The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1900-11-23

Chicago Times-Herald.
There is a valley amidst the Yorkshire
hills known as Coverdale, from whose
slopes, long years ago, came pious Miles,
who translated the Bible, and who was
called by the simple folks Miles Of Gov
erdale, after the place of his birth.
Very calm and peaceful the little dale
lies under the shadow Of the great hills,
whose SUBMITS are purple in the sweet
summertide, with their royal mantle Of
fragrant heather, and where tae cur
few and the golden plover's cry alone
breaks the gentle stiffness that rests
/ over the little world beyond tZe haunts
of restless activity and hurrying life.
There is no railway in quiet Cover
dale, no town to which the country folk
may wend their way, no shops save the
wonderful village emporium, where
everything in a very small way may be
obtained, but where few fashions come
to startIe the gayer minded of the maid
ems, or strange new devices In neckties
to dazzle the vision of the country lads.
To peep into the world necessitates
journey under the shelter of the lone
hillsides, along bonny lanes, entwined
with pink and creamy tinted honey
suckles, and green with waving ferns;
past the quaint inn whose sign is a
famous but long ago race horse, called
In the canny Yorkshire tongue Tn Lady
Bah, and, finally, across the moor into
horse-loving Midlothian, where are peo-
pie and shops and many inns with GU
riously painted sign posts-the Black
Swan, and it's brother the White Swan,
and many others, too.
But down in Coverdale there is a beau
tiful old church, set like a jewel in it's
surrounding of stately trees and bios
soming hedges, with the quiet green
ness of Gods acre lying stretched about
it, and the singing of natures chorfs-
tiers in the sweet air around-a place of
peacefulness and repose, where earth's
burdens may fall from one for a little
space, and heavens benson light softly
on such of its children as stay to pray
and think awhile.
There is quaint lych-gate at the en-
trance to the holy spot, a carved, halt
ing place Of oak, set tenderly by some
good man of the dalespeople-a squire
of the olden days, who loved his home
and his neighbors and his God full we'll
I think, and sought to beautffy the
church in which he and his had wor-
SHIPPED so long.
And down the fair avenue of trees
| within the precincts and past the quiet
| church lie the remains of what was once
| the proud Abbey of Coverdale, where
the monks said masses and cultivated
| their garden and tended the souls and
| dale.
It is a beautiful spot in beautiful
| countryside, and so thought a man who
| viewed it lovingly, and pointed out all
! it's changeful lights and -shadows, all it's
pretty peeps of field and river, to his
| wife
They mad only been married q little
| while, a few short weeks, and had elect
ed to spend their honeymoon in some of
| the quaint corners of Fngland-henca
| their journeYing thither to this seques,
tered nook among the hills and the far
stretched moorlands in their yelling of
| regal purple The man loved it already,
with the artist love which sees the
| beautiful SO quickly and feels it so
/ strongly; and the Woman-Well, she saw
| the beauties, too, but she was growing
a little weary of pretty sights, and she
was very pretty and snoilt herself, and
perhaps a little Jealous of admiration
| wasted. which might have been diverted
hemeward.
So she stood by the quaint relics of the
abbots and mailed knights at CoYeFha m,
where two quaint forms guard a door
way, as perehance their originals guard
ed some stronghold in the old lighting
days long gone, and her white gown fell
over the gray stones and CLEANED
against the red and orange nasturtiums
in the garden which surrounds the old
Walls anu arches, anu she wondered II
her husband had nearly finished his
sketch, and whether they should stay at
Aiddleham for a day or two, or go on
further to Wensleydale9
81 am rathc- ired of adniring places"
she said to herself. a little impatiently.
"And, then, never can remember who.
lived in the castles and abbeys. How
uncomfortable they must have been!'
And then-for she was only very
young bride, too-she felt sorry for hav-
ing been impatient even in her thoughts,
toward her husband and she turned to
speak to him with an even sweeter smile
than usual on her pretty lips. For her
husband was genius in his way,
thinker and an author, and everyone had
envied her when she married him, in
spite of her wealth.
All! there was a pitiful ring III the
story-poor and nameless, but clever.
beating himself to pieces in his eager
attempts to win fame single-handed; and
rich and beautiful the woman with the
fairy-like figure and exquisite face, who
had given the man her gold.
And, all more pitiful note stilI-and