Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1914-09-21
ELLEN ADATR MEETS
ABOARD SHIP ONE OF
NATURES COURTIERS
Lonely Scotchman From the
Island of Islay Conhdes in
English Girl Tale of His
Home.

VII,
The rise and dreadful fall OF the At
lantic Ocean! why, think that COM
pared with 1t the rise and fall Of the
Roman Empire itself must have been the
merest trife One sits upon the deck and
sees the strange gymnastics of the sea,
For up, up, up the ocean surses till one
thinks the boat must swamp. Then
down down. down the racing waters fly,
while long and shuddering vibrations
shake the ship from stem to stern.
certain very human analogy might easily
be drawn lust here. but there are times
when, even for the embellishing of tale,
a parallel had best be left alone. Let
it suffice to say that mal-de-mer has
never troubled me. My cabinmates were
all laid low, a melancholy band. Be
tween the paroXysms | know they pray
ed that we might hit the bottom,
For after leaving Queenstown on the
second day, when evening came we met
the great Atlantic rollers. We pitched
and rolled, but oh! I loved the white
foam and the binding spray! The
steerage deck that was so gay was now
like deserted battlefield With lowered
flag and pale green look. the would-be
conquerors of the sea had fled below. l
sat alone and meditated on the van
quished heroes.
A lowering sky gloomed on that
threatening sea. The forward frst-class
deck was quite deserted. too; behind me
and above on the second-class, few
adventurous souls were cautiously pac-
ing the rolling deck. But in the steer
age l was all alone.
Above the loud vibrations of the screw
I heard a sudden melody, clear and dis |
tinct The voice was nearby: the voice |
was a mans. a deep rich baritone, and |
the air was strangely familiar Where |
had l heard that wild strange air be- |
fore? l listened intently
"Lochnber no more o. .Lochaber no more.
The LIQUID notes were full of a yearn- /
ing sadness. Where. oh, where. had
once heard that lovely melody?
A SOLDIERS FUNERAL.
The present scene now slowly faded.
and in its place l saw the great Trafalgar
Square of London as 1t looked one sum-
mer afternoon long years ago. A long,
sad procession OF soldiers slowly followed
a single gun-Carrage bearing something
draped over with one great flag, the
Union Jack-and on that flag there rested
solitary sword and helmet. The sun
shone on that long line OF Killed Scottish
soldiers and glanced on every cleaning
helmet. 1t was that great regiment of
the race, the Gordon Highlanders, the
bravest and the finest lighting men that
Britain ever owned. With their mag
nificent physique, each man giant and
q hero, they slowly swung along, as Il it
were the heather of their native hills and
glens they trod, and not the srimy as
phalt of the London streets.
Two pipers in the Gordon kilt and tar
tan headed that sad procession, and from
their pipes a real old Highland Lament /
rang through Trafalgar Square For a .
Highland officer and a gentleman was
being borne on that quiet gun-carriage to
his last long resting place
Farewell to T.ochaber Lochaber no more.
shall maybe return TO Lochaber more
The rideress charger who was slowly
led beside that quiet sun-carriaGe neighed
in an eerie, heart-broken fashion. | know
he understood his empty saddle, and
mourned his master with a mourning
Dear Gordon HEhlanders! \
soldiers funeral is the saddest sight.
The singer on the steerage deck now
came in view, tall, broadshouldered
youth His clothes were of the toughest
homespun, patched and darned. He had
the shabbiest, yet the Erandest air-for ne
was one of Natures gentlemen. \ cour-
tier might Well have cnved the gallant
way he bowed and doffed his threadbare
cap, as if | We're a princess, he a prince.
I knew at once he was a Highlander.
Madame" said he, and l knew that
words did not come easily to him in the
English, we are companior,ess. and ono
of us is ferry homesick-it will be honor
Ing me to talk with you. Tis better
used l am to speak the Gaelic"
II have enjoyed your song" I said
And do you come from the Lochaber
district"
He shook his head II am an Islav
man." said he, and going out beyond
the seas to make a fortune But Is!ay
will be calling all the time.'
The Island Of Islay," l said does IL
not lie out in the Hebrides of Scotland?"
He nodded slowly, and his face. Young.
wonderfully handsome, lit up with a new
glow and remembrance. Il was the
ace of dreamer, a seer and on it was
he clear prophetic gaze peculiar to the
'ea-girt Highanders Of Scotland They
i've so close to Nature that they have
second sight'-and Nature is their
only medium
It's lonely I was feeling in this place"
said he, "and so I sang my saddest song
all the time I Will be thinking that twas