
a short, heavy wooden skirt of home
spinning and weaving, an under-iacket
of corduroy and the grotesque Short
skirted, red-striped blue coat and regu-
lation cap OF the British postman.
l have pride i'll my own achievements
as walker, but could not keep in pace
with this woman for half mile. Before
had, putting and painting, fallen behind
her for rest and rumination, had learned
that this faithful body had carried the
British mails, often being laden with
from fifty to eighty pounds of post parcels
for delivery, over twenty miles every
week day tor the past twenty-one years
AS l sat on q rock by the road side think
ing the matter over, as she disappeared
with fine, strong stride that l envied, |
could not help figuring out with NV stick
in the chalky dust of the stony road that
she had already walked nearly the dis
tance of five times the earth's circumfer-
ence for the pittance of ten shillinps per
week, or but e546 for the entire term OF
twenty-one years drudgery!
A few mornings since I heard some
prideful conversation between "cheery''
London costermongers and Covent Gar
den porters, which l afterward found to
be true, showing that two of the most IA
NOUS singers London has ever known,
reached fame through the peculiar and
hard training originally secured among
the lowly of their ilk. Albert Chevalier
Z
personators, practically lived among the
costers for years, and the marvellous
fidelity Of his songs and impersonations
of coster life and character were wholly
gained in this manner. sims Reeves, the
one tenor who, for nearly half century,
held all the song lovers OF Britain en-
shaved, once carried the knot" that is
the head-pad, of a Coyent Garden por-
ter, and got his start as a singer in the
former foul dens within the sound of
Bow bells.
When your tourist fancy leads you into
Scotland, go further, 1t is but a little
sea jaunt from Aberdeen, Peterhead or
Wick, to the Shetland Islands. Their
people are very hospitable, possessing
many pleasant ancient customs, and there
is no end to modern historic and pagan
monuments of strange and curious inter
est. y OF the least OF your pleasures there
will be witnessing a drive o. ealing
whales" which you are almost certain TO
do, if your visit to the islands happen in
May or June.
The Peterhead and other whaling ships
formerly completed their crews at Ler-
wick, and these times were always peri-
ods of great activity. OF late years Shet-
lands interest in whaling has been prin-
cipally confined to driving the monsters
ashore. This exciting work is often tre-
mendousiy profitable. In 1915 a great
shoal of l540 a'ing'' whales were driven
ashore in Quendale Bay, the southern
most Bay of Shetland, lying between
Sumberg and F'itful Heads, and in June.
two years ago, a shoal of several hun.
dred was successfully landed on the east
coast.
Until quite recently these shore whal-
ers were lily requited for their captures,
The financially omniverous landlord.
called the ''Iaird' here, true to his octo-
pus instincts, claimed the right, up to