The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1908-07-08

We have recently migrated from
London to the seaside. 1t is way
families have nowadays. Father still
runs up to town by the quick morning
train, but the rest of us enjoy our
selves day by day near and on the
sea. developing contours and gaining
compilations.
Our house is at the end of new
row which runs at right angles to the
cliff and sea. 1t is described as an
"artistic villa" by large board which
much offends our sense of the artistic.
The chief claim of the villa to the de-
scriptive adjective lies in the highly
ornamental nature of the paintings
just inside the little porch, whose
walls show forth chrysanthemums
and roses of more than the orthodox
flower-show size and coloring.
We also possess balconies both
front and back of the house, so that
we can sit in the sun or shade, to
windward or leeward, and still have
the beauty of the ever changing
waves before our eyes. Any exag-
gerated desire for rusticity may be sat
isfed by the sight Of an unplowed
field which stretches away in front Of
our road, and by the wild and barren
tract of land which lies in our rear.
Moreover, the roads-north, south,
east and west-of our new home are
not in any way to be distinguished
from fields which have been recently
plowed, except that they are bor-
dered by curb, in more or less
slanting position, which slices off a
strip of clayey sidewalk.
Even this has its charm; we feel
that we did not leave London to de-
scend to the commonplace of asphalt
pavements and roads on which one
can walk with ease. When few
days rain have done their best for us,
and we are practically cut off from
kirk and market, we imagine that
we know something of the joys of liv-
ing in tho Wild West of early ad
venturous dreams.
Yes, on the whole, we very much
enjoy our new home The air is brac-
ing, the sea glorious; for it is really
gea, although people may talk of the
muddy Thames. The slow, bare flats
at ebb-tide" have their charm, espe-
cially when the fishing boats are lying
prone and helpless in the rays of the
setting sun.
OF course, We expect improvements
in time The plowed and unplowed
fields will disappear; and, doubtless,
all the roads will become patterns of
what roads, should be. like the long
stretch of model walk down by the
promenade, where children skate on
roller skates all day long. Already
the pitch-darkness Of our surround
ings is about to be remedied by gas
lamps for which preparatory digging e
is taking place. To this fact We owe
our introduction to Rosy Tom"
That is our name for him. He Is
the watchman on duty during the
night near the end of our road, where
preliminary measures are being taken
for the laying down Of the pipes. Tom
goes to his shelter about four in the
afternoon, and remains on duty till
about seven the next morning. The
cold of the wintry nights arouses
ones sympathy for him, and we con-
vey jugs of soup TO him in the even.
ings, and occasionally cup of tea
in the afternoon.
IL was his jolly. hale and hearty
appearance as he sat in his box thai
gained for him the appellation oi
"Rosy Tom" We did not realize how
feeble he was till one afternoon wher
he called. There was knock at tht
door, and tremulous voice wa,
heard in explanatory remarks: "Yol
may remember, Miss, that brough
back jug yesterday, but ther
weren't no cup with it. The LADY,
this term applies always-to. my eldes
sister. who is the Lady Bountiful
of the family-"the lady, she brini
along cup O. tea. an / 'ad my mug
but she left it just as it were. l "a
q misfortune wi the cup 1t slippe
out o. me and, so l waited till coul
get one as like it as | could. 1t ain
quite the same. but / couldn't get n
nearer"
There's your old man, Nell"
whispered to my sister; "go and Sc
what he wants. He is talking lot
Mary at the door. It's somethin
about cup"
"Ye see. ma'am," he continued
apologetically. as Nell came int
sight. II be very sorry. but 1t slippe
to the ground. Me 'ands was colt
like. and SO that's 'ow it 'appened."