The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-01-30
CHERRY,
Rr s. hanna GOuLn.
Author Of ..Mehalah," 'sThe Pennycome-
o,,ioixc ITO Etc


The little harbour OF Fowey is a mere
creek between high hills and rocks, and it
winds like letter S 1t is safe enough an
chorage in every gale except one which
blows into the very mouth of the harbor.
When that is the case, and high tide
accompanies the gale then the water is
heaped Up and rolled back inundating the
town, and surging over the banks. destroy
ing gardens and carrying away outbuild-
ings which are usually regarded as beyond
the reach Of salt water.
Such an advent is quite exceptional, and
occurs hardly once in a lifetime. Neverthe
less, 1t does occur sometimes and just as
on Vesuvius the peasants disregard former
experiences and go on cultivating and
building as though no fresh outbreak Of
the volcano was likely to happen. so in
Fowey inlet the natives till gardens and
Guild pig styes as though in their lifetime
there was not likely to be a concurrence
OF a gale from the south with the spring
tide. Just sLAh storm took place in the
year 1924, when the tide was at its height,
and then vast amount of devastation was
wrought in Fowey. But as that is i'll
wind which blows nobody any good, so
was it in this case: the gale which wrecked
ships which destroyed gardens. which
swamped cellars and spoiled goods. which
cattle away did some good to somebody
and that body was Cherry-that is to say
If the matrimonial harbor be one in which
1t is good to ride
How this happened you shall hear.
But first Of all you must hear who Cherry
was. There is little point or spit of land,
or rather of rock, that runs into the harbor
between Fowey town and the entrance to
the creek. commanded by old castles.
On this spit of rock. at the beginning of
the century. lived an old woman, Betty
Chenoweth, and her daughter Cherry. Betty
was widow. Her husband had been lost
in fishing boat, and she had been left to
struggle with adversely and had been pre-
maturely aged by the stress of the struggle.
She picked up a living by baking. On this
prong of rock Betty had set up an oven.
and she not only baked bread but also pies
and pastes and fruits for the grocer and
the artisans.
Cherry, her daughter, wandered over the
downs and reaped gorse and thorns. and
any waste brush that would make quick
fire wherewith to supply her mothers
''cloam," i. e.. earthenware oven.
The oven was small, the supply of fuel
limited to what Cherry was able to carry
home daily on her back. consequently the
income derived by Betty Chenoweth from
her bakehouse was small, SO small that it
just sufficed to maintain her and Cherry,
but not to enable them to lay by. They
eked out their substance by means of two
pigs, kept in a stye little beyond the
bakehouse. so that the watt of the stye
was carried up or down the creek accord
ing as the current of air drew in or blew
out; the bakehouse itself was sweet enough.
The life was a hard one, and Cherry had to
extend her excursions daily farther atield
after she had cut away and brought home
all the thorns, brambles, and furze near
home. The active life kept her in rude
health, and gave a ripeness and color to
her cheeks that did not make her name
misnomer.
On one and another occasion she had
come across a young coastguardsman,
named Philip Maxwell. He was not
Ccrnishman; he came from up country,
and, consequently, was not much esteemed
by the natives. who are peculiarly averse
to strangers. Added to which he was in
that service which is specially odious to a
Cornishman, who has the blood Of Snug
glers in his arteries.
But nothing had passed between them
further than an offer on the part of the
young man to assist Cherry with her bur-
den, which was promptly rejected with
Nov doan zee be a fule. You knows well
enough that a horficer like you can't carry
drashy lot O. fuz about maid. You
be paid TO do northing, you is, SO get
along
On one occasion Cherry mentioned to her
mother that Philip Maxwell had been civil
To her. but that she had kept him at a dis
tance because he was a ''furriner."
well, Cherry" the old woman replied.
pore thing, it's his misfortun', and not his
fault Us mustn't be down too hard on i'm
for that. My fathers great aunt by mar
riage were Darset woman, but / always
heard, for all that, her died happy. How
ABBOTT the pig us be goin to kill, Cherry?
Be her layin' on O. fat?"
only middIin mother"
"Then us must give a bag o. barley meal
to her ribs and that's cruel expensive"
So matters stood-Philip making no fur
ther advances-the pig putting on fat slow
ly, the baking business bringing In few
pence daily, and Cherry going even farther
afleld for fuel-wheu the great storm of
1924 occurred. The storm had been threat
ening all day. 1t burst into fury at night
fall. The wind blew directly i'll at the bar
Dor mouth, and heaped the water UP in the
contracted throat it flung in billow bill
low, and as darkness deepened the tide be-
gan to flow and to aggravate the gravity
of the situation. Betty and her daughter
had prepared to go to bed but hesitated
to retreat under the blanket with the pros
pect before them of wild night. and with
hearing the waves cast their spray against
the window. The hut was all on one floor.
the little bedroom, lean-to, against the
chamber that served parlor, shop, bake
house and all during the day.
"Oh, my, motherl I'm sure we're done
for.'' gasped Cherry, as a swash of water
swept over the window.
Stand your ground, Cherry, stand your
ground!7 answered the old woman; wasn't
it a whole packet o. troubles poured over
my head when your pore father died. and
were left WI you and only crooked six
pence in my pocket-and some 'taterS in
the gardlng? But put a good heart to it,
and stood my ground-I did,
~Hark there!'' cried the girl, a billow
Numbered upon the rock, shook the little
house to its foundations. The two women,
half undressed, sat in doubt and fear.
':Us can't put out the ean'l," said Betty,
''and Cherry, It's an expenses gashly one
burnin' one all night long,
The wind moaned about the little building,
that was not too substantially built.
"Don't-y think mother, us'd be safest If
US craled into the oven?" asked the girl.
Il reckon twould make roast meat o us.