Morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven [Conn.]) 1848-1894, 1893-01-28


Under Which Gray's Elegy Was
-WInsome Way TO Words
worth's Olden Homc-An Interest
Ing Lancashire Postman Sims
Reeves and Albert tCheyalier--whaIe
Driving by Native eShetlanders-The
Merry Washerwomen of Madrid.
LONDON, Jan. 16.
To the Editor OF the JOURNAL AND COURIER.
1t has been pretty well settled by litera-
~ ferrets that Gray actually composed a
portion if not the whole of his immortal
Elegy, while sitting in the south porch of
the old Stoke Poges church, beneath the
'yew-tree's shade"
1t is one of my favorite tramps from
London 10 this spot in sunny weather, as
there is hardly sweeter or more restful
where Gray sat, beneath the yew-tree's
shade, and muse on the quiet and hal
lowed surroundings In this way the ia
nous yew-tree of Stokes Poges church
yard has come to possess for me g most
loving and precious interest. There Is no
record of its age; but as it was already q
tree of mature growth when Gray wrote,
in a churchysri between four and five
hundred years old, its antiquity must be
considerable even for the yew, which In
England atts:Ds to most venerable age.
It 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
height. The girth of the trunk is a tribe
over twelve feet; and its huge spreading
branches, reaching to the north, almost
touch the roof thing Of the church above
the porch; while towards the south and
southeast fully a dozsn branches, from
fifty to sixty feet long, sweep to the ground
or softly tap the hesdstones of the ancient
graves. 1 should think that from three to
four hundred persons could stand beneath
its gentle shade.
If you were wandering north on the
main coach road from Windermere to Kes-
wick, in the county of Westmorelsnd,
England, q stsep, wide roadway turning TO
the right and east would attract your at
tention. From the enclosures on either
eide huge beech trees and sycsmores push
tremendous srms across the walls and
completely cover the way. 1t is as shad-
owy as twilight here. You will not have
passed score of rods mp this high srched
natures aisle until the sounds from the
highway-the rumbling of the stages, the
laughter of gay tourists. and even the
notes of the stage horns-sre stilled. In
summer the place is thrOnged with birds.
Even these irreversnt choristers seem sa If
subdued and rumiustive here. In autumn
your feet sink in feathsry masses of pale
golden leaves. It seems q long time that
you have been trsversing these few rods;
all is 80 hushed and STILL
Ascending a little farther, there Is a
break in the foliage to your right. Some
huge gates are seen A lodge stands Just
beyond, and suddenly the splendid fa-
csdes of Rydal Hall, the seat of the LIS
Flemings, appear above the luxuriant
shrubbery of its splendid park. Higher
sti:l you climb, and where the dark road
way seems to make final circle over the
brow of the hill to the left, You pause to
listen. Something like low ard heeitant
organ notes is murmuring in minor chords,
while gay and joyous treble plays in eI-
ultant tones above. Ali you remember.
| These are the voices of the two cascades
of Rydal Their songs Were sung to the
poet Wordsworth for forty happy years.
Between the Littledsle fells and the
Westmorelaud hills. in the Lune valley
of Lancashire, England, In one of my re-
cent wsnderings in the lake district 1
came upon an interesting British govern
ment official. This official was a woman.
| You could not, and she would not, tell
whether she was forty or eighty years of
| age In other respects she was exceed
ingly chatty and friendly. She was near
| " six feet tall Her frame was like q
mans, and so was her face. She could
outwslk any yeomsn of the hills, and
| was firm and hard as iron. She wore
hob nailed boots, g short heavy wooden
skirt of home spinning and weaving, an
under jacket of corduroy and the gro
tesoue short-skirted, red-striped blue coat
and regulation cap of the British post
| man.
have pride in my own achievements
as a walker. but / could not keep In
pace with this woman for a half mile.
Before had, putting and painting, fallen
behind her for rest and ruminstion, /
had learned that this faithful body had
carried the British msils, often being Ia
den with from fifty to eighty pounds of
poet parcels for delivery, over twenty
miles every weekday for the past TWEEN
| ty-cne years. AS / sat on a rock by the
roadside thinking the matter over, as she
disappeared with a fine strong stride that
I envied, l could not help figuring out
with my stick in the ohalky dust of the
stony road thst she had already walked
nearly the distance of five times the earth's
circumference for the pittance of ten shil-
ltues per week, or but Ave hundred and
forty sig pounds for the entire term of
twenty Zone years drudgery!
A few mornings since 1 heard some
prIdeful conversation between "cheery"
London costermonsers and Covent Gar
be true, showing that two of the most
Tcos11suED on FOURTH PAor.l