The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-03-06


 is not a common type among our civil guardians. though you search the world through from viadfvostok to San Fran cisco. But we are ali total abstainers m thls yillage-the tavern Is in the next village.
 Our one man who has seen the world Is the mail cart driver. He Is retired soi- der. with memories of Afghan hiils | pleasant yarns of jungle sport, cornical | stories of Brother Boer. When you are half an hour late for the post you catch him at the cross roads, for his ffffeman's eye will see you mile away. And af- ter our clockmaker, with his hammer and chisel. who improves the fine old grand father clocks which tick in every cottage. We have no forther notabilities-except the ladies. When 1t is cautiously pointed out to Welshman, that Wales, unlike Ireland and Scotland. has not produced her equal share of great men--writers, statesmen or soldiers-who left their mark upon ths world, he retorts that the world cannot read Welsh. It may, be that the daugh ters of Gwalia have more than their share of the vifility of the race. Here Vt may see farms managed by women who direct their iaborers with miliatary au- thority. In the shops and in the markets the ladies do tEe business. A Welsh wo- man will drive a cart. or run mill, or intrigue in diplomacy and the man IS never missed. The Welsh girl Is general ly a dark-eyed. active little body. viru- lent in her dislikes and worshipper in her love. The Welsh mother Is of the self-sacrificing. old-fashioned type. which still exists in some corners of the earth, despite the spread of higher education. In the character of Welsh women there is much that reminds one of the promi- nent part which women have played in the life of France.
 In this land there were only two days Sundays and other days. It is generally Sunday Whatever the day, 1t Is day behind the world. If you practice philos- ophy-which Is easy when you are not anxious about tape prices--it Soon be- comes quite natural to have yesterdays morning paper for breakfast. By a cer- tain effort--or maybe iapse-of imaglna- ton lives as up to date as the city man. And, after all. when one lives amid na- ture and he sees that the waves and hills reck little of Monday or Tuesday. Time, as mathematicians understand it, is said to be the record of relative movement, and in this country we can live without 1t.
 A watch is an instrument wherewith to catch trains but when there are no trains 1t Is a geegaw of vulgar pride, stamp ing the wearer as an obnoxious person who would claim superiority over the common people. City men are the slaves of the clock; they are masters who are servants of the deceitful machines which they have called in to tighten labor. The citizen when he wants a thing telephones for 1t, and the boy brings 1t. But 1t Is vain to pretend that the electric wires have increased the serenity of life. One might as soon congratulate a man having no nerves. Here we press no buttons and no boys appear. When we want a thing We go without 1t. And 1t is sur- prising how many of the necessaries of life are luxuries-when you must fetch them yourself. By the time you have decided to go twelve miles into town you have invented a makeshift or the whim has faded.
 Not that we in Anglesey are altogether remote from the world and It's works Great is the traffic of our street that throbs with It's never-ending procession of ships. The boom of the fog gun wakes the hooting sireens of dozen steamers. Cavern rocks to cavern as the sea shocks against the walls of rock. The wind is always in a hurry on some urgent business thousand miles away, and rages with impatience. Our street lamp, the light house on the Skerries, burns steadily with an occasional saucy wink at the ships that pass in the night. The big Atlantic liner, with It's long row of lights, looks like a railway train, and as we watch the gliding palace we fancy we can see the flowers and hear the music and we wonder what they are having for dinner in the salon.