The record-union., 1894-08-04
THE E'ENING BRINGS A HAME.

Copyright, 1894, by Edgar /. Wakeman. AL
rights reservedl
The genius of the Morose Traveller
had always seemed TO be entirely one
of observant and possibly critical appre'
citation.
He usually sat silent among Us with
his head resting in the palms OF his hands
upon his chair back. His face partly
turned to the oaken rafters of the ceiling,
betrayed little index to his emotions
Perhaps he had none, we sometimes
thought, and even remarked.
We had noticed that one eye was often
cooked and squinted towards certain
knots and their radiating seams in the
beams overhead, and we had come to
look upon him as the one nature among
us ever alert for flaws.
That any manner of romance had ever
stirred his silent life was to us a gro
tesque idea, even as an idle reflection,
and it was strange experience and Gu
rious pleasure to have him at last look
around upon US with little start of sus-
picion and prophetic temerity, which in
stantly effected a solemn silence i'll the
room. Observing this, the MOrose Tray
eler resumed his fixed inspection of the
ge-blackened ceiling, and half apologeti-
cally began the following singular nara
tive in low and measured tones.
The inexplicabie habit of martial bru-
tality, which is often sayagely ltenslhea
with advancing age, and its possible cure
IN the face of keen and apparently ire
vocable human loss, were never so I'M
pressively revealed 10 me as on the occa-
sion of recent visit to the famous and
infamous Scottish border village OF Gret-
ma Green.
The Journey was made partly in the in
terest of client, one OF the heirs 10
considerable estate, and partly Tor relax
alton and pleasure.
''Take YOUR summer vacation in the
North" suggested the senior member OF
our firm, land secure the proofs of mar
riage necessary in the HeXam estate case
at the same time. You will see a bit OF
historic border country, and Pll warrant
you that you'll be able TO dig up some as
quaint and curious people and things at
Gretna as are to be found in the United
Kingdom"
1t was strange conceit for a summer
vacation, but l fell in with it at once;
took the night train from London for the
North; breakfasted at ole Carlisle and
early the same day alighted from Dunn
fries- bound train at the pretty but lonely
station of Gretna,
1t stands beside the once great coach
road from Carlisle to Glasgow. SO far as
human eyes could discern not soul had
housing within its half dozen ruinouS
habitauons. Not youthful nor wrinkled
face pressed against tiuy window pane as
l passed. No dirty border children
H. Il f1-o in nd rTr nf
pleasant hedges. And not even the
snarl cf watchful cur contributed to the
fact of arrival, or conveyed sense OF
welcome.
I knocked bravely at few doors with
out even awakening an echo. Where
echo is dead, reelected, it is dead and
silent indeed. | finally struggled into
the old kirkyard. The kirk door was
locked fast. l prowled about the ivy
covered manse behind. Here lived, l
knew, one of those remnants of half
dead and altogether breathless ecclesiaS-
tia system, parish minister; but evil
IDENTIFY he, too, was past awakening.
Then l wandered among the graves.
There was at least interest, if not life,
here.
That extraordinary priest of Hymen,
the first bishop of Gretna" immortal
lied by the verse of Hood, he who had
defed bulls of Popes, bullying of Lord
Chancellors and edicts of Kings. fat, old,
brandy-guZZling Joseph Paisley, lies in
that Gretna kirkyard, and the path TO his
humble hearthstone is worn deeper than
TO the grave of him OF purest life. or
highest title, who is now commoner in
the same last mold.
His successors as priests" of the irreg-
ular Gretna marriages are buried near,
and their headstones are also shrines for
the curious. Could all the couples. or
descendants of all the couples. in Eng
land and Scotland, that those three men
Joined together, unite in visiting the
graves of those to whom they owe their
connubial joys or miseries, l unused,
what wonderful privilege it would be.
Why the old coach road would be
massed with folk, score abreast, away
back there over the Rivers Sark and Esk
TO fortress-crowned Carlisle. And there
would be Lords and Earls and real priests,
and even prelates among them, too.
/ at last became conscious of pres
ence. Turning, l saw nose OF Won
drous proportions with man OF no pro-
portions at all behind it.
The man stood motionless, but the nose
seemed possessed of life. Itgently swayed
pendulum-like in the autumn breeze as il
IN compensation of all else dead and still
at Gretna.
The man was gnarled and knotty and
old and bumped, and was clad in thai
picturesque curtailed garb of the British
Dostman whose skirts are at the waist, the
waist at the shoulders and the cuffs at the
elbows, with straight-visored head COW
ering like a truncated ounces cap, the
whole attire wrinkling and concentrating
skyward, as if Authority had the British
postman eternally in its grip at the nape
of the neck to accelerate the action of his
neither extremities.
The hands of the old man futtered
about his wrists, suggesting chilly wealth
er, and his two green little eyes, brighter
in their green for the red and rheum ol
their lashes. seemed peering over and
around his mighty nose. as If the intellec1
behind were having hard time of ii in
settling the exact status of the stranger.
If l could not have anywhere recog-
nized the old tumble of clothing and fig
nre as belonging to a British postman. the
lonely environment, the recent kirkyard
musings and the unearthly silence al
Gretna, would have conjured the fellow
as some gnome on postal service from
another world, and the first impulse o.
the situation was to hold out my hand fol
the forthcoming ghostly message.
Restraining myself In this fell in be-
side him with civil greeting, and we
trudged along together down the hal
street and half highway into the modern
but woebegone Gretna village. locally
known as the hamlet of Springfield.
The old fellow still seemed in deer
study. He would not walk beside me. 1
I crowded close upon him at one side o