The record-union., 1896-07-19
A PARIAH.

"I have heard that there is corn in
Egypt.
Slyne's Chare is in South Shields, and
Mag5on's chop house stands at the lower
corner Of Slyne's Chare-Mason's chop
house, where generations of honest
Tyneside sailors have consumed pounds
CT honest mutton and beef and onions
Herewith. For your true salt loves an
orion ashore, which makes him pleas
anter companion at sea. Mason's chop
house is lOwroofed, red-tiled, tarred
cottage, with a balcony-a "balcohny"
overhanging the river. 1t is quite evil
dent that the "balcohny' was originally
built, and has subsequently been kept
in repair, by ships carpenters. 1t is so
Slaringly ship-shaped, SO redolent of
tar, so ridiculouIsly strong.
The keen fresh breeze-and there is
nothing keener, fresher, stronger and
wholsomer in the world than that which
comes roaring up between the two piers
OF the Tyne-this breeze blows right
through Mason's and blows the fume of
cooking out into Slyne's Chare.
1t is evening-tea time-and the days
work is almost done, for Mason's does
little in suppers. bullet headed boy is
Mason, comfortably somnolent at the
entrance of the little kitchen, watches
her daughter-oomely, grave faced An
nle Mason-'our Annie" as she is
called, who is already folding the table
cloths. A few belated customers iinger
III the partitioned loose boxes which
lend certain small privacy to the ta-
bles. and often save a fight. They are
which are never harsh
A man comes in, after a moments
awkward pause at the open door, and
seeks a secluded seat where the gas
overhead hardly affords illuminati
He is broad-built mana Tynesider:
rot so very big for South Shields; a.
matter of six feet one, perhaps He car
ries blue spotted handkerchief against
his left cheek, and the boy with the
pewter pot stares eagerly at the other
\ boy of poor tact this, for the GUS
toner's right cheek is horribly disfig-
ured. 1t is all bruised and battered in
from the curve of square jaw to the
cheek bone which is broken But the
eye is intact; shrewd, keen eye. accus-
toned to the penetration of Northern
n.lst-accustomed to a close scrutiny
cf mems faces. 1t is painfully obvious
that this saflor-for his gait and clothes
ard manner set aside all other crafts
Is horribly conscious of his deformity.
Got the toothache 2" inquiries the tact
less youth
Inc newcomer replies in the negative
and orders cup of tea and a herring.
Ii is Annie who brings the simple meal
and sets it down without looking at the
man.
Thanks" he growls in his brown
beard, and the woman pauses suddenly.
She listens, as if hearing some distant
sound. Then she slowly turns-for she
has gone step or two from the table
and makes pretense of setting the salt
and pepper close to him.
Three ships had come up with the
afternoon tide-a coaster, a Norwegian
bark in ballast, and a full-rigged ship
with nitrate from the west coast of
South America.
Just ashore?" inquired Annie-eco-
nomical with her words. as they mostly
are round the Northern River
Aye"
From the west coast?"
"Ay," grumbles the man. He holds
the handkerchief to his cheek and turns
the herring tentatively with a fork.
You'll find it's good enough fish,"
says the woman bluntly. Her two
hands are pressed to her comely bosom
in singular way.
"Ay," says the man again, as if he had
no other word
The clock strikes g. and the boy. more
mindful of his own tea than his neigh
bor's ailments, slips cn his jacket and
goes home. The last customers dawdIe
out with grunt intended for a saluta-
ton. Mrs. Mason is softly heard to
srore. And all the while Annie Mason
all the color vanished from her whole
some face-stands with her hands
clutching her dress. gazing down at the
man. who still examines the herring
with self-conscience awkwardness.
"Geordie," she says. They are all
| called Geordie in South Shields.
"Ay, lass" he answers, shamefacedly.
Annie Mason sits down suddenly-op-
pcsite him. He does not look up, but
| remains. his face hale hidden by the
spotted blue handkerchief, a picture of
self-conscious guilt and shame.
What did ye do it for, Geordie 2"
| she asks, breathlessly. Eleven years,
come March-oh, it was cruel"
What did / do it for?" he repeats.
| What did do it for? Why, lass, can't
ye see my face?'
| He drops the handkerchief and holds
| up his poor SCARED countenance He
does not look at her, hut away past her
with the pathetic shame of a manned
deg. The cheek thus suddenly exposed
| to view is whole and brown and healthy
1 Beneath the mahogany colored skin
there is a glow sinSularly suggestive
of blush.
"Ay, 1 see your face" she answers,
with a note of tenderness for the poor
Scared cheek. Il hope you haven't
been at the drink
He shakes his head with a little sad
smile THAT twists up his one sided
mouth.
rs is because you wanted to get shot
OF me?' asks the woman with a sort of
breathlessness. She has large gray-blue
eyes with a look of constant waiting in
| them-a habit of looking up at the open
door at the sound of every footstep
'D--n it, Annie. Could / come back
10 you with face like this, and you the
Lrettiest lass on the Tyneside?"
She is fumbling with her apron-string.
There is -coquettish bend of her
| head-with the gray hairs already at
the temple-awakened perhaps by
So me far-off echo in his passionate
voice. She looks up slowly, and does not
answer his question.
| Tell us" she saws SLOWLY "TeIl us