Arizona republican., 1910-10-22
THE LIZARD: A CORNISH SKETCH

Gold of furze and purple of heather
black rocks and yellow sand, with
above, the cloudless sky, and far below
| the sea- tossed feather white"-thus
Lizard Point haunted, not SO many
years ago by the pixy tribe, says the
London Globe. No longer, alas, do the
little men in green frolic upon the cliff,
no longer is the sound of their music
heard-harps tambourines and tiny
Pan-pipes, played on very softly; in
stead, there sounds the long drawn
whistles of the steamboat, calling her
passengers to Church Cove, and the
too frequent boot of the motor horn.
Yet, although the pixy folk are driven
| from Lizard Point-to find last
stronghold. it may be, in the less we'll
known roseland district of Cornwall
the Lizard and Goonhilly Downs have
still a nameless charm; over these high
cliffs, yellow with life-g giving air of
the. moors, and though the sun beats
down unhindered, its heat is never in
tolerable. Far away from the world
seems this Cornish promontory-'a
land of old up-heaven from the abyss"
five minutes walk, and the white
washed cottages of Lizard church town
are left behind, while the open moor,
with its strange path hedges" lies all
around
Beautiful at midday, when the sun
blazes down and the heather is astir
with insect life, the Lizard is yet more
beautiful when sunset draws near.
Then the blue of the water, the purple
and mauve tints of heather and gold
or distant furze, are deepened, intensi-
fled, each far-off hill, each rounded
headland, stand out as though carved
in stone again the sunset sky. That
sky itself needs Turner's brush. Pale
yellow at first, it changes to lightest
green-ethereal, transparent-then to
pink; slowly, at last, against this back
ground, bands of crimson lengthen
they grow broad and broader. yet until
the whole sky seems aflame; crimson
lights are on the water, too; a path !
of glory and of storm from the cliff to |
the far horizon There is a time at |
sunset when all men are handsome, all |
women beautiful; there is a time at |
sunset, too when the most common /
place scene-a row of jerry-built |
houses, the fray and grimy length of |
a London streets transformed, be
comes, for an instant, fairylike.
This moment, upon Lizard point, is |
one of wondrous beauty. Purple heath
er, yellow fIirze, blue sea-all receive a
glory from the sunset sky, and are L
touched to incredible splendor, while
overhead the slashes of crimson in the
west hold still. All too soon the glory
fades; overhead crimson changes to
purple; that again to gray. Evening
steals up, and in the dimmed light,
bushes and bracken seem to loom gil
gantic, monstrous and indefinable
shapes. The Lizard shrouds herself,
will have no more comrade-
ship with man. Verify, she is clothed
in mist and evening shadow, while far
away the fern owl calls.
Now, in the mysterious, fast-failing
light, it is not difficult to people Liz
ard point with those lost fairy inhabit-
ants; to watch the Spriggan-evil Off
shoot of the Troll family-dart from
)ut of the furze brake, assuming all at
once the height and proportions of
nan. Here.also, the pixies play; too
good for hell, they are not good enough
for heaven; so, rendered mis0hievous
and elvish by hopes long deferred,
they chase the cows and ride the colts,
true plague of every farmer. Hark, tool
surely, faint and far away, there comes
he sound of music-horns of Elfland
played on very softly-perhaps there
fore, in these dim evening hours, the
pixies come to their own once more"