The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-07-21
TALES OF TEN TRAVELLERS.
THE vERGERs' DAUGHTERS.
ny EDGAR l.. wAKEMEs.

with some hesitation. q never enter an old-world cathedral without awe in my heart apart and distinct from that di- rect and unconscious reverence which the sacred character of the structure impels.
 This Is because I stand in q spot which is n tomb of innumerable per sonages who have assisted in making. or have gained places in the worlds history; because the upbuilding, preser- walton, destruction. rehabilitation of what my hands may touch or eyes be- hold, have often changed dynasties, impoverished treasuries. created pill grlmages and sacrificed countless lives; and more than all else because. for cen- tury after century, thousands upon thousands of great minds have with matchless fidelity given of their best effort or absolutely their lives devo- tion, towards the perfection of this mighty prayer in stone.
 I mention this personal feeling and tendency in these matters because they connected me with a pleasant life TO- nance growing out of reverential pill grimage, during my earlier years among the cathedrals of England; and will relate the somewhat curious incidents, as nearly as can recall them, precise as they occurred"
 Through the generosity, of my patron and uncle, Kirby Dorklin, who had re- turned from his extensive mining oper- ations at Ballarat in time to witness my ordination, I had taken orders at Oxford, had just entered orders and was as happy, hopeful and proud young clergyman as could be found in all the United Kingdom.
 As for Kirby Dorklin, his happiness knew no bounds.
 At times it took on the form of almost ecstatic imbecility. He, would sit by the half hour and regard me with grin ming face, open mouth and a trembling little shake of his grizzled old head, which would always terminate in his always closing his eyes and giving vent to some explosive expression in- dicative of his lack of verbal power to fully convey his enjoyment.
 "Bless me! bless me! Robert Dork lin," he would say, tits all like the gold of Ballarat-twenty-thr and half karats fine, in every pennyweight O thinkin' of it; so it is indeed, Robert Dorklinv
 Then the good grizzled old fellow would stamp up and down the apart ment, puff hard at his pipe, mop his red face, red forehead and the shiny red crown of his hard, knotty head with his. fiery red handkerchief and poke his huge walking stick gayly and vigorously at the furniture and chan delier, as though merrily besting some invisible antagonist.
 I would of course, thank him again and again for the kindness which had led to this mutual delight. This always had curious results. The old fellow would stiffen up with:
 Not bit of 1t! Not bit of it! Non- sense! Tut, tut, tut! Thank the 'toth- CT one; not me. Thank the hussey- mussey-fussey; not me. Thank the udge-budge-mudge: not me. Thank the ninny- -pinny- -winny; not me. Aha, wouldn't the 'tother one like to know how the 'tother one was fooled, and what the 'tother one has missed? Per haps not, though! Bah!'
 Then he would whip his arms around his body gleefully, hug himself as if inexpressibly enjoying "tother one's' imaginary discontinue over his long cunning and present happiness, and temporarily end his strange antics by embracing me and pitifully begging me to never become .entangled with "tother one," in which case all would be well.
 Strange old soul! As grateful to him as was, as much as really loved him, despite his often offensive eccentrici- ties, there was to me something deeply pathetic in these expressions of child like happiness, thinly disguised victory over the mysterious "tother one" and his plaintive implied pleadings that no love affair on my part should ever change or lesson the affection between us.
 For Uncle Kirby Dorklin, so the leg end in our family ran, had suffered in . love affair, which had made him what he was and all he was. g A, quarter of a century before, some where in England he had come upon mite of a maiden, fair as an English rose. He, had loved this girl madly. Some foolish misunderstanding arose; . week later he had found himself on board a vessel bound for Melbourne, shaking his fist in bitterness back at his native land; and he had never once returned until, rich and old in appear ance, if not in years, he had come to gloat over the success that I, his pro- tege, had made, and to lavish upon me an effection which in youth had been untimely diverted from its proper source.
 So far as our family could learn, he had never divulged any of the particu- lars of the infatuation or its unfortu- nate ending; nor had he written to friend or relative for years. In dim way only we all knew that he was pros- pering. ...
 Suddenly brief word came that he had decided my career should be o1or3ool nuo. an ulv