Delaware gazette and state journal., 1896-07-30
NOTES OF TRAVEL.

TO have no roof above my head. But
that whereon the gods do tread" So
walked miles over hills and valleys,
and past black, fathomless mountain
tarns, in search Of white heather, now
almost eradicated, but which is popu-
'larly supposed to bring good luck to its
finder. My search was in vain as re-
CARDS the heather, but stored my
memory with images OF high green
solitudes on the wind-swept hill tops,
whose silence was only broken by the
cawing OF crows, or the bleating of
lambs, and where | met no living
creature except the sheep who after
staring at me moment, scurried away.
Mountains circled me behind; the
lonely twin peaks OF Ben Cruachan in
front; Ben More with his head in the
clouds, and the sea at his feet. AS the
sun set a glorious light of purple, red
and gold lit up peak after peak away
Pearl OF the highlands; Scotland's brightest
gem.
Sit thou, fair Oban. Nesting meath the hills
Nature puts on her gayest robe for thee.
And heather-bells fling amethystine light
Over thy sternest crags and widest glens,
Till thou art like yery fairy land.
Would could dwell amid thy loveliness,
Needless OF all'the tumult of the world,
And hear the music of thy leaping burns,
And sail across thy mountain-sheltered bay
Thus seeing naught but grandeur and delight
I'd live such life 0f perfect peace on earth.
As should prepare me for the peace of
heaven.
The skies were weeping over oban
ae we bade 1T adieu, and seemed To
make even moro impressive the gloom
of the black pass of Brander. or the
innumerable peaks, some were pale
with distance, others, near by, on
their lower slopes, rosy with heather
deepening into purple under the flying
clouds on their submits. One startling
glimpse met US. Clouds obscured a
moment from the summit, and left,
above our heads, a mass of something
purple and gray, SCARED with great
seams and glistenipg in full sunshine,
the stones on its summit. 1t seemed
fragment of some other world that might
fall upon our heads.
We took our last view of the High
lands from the walls of Shilling Castle,
and peeped through the loophole In the
wall where Mary Stuart used to watch
the games in the valley below. At
Edinburgh We did little that every
visitor does not do, xcept perhaps to
go to Portobello, the queer, foreign
looking seaside, or rather frtb,side
resort Of Edinburgh, and by tramcar
to Newhayen to see tha fsherwives in
their haunts. They were grouped about
| the doors OF their quaint, high -perGhed
cottage5, stringipg mussels for bait
for the next days fishing. An artist
would have reveled in the scene. Every
visitor to Edinburgh should go out to
see them as their picturesque costume
will soon belong to the things of the
past. While / was admiring it, an
| old man, sitting by, chirped in Aye
| and ye'd ought To seedhem of Sun
das, traipsin' in their long skirts
and high-heeled boots that's what it's
come to. !" The best time to go would
be by O'Clock in the morning, when
| the boats come in, and. gathered on
the pier, they chatter and bid for the
"caller herrin'; new drawn frae the
FORTH" by husband, brother or sweet
| heart. ID 81 .fl 4
At Oxford we are iumicilsd with a
survivor of the "Charge OF the Light
| Brigade who cahnot bear, however,
| to speak of his experiences on that ter
rible ride. We wander along the old
streets, mid The bewildering iniinjty of
colleges whose open carved doorways
give tempting glimpses of grass covered
"Quads,n and sculptured towers and
cloisters, and battlemented walls, and
chapels, rich In stsihed glass windows
and oak carvings black with age.
4 Beyond another gateway spread tne
college gardens, with turf smooth and
\ fne as velvet, and gay borders of
flowers and magnificent old trees.
| Sitting under the great sycamore in
Magdalen gardens, listen to the chatter
of the rocks in the, tres tops, or watch
the deer dappled with sun and shade as
| they Craze in the park, while read
between them Charles Lamb thoughts
on f'Oxford in Vacation" Here i
can take my walks unmolested and
fancy myself of what standing please.
| The walks are so much one's own the
tall trees of Christ's, the groves of Mag
dalen. The halls deserted, with wide
open doors inviting one to step in, un-
perceived, and pay devoir to some
founder. y ~ Then to take a
peep in at the butteriea and sculleries,
redolent of antique hospitality; the
immense caves OF Ritchehs, Kitchen
firepaces cordial reeesses, ovens whose
first piee were baked four centuries
ago, and spits which have cooked for
Chaucer. Antiquity, thou wondrous
charm. what art thou? That being
nothing art everything. When thou
vert, thou vert not antiquity, thou
vert nothing, but hads't remoter
antiquity, as thou call'st it to look
back to with blind veneration, thou
thyself being fat, modern. a
"Under the shadow of the mighty
Bodey'' the aggregated. learning OF
even dip into it , but fingered over
the Shelley relics; the lovely minis-
lures of he and Mary, and locks oil
their hair. The volume of Sopboeles
taken from Sheley's pocket after he
was drowned, still holding the imprint
of his thumb where he was reading it,,
and his watch, stopped at the moment
he went down, brought to my mind all
the tragic story of the end which came
to them without moments warning,
and of the two poor wild, ghast wives,
searching the shore to learn their fate,
and the agony of the enforced suspense
In the lonely old waye-dashed house.,
until the sea cast up its dead, and they
knew the worst.
On Sunday went to church at St.
Mary-the-V Virgins. The sermon was
good and the choral service beautiful,
but through il | remembered how by
the pillar in front of me, Archbishop
CraDmer stood when he took back bis
recantation, and said, "forasmuch as