The record-union., 1897-08-14
FELLSIDE IDYLLS.
An ophelia of the Fel1s.

"BelP' Inn, and the post-office, the cot
tages are set here and there among the
fields, often at some distance from the
roadway. Among the most isolated Of
these scattered homesteads is the
dwelling of Jacob Stubbs and his
daughter Ophelia. 1t lies on the north
easterly side of the village, where the
pasture lands spreads upward toward
the fells, and in earlier days, with its
Ettle group of sheltering trees and
fertile patch of garden, it bore a 1~l-
spicuOus air of comfort and prosperity
Twenty years ago, indeed, Jacob was a
man of mark in Langton, and at the
Bell Inn no social gathering would
have been thought complete without
him. He had been a tailor at some
time or other, but the little cottage and
a small yearly income having been lett
him by relative, he had settled down
IN the village with no occupation but
to till the garden and manage the little
orchard on his property. This left him
plenty of leisure for promenading the
village streets in an ancient frock coat
and tall silk hat and carrying walk
ing stick which he would have scorned
TO use for walking; plenty of time, too,
for a pipe and a glass of beer in the
parlor of the Bell" whenever there
happened to be congenial company
there In those days Jacob played the
gentleman with quite a royal air; what
he chiefly wanted was an audience, and
as listening is dry work it is but fair
to say that he was seldom too much
preoccupied to notice when a mans
glass was empty. It was a rare thing
at that time to see strangers in the
village; a few hundred acres of shoot
ing to let in the neighbOrhOOd brought
two or three guns to the "Belp every
autumn, but beyond that there was
neither attraction nor accommodation
for visitors; such as there We're, how
ever, were introduced, as a point of
honor to Jacob Stubhs and the ad-
miring village stood round while he
discoursed on things eternal.
Jacob had a fine tact in beginning a
conversation. He could gauge the
tastes of newcomer to a nicely, and
would talk of sport, or politics, or the
crops, as the occasion demanded. with
equal fluency and irrelevance. But
however the conversation might begin,
the end Of it was certain. Very soon
would come the opportunity for a
sounding quotation from Shakespeare,
and with that Jacob would mount his
hobby, which he rode with a loose rein.
our greatest poet, sir. living or deaf!
Many people prefer Byron-youth. sir,
youth did myself when I was young.
But for grasp, sir and real power, give
me Shakespeare. Hamlet sir was his
first conception. I will not deny that
there is a charm, d great charm, about
his lighter fancies, but for grasp, sir,
give me Hamlet I called my son
Hamlet. sir. Unfortunately I lost him,
but my daughter, my only child, is
Ophelia. Type Of purity, sir. Even
Shakespeare himself has drawn no
more perfect woman"
Jacob was good for an hour or two of
this kind of thing, whenever he could
find an audience. As the years went by
he talked more and worked less. and
by the time his daughter was grown up
the little property had dwindled so that
their weekly income was very small in
deed. 1t is to be feared that much of
the time that Jacob was enjoying his
own high-sounding phrases in the par
lor at the Bell" Ophelia sat patiently
plying her needle in the little cottage
IN the effort to exc out their scanty
livelihood
What was the true history Of that
gentle soul no one ever knew. A shy
child, a dull school girl AN industrious
young woman-so she had appeared to
the neighbors. She made no friends,
and she was scarcely ever seen out of
the cottage. In those days she hardly
rfc.tc MOO
at all, beside the robust and exuberent
personality of her father. Whatever
dreams she may have cherished in her
secret heart, whatever passions may
swayed her, there was to outward
seeming, nothing romantic about her
but her name, though in her face there
glimmered from time to time an uncer-
tain pale prettiness, that might in hap
pier circumstances. almost have become
beauty. In what guise temptation came
to her, how far she was deceived, how
far persuaded, none could even guess.
When it was found one morning that
Ophelia was missing, the gossips of the
village were silent with amazed specu-
lation. No one had so much as a sug-
gestion to offer. Search was made for
her in the neighborhood, and inquiries
We're set on foot, but the flight had been
craftily oontrived, and no trace Of her
could be discovered.
The effect of this trouble on Jacob
Stubs was overwhelming. He lost his
upright carriage and jaunty air, and in
a day he seemed to become a bent old
man. He deserted altogether the Bell
parlor and the village street. and he
would ramble for whole days over the
fells in quest of his daughter. He held
firmly to the belief that some accident
had bCfallen her, and he would spend
hours peering into the rocky clefts on
the hilltops, poking his stick among the
heather, and searching under the pine
trees that clothe the steep slopes at
the foot of the crags He grew gaunt
and thin. and the frock coat, which in
former times he had filled so handsome
ly hung in folds about his body. It
was no longer possible to draw him into
conversation, even about his beloved
Shakespeare. Sometimes he would get
as far as saying:
"A great poet; ay, you may say that.
a great poet, sir!" and then. as if ir-
restibly led on to think of his finest
conception, sir" and so of his own loss,
he would break off with deep sigh and
relapse into silence.
one evening in the late autumn,
about q year after his daughters dis
appearance, Jacob was sitting over the
FIRE. for he was cold and weary with
a Ions tramp over the wet heather.
aENQF8s