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 Con6des in
English Girl Tale of His
Home.

VII.
The rise and dreadful fall OF the At
lantic Ocean Why, 1 think that COM
pared with 1t the rise and fall OF the
Roman Empire Itself must have been the
merest trlhe One sits upon the deck and
sees the strange gymnastics Of the sea.
For UP, up. UP the ocean surges till one
thinks the boat must swamp. Then
down. down, down the racing waters ny,
while long and shuddering vibrations
shake the ship from stem to stern a
certain very human analogy might easily
be drawn Just here. but there are times
when, even for the embellishing of tale,
a parallel had best be left alone. Let
II suffice to say that mal-de-mer has
never troubled me. My cabinmates were
all laid low, a melancholy band. Be-
tween the paroNysms | know theE 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, l loved the white
foam and the binding spray! The
steerage deck that was so gay was now
like a deserted battlefield With lowered
flag and pale green look. the would-be
conouerors of the sea had fled below
sat alone and meditated on the van
qushed heroes
lowering sky Cloomed on that
threatening sea. The forward hrst-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
1 heard n sudden melody, clear ana dis
tinct The voice was nearby the voice
was a mans, a deep rich baritone. ana
ra1, 90
had l heard that wild strange air be-
fore? 1 listened intcnuy'
~ o.hqber no more; Q, Lochaher no more;
1 shall maybe return 70 Loc31a33er no more:
The liquid notes we're ful! OF 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 I 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-carriage bearing something
draped over with one great flag, the
Union Jack--and on that flag there rested
n solitary sword and helmet. Tho 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 fighting men that
Britain ever owned. With their mag
niticent physique, each man giant and
hero, they slowly swung along, as II it
were the heather of their native hills and
glens they trod, and not the grmy as
phalt of the London streets.
Two piTers in the Gordon kilt and tar
tan headed that sad procession, and from
their p!pes a real old Highland Lament
rang through Trafalgar Square. For a
Highland officer and a gentleman was
being borne on that quiet gun-carriage 10
his last long resting place.
Farewell 10 Lochabcr Lochaber no more
I shall maybe return to Lochaber no more"
The riderleSs charger who was slowly
led beside that quiet gun-carriage neighed
In an eere heart-hroken fashion. I know
he understood his empty saddle, and
mourned his master with a mourning
regiment. Dear Gordon Highlanders A
soldiers funeral is tho saddcst sight.
The singer on the stecrage deck now
came in view, a tall, broad-shouldered
youth His clothes were of the toughest
homespun. patched and darned. He had
the shabbiest, yet the grandest air-for he
was one of Natures gentlemen. a cour-
tier might well have envied the gallant
way he bowed and doffed his threadhare
cap, as If I We're a princess, he a prince.
knew at once he was Highlander.
Madame" said he, and l knew that
words did not come easily to him in the
English, I'VE are companior'ess. and one
OF US is ferry homesick-it will he honor
ing me to talk with YOU, Tis better
used l am 10 speak the Gaelic"
Il have enjoyed your song" I said.
And do you come from the Lochaber
district"
lie shook his head. IT am an Islay
man" said he, "and going out beyond
the seas TO make fortune. But Islay
will be calling all the time"
THE Island of Islay,' I said. docs It
not lie out in the Hebrdes OF Scotland?"
He nodded slowly, and his face, young,
wonderfully handsome, lii up with new
glow and a remembrance. II was the
face Of dreamer, seer, and on it was
the clear prophetic gaze peculiar to the
sea-Eirt Hishlauders OF Scotland. They
live so close 10 Nature that they have
a second sight'-and Nature is their
only medium
" ,Tis lonely was feeling in this place, ."
said he, land so I sang my saddest song
all the time will be thinking that twas