The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1906-09-20
CHAPTER XIII.


fathers health began to fail. In the
May of the following year l returned
from my school near Paris. and instead
of entering at Girton, as my father had
previously arranged. became his secre-
tary. / was then just eighteen. l did
the very best l could, and in his dear.
kind way, he made me forget my mis-
cries at the endless blunders | commit
ted. You see, there were only we two:
for my mother died shortly after / was
born, and / was their only child. We
saw few people at our little house. which
was on the Trumpington road, just out
side Cambridge. Ladies / met would
often pity rae for the dull and lonely zee
| led. and that used TO make me veay
angry. We We're never dull or lonely.
my dear father and /.
1t may seem absurd that so a sim
guished a man as DIR. Weston, NJ A.
ID. Sc. +. K. S.. the Regius Prof ssor
of Physic at Cambridge, should hav.. re-
lied on the help of half-educated school
girl. But he was always pleased to say
that my love and sympathy were worth
far more to him in his work than if he
had been served by the cleverest woman
that ever headed an honor list.
| we'll remember the appearance of
Prof. Marnac's book, Science and Re-
ligion," which was published simultane-
ously in German and English at the be-
ginning of the June of that year. Ny
father was violently opposed TO it, but |
was far more concerned over the state
into which it threw him than I was about
the book, which, as a matter of fact. |
ever read. He dictated to me a most
evere criticism, which at his instructions
sent to the editor of the University
Review at 1924, Henrietta street. Co
vent Garden, London. The article was
signed .Cantab," a pseudonym that my
father often used. as he had the greatest
objection to publicity.
About ten days after the August Uni
yersity appeared-that being the number
which contained his article-my father
received an anonymous letter. 1t was
my duty to open and sort his correspon-
eence, and / was thus able to intercept
it. 1t was addressed to "Cantab," and
had been forwarded, unopened, by the
editor Of the review. The envelope bore
German stamp, but the post-mark had
been smeared and was quite undistin--
guishable The letter was neatly written
IN English. 1t consisted almost entirely
of the most violent personal threats
against ny father. The writer declared
that he would soon find out "Cantab's"
real narle, and would suitably repay him
for his ISLANDERS against the greatest
scientific work Of the century. l was
very frightened about it, but several
friends to whom l showed the letter
laughed away my fears. ss..ing it was
undoubtedly the work of some mailman.
AM advising me to burn it. This I did.
| never mentioned the affair to my faith
err, whose health was giving me great
anxiety at the time.
During September my father had TAX
en- cottage on the Cornish coast, and
when the end of the Long Vacation
came, the doctors forbade his return to
Cambridge. / had hard work to per-
suade him that it was best to obey their
orders; but at last he gave in, and we
settled down for the winter.
The cottage was built at the foot of a
low hill strewn with boulders and torn
by the autumn rains. Upon its summit
the chimney of an abandoned tin mine
rose against the sky like vast flag
pole, with roofess buildings grouped
-ound it in melancholy decay. 1t was
avs q depressing spot to me, and |
rely visited it, though the view was
splendid. About half a mile before the
cottage the moorland ended abruptly in
line of glorious cliffs, two hundred and
fifty feet of granite and shining porph-
yry from brow to breaker. This was my
favoeito walk. / loved to crawl to the
edge. that / might peer over at the reefs
that spgang out from the tumbled rocks
at the eff foot like the bones of a giant s
hand. have lain thus for hours watch
ing the great rollers advancing in that
stately, inexorable march of theirs, rank
following rank, until they burst in thun-
derous green fountains of foam. Some
lines, when fierce wind blew from the
'suthwest, the spray they hurled into the
air would wet my face, even where I lay
so infinitely far above them.
Between the cottage and the cliff the
ground dipped into little glen, or goyal,
as the country folks called it, choked
with storm-twisted trees and deep with
gorse and ferns. Through it ran our
cart track, winding down to the fishing
village of Foileyen, where the tiny, stone
rooted houses chung to a gap in the cliff
wall like barnacles on a rock.
Besides my father and myself, Mar
jory, our cook-housekeeper, who had
been with u ever since / could reTem-
Der. was the salv other inhabitant of the
cottage. On Tuesdays and Thursdays p
red-cResked maidepA Who had quite re-