JOYCE'S LITTLE MAID
THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY
56 PATERNOSTER ROW, AND 65 ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD
BUTLER & TANNER,
THE SELWOOD PRINTING WORKS,
FROM, AND LONDON.
I A LETTER 7
II A LITTLE TRAVELLER 22
III JENNIFER'S RECEPTION 41
IV A TALK WITH PHILADELPHIA. 49
V THE MAN OF THE CARNS 59
VI JENNIFER INTRODUCES HER GRANDFATHER 73
VII EDITH THANKS GOD 85
VIII TEMPTED 102
IX THE WILD MAN DESCENDS THE CLIFF. .112
'Children are God's apostles, day by day sent forth to preach of
love and hope and peace.'
JOYCE'S LITTLE MAID
EARS and years ago Mr. Penwarden, of Pen-
warden, was sitting at his escritoire writing.
He was young, as old men go in the Cornish
land, where our story is laid, but you would
have thought from his aged appearance that he was
at least seventy-six, while he was ten years younger.
His face, parchment-like in its colouring, was much
wrinkled, and his long, wavy hair and beard were as
white as a St. Joseph's lily. He was very thin-
'thin as a walking-stick,' his housekeeper, Miss
Philadelphia Tresidder, said, and but for his lean-
ness would be the handsomest man in West Penwith.
Perhaps he was more distinguished-looking than
handsome; for strangers when they happened to
meet him turned to gaze at his tall, bent form
and fine old face 'in all its majesty of wrinkles,'
softened by his abundant hair and blue eyes, and
wondered who he was. His eyes were sad indeed,
and his whole countenance partook of their sadness.
It was evident to every one who gave him a second
glance that his soul had been deeply wounded at
some period of his life, and that the wound was still
Mr. Penwarden was a gentleman both by birth
and education, and well-to-do. He had two large
estates-one in the picturesque parish of St. Levan,
where Penwarden was situated, and the other in the
adjoining parish of St. Burian, both of which he
farmed himself. He was a widower, his wife having
died in giving birth to his first-born child, a daughter.
The child was named Joyce after her paternal grand-
mother, and she grew up a beautiful girl, and spoilt
and wilful as she was'beautiful. She was yet in her
early womanhood when she married one who was
not only beneath her in social standing, but unworthy
of her in every respect.
This unsuitable marriage nearly broke her father's
heart, and from the day his little Joyce-as he fondly
called his motherless child-left his house, which,
sad to tell, she did without his knowledge, and was
wedded in a neighboring village, he was never seen
to smile again. From being merry and cheerful and
having a kindly word for everybody he became un-
sociable-almost morose-seeing nobody and going
no whither, not even to St. Levan Church, where he
had gone every Sunday for years, his daughter
always accompanying him. He suffered terribly-
how terribly God alone knew. But he loved Joyce
still, although he never mentioned her name, nor
allowed her name to be mentioned even by his
housekeeper, Philadelphia Tresidder, whose love for
his erring child was only a little less than his own.
Years dragged out their weary length, and Joyce
A Letter 9
Penwarden, or Lefroy, as she became by her mar-
riage, was nearly forgotten except by those two
loving, faithful ones, who thought of her constantly
and longed for her return. But Joyce came not.
Mr. Penwarden did not know where she was, or even
if she were alive, and both he and Philadelphia had
almost given up hope of ever seeing her again.
Joyce had written to her father some months after
her marriage; but in a sudden frenzy he put the
letter, which bore a foreign postmark, into the fire
unopened. She never wrote again, much to his
sorrow, until just before our story opens.
Nobody ever guessed that the girl who had so
cruelly left her home was still beloved by her father.
Outwardly he was like an iceberg which nothing
could thaw, but inwardly his heart was tender as a
child's. He only wanted his daughter's love to make
it burst into bloom, as the flowers do when the soft
warm winds have blown away all the winter cold and
He was thinking of Joyce to-day, as his quill
slowly travelled over the pages of his day-book, and
a heavy sigh broke from him, which brought a mag-
nificent sheepdog to his master's side, who thrust his
cold nose into the hand that held the pen; but his
mute sympathy brought no response, and after
watching him wistfully a few minutes the dog lay
down again under the table.
The room where Mr. Penwarden sat was half
parlour and half study; it was large, wainscotted, and
crammed with old furniture, mostly Chippendale.
A beautiful glass-fronted latticed cupboard, black
with age, and carved, stood opposite the large
1o A Letter
granite-framed window, and was filled with rare old
china. On the top of it were three immense bowls,
which his ancestors had brought from the Indies.
There were books lying about on the chairs, tables,
and window-seat, and most uninteresting, judging
from their heavy calf-bindings and great age, save
from an antiquary's point of view.
The window-seat, which ran the full length of the
great window, was not only filled with books, but
with little dogs of a valuable breed. Blenheims they
were, four of which were curled up on the huge tomes,
sleeping in the sunshine that fell full upon them.
The window looked out on a large garden and
a granite-crowned hill beyond, which, the time being
May, was aflame with gorse. In the garden there
were Cornish elms, and the valley, to where the
garden sloped, was full of them, and birds and sweet
Mr. Penwarden finished his writing, shut his escri-
toire, and came to the window, round which soft,
creamy Banksia roses clustered, and looked out.
Lifting his sad eyes, he caught sight of the roses, and
again he sighed, which once more brought the collie
to his side.
'She loved the Banksia,' he said to himself, 'and
they were in full bloom when she left me. It was
another such a day as this, and the crofts were
yellow with furze, and all the land seemed to rejoice
in her beauty. Ah me !' and the sobbing sigh that
fell on the dog's ears made him break into a dis-
'You can feel for me, can't you, Bran, old fellow?'
said the old man, laying his wrinkled hand, on which
the blue veins stood out like whip-cords, on the dog's
head. 'You are worth a hundred of those little
brutes,' glancing at the spaniels, 'who are good for
nothing except to look pretty, like a young maid.'
The dog wagged his great brush at his master's
rare word of praise, and barking joyously, awoke the
King Charles and set them barking, so drowning a
quick, impatient knock at the parlour door. Never-
theless, Bran's sharp ears heard the tap, and he
glanced apprehensively at the closed door, and was
retiring to the far end of the room, with a dejected
look on his face and his tail between his legs, when
the door opened, and a woman in a white starched
cap stood on the threshold.
She was Miss Philadelphia Tresidder, a very im-
portant person at Penwarden. It was not surprising,
as she had been a servant in the Penwarden family
from her early girlhood, and was-to use her own
expression-' as one born in the house,' and had, she
said, almost as much right there as her master, for
her parents had grown old in the service of the Pen-
wardens before her.
She was a plump little body, as broad as she was
long, with a fat face, out of which shone expressive
dark eyes. She was a good-natured little woman, of
great force of character, judging from her large mouth
and firm, square chin.
She was older by a year than her master, though
nobody would have credited it; for she did not look
a day more than fifty, her hair under the Jenny-quick
cap being black as jet and her skin clear and smooth
as any girl's.
'Gracious heart, master! 'tis Bedlam let loose
here,' she ejaculated, her keen eyes resting on the
yelping spaniels; 'and as to the smell-ugh! 'tis
enough to give anybody the plague. Do 'ee open
the window and let in the fresh air. What! Bran
here too ?' spying that poor conscious animal hud-
dled up in a corner by the china cupboard. 'Aren't 'ee
'shamed of yourself bringing the smell of the town-
place into the parlour ?' shaking her head at the
dog, as Mr. Penwarden hastened to open a casement.
'Ah! that's something like, sir,' turning to her
master as a rush of warm air laden with the breath
of flowers and the music of birds came through the
opened window. 'Excuse me, master, for saying
so, but I should say wouldd be better for 'ee and the
King Charlies-to say nothing of Bran there-if you
was out in the fresh air, instead of being cooped up
here like a hen a-sitting. But there! who be I, to
speak so to my betters? I came to bring 'ee this,'
handing him a letter, 'and not to preach 'ee a
sermon. Thuse brought it from Penzance. You
told him to go forth to the post-office.'
'It bears the Plymouth post-mark,' said Mr. Pen-
warden, turning the letter over. 'I have no business
with any one in that town.'
'They can write, whoever 'tis from,' said Phila-
delphia. 'But I mustn't stay here tonguing; I've got
the butter to make and no end of little chores (things)
As she was leaving the room a half-suppressed cry
from her master made her glance round, and to her
consternation she saw his face was blanched.
A Letter 13
'What is it, sir ? Has the letter brought 'ee bad
news, eh ? Who is the letter from, making so bould ?'
as he did not speak, and stood gazing at the open
letter in his hand.
'It is from Joyce,' he said hoarsely at last, the
name escaping unwittingly from his trembling lips.
'From Miss Joyce?' said the old servant, her
voice shaking with eagerness. 'You don't mean to
say she has written at last! Is she coming home,
'I hardly know; leave me, like a good soul. I must
read my letter with no eyes upon me save God's.'
But you will let the dear cheeld (child) come home
if she wants to, master ?' pleaded the old woman,
tears rolling down her plump cheeks.
'Yes, yes, if she wants to come,' he answered.
'But leave me now;' and Philadelphia, having no
choice, left the room, returning, however, a little later
to find the door locked.
'Tis no good news in that there letter,' she mur-
mured to herself as she turned sorrowfully away; 'or
else the master is a-sitting there hardening his heart
against our poor foolish lamb. But she is alive, that's
one comfort, because he said the letter was from
Joyce;' and thus comforting herself the old woman
retired to her kitchen.
Hour after hour passed, and the parlour door was
still locked, much to Philadelphia's perplexity, and
she began to smell trouble in the air.
If she could have peeped into the locked room, she
would have seen her master with a face white and
stricken bowed low over the letter, most of the contents
of which were too sacred save for his own eyes, and
the dog Bran sitting by him as close as he could get.
The expression on the animal's face alone would have
told her that he had received some great trouble.
If ever a dog's face revealed unspeakable sorrow and
sympathy at the distress of a human soul, Bran's did.
The old woman knocked softly at the door more
than once, but was told each time, in the gentlest of
voices, unlike her master's stern tones, that he did
not want anything, only to be left alone, that she
crept away more perplexed than ever.
The day was beginning to close in when the door
of the writing-room opened and Mr. Penwarden came
out, followed by his faithful collie. The servants had
gone early to bed, and Miss Tresidder alone sat up,
partly to give her master his supper, in case he should
want any, but chiefly in the hope of hearing some-
thing about Joyce.
She was a good old soul according to her lights,
and she had been fervently praying that her master's
heart might be softened towards his child. Even she
did not guess how deeply loved and longed for that
child had been all those weary years.
The light was still sufficiently strong to show that
Mr. Penwarden had passed through some great
mental suffering, and the old woman was shocked to
see how drawn his face was, and that he walked as if
he had just risen from a sick-bed. And yet his face,
stricken as it was, had a look of peace she had never
seen on it before.
'Maister, what is it ? what have you done to your-
self?' she cried, starting to her feet. 'You've gone
to look years older since this morning. Surely, sir,
Miss Joyce isn't-- Isn't she coming home, after
all?' she asked piteously.
A Letter 17
'She died at Malta, where her husband was
stationed,' said the old man quietly. She wrote
her letter to me just before her death. Do not cry,
that is a good soul,' as Philadelphia burst into tears.
' We have cause to thank God that He has taken her
to Himself. From the time she left Penwarden she
saw nothing but trouble, and now she is where
Sweet Peace sits crowned with smiles."
So be thankful, and don't cry. God is better to us
than we deserve, and is sending us comfort in the
shape of a child. The child is in England, and we
may expect to see her to-morrow. She is Joyce's
own little maid. So cheer up, Philadelphia!'
But Philadelphia had not even heard what her
master had said, beyond that her Miss Joyce was
dead; and as she rocked herself to and fro in her
grief, she wailed, 'And I was going to welcome the
dear home one day, and now she is gone, and we
shall see her face again no more !'
We shall, if we put our trust in the All Merciful,'
said her master solemnly; and he left the kitchen.
The following morning Mr. Penwarden came into
the kitchen again. He was dressed in an antiquated
suit of mourning, and carried a plum-coloured coat
on his arm. To an observing eye he seemed much
as usfial, save that his face wore a happier expression.
He looked better than he did the previous evening.
His housekeeper had just come downstairs, having
slept very little, poor soul, and her eyes were as red
as a ferret's with much weeping.
The old man was an early riser, and although he
was not down earlier than usual, she was surprised to
see that he was not in his everyday clothes.
'Why, sir, one would imagine to see you 'twas
Sunday, and you going to church again, like a good
Christian gentleman. And 'tisn't Sunday neither,
nor market-day. Where are you going, sir ?'
'To meet the little maid-the child I told you who
was coming to-day.'
The little maid you told me was coming to-day !'
echoed the old servant. Sakes alive, sir the trouble
hasn't turned your brain ?' and she scanned his face
'I remember telling you last night that Joyce had
left a child, and was sending her to me.'
'Bless my heart, sir! to think I was such an old
bufflehead not to take in that beautiful news!' cried
Philadelphia. 'Sure, God never sends sorrow unless
He packs the comfort along with it. 'Tis past be-
lieving, though, that we shall have a little cheeld about
Penwarden again, and Miss Joyce's own little maid
too. It will be like having back Miss Joyce her own
dear self. You said the letter was from Miss Joyce.
Didn't she send a message to me, sir ?' she asked
'She did, Phillie,' returned the old man, 'and I
have come to read the part about the child and her
message to you before I start;' and he took the letter
out of his coat pocket. It was touching to see with
what reverence he touched the letter.
'"I am sending you my child to be your little
maid,"' he began in an unsteady voice, "who will in
some small measure make up to you for the sorrow I
was, alas! the unhappy means of causing you. She
is my only living child, the sweetest and fairest of
them all. I have taught her about God, and I believe
that she will be a blessing. She is a child of con-
stant prayer, and my prayer still is that He in His
graciousness will use her to His glory. She bears the
honoured name of Jennifer,-my mother's name,-and
you will love the child for her sake. Give my love to
dear old Phillie, and ask her to mother my little maid
as she once mothered me. Tell her I have forgotten
none of her kindness, and that I do not fear to trust
my child to her. Do not spoil my little Jennifer"' (as
I did her mother, my Joyce, he put in, with a groan),
'"and never let her forget the good God, whose little
child she is. I could not run the risk of sending her
to you without knowing for certain that you were
alive, and I therefore wrote to a clergyman in an
adjacent parish to ascertain. The answer was,
happily for me, satisfactory, and now I leave her
with you as long as her father will let her stay, which
I trust will be as long as you live. He will start from
here (Malta), for India as soon as God has taken me.
He would fain take the child with him, but my prayer
that she may be sent to you has prevailed. A woman
named Day will bring Jennifer to England, and with
her this letter, which will tell you that I am at rest.
If possible, Mrs. Day will bring the child to Penzance.
I trust my little Jennifer will soon be in your keeping
and Phillie's.-JOYCE LEFROY."'
There was a silence of a full five minutes-a silence
that Philadelphia could not bear to break. She cried
out at last,-
'Is that all, master ?-all for my ears, I mean ?'
'There is a line from Mrs. Day to say she has
brought the child to Plymouth, and that she will
20 A Letter
bring her to Penzance to-morrow-that is to-day,
and asking me to meet the down train.'
'Then you won't have any time to lose, sir!' cried
the old woman, thankful to arrest her master's atten-
tion-he was looking so sad. 'You must have a
good meal before you start. A morsel of nothing
has entered your lips since yesterday morning. You
must have something,' as he was beginning to pro-
test, 'or you will faint on the road.'
'Quick, Mary Jane, and lay the table,' turning to a
red-haired, squint-eyed servant who had come into
the room as Philadelphia was speaking, 'for your
master is in a terrible hurry.'
'I only want a cup of tea, Phil, and will have it
here in the kitchen,' said Mr. Penwarden.
'As you like, sir. The kettle '11 boil in a crack.
He is singing already, as if he knew there was a little
maid coming to make music in the old home again.
'Tis a good omen,' she cried, bustling round. 'How
old is the cheeld ?'
'Joyce did not say; in her teens, I suppose,' re-
turned Mr. Penwarden somewhat absently. 'I ought
not to stay even for a cup of tea,' looking impatiently
at the kettle, which was making all the haste it could
to boil. 'Thuse is harnessing Dandy.'
'Dandy!' cried Philadelphia, with a sniff; 'you
don't mean to say you are going to let that old slow-
coach of a mule take 'ee to Penzance ?'
Then, as her master gave an affirmative nod, 'You
won't get home before sundown.'
When the old gentleman had swallowed a cup of
hot tea, he said, 'Will you kindly get the white room
ready for the young maid-her mother's room ? and
A Le/Ie~ 21
will you also have a nice supper for her by the time
we return ?'
'Don't you worrit yourself about nothing, sir,' that
spinster hastened to answer; the thought of the
coming of the child making her forget for the time
the sorrow that had overwhelmed her. 'She shall
have the heartiest welcome and the handsomest
supper ever a young miss sat down to. So you go
along to Penzance, and bring home the little maid as
fast as Dandy will let 'ee.'
She, Bran, and the Blenheims accompanied their
master out of Penwarden House, an ancient stone
building standing on the slope of a boulder-strewn
hill; a deep valley, as we have remarked, lying be-
tween it and another hill. It was a splendid old
house from an artist's point of view, with grey
walls half smothered in creepers, large stone-framed
windows, and church-like doors. At the bottom of
the garden under an arched gateway stood a sleek
mule-his brown coat glossy as satin-harnessed to a
low vehicle, which was not unlike a big armchair set
Mr. Penwarden stepped into this quaint carriage,
and Miss Tresidder and the dogs stood at the gate
watching Dandy climbing the steep road leading up
out of the valley, or Penwarden Bottom, as it was
called, on the way to the downs, the Blenheims bark-
ing furiously the while; and when the carriage had
disappeared they all returned to the house.
A LITTLE TRAVELLER
BOUT three hours after Mr. Penwarden left Pen-
warden House, an elderly woman, leading a
child, hurried across the platform at Plymouth
station. The down train would leave in five
minutes, she was told. Getting a ticket, she put the
child into a carriage.
'My darling!' looking with anxious eyes at the
little thing, 'I am distressed at not being able to go
with you to Penzance, as I promised your mother.
I've received a telegram that my sister is very ill, and
that I must leave for my home at once. I think you
will be all right. I will give you into the charge of
the guard. Your grandfather will be sure to meet
you at Penzance. You have my London address in
your little pocket, if you are not met. But there's
sure to be some one to meet you. Be sure you do
not let anybody take off the card I tied round your
neck, and don't get out of the carriage until some-
body comes for you. You promise, darling?' and
the woman gazed at the child anxiously.
'Me promise,' returned the little thing; 'and here
is me hand on it, Mrs. Day,' stretching out a tiny
gloved hand towards her.
'You dear little soul! you have always done what
I have told you. Here are some buns. Now good-
A Little Traveller 23
bye. I shall come and see you and Miss Martha as
soon as ever I can ;' and kissing the child again and
again, she stepped out of the carriage as a guard
came to the door.
'Look after that dear child in there, will you,
please?' hurriedly slipping a piece of silver into his
hand. 'She is labelled, and has her ticket;' and ere
the man could utter a word she was gone.
'Well, I am blessed!' he ejaculated, as the woman
disappeared in the crowd. Then thrusting his head
into the carriage, he surveyed the child with a per-
turbed face. She was quite lovely, and the man
thought he had hardly ever seen so beautiful a child
before. She was plainly dressed in a grey frock, coat
and hood; but the little face under the hood was as
richly tinted as a peach. Her eyes were large, of a
velvety brown, and very serious-looking, giving a
spiritual expression to the little face. Her mouth
was exquisitely shaped, and so was the softly rounded,
dimpled chin. This perfect whole was in a setting of
deep golden hair, which so haloed the broad white
brow that the guard instinctively thought of angels.
She was sitting quite still on the cushioned seat, with
one small socked leg crossed on the other to hold a
bundle on her lap.
'Any room here?' asked a voice; and turning
round, the guard saw a tall, white-faced young man
at his elbow.
'Yes, sir, plenty. There is only a mite of a child
'Come, Edith,' said the young fellow, glancing over
his shoulder at a fair, slight girl of about five-and-
twenty, 'you won't mind a little kid, I know.'
A Little Traveller
They bundled into the carriage and took their seat
opposite the child, who eyed them gravely.
Their name was Myers, and they were brother and
sister. The former was in ill-health through having
overworked his strength in studying for the Bar.
His father, a medical man of some standing, had
ordered him to the seaside, and strongly advised
the seaboard of Cornwall; and so to the land of
cream and pasties he and his sister were now tra-
'We were not a moment too soon, Harry,' re-
marked the girl, who was as sweet-looking as she was
fair, as the engine whistle shrilled through their ears.
'We are off, and the friends of that little mite,'
looking at the child, 'are not here.'
'No; and she does not appear to mind,' laughed the
young man. Isn't she a beauty, though ? I don't
remember ever seeing a more exquisite face.'
'Yes, she is very lovely,' responded the girl; and
to their surprise the child chimed in,-
'Me sink so too!' and opening the bundle on her
lap, she showed them the ugliest doll they had ever
It was a wooden one with black woolly hair. Its
mouth alone was enough to strike terror into the
heart of any child.
'Ess, she is p'etty,' the child said again; and the
proud intonation of the sweet little voice was delight-
'Whose ever child is she?' said Mr. Myers. 'It is
very remarkable that such a mere babe should be
here in a railway carriage alone. It looks fishy,
Edith, to say the least.'
A Little Traveller 25
'I would not say that, Harry. I daresay her
friends are in the train. They may have sprung into
the nearest carriage as it was starting. I do not envy
their feelings, poor things. They must be in a great
state of mind by now.'
'The child takes it calmly enough, though,' returned
the young barrister with a superior smile. 'Ah, my
dear, you know very little of the ways of this wicked
'I know more than you think,' said the girl, laugh-
I shall cross-question the little thing about her
missing relatives. It will be practice for me, you
know, sis, and may help me to a brief!'
'She is so very small, Harry; I doubt if she will
be able to give you the least bit of information.'
'Won't she, though? She has a wonderful wise
look in those beautiful eyes of hers. Solomon could
not have looked wiser.'
Harry Myers was devoted to children, and had a
happy knack of drawing them out, and he no sooner
set himself to draw out the child than she gave him
a most fascinating little smile.
'I say, little one,' patting the head of the doll which
she held up for him to notice, 'won't you tell me
whose little girl you are?'
'Me movver's,' answered the child.
'Of course, you dear little thing! But how did
"mother" come to let her little child travel all by
'Me isn't,' protested the mite, opening her eyes
very wide. 'God is wiff us. Didn't you know dat?'
and the surprise and the reproach in her voice was
A Little Traveller
not lost on the young man. 'Me movver did say
dat God would go wiff us all the way to grand-
'I am quietly sat upon at the outset, Edith,' said
Mr. Myers, turning to his sister. I wonder if she is
older than she looks ?'
'How old are you, darling?' asked Miss Myers
leaning towards the child.
'Free, going in my five.'
'Three, going in your five, are you?' Harry put in,
laughing. 'Why, you are getting quite aged.'
'Me is. The cernel what gived me Miss Marfa,'
again holding up her doll, 'said me was 'vancing in
years. Hush p'ease; you will wake my child,' as a
burst of laughter followed her quaint little speech.
'She has had the tooffache, and has just gone to
sleep. Have you ever had the tooffache?' looking
straight at the young barrister.
'Alas, often!' he answered with a grimace. 'Have
'Ess, years ago, when I was twite little Me had it
awful-under my pinafore.'
The shriek that followed made the small face go
crimson, and she bent over her doll.
'She is the oddest, dearest little scrap of humanity
I was ever privileged to meet,' said Mr. Myers as
soon as he could speak.
'Me isn't a strap of oomanity,' cried the child, lift-
ing her little face, on which the lovely flush still
lingered. 'I am God's littlee child,' and she bowed
her head reverently.
The brother and sister exchanged glances, but
neither of them spoke.
A Little Traveller
There was a silence of many minutes, and then
Harry began to talk of Cornwall.
'We is going to Tornwall, too,' put in the child,
hearing what was evidently to her a familiar name;
'see!' and she pulled round a card the woman had
fastened round her neck, which neither of them had
noticed before, and on which was printed in large
MISS JENNIFER PENWARDEN LEFROY,
'Jennifer! what an uncommon name!' said Miss
Myers, reading the address. 'Are you called Jenni-
fer, dear child?'
'Me movver called me dat, and daddy and the
cernel called me Beauty.'
'I expect the colonel, whoever he was, had Beauty
and the Beast in his mind when he gave the child
the ugly doll,' said Harry, with a smile. 'The little
thing gets more and more interesting, Edith, and she
certainly is a beauty without paint or polish. But it's
quite beyond my comprehension how such an attrac-
tive little creature was ever allowed to take a journey
alone; or, as I should say, without human companion-
ship. The fact of her having an addressed card
attached to her small person shows that none of her
friends are in the train. I wonder if there will be
a grandfather to meet her at the end of her journey?'
I am beginning to fear there won't be,' responded
'I almost hope there won't,' said Harry. 'She
would be a delightful companion, and would enter-
A Little Traveller
tain us by her quaint little speeches during my en-
forced holiday, and then we would take her home to
the pater as a present from Cornwall. He would be
perfectly charmed with her, I'm certain, and would
perhaps adopt her.'
'He would have to adopt the lovely Miss Martha
as well,' said Edith, smiling; 'they are evidently in-
separable.' And then speaking to the child, she said
in her winning way, 'Won't you tell me the reason
you are going to Cornwall to grandpapa's without
mother and the colonel ?'
'Me don't know,' she answered slowly, a puzzled
expression stealing into her great brown eyes.
'Daddy wanted to tome, but the cernel sent him
away in a g'eet big ship to In-d-ia.'
Her little tongue had great difficulty in bringing
out so big a word.
'Did the colonel send mother away in the ship too,
'No,' shaking her head; 'me movver went up the
'Whatever does the child mean, Edith ?' Harry
'What steps, darling ?' asked the girl.
'God's Steps,' responded little Jennifer, looking out
of the carriage window and up to the May sky, filled
with soft, floating clouds.
The sister and brother again exchanged glances.
'So Jennifer's dear mother has gone up God's
great Steps ?' said the young lady when the child's
lovely face was again turned towards her.
'Ess, she went up dem twite early, when me littlee
b'own peepers was shut tight. God's big white
A Little Traveller
angels tame for her, and she had to go. Me is going
up the Steps one day; me movver said me must,' she
The young barrister was deeply moved, and he
said in a low voice to his sister,-
'The dear little thing is evidently motherless; and
as the mother can't have been dead long, by the
child being able to talk of her, I can't understand
how she is not in mourning.'
'Me is in morning,' put in the child. 'It is morn-
ing now, tause I hasn't had my littlee snooze. Didn't
you know that God made the morning every day ?'
and once more her large trustful eyes were fixed on
his face in wondering surprise.
I am ashamed to say that I have thought very
little about it, Jennifer,' he answered, the colour dye-
ing his thin cheeks.
'Poor Mr. Gentleman!' murmured the child, gazing
at him pityingly. 'Doesn't you know nuffing?'
'Not very much, I am afraid,' he answered lightly;
'not so much as you know, with all my knowledge of
the world and Oxford degree, you dear little thing;'
and he looked out of the window.
'" Thou hast hid those things from the wise and
prudent, and revealed them unto babes,"' said Edith
in an undertone.
Jennifer did not grow less interesting as the train
sped on, but they did not learn anything more from
her as to whom she belonged, except that she was to
be grandpapa's little maid and was going to 'Torn-
At every station the train stopped, the guard, into
whose charge the child was given, thrust his head
A Little Traveller
into the carriage, and finding Jennifer in good com-
pany, gave a grunt of satisfaction.
Mr. Myers questioned him about the child, but he
could not tell him anything more than he already
knew, except that an elderly woman had put her into
the carriage, and hurried away as the train was about
'And she will be left on the Company's hands,' he
said gloomily; 'and I shall be hauled over the coals.'
'You need not trouble,' Harry hastened to say.
'We shall only be too glad to take charge of her.'
When the train had passed Truro, Miss Myers be-
thought herself of the luncheon-basket, and taking it
from under the seat, she opened it.
Jennifer's eyes showed deep interest in the basket,
and when the young lady took out a chicken, dainty
slices of ham, and other delicacies, she gave a deli-
cious little chuckle not unlike the giggle of a kitti-
'We is going to have our dinner,' she said confi-
dentially to her doll; 'and our littlee tum-tums is twite
weddy for it, isn't they, dearest ?'
Miss Jennifer Penwarden Lefroy and her dearest
Miss Martha are taking it as a matter of course that
they are to share our luncheon,' said Harry, laughing.
' The doll is so scraggy that a little filling out will, I
think, improve her appearance.'
I do believe, Harry, you are better already,' said
his sister, looking at him, her gentle face one smile.
She was a good girl, and deeply attached to her
brother. Naturally his state of health was a great
anxiety to her. 'I don't think you have laughed so
much and said so many little jokes for months past.'
A Little Traveller
'You must thank Jennifer for any improvement
in my spirits, and the beautiful Miss Martha, who, by
the size of her mouth, looks as if she could swallow
the whole chicken at a gulp.'
Jennifer was given a good share of the lunch-
basket. She was really hungry, and made a hearty
meal. The air became colder as the day advanced,
and the invalid felt the change at once, and his cough
'You bad?' asked the child; 'got a cough like
'I am not very well, Jennifer,' he answered, when
he could get his breath.
'I so sorry, Mr. Gentleman. Never mind, God will
make you better; Jennifer will ask Him to make
you well twick;' and the child put up her sweet little
face to kiss him.
'I thank you, you dear little soul,' said the young
man, lifting the child on his knee, perhaps to hide the
tears that her simple words had brought to his dark
eyes. 'Your prayers can do me no harm, and, who
knows- He broke off abruptly, and his thin
fingers played with her golden curls.
'One would think, Edith,' he said after awhile
'that the dad sent me to Cornwall for something
besides strength;' and his half-mocking laugh, which
showed a heart ill at ease, fell painfully on his sister's
'The soul has its need of health as well as the
body,' she said, in her quiet way. 'Perhaps the
Great Physician put one of His little ones here to
show you its need. It is astonishing what strange
means He uses to bring us closer to Him who is our
A Little Traveller
health and strength. "The prattle of a little child, a
flower even, a Providence, a memory of past years
suddenly flashing across the mind, we know not
whence, may serve as instruments to God the Holy
Ghost," as one of our good bishops says.'
'Say no more, Edith, I entreat you,' said her
brother gruffly. 'You are a good little soul, I know,
but I did not know before that you were given to
'Forgive me, dear. It was your own remark that
called for it; I should not have spoken else.'
How glad I am that I can pray !' she remarked to
herself, 'and that it is written, Fear not, thy prayer
is heard." I must wait in Christ's patience for the
answer, which will come some day.'
Jennifer was so comfortable on Mr. Myers' knee
that she quickly fell asleep, and slept soundly until
the train steamed into Penzance station, when she
had to be roused. By the time she was fully awake
most of the passengers had left the train, and Harry
and his sister were preparing to do the same, and
taking the child with them, when he saw an old
gentleman, carrying a plum-coloured coat on his arm,
crossing the platform.
'Look, Edith! he is come!'
'Who?' she asked, looking about her.
'Jennifer's grandfather, of course; that old man
in knee-breeches and silk stockings. Don't you see
'I do now. What a nice old gentleman he looks!
and so quaint, just as if he had stepped out of a
picture-frame;' and Edith gazed at him until he
turned to speak to the guard.
A Little Traveller 33
'He would make a grand model for one of the
patriarchs, with his fine physique and flowing hair
and beard,' said her brother. I should not wonder
if Jennifer did not get her beauty from him.
The guard came to the door a' few minutes
'There's nobody come for the child yet, sir,' he
said respectfully. 'I have had my eye on the carriage.
I felt pretty sure she would not be inquired for.'
'Do you know the old gentleman who has just
come into the station ?' asked Edith.
'No, miss; I haven't the least idea who he is.
He told me he was expecting a young miss in her
teens by this train. She hasn't turned up, much to
his disappointment, and he is a bit down in the
mouth about it, poor old chap. He can't believe
she hasn't come, and is looking into every carriage.
I hope he don't think we are in the habit of hiding
away young misses! The child here is the only
young miss, except yourself, ma'am, and I saw him
looking hard at you.'
'That is prettily said,' cried Harry, laughing. 'My
sister does not, I am afraid, quite answer to the young
miss expected-nor the child,' his eyes wandering to
'He is coming here now, sir, to have a squint into
this carriage, I suppose,' cried the guard, and he
moved back as Mr. Penwarden-it was he-came
'The little maid is not in this carriage either,' they
heard him say, after looking into it. 'Perhaps she
will come by a later train; I must stay until it comes.
It is a pity she hasn't come, as I am sure-Philadelphia
A Little Traveller
will be worried in mind, like Collins' cow, at our
being out after dark.'
'Nobody has come to meet the child in this car-
riage,' said the guard, slipping forward as the old
gentleman turned to go.
'What child ?' looking into the carriage again.
'The little bit of a child with the doll, sir. She
has travelled all the way from Plymouth by herself.'
'What! that little thing ?' cried the old man,
noticing Jennifer for the first time.
'Yes, sir. She is labelled, you see, and she is the
prettiest bit of goods that was ever ticketed.'
'Who is she?' he asked, looking intently at the
'Miss Jennifer Penwarden Lefroy,' put in Mr.
Myers gruffly, pointing to the card. He did not like
the thought of giving her up, and yet he could not
Mr. Penwarden gave a start, and then stared with
bewildered eyes at his small granddaughter. 'I
suppose it is the young maid I have come to meet;
but I did not expect to see a babe.'
'Me isn't a babe,' cried Jennifer, her little face
going red with indignation.
You are advancing in years, aren't you, Jennifer ?'
whispered Harry in her ear.
'Me is,' she returned gravely.
'My dear, I am your grandfather,' said the old
man, after gazing at her until he was ashamed. 'Will
you come with me?'
Jennifer scanned his face for a second, and being
satisfied that he really was her grandfather, she
stretched out her small hand to him. He took it,
A Litle Traveller 35
and drawing her to him, bent his tall form and kissed
'So you are Joyce's little maid,' he said, in a voice
that trembled with emotion, 'and my dear little
'Ess; and dis is Miss Marfa, your g'eat-grand-
daughter, daddy did say;' and she presented the
ugly doll to him 'with quite a grandmotherly air,'
Harry whispered to his sister. Kiss her, p'ease,
gwanpapa,' and she held it up.
The old gentleman, however, declined that honour,
much to her disappointment, as those who were
watching her could tell by the drop of her under-lip.
'Good-bye,' cried Jennifer, looking back over her
shoulder at Mr. and Miss Myers, nodding her head
as her grandfather led her away. 'God b'ess you.'
'Good-bye, my darling,' they cried; and Edith
added, 'and may God bless you, too, dear little
I feel quite sore at parting from the child,' said
Mr. Myers, as they stood watching her and the old
gentleman walking slowly out of the station. If
only we could have kept her-the darling! That old
fellow won't half appreciate her.'
I am not so sure about that, Harry. Didn't you
see his face when he had taken in that she was indeed
the child he had come to meet? There were tears in
his eyes as he gazed at her. He did look so sad,
poor old man. If a child can comfort him, Jennifer
will. That child will be a blessing wherever she goes.
I feel better for knowing her, dear little soul, and her
great love for that unsightly doll has taught me a
36 A Little Traveller
It was well on in the afternoon when Mr. Penwar-
den and little Jennifer drove out of Penzance in the
mule-chariot on their way to Penwarden, which was
nine miles or more from that queen of watering-
places. Dandy took his time going through the
quiet lanes-quiet save for the melody of birds which
floated down from the sky and burst from the hedge-
rows brilliant with May blossoms.
The old gentleman was very quiet. He was
thinking of Joyce, and thanking God in his heart for
the little child who had come to take her place in
his heart and home. He did not speak to her until
they were passing an old Cornish cross standing out
on the left side of the road. There are many such
crosses scattered about the Cornish land, put up by
our Christian ancestors to remind the wayfarer of
Him who for our sakes and all mankind went-
'A weary Pilgrim in the desert way, and walked
Slowly with bleeding feet amongst the thorns,
Past Tabor's splendour to the darkened height
Of sorrow-stricken Calvary.'
And there on the altar of the cross He offered up
Himself a complete, perfect, and sufficient Sacrifice
for the sins of the whole world.
The old man's eyes rested for a moment on the
moor stone cross, over which the late afternoon sun
had thrown a warm light, and brought out in clear
distinctness the rude carving of two crosses in the
centre of its circular head and shaft, and then turned
to the child.
'Are you very tired ?' he asked.
'Not veddy,' she answered; 'but Miss Marfa is.
A Little Traveller
'Tis getting near her s'eepy time adain. We nearly
'No; we are a long way from home yet,' looking
at her and smiling.
He wanted to talk to her, but she was such a tiny
creature that he did not know what to say. If she
were only a little maid in her teens, I should know
what to talk to her about,' he said to himself; and so
he did not speak to her again, although he often
gazed at her and tried to see some likeness to his
Joyce, until they reached Buryas Bridge, a pretty
spot some three miles out of Penzance, with cottages
almost smothered in ivies and roses, and backed by
Cornish elms, and within sound of a river that made
its way under the arches of an old stone bridge, ivy-
draped like the cottages, and then he only remarked
that it was a long drive from Penzance to Pen-
A woman caught sight of the mule-carriage as it
was crossing the bridge, and she came down to her
I thought it was your trap, Mr. Penwarden,' drop-
ping a curtsey; I haven't caught sight of 'ee this
longful time. How are 'ee an ?'
Before he could reply her eyes fell on Jennifer,
whose small arms were enfolding her doll, and she
My dear life! What a lovely little maid! Wher-
ever in the world did 'ee pick her up?'
'At Penzance. She is my daughter's little maid.'
'Well, to be sure I have heard tell that you once
had a daughter. And this is her little child, is it ?
You must be fine and proud of her,' as the old man
38 A Little Traveller
nodded. 'She looks as sweet as a garden of gilly-
flowers. But what an ugly doll she've got! It is as
ugly as the Man of the Downs;' and she pointed to
the tableland standing out against the melting blue
of the sunny sky.
I must make Dandy go faster,' said the old man,
as they were driving slowly along, 'else we shan't get
home to-night, and what will Philadelphia say ?' And
he touched the mule's back with his whip, which,
however, made no impression on that stubborn animal,
or he went on in the same leisurely pace until they
had passed a village called Drift, near which stood
another wayside cross, when he thought well to in-
crease his speed.
The cultivated lands were then quickly left behind,
and they were soon passing over wild, romantic downs,
splendid with golden furze and many a down flower,
and musical with whispering streams and the un-
chained melody of larks pouring out their love songs
above the boulder-strewn hills.
Jennifer was delighted with the mass of colour the
downs presented, and held up her doll as they were
passing a furze brake-a sheet of shining gold-and
whispered to it to listen to the little bird-angels sing-
ing up in the sky.
The old man smiled at her quaintness, and then he
sighed, as he remembered how often he had driven
that child's mother over those same downs, and
listened to her talk too. 'My little Joyce thought
that the furze blossoms were broken bits of stars
caught on the furze hqoks,' he said to himself; and
again he looked at little Jennifer, and noticed for the
first time how beautiful she was, and how tenderly
A Little Traveller
the 'golden grapelets of her hair' curled round the
edge of her grey hood, and the sight gave him
They were more than half-way over the downs by
this time, and were drawing near a great hillock, grey
and gold with boulders and gorse, and silver with
'the foam-like blossoms' of the May. Jennifer's eyes
were on this hill, and as they were driving by, the
small chubby hands again held up the doll to look
at a great bush of hawthorn, when a whirr of wings
of a startled bird from the head of the hillock made
her glance to the top of it, and there, peering between
some brambles, was a strange, dark face. The face
was extraordinarily ugly-more like the face of a
baboon than anything else, and the eyes fixed on the
child and the uplifted doll in her hands looked fierce
and wild. The man, for such he was, was completely
hidden by gorse and brambles, except his head.
Jennifer saw him, and her little voice rang out clear
and sweet like the first notes of a bird at the dawn
Why, dere is Mr. Marfa !' and she pointed to the
top of the mound.
Mr. Penwarden looked up quickly, and was just
in time to see the ugly face disappear behind the
He is the Man of the Downs,' he said, and he
gazed anxiously at Jennifer, to see if such an un-
sightly vision had any ill-effect on her, and to his
surprise, instead of showing any sign of terror, her
little face looked as glad as if she had seen a vision
'She does not know fear,' he said to himself. 'Ah,
A Little Traveller
it is years ago since I saw that poor fellow, and he is
uglier than ever.'
After the hill was passed, Jennifer talked much to
her doll about Mr. Marfa. Strange to tell, the face
that had looked out of the brambles was not unlike
the face of the doll which the child held so carefully,
only it was the uglier of the two-it had the same
flat nose and wide mouth and coarse black hair.
Jennifer must have seen some resemblance to have
called him Mr. Marfa.'
Dandy, after he had passed the hillock, went at a
slow pace once more, and not even the whip would
make him increase his speed. The gentle rocking
motion over the heather and the strong sea air made
Jennifer sleepy again, but she did her best to keep
awake, and succeeded until they had passed St.
Burian Churchtown, through which they had to
drive to get to St. Levan, when her pretty head
began to droop, and by the time they came to the
first wayside cottage she was fast asleep; and when
her grandfather once more turned his attention to
her, she was lying back in the carriage, with her little
face upturned to the sky. He took her up, and made
a pillow with a shawl Philadelphia's thoughtfulness
had provided to wrap round her, in case her young
mistress should feel cold, and laid her little head on
it, and then covered her over with his overcoat.
The wind freshened as they passed the picturesque
little fishing cove called Penberth, and when they
reached Penwarden it was blowing quite cold, al-
though the sun still shone brightly.
T E should not like to say how many times Miss
Philadelphia looked at the kitchen clock
After her master set out for Penzance. She
thought the hands had never moved so slowly.
She was busy to within an hour of the time she ex-
pected Mr. Penwarden. The oven, the crock, and the
brandis (an iron triangular stand for resting anything
on the fire) were never put to so much service since
the last harvest home, and the appetising dishes and
toothsome stuffs the oven and the crock turned out
was enough to feed a whole parish !
When the table had been laid for supper to her
satisfaction in the dining-room-a room never used
but on very grand occasions-the old woman retired
to her room to titivatee' herself, and ordered Mary
Jane and Methuselah Polgrain-the factotum of Pen-
warden House-to do likewise, to be in readiness to
receive their young mistress with due respect and
When the mule-chariot stopped at the garden gate,
she was standing on the doorstep in all the glory of
a snow-white bordered cap with a band of black
ribbon-put on that day as an outward sign of inward
mourning for her'dear Miss Joyce'-and a black
satin gown, which was presented to her by her master
when he was married, and which she seldom wore,
except on the two great festivals of the Christian year,
-waiting to receive her master's granddaughter. Be-
hind her, looking over her shoulder, were Methuselah
and Mary Jane in their Sunday best.
Methuselah, or Thuse, as he was sometimes called
for shortness' sake, was a huge fellow, with hair as
grey as the Cornish carns, and a nose as fiery as
Mary Jane's hair, but it was not through intemperate
habits, for he drank nothing stronger than tea.
The garden gate was opened wide, that the carriage
might come up to the house.
Miss Tresidder was very excited, and would like to
have shaken some of it out of herself, but dared not,
for fear of giving out of seams. Her gown was a very
tight fit. It had been let out and pieces let in more
than once, but its wearer had grown so rotund with
years that she had now great difficulty in getting the
bodice to meet.
'I don't see no young mistus (mistress), Miss
Philadelphia,' said Methuselah in a loud whisper, as
they watched the carriage coming up the drive.
'You always carry your eyes in the back of your
head when you want to see long with 'em,' she
cried, with her nose in the air. 'If the young
mistress was as small as a baby, perhaps you would
be able to see her fast enough.'
I don't see nothing but would master, neither,' put
in Mary Jane.
'Both of 'ee are as blind as bats,' snapped Miss
Tresidder, whose temper was getting the better of
It was a good thing for them both that the carriage
stopped at the door at that moment, for she was ready
to box their ears for their blindness and stupidity.
Her own sight was dim with tears; she was actually
crying for joy; and by the time she had taken a
handkerchief out of her pocket to wipe her eyes, Mr.
Penwarden had stepped out of the chariot, and there
was nobody in it that she could see.
'Thuse and Mary Jane was right, after all,' she
muttered. 'There isn't any little maid, and master
went on a fool's errand. I've put on my bestest gown,
too, and almost squeezed the life out of me for
nothing at all, and I may as well clap the beautiful
supper into the pigs' buckets.'
'We was right, Miss Phil,' said Mary Jane, with a
'Right for once in your life, you born idiot!' she
snarled, waddling down the steps to the carriage.
'Then you tired out Dandy's legs for nothing ?' she
'The little maid is worth tiring out any one's legs,
let alone a beast's,' he returned cheerfully.
Philadelphia stared, but said nothing.
'She is asleep,' he said softly, as if afraid his voice
would wake the child.
'She? Whoever are 'ee talking about, sir?' cried
Miss Tresidder, looking utterly bewildered.
'The little maid, to be sure.'
'The little maid, master? Than she did come,
after all? But what have 'ee been and done with
her ? You have never left her behind or upon the
road ?' and the old woman felt quite faint from fear
as to what her master had done with the child.
'No,' he said, and a smile lit up his face, and lean-
ing over the back of the carriage, he gently put back
the coat, and revealed to her astonished gaze the
sleeping child, whose beautiful little face was pressed
against her ugly doll. She held her breath as she
gazed, and as soon as she could find her tongue, she
'Oh! master, is that handsome darling Miss
Joyce's little maid ? Well, to be sure !' as her master
nodded. 'She almost took my speech away. I
never expected to see a little bit of cheeld like this,
who is the beautifullest little dear I ever set eyes on.'
The dogs by this time had found out that their
master had arrived, and came scampering and bark-
ing up the garden ; and Bran, sniffing a stranger,
jumped into the carriage and put his cold nose
against Jennifer's hand, and woke her.
She was rather alarmed at first at the great dog
and so many strange faces, for Methuselah and Mary
Jane had ventured to come down the steps and stare
at the 'young mistress' too, and there was a sus-
picious droop of the lips; and then, seeing there was
nothing to hurt her, she smiled up at them, to their
intense delight, and then sitting up, held out her arms
'The pretty dear knew 'twas her mother's Phillie,
that she did,' the old housekeeper said, with a proud
ring in her voice; and heedless of bursting seams, she
took the child out of the carriage, and smothered her
with kisses, and then she carried her into the house,
and up the wide oak stairs to a room facing the west,
to take off her things, and to have her all to herself
for a few happy minutes.
When she had taken off Jennifer's hood, and saw
Jennzfer's -Reception 45
her small, bright head, with its clustering curls, she
could hardly contain herself.
'They haven't put on a bit of mourning,' she said,
after her excitement had somewhat abated, and she
had removed the little coat and looked at the child,
who had on a white flannel frock and a pinafore. 'But
there there is no need to wear black for those who
are wearing white in heaven;' and taking her by the
hand, she led her downstairs to the dining-room,
where Mr. Penwarden and the dogs were waiting
patiently for their supper.
The King Charlies-as Philadelphia called them-
snarled as Jennifer entered the room; but Bran came
to her side, wagging his great tail, and otherwise
showing himself friendly towards her.
'Oh, you are a bad lot!' exclaimed Miss Tresidder,
speaking to the spaniels. 'But your day is done.
The cheeld has come to put your cold little noses
out of joint, so snarl whilst you have the opportunity.
Bran knows how to behave to his young mistress,
and he shall have a bone worth picking by-and-by.'
Before taking her seat at the foot of the table, she
had to send Mary Jane to the garret to bring down
a baby-chair, before Jennifer could be seated by her
grandfather's side at the head. The table, with a
cloth of the finest damask, was laden with all manner
of good things, pasties and cakes, and the centre
graced by a large china bowl filled with junket-and
all for a small maiden of three years and nine
months, whose chair of state was a baby-chair, and
whq was too young to partake of any of the rich
things provided for her except the junket.
The child was as fresh as a rose after her second
good sleep that day, and gazed with great brown,
wondering eyes at everything, especially at the Blen-
heims, who, the moment Mr. Penwarden took his
place at the table, sprang into the chairs, four on
either side, put there for their special use. They
had their meals with their eccentric master, and
eight tin plates were always laid for them on the
table, although they were not allowed to eat until he
had finished. Philadelphia, knowing the old gentle-
man's weakness in this respect, and not liking to
send them into the back kitchen to have their supper
this evening more than on any other, had laid plates
and set chairs for them as usual.
It was a comical sight, and yet artistic-the aristo-
cratic-looking old man in his ancient, sombre garb,
seated in a fiddle-backed chair; the beautiful little
child at his side with her doll on her lap; the old
housekeeper opposite them, her face chastened with
weeping under her white cap; the large dining-table
in all its glory of fine linen and silver and sweet May
flowers; the eight little spaniels with eight little
plates before them, which were brighter than the
huge apostle spoon lying beside a big china junket-
bowl, watching their master's every movement with
soft, bright eyes, and the big room wainscotted and
large-windowed, through which the evening sun was
pouring a wealth of golden light and shedding a
splendour over all.
'We hasn't said our grace yet,' said Jennifer, when
she was asked what she would have to eat, and fold-
ing her dimpled hands, she bowed her golden head
and waited. Mr. Penwarden looked uncomfortable
but did not attempt to ask a blessing.
Maister, do say grace. The child won't eat until
you have, I can see,' said Philadelphia, looking al-
most as unhappy as he. 'We haven't thanked the
good Lord for His bountiful goodness for many a
long year-more shame to us-but that is no reason
why we shouldn't now. We must be careful of our
Christian manners now we've got a little maid to live
Mr. Penwarden, with a flushed face, was clearing
his throat to do what he was asked, when Jennifer,
tired of waiting, lisped,-
P'ease God b'ess our food for Tis sake. Amen.'
And then, raising her face, she glanced at the eatables.
'What will you have, my lovely ?' asked Philadel-
phia, her voice unsteady with emotion, for the simple
grace had touched her deeply.
Me and Miss Marfa would like some of dat, p'ease,'
pointing to the centre dish.
'You shall.' And the old servant put some of
the cool junket into her plate, and then she, the old
grandfather, and the Blenheims watched her whilst
she ate, and the latter gave little snaps at every
spoonful she put into her rosy mouth. Bran, sitting
by the side of his master's chair, watched too, and
every now and again Jennifer, after putting her spoon
to her doll's mouth, held it out to him, but he was
too well bred to take advantage of such a tiny
The sun was setting the sea on fire and shedding a
warm glow over the great grey cliffs and couchant
headlands, many of which could be seen from the
high ground of Penwarden, when Philadelphia laid
Jennifer in the small bed in which her mother had
slept from her earliest girlhood until she left her
It was evident to both Mr. Penwarden and Phila-
delphia, even if they had not known by the letter,
that the child had been religiously brought up, and
that whatever the poor mother had lacked in her own
training, little Jennifer had not suffered. The child,
when the old housekeeper proposed her going to bed,
showed no unwillingness; but when she was robed in
her little white night-gown, she would not allow her-
self to be lifted into her bed until her grandfather
had come up to hear her say her prayers.
Philadelphia actually sobbed aloud, to the wonder
of the child, when she lisped, 'P'ease God forgive
poor sorry movver, and make gwanpapa love her like
he used to do;' and the old man hastened out of the
chamber to hide his emotion as soon as she had
finished her prayers.
That night, when all was still, and nothing heard
save the tick, tick of the clock and the low roar of
the great waves thundering on the seashore not a
mile away, Mr. Penwarden crept up the stairs and
into Jennifer's room, and stood beside her bed. The
moon was up, and her silver beams flooded the
chamber and showed the sleeping child, one dimpled
arm arching her lovely head. He stood for a long
time looking at her, and then dropped on his knees,
and there he knelt until the moon set and the stars
grew indistinct in the young dawn.
A TALK WITH PHILADELPHIA
ENNIFER in a few weeks was as much at home in
the ancient house as if she had lived there all
her infant life. She had such dear little ways
that even the spoilt Blenheims could not resist
her long, and it was not a great while before they
allowed her to play with them, and even to pull
their little tails. Bran, whose affections she had won
at first, followed her about everywhere. The grey-
haired, red-nosed Methuselah, who disliked children,
was also won by her fascinating little ways; and as
for the squint-eyed Mary Jane, Philadelphia told her
master there was no getting her to do anything
when little Miss Jennifer was near.
The child was a happy little soul, more grave than
merry, perhaps, but sometimes 'crazy with laughter
and babble and earth's new wine,' and the old house-
keeper said her little tuneful voice and happy chatter
was more musical than running streams and singing
The morning after Jennifer's arrival, as Philadel-
phia was dusting her master's writing-room, he came
into the apartment. He generally beat a hasty re-
treat when the room was being dusted, but to-day he
stood watching her.
J.M. 49 D
50 A Talk with Philadelziaz
'The master has something on his mind, or he
would not stand there gaping like an oyster,' said
the old woman, watching him out of the corners of
her dark, keen eyes. 'Bout the cheeld, I s'pose. He
don't look the same man. Trouble or no trouble, his
face looks as bright as a sunshiny day.'
'Philadelphia,' said the old gentleman, leaning
his back against the china cupboard, 'I know you
always take the deepest interest in me and mine,
'Bless my soul, what's ever coming ?' muttered the
old woman, as her master paused.
'And that you cared enough for me to tell me my
faults. Well, Phillie,' as she stood looking at him,
duster in hand, I only think it kind to tell you that
God in His infinite mercy used Joyce's letter to
bring me back to Him. I wanted to tell you this
the night before the child came, but I could not; and
now I can only say that after you were all in bed I
went into the room where the child slept, and there
in the stillness of the night, as I knelt by the little
maid, I just gave myself to Him. I mean to do my
best to serve Him-with His help, of course, for I
can do nothing of myself, Phillie. I have been long-
ing to do this for years, and the letter and the child
brought me to the point, thank God!'
To say that the old servant was surprised to hear
her master speak thus would give an idea of what
her face expressed.
'Then you will be going to church again, like you
used in the good old days ?' she said after a silence
of a few minutes.
He gave a start. Somehow it had never entered
A Talk wit Philadelp;/ia 51
his mind that his religion would take him that far.
Loneliness and solitary Sundays had become almost
a necessity to him, and his face paled.
'I know what you are thinking of, master,' cried
the old woman: 'of what folks will say to see you
in church again after never going for over eighteen
years. 'Tis easier to put on clouts than to leave 'em
off, isn't it, sir ? But you will have to think of your
duty towards God and your neighbour-Miss Jenni-
fer, I mean.'
'But Jennifer is much too young to go to church,'
'Ah! the devil is a sharp would chap, master, and
is ever at hand to clap on handles to our foolish ex-
cuses. You forget what the Bible do say, sir-" not
forsaking the assembling of yourselves together."
And as to the dear cheeld, I am almost sure she has
been used to attending church, from what I hear her
saying to that ugly doll of hers.'
'In that case I will go, and take the child,' said the
old man, in his slow, measured tones. 'I must not
let her forget what her mother taught her of God.
She is a blessing to us now; but if I fail in my
duty towards her, she might grow up to be a curse.
I am only too conscious, alas! of not doing my
duty to my own motherless child. But I will not,
God helping me, offend in this way to her little
'That's right, master. And I hope, when you go
to church on Sunday, you won't mind what folks
say. Their tongues can't really hurt the soul, sir,
although the nasty red things do manage to sting
like nettles. But bless me, sir, what am I saying?
52 A Talk with Philadelphia
You must be as meek as Moses to let me talk to you
in this style. 'Tis the privilege of old servants to
say pretty much what they like.'
'I think it must be, Philadelphia,' said Mr. Pen-
warden, with unconscious sarcasm. 'It is evidently
Saturday at Penwarden was a very busy day.
Miss Tresidder called it 'The King Charlies' Wash-
The little beasts knew as well as possible when
that day came around, and consequently went about
the house with a dejected look on their faces, and
with their tails between their legs; and when the
huge kettle of water was put on the brandis in the
back kitchen for their bath, they one and all set up a
dismal howl, and Bran, pitying them, only added to
the din by an occasional loud bark. Even Jennifer
noticed the poor little spaniels' unhappiness, and
asked her grandfather why the dogs cried so.
'Because they are going to be washed, and have
their coats made clean for Sunday,' said the old
man, going into the back kitchen, followed by the
'Jennifer must be made nice for Sunday, too,
grandpapa,' as he dragged from under the table a
huge tub kept for the purpose to wash the Blen-
heims in, 'and go to church with you. Movver
said Jennifer must wear her p'etty bonnet and
'Did she, sweetheart ? Then grandfather will take
you. Ah, here comes Mary Jane and the dogs !'
'I've had fine trouble to catch 'em, sir,' said the
girl, panting. 'Dodo hid himself in the clothes-
A Tale wit/h P/ziladelphia
basket. Here's your pinny, masterr' holding out a
large white pinafore, which her master put on, to
the great wonder of little Jennifer, who evidently
thought it was quite a new departure in the masculine
Mr. Penwarden always washed the dogs himself,
and the child stood by him and watched the pro-
ceedings, and so did Bran.
Sunday turned out a very wild, stormy day, much
to Miss Tresidder's disappointment. She was half
afraid that her master would back out of going to
church, and she was anxious that the St. Levan
people should see what a beautiful child they had at
Penwarden. There was no such child in the whole
parish, she said.
The second Sunday was worse, if anything, and it
was wet and cold all the week after; but the third
Sunday, to the old woman's thankfulness, was every-
thing to be desired, and her master electrified
Methuselah by telling him to put the mule into the
carriage, as he was going to take Miss Jennifer to
Philadelphia got Jennifer ready in good time, and
brought her to her master's room, where he was
sitting with a very woe-begone expression on his fine
'Here's Miss Jennifer, in best bib and tucker; and
here's your Sunday hat. I brushed un last night
until he was shiny and smooth as glass, and every
hair in its place. Now, master, cheer up. Look at
the dear cheeld. Don't she look lovely in her white
hood and frock ? The colour of her hair will vie with
the golden buttercups. 'Tis a beautiful day-God's
54 A Talk with Philadelpfia
day, sure enough The birds are singing their life out,
almost, in the garden.'
'Me is twite weddy, grandpa,' Jennifer broke in.
'Look, me has on p'etty s'oes;' and she lifted her
tiny foot, that he might see the patent-leather shoe,
graced with a rosette of black ribbon.
'I am quite ready, too, Jennifer, thanks to kind
Phillie,' said the old gentleman; and he took the
little hand, and led her out of the house and down
the garden to the gate, where Dandy stood as still
as the hills, and looking as if nothing could move
'It is written in the Bible somewhere that a little
child shall lead them,' said Philadelphia to herself
as she watched the mule go step and step up the
valley. 'That Scripture is being fulfilled to poor
dear master, and it is Miss Joyce's little maid that is
sent to lead him again into the good old ways. I
had given up hoping of ever seeing him go to church
again. But the Lord can do wonders, even by the
hand of a croom of a child.'
Having seen the carriage out of the vale, she went
back to the house, put on her bonnet and shawl, and
she and Mary Jane were soon on their way to church
Mr. Penwarden and Jennifer came to the small
church, which is shut in from the sea by high ground,
as the bells were chiming, and mingling their chimes
with the sound of the waves that came over the hill
in subdued roars, as if afraid of drowning the poor
The door of the building was wide open, and as they
entered the porch and went down the steps, Jennifer
A Talk wikt Philadeldphia 55
caught sight of a very curious bit of carving in the
shape of two jesters in cap and bells. She pointed,
and would have spoken, but her grandfather drew her
quickly up the aisle.
St. Levan Church was, and still is, most interesting.
It was low-roofed, small-windowed, and full of quaint
relics of the Middle Ages; and old carvings of birds,
beasts, and fishes were everywhere, and a beautiful
carved screen, separating the chancel from the nave,
bore on its shield emblems of the Passion.
There were not many people gathered together
in the little church this morning. A few stalwart
fishermen from the fishing coves near, a farmer or
two, about a dozen children, half that number of
grannies and grandfathers, the old clerk, and two
strangers, whose faces lit up with pleased surprise
when they saw little Jennifer and Mr. Penwarden go
up the aisle, made up the entire congregation.
Many eyes beside the strangers' saw the old gentle-
man enter the church; but, fortunately for him, he
was too much taken up with Jennifer to notice the
gaping mouths of some of them and the significant
glances of others, and by the time he had settled
himself in his pew the service began. He felt very
nervous, and almost unhappy, at first, and it could
not be wondered at under the circumstances; but
that feeling soon left him, and he was thankful that
he had come. Only He 'to whom all hearts are
open, all secrets known,' knew the terrible struggle
he had had with himself to come there. After the
fight comes peace, and the peace of God rested on his
He enjoyed the service, and Jennifer was very
56 A Talk with Philadelphia
good, and sat as still as any old woman during the
When she and her grandfather came out of church,
they found most of the congregation in the church-
yard, evidently waiting for their appearance. They
were objects of the greatest interest, and the old
gentleman went as red as a peony when he saw so
many curious eyes fixed on him. He was about to
hasten his small granddaughter's slow steps when she
caught sight of the two strangers standing near a
large granite boulder broken in two, known as St.
Levan's Stone, and she pulled her hand out of his
and ran towards them.
These strangers were no other than Jennifer's
fellow-travellers. When they left their home they
had intended staying all their time at Penzance, but
Harry was restless, and would not stay there more
than a week, and so they came to St. Levan, and
took lodgings at Porthgwarra, a quaint hamlet situ-
ated in a picturesque little valley open to the sea,
and close to some of the grandest cliff scenery in
Cornwall. Neither Harry nor his sister knew that
Jennifer's grandfather lived in that neighbourhood
until they saw him come into church. They often
looked about at Penzance, hoping to meet her, but
they never dreamed of seeing her in the out-of-the-
way parish of St. Levan.
They were looking at the grey old stone as Mr.
Penwarden and the child came out of church, and
were listening to an old grannie who was telling
them a legend about it, which was, that when the
fissure would allow a horse and pack to pass through
it without touching, the end of the world would come!
A Talk with/ Philadelphia 57
The aged dame had all their attention at that
moment, and they were not aware of the little one's
presence until she caught hold of the young man's
Is it you, little Jennifer ?' he cried, turning round.
'Ah! this is a pleasure indeed. How is Miss
'Twite well, sank you.'
'Haven't you a word for me, Jennifer ?' asked Miss
Myers, 'and a kiss too ?'
'Ess,' said the child, holding up her face.
'You dear little thing! I wonder if you know
what joy it is to both my brother and myself to see
'Don't you want to see Miss Marfa too?' and
Jennifer looked rather wistfully up into the young
'Of course we do; don't we, Harry ? appealing to
'Yes, indeed, Jennifer. Now, won't you intro-
duce us to your grandfather, that we may have the
pleasure of seeing Miss Martha once more ?'
The child did not understand, and eyed him won-
'Did you ask God to make my brother better,
darling ?' whispered Edith.
'Me forgot; me twite forgot,' returned the little
one. 'Me is so sorry,' she added, as Edith looked
sad. 'Dere, gwanpapa is tailing. Dood-bye!' and
she ran off.
'You were very naughty to speak to strangers,'
cried Mr. Penwarden, somewhat severely, taking hold
of her hand. Tears filled her great brown eyes at
58 A Talk with Philadelphia
being so spoken to; and the old man, alarmed at the
sight of her distressed little face, and troubled at his
sharpness, did not hear the remarks of the people
about himself and the child as he passed.
THE MAN OF THE CARNS
NE morning in the middle of June Mr. Pen-
warden came into the kitchen, where he found
his granddaughter perched up at one end of the
long oak table, rolling out a piece of dough
with a tiny roller which Thuse had made for her.
He had come to tell Philadelphia that he was going
to Roscolwyn, his St. Burian estate. 'The men are
busy there to-day,' he added, as the old housekeeper
was cutting up meat for pasties. 'Give me some-
thing to put in my pocket, and send out some crowst
(lunch) for the men.'
'Me go wiff gwanpapa,' cried Jennifer, and she
dropped her roller and caught up her doll.
'I am afraid I cannot take you, dear. It is a long
way, and I am going to ride Merlin.'
'Me wide too,' said the child. Me would like to;'
and she looked up pleadingly into his face.
'You shall, then. Get her bonnet, Phillie.'
'And Miss Marfa's, too,' put in the child.
Philadelphia, as usual, went to see them off.
Jennifer looked such a fairy sitting in front of her
grandfather on the great horse, and the bonnie face
peeping out of a white sun-bonnet beamed with
delight. She held her doll in her arms, and its black
eyes were staring idiotically up at the blue sky.
The Man of the Carns
The morning was glorious, and the air so clear that
the distant carns looked only a mile away, and
seemed to stretch up to the great sky like beautiful
grey stairs. The sky was deeply blue and stainless,
save for one great cloud. Jennifer, after gazing at it
some minutes, whispered to her doll that the white
angels had lost a feather out of their wings. And,
really, it was not unlike what the child said.
Mr. Penwarden was in one of his quiet moods,
and hardly spoke to the child until they reached
Roscolwyn Cam, where they dismounted, to the
delight of Bran, who had accompanied them.
Most of the land in the neighbourhood of the carn
was uncultivated and covered with gorse and brambles,
and strewn with great grey boulders, 'as if from the
sling of angels hurled.'
When Mr. Penwarden had fastened his horse to
a furze-bush, he turned to Jennifer, who was gazing
'I shall have to leave you here with Bran whilst I
go and see how the men are getting on. They are
furze-cutting on the other side of the carn. If I were
to take you, the brambles would scratch your little
legs. You are as safe here as at home. You aren't
afraid of being left, are you ?'
'No; God will always take care of His littlee child,
me movver said.'
'You do not forget what mother told you, do you,
sweetheart ?' said the old man, looking down at her.
She had seated herself on a grey stone, cushioned
with orange lichen, and her feet were resting on a plat
of wild flowers, which was a broken fragment of rain-
The Man of the Carns 61
'Me movver said me must twy and 'member all our
littlee talks,' she answered, in her quaint, old-fashioned
Did you and mother often have little talks to-
gether, sweetheart ?'
Ess; me sat on her bed and we talked beautiful.'
'Did she talk to you about me ?' and the old man's
voice trembled as he put the question.
'Why, of tourse, granvavver. We talked of
movver's daddy every time me sat dere.'
What did she say about me ? Tell me quickly,'
as the child did not seem inclined to answer.
'Dat she loved you dearly-pounds and pounds
-didn't she, Miss Marfa?' appealing to her doll;
'and dat I was to tiss you adain and adain.'
What else, Jennifer?' and the hunger in his voice
to know more of what his Joyce had said was not
lost on the child.
'Lots of sings. Movver said she had been
naughty to you, and dat you must fordive her like
God did, and let her dear littlee love-dat's me, gwan-
papa-be your littlee blessing. Is I ?' and a strange,
unchildlike wistfulness stole into her lovely face.
'A greater blessing than you will ever know,' cried
the old man, his voice full of sob, and he felt as if he
should burst into a passion of tears if he tarried there
a moment longer; and telling Bran to take care of the
child, he stumbled up the carn.
Jennifer watched him until he was out of sight, and
then she gave her attention to Miss Martha, and to
the dog who lay at her feet, his great head between
his paws, enjoying the brilliant sunshine.
It was very still there in the heart of the downs, and
62 The Man of the Cams
the only sounds to be heard were the chirp of birds in
the bushes, the ravishing songs of the larks singing
in the great blue spaces above the silent carn, and the
soft wind whispering to the down flowers.
Suddenly there was a movement in the bushes
about a dozen yards from where she was sitting, which
caused Bran to utter an angry growl.
What's the matter, B'an ?' said the child, putting
her arms round the dog's big neck. He tried gently
to free himself from her clasp, and as he did so a dark
shadow fell across the plat of flowers, and she, look-
ing up, saw a dark, hairy man, dressed in clean but
coarse clothes, squatting on a bank of moss a few
feet in front of her and the dog, gazing at her with
bright, piercing eyes.
He was the Man of the Downs, seldom seen, but
often spoken of to strike terror into the hearts of
naughty children. His face we have already de-
scribed, and it looked even uglier in the white sunlight
than it did between the bramble bushes. He had a
short, square figure, immense breadth of chest and
shoulders, hardly any neck, brawny arms, crooked legs,
and club feet.
Jennifer, with her arms still round the dog's neck,
scanned his face for a moment, then a smile ran out
of the corners of her mouth.
'Why, 'tis Mr. Marfa!' she cried.
'You 'ent afraid of me, then ? And you remember
me ? We 'ave seen each other before, and I have heard
tell of you since from a lady who seed me 'pon the
downs, and what she told me about 'ee made me
want to see you again. But the chance didn't come
until this blessed minute.
The Man of the Carns
'I have been on the look-out to speak to 'ee this
longful time,' he went on, as the child did not speak;
'ever since the lady told me about the love you had
for your doll. I don't know what made her speak to
me, I'm sure, except that she has a liking for ugly
things like me!' and he laughed so strangely that
Bran sprang up, showed his teeth, and growled.
'Little maid, make that brute of a dog lie down.
He'll do what you tell him.'
Jennifer understood, and thumping the great dog
on the head, she said,-
'Lie down, B'an.'
The collie obeyed unwillingly, and growled louder
than ever as he stretched his length at the child's
little feet, keeping his eye the while on the stranger.
'I say, little maid,' said the Man of the Downs, after
watching the child a minute, 'tell me true if you love
that doll in your arms.'
The question was intelligible to her, which the
greater part of what he had said was not; and she
answered in her fascinating way,-
'Of tourse me does ;' and as if to convince him of
that fact, she pressed her flower-like little face to the
doll's and crooned, 'Me does love you dearly, dearly,
dear littlee Marfa.'
The man's face was a study as he saw that pretty
action, and heard her lisping words, so lovely in their
'The lady told no lie, then,' said he rapidly to him-
self, 'and now I can almost believe that God loves me
-poor old me-that He gave His own Son for love
of me-the poor, ugly Man of the Downs.'
The pathos in his voice was touching in the extreme.
66 The Man of the Cams
It was just like this here, little maid,' as Jennifer
peeped at him through her long, dark, curled lashes:
'the lady, who had a kind heart, spoke to me kindly,
as if I was beautiful likeyou, and told me about God.
Fancy anybody, much less a lady, talking to me
about Him, or talking to me at all;' and the wonder
of it made his eyes grow as soft as Jennifer's lovely
orbs, and humanized his poor ugly face. 'I answered
her rough at first,' he went on, half to himself and
half to the child, 'and told her I didn't believe aught
she said, that it was all a pack of nonsense, that
neither God nor man loved an unsightly chap like me,
when the mother who bore me couldn't stand the
sight of my ugly face, until I was forced to hide
myself among the crellases' and carns;' and one
thick, hairy finger pointed across the downs. 'And
yet she would have it that it was true,' he continued,
'and she took a little Book out of her pocket, and
read strange words: Can a woman forget her suck-
ing child, that she should not have compassion on the
son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I
not forget thee." And then, as I still stuck to my
text that God couldn't love anything so ugly as me,
she told me of a dear little child she had lately met,
and who loved a ugly doll-so ugly, she said, it was
astonishing that she could love it at all! But she
did, the lady said, and that her love for it, ugly as it
was, was so beautiful in its unselfishness that she could
not help telling me about it, because she was sure it
would help me, as it had helped her, to see more
plainly that God is love, that He loves us even when
we are so unworthy to be loved.
The Man of the Cams 67
'Didn't my old ears prick up like donkey's ears,'
cried the man, 'when she mentioned the name of
a little maid with an ugly doll. For I remembered
seeing such a little maid with a doll, not long ago,
with hair as pretty as furze-blossom, riding in a
carriage with an old gentleman over the downs. And
she hadn't said much more about that little child
afore I was sure and certain that you was the little
maid she spoke of,' his eyes growing soft and tender
again as he gazed at Jennifer. But I didn't tell her
I had seen your pretty face, and that you had looked
up at me and smiled, and lifted up your dolly for me
to see; but I hearkened to all the rest she had to say
with both my ears. I only listened with one before.
She told me a great deal more about God, and asked
me straight if a little child could love an old doll,
which had nothing at all to call forth the little maid's
love save that it was her very own, if I did not
believe that God loved me-His child-with a love
far greater, having given such a marvellous proof of
it in His only begotten Son. He could, she said, no
more help loving me, because He was, and is, love,
than the little child could her poor ugly doll.
'The lady gave me the little Book, and told me
that if I read it, it would tell me every word she had
said to me was true. When I took that Book, little
maid, I said to myself that before I opened its covers
I would see you and ask 'ee if you really and truly
loved that doll. For if you did, I told myself, it was
just possible that He who lives in the skies may
love the poor ugly Man of the Downs. Ah! little
maid,' his voice, which was full and musical, dropping
to a minor key, if you only knew how I 'ave panted
68 The Man of the Cams
to see 'ee and to ask 'ee that question. I have often
been out on the roadside looking out for 'ee, and I
never catched sight of 'ee until this morning on the
great hoss. I kept 'ee well in sight until the old
gentleman set 'ee down here.
'So you do love that doll?' he asked, after a
short pause, his eyes shining, as he gazed at little
Me does,' she cried.
'And do you think God loves me?' asked the man,
quite unconscious that he was asking so great a ques-
tion of a tiny child.
'Why, of tourse,' said Jennifer, opening her eyes
to their widest extent. God loves every ones, me
'Ah, then it must be true, and I have something to
make me happy in my lonely hut away in the downs.
Where do you live, little maid ?'
Wiff gwanpapa and Phillie and the bow-wows,
she returned gravely.
'That's a queer answer. Have you got a mother?'
'Where is she, little maid ?'
'Gone up the Steps wiff the white angels,' and the
child pointed to the blue heavens.
The man stared, and then a tender, pitying look
crept into his eyes.
'She is dead, I suppose you mean ?'
'What is dead ?' asked Jennifer.
The man was puzzled what to say, and put his
hairy hand through the hair that fringed his face in
Ah, cheeld, you've got me there I I don't know
The Man of the Cams
how to answer 'ee, I don't. Did your mother love
'Of tourse movver loved she's own littlee Jennifer,'
and she gave him another wondering glance.
'My mother didn't love me, and I was her own
little boy,' he said bitterly. ''Tis hard to believe
that God loves me when my own flesh and blood
shrank from the sight of my ugliness and drove me
into the downs. But you don't shrink from me, and
your first smile will stay with me like a blessing. It
was the first look of love I ever had Even the lady
shuddered when she first saw me, and I almost hated
her for it. Good-bye, little maid; I've a long way to
go, and Shanks's pony is a slow one.'
'Dood-bye, Mr. Marfa,' cried Jennifer.
'Why do you call me that, eh ?' cried the Man of
the Downs, pulling himself up by the help of a stout
staff that had lain beside him.
'Tause you is like Miss Marfa,' and she held up
Hee! hee! we are a pair of lovely creatures,
aren't we-related by ugliness?' and once more his
ironical, musical laugh rang out over the downs; and
then catching sight of Mr. Penwarden on the brow
of the carn, and dropping on to the heather, he
wriggled round the foot of the carn and dis-
Jennifer saw her grandfather coming, and gave him
a beaming smile.
'I haven't been gone long,' he said, sitting down
beside her. Don't you want your dinner ?' taking
some pasties, wrapped in a napkin, out of his pocket.
'Me and Miss Marfa is 'tarving.'
70 The Man of the Cams
He laughed and put a big pasty in her dimpled
'That is big enough for both of you.'
It was very amusing to watch Jennifer tackle her
pasty, and the old man chuckled to see her.
After they had dined, she and the old grandfather
wandered about the downs picking flowers, some-
times stopping to watch the butterflies flying over
the heather and sweet beds of thyme and clover, and
the little one would ever and anon lift her happy
face to the shimmering azure and listen to the sing-
ing larks and shout for very gladness. It was late
in the afternoon when they reached home, laden with
That evening, when Jennifer knelt as usual at her
grandfather's feet in her little nightgown, he was
surprised to hear another name added to her prayers
and coupled with her doll: 'God bless Mister Marfa.'
He did not know to whom she referred, but the Great
High Priest who lets down His censer to His little
child minister of prayer did.
As Mr. Penwarden and Jennifer were sitting at
dinner, three days after they had been to Roscolwyn,
the latter said,-
'Me go pick flowers again wiff gran'papa, and see.
'Grandpapa is busy to-day,' he answered. But I'll
take you down to Porthcurnow Cove the first day I
have leisure, and you shall pick up shells if you like.'
'I wonder who Mister Martha is!'-put in Phila-
delphia, helping the child to rice pudding. I have
often heard her talking to her doll about him. I
can't for the life of me tell who she means.'
The Man of the Carns
'Neither can I, Phillie, unless it is another Miss
Martha she left behind at Malta.'
'Your speaking of Miss Martha reminds me, sir,
to tell 'ee that I am verily ashamed to see that fright
of a doll in her arms. I wish you would buy her
another when you go to Penzance-a pretty doll with
golden hair like her own. I am sure she wouldn't
care for that old thing then,' pointing at poor Miss
Martha sitting by Jennifer's side.
'I will try and remember,' returned the old man.
'I am sure she deserves a nice doll.'
'I forgot to mention, sir, that I saw the two
strangers who were at church the first time you took
Miss Jennifer there, pass up the valley this morning
when I was down to garden getting gooseberries for
a pie. They stared up at the house as if they wanted
to come in.'
I wonder if they were the young gentleman and
lady whom Jennifer spoke to as we were coming
down the churchyard?' said the old gentleman.
'I expect they was, master. Thuse heard out at
Raftra that they are lodging at Porthgwarra. The
young gentleman has come there for his health, they
told him, and the young lady is his sister. Their
father is a doctoring man. (Pity but what he could
doctor his own son. I've often noticed that doctors
can't do much for their own relations.) I noticed
him in church, and thought he looked like a death's-
head on a mop-stick. The sister is pious, Thuse
was told, and talks to people about their souls. I
hope she doesn't forget that her brother has got a
soul, too. People are often more anxious about the
souls of other people's brothers and sisters than they
72 The Man of the Camns
are of their own. I wish you would call on them,
sir. They must feel terrible lonely away from their
home, which is in London, Thuse heard.'
'I am too old to make new friends,' returned Mr.
Penwarden, getting up from the dinner-table, 'and I
have no one to entertain them if they returned my
Miss Jennifer would help 'ee to do that, mister,
and nobody knows what good her little tongue might
do. Why, the very sight of her little face is enough
to make some folks better than they are.'
JENNIFER INTRODUCES HER GRANDFATHER
S ARRY, I do think you are looking wonder-
fully better,' said Edith Myers one morning,
as she and her brother sat at the window
of the small thatched cottage where they
were lodging, and which stood at the head of the
wild little valley of Porthgwarra.
I know it,' said the young barrister. 'Perhaps
little Jennifer Lefroy has been fulfilling her promise
of praying for me,' he-added with a laugh.
'" More things are wrought by prayer than this
world dreams of,"' said Edith quietly.
'Where shall we spend our morning?' she asked,
as her brother did not speak.
'I should like to go to Porthcurnow,' he answered,
looking out of the little window, from which could be
seen, not only a steep slope to the beach paved with
great stones, but a bit of the bay as well. Castle
Treryn looks awfully grand from that cove, and I
like to sit and watch the big waves rush up its sides.
The day is lovely Shall we go, sis ?'
'I should like to go very much, Harry, if you
think you are equal to the walk. It is a long way,
two miles or more from Porthgwarra.'
I am quite equal to it, Edith, and of carrying you
into the bargain,' cried the young man.
74 Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather
'In that case we will go,' said the girl, laughing
and getting up. 'We must take our lunch with us,
and I must see Mrs. Boase about it; 'and she left the
An hour later the brother and sister were on their
way. The weather was pleasantly warm, and the
walk round the cliffs from Porthgwarra to Porthcur-
now was delightful. The turf was soft and elastic
and brilliant with cliff blossoms, and the sea and sky
everything that could be desired; at least, Edith
thought so as she walked by her brother's side.
'I never weary of this wild spot,' she cried, as they
stood a few minutes on a cliff called Pol-ledan, some
little way from Porthgwarra, gazing down on the
smooth white sands, on which the waves were
coming in, in long stately rolls.
'Nor I,' responded Harry. 'It makes one glad to
be alive only to see such fine fellows as those,' point-
ing to the billows making long leaps on the sand.
'Truly,' said Edith, 'does the great woman poet
Nature comes sometimes
And says, I am ambassador for God !
She is His ambassador here,' she cried, glancing
around her, 'and proclaims Him God!'
'The little children are His ambassadors too, some-
times,' said the young man in a low voice. 'I never
see the morning dawn without thinking of little
Jennifer's words: "God makes the morning every
day, and doesn't you know nuffing?" She was
astounded at my ignorance.
'Come!' he cried, as the girl was about to say
Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather 75
something, 'we shall never reach Porthcurnow if we
'Harry, I don't think I ever told you that one day,
when I was pattering about one of the carns, I met a
Is that anything so very astonishing?' said her
They were drawing near as he spoke to Porth-
chapel Point, on which once stood the little chapel
or hermitage of St. Levan, after whom the parish
and the small church under the hill is named, which
is only a furlong away, and can be seen from the
cliff. There is nothing left of it now, but the
well from which the holy man drew his water is
still in existence, and is half-way down Porthchapel
cliff, its brink set about with boulders and over-
grown with reeds and rushes.
'Don't be silly, Harry! although I must own that
one may walk miles without seeing a living soul.
The poor man of whom I spoke was positively
hideous. I could never believe that a human being
could be half so ugly. I actually shivered when I
first saw him. I hope he did not notice it. On my
return I told Mrs. Boase, our landlady, about him,
and she told me it must have been the Wild Man of
the Downs. She has never seen him, she said, and
never wants to. She told me such a sad story about
him. His parents were very ignorant people, and as
wicked as they were ignorant, and from what I could
underconstumble, as you would put it, Harry, they
thought their offspring was a changeling or some-
thing worse, and they treated him as no child should
have been treated, and he was actually persecuted by
76 Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather
his relatives and neighbours, and most of all by his
own mother; so that when he reached early manhood
he was glad to escape from their cruelty to the
downs, to hide himself from the eyes of men. It
was such a sad, sad story, my heart ached for him,
as it did when I saw him, and I longed to bring joy
into his life. He had such an unsatisfied, longing
look in his eyes. He was not all ugly, his eyes were
so kind-looking. Come to think of it, Harry, he
reminds me of you.'
'Thank you, Edith,' said the young barrister,
making a low obeisance. 'You confirm what Mrs.
Boase said of me-that I was the wishtest young
man she had ever clapped eyes on !'
'I didn't mean your looks, Harry,' the girl hastened
to say, 'but the sad, wistful expression in your
eyes, as if you want something you haven't yet got,'
she said in a low voice, which was almost drowned in
the crash of the waves. I could not help telling the
poor Man of the Downs about His love, but I am
afraid I did more harm than good, and there was a
scowl on his face until I happened to mention dear
little Jennifer and her love for that poor old doll of
hers. You should have seen how his face changed
and lighted up when I spoke of her, and he listened
patiently to me after that. I have often thought of
him since. If I knew where he lived on the downs, I
would presume on your kindness, Harry, and ask
you to take me to see him. But nobody knows for
certain where he lives, and Mrs. Boase believes he
has his burrow under the ground, like the rabbits.
Poor fellow! he seemed to walk on all-fours, and he
scuttled away into the bushes like a rabbit.'
Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather 77
'You make me anxious to see him, Edith,' said the
young man, especially as he bears some resemblance
to me '
They were going down the cliff to peep into the
well as they spoke. They stood for a minute or so
looking into its clear, limpid water, and then they
went on to Porthcurnow Cove, where they had come
to spend the day.
The bay of Porthcurnow sweeps round to the great
promontory of Castle Treryn, or Treryn Dinas, and
may be seen from this beautiful cove in all its
grandeur as it rises dark and majestic out of the
fretting waves with its romantic crown of rocks and
rugged crags, amongst them the Logan Stone, ot
which all the world has heard, and many come from
afar to see.
The cliffs here are magnificent, and yet, high and
majestic as they are, their colouring is almost as soft
as wood-doves' wings. The bay is splendid, and the
glittering, shell-strewn sands are as many-hued as the
ever-changing water palpitating under the brooding
The sea to-day was particularly beautiful, and
'Burnt green, and blue, and white,'
and the great breakers were big enough even to
please Harry Myers, who rejoiced to see the 'white
water mountains, heaving with angry life,' thunder
down upon the sands.
After he and his sister had had their luncheon,
the former spread his rug on the warm sands, and
stretched himself upon it to watch the billows curl
and crash, and the latter seated herself beside him
78 Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather
on a camp-stool and took out a book, but it lay
unopened in her lap.
Neither of them cared to talk, the waves were too
full 'of the voice mysterious' to want to hear their own
voices, and they gave themselves up in silence to the
enjoyment of the seascape before them. They had
not spoken for an hour or more, and were suddenly
brought to a consciousness of themselves by a little
voice singing out,' Me does like it here, gwanpapa,'
and looking round they saw Jennifer standing close
to where the waves were breaking and her grand-
father beside her.
She soon spied them, and ran towards them.
'Me is so glad to see you again,' she cried, giving
Harry a hug, and me have got Miss Marfa.'
Where is she ?' he asked, returning the hug with
'Wrapped in dis shawl, Mr. Gentleman. You shall
see her in a minute,' and her tiny fingers bungled
over a pin.
'Shall I unpin the shawl, darling ?' asked Edith.
'No, sank you. Me must unpin my child my own
self. She is sore, poor littlee sing.'
'What ailment has poor Miss Marfa now ?' asked
Harry, prepared for any quaintness from her little
'No ailment, Mr. Gentleman,' said Jennifer. 'One
of gwanpapa's littlee bow-wows bit a big bite in her
neck. She was hurt awful, and me did cry big tears.'
'You have a tender little heart, I know, Jennifer,'
said the young man, putting his arm about the child
and looking at the perfect little face under the sun-
bonnet. You would rather have been hurt a hundred
Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather 79
times over, I am sure, than your doll. Has the big
bite been mended ? '
'Ess; Phillie sewed it up wiff a needle, and gwan-
papa whipped the dogs wiff a tane.'
'Which they richly deserved,' said Edith, 'and I
am glad he keeps a cane.'
'The tane isn't tept for the dogs,' said the child
honestly; 'it is for littlee maids who is naughty.'
Have you ever been naughty ?' asked Harry, see-
ing the little face look self-conscious.
Ess; and then me is sorry, and ask God to forgive
The pin at last yielded to the little fingers, and
Miss Martha was revealed to their pitying gaze. The
poor doll looked very much the worse, having been
mouthed by the dogs as Jennifer had told, and it
looked more fit for the dust-heap than for the arms
of a child.
'She does look seedy,' said Harry, in a sympa-
thetic voice. 'You will want another Miss Martha
soon, eh, Edith? '
If I judge the child rightly,' said the girl, I am
certain she would not take kindly to another doll.
She would be faithful to her old one.'
'Phillie fought the sea air would do my dolly
good,' lisped little Jennifer, 'and so me and gwanpapa
tame. Dere he's toming.'
Mr. Penwarden had not been to the cove for years,
and he was thinking of the time when he had brought
his daughter here, and he was so deep in thought of
her that for a while he forgot his granddaughter's
presence, and when he looked down he saw she had
left his side, and looking hurriedly around, saw her
80 Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather
talking to the strangers of whom Philadelphia had
spoken. He called to her, but the wind carried his
voice in an opposite direction, and he had no choice
but to fetch her.
When he was close, Jennifer caught hold of his
hand and cried, Dis is my gwanpapa, who did whip
The introduction was so comical that Harry
laughed, and the old gentleman looked confused;
but he lifted his wide-brimmed hat and bowed.
I hope you do not mind our talking to your little
granddaughter,' said Edith, as he was about to lead
the child away. 'We travelled with her from
Plymouth, and were quite charmed with her, weren't
we, Harry ?'
'We were, indeed,' he answered; 'and I cannot tell
you the pleasure it has given us to meet her again.
We had no idea she lived in this neighbourhood until
we saw her in church the other Sunday.'
'Then you were not quite strangers to my little
Jennifer ?' said the old man, looking at them atten-
tively for the first time. I remember now seeing
you at the station. Jennifer seems as much delighted
at meeting you as you are,' noticing her happy little
'Won't you sit down ?' said Edith, unfolding a
I shall be very pleased,' returned Mr. Penwarden,
taking the proffered seat with a courtly bow; and
when she had reseated herself on the rug, he sat on
the stool near her.
After his shyness had worn off, he found it quite a
pleasure to talk to these strangers.
Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather 81
Jennifer soon got tired of sitting still, and she and
Harry walked away hand in hand down the stretch
of sand, and were soon on their knees picking up
'Your brother does not look well,' remarked the
old gentleman as he watched them.
'Oh, but he is much better since w6 came to St.
Levan,' returned the girl. He was very weak and
had a dreadful cough before we left London. Please
God he will soon be quite strong again. It is such
a comfort to me that my brother has taken a fancy
to your grandchild,' she remarked after a pause. 'She
said something to him in the train which I think he
will not soon forget.'
The old man was charmed with Edith, and after
awhile, to his astonishment, he found himself talking
to her as if he had known her all his life. She
reminded him of Joyce, and somehow he could not
help telling her about his dear little granddaughter ;
and whilst they chatted so pleasantly, merry laughs
far down the shore from Harry and little Jennifer
were heard. The young man and the child were
picking up shells, and, to Edith's amusement, the
doll's limp hand was put to pick up shells too.
When it was time for Jennifer to go home, he
asked Harry and Edith to accompany him. 'I have
the mule-carriage,' he said, 'and we can take it in
turns to ride. Penwarden House is about a mile
and a half from here. If you will come and have tea
with us, my man shall drive you back to Porth-
The offer was too tempting, and they were soon
walking over the sands to where the carriage stood.
82 Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather
Miss Tresidder was aghast when she learned that
her master had brought the strangers to tea, on whom
she was so anxious a few days before he should
call. 'And we have nothing to set before them,' she
groaned, 'but a currant pie-and he isn't so good as
he ought to be-and a few stale biskies! Men
never think of nothing. They would look foolish as
an old sheep if they put their visitors to sit at a
table to nothing but tablecloth and chinay. Off with
your towser,1 Mary Jane, and help me to set a good
meal before the gentry. They shan't come to Pen-
warden without wishing to come again, if I can help
The Myers were delighted with the hospitality
shown them, and the quaint old house, and with
everything, in fact, including Philadelphia, whose face
beamed from under her best Jenny-quick cap as she
poured out the fragrant tea into the best tea dishes.'
The dogs were not allowed in the best parlour
this evening, much to their indignation. Philadelphia
expressed to her master, as soon as she heard they
had 'company,' the hope that he did not intend
having the beasts to tea this time, as it wasn't proper
for them to sit at the same table with their visitors;
and so the King Charlies were shut in the back
kitchen, which they resented by dismal howls. Mary
Jane had laid the table, and, forgetting that they
were not to come into the room, had set their chairs
and plates as usual, and the old housekeeper was too
intent in showing hospitality to notice what she had
done. But the dogs spoke for themselves, and tea was,
not more than half over when a chorus of whines was
I An apron.
Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather 83
heard outside the parlour and a series of scratches
on the oaken panels; and when one clever beast
banged his plump body against the door, it flew
open, and in rushed eight little spaniels and four
little pups, which had come into the world a day or
so after Jennifer came to Penwarden, followed by
Bran, looking very dignified indeed, his fine head
high in the air, as if determined not to show how
insulted he felt at being shut out. Six of the
Blenheims sprang at once into the empty seats, and
resting their little paws on the edge of the table,
looked pathetically at their tin plates and the visitors,
and the other two ran round the visitors' chairs and
snarled, and the pups tumbled over each other and
played all manner of puppy pranks with the dignified
Harry and his sister were astonished and amused,
especially at the animals on the chairs, but Edith
was somewhat afraid for her legs.
Mr. Penwarden, seeing how matters stood, put the
dogs that were troublesome and their puppies out of
the room, but Bran and the others were allowed to
remain, and he made a sort of apology to his guests
that the poor things were accustomed to have their
meals with him.
Everything went on quietly after that, and Harry
and his sister enjoyed their tea in spite of the soft,
watching eyes of the Blenheims.
Their host was very pressing in his quiet way, and
told them, as they were leaving, to come to Pen-
warden whenever they liked, and they would always
'And we shall avail ourselves of your kindness,'
84 Jennifer Introduces her Grandfather
Maister,' cried Philadelphia solemnly, when they
had gone, 'I wouldn't have the dogs in the parlour
at meal-times any more, if I was you. I was verily
ashamed to see how they showed their teeth to the
young lady when she didn't get up from the chair.
I don't think it is right to have a passel of dogs
sitting up to the table. What must the gentry have
thought of us-a set of heathens, I'll be bound! I
don't think dear Miss Joyce would like her little
maid to sit to table with dogs, sir.'
The old woman's words took effect, and although
he made no comment at the time, the next day he
gave orders that henceforth all the dogs except the
collie were to have their meals as well as their
tubbing in the back kitchen.
The Blenheims made much ado at first, but they
got used to it in time. Their master missed them
sorely, but he never permitted them to sit up at
table again, and, as time went on, they were not
often allowed in the house.
EDITH THANKS GOD
AY harvest came, and Mr. Penwarden and all
his men were busy as bees in the hayfields, and
Philadelphia declared she had not time to draw
breath from the minute she got up until she
went to bed again.
Whilst hay harvest was onward the Myers often
begged Jennifer for the day, and they came and took
her to their lodgings.
After the hay was carried, the old housekeeper
was constantly at her master to go to Penzance to
buy the new doll for the little maid. At last he was
prevailed upon to go, for even he was ashamed to
see 'Miss Martha' in his little granddaughter's arms.
Before he started, Edith drove over from Porthgwarra
again, for Jennifer to spend the day with them. Her
brother was not so well, she said, and 'wisht' (lonely)
too, and wanted the little one to cheer him.
The old grandfather consented gladly, for the child
was almost in tears because he would not take her
to Penzance. He was afraid the long drive there
and back would not be good for her in the hot sun.
Philadelphia was also glad for her to go, as she
wanted her out of the way when the new doll arrived,
and to have an opportunity to get rid of Miss Martha,
86 Edith Thanks God
as she was determined to do. So Jennifer was sent
off with a better grace than usual.
The Myers had hired a donkey-trap for the time
they were to remain at St. Levan, and Edith had
fetched her in it to-day.
When they reached Porthgwarra, they found that
Harry had gone out.
'I think, miss, you will find your brother on Tol-
Pedn,' said their landlady; 'I saw him go up the
cliff in that direction. If you are going up to him,
my man will carry little Miss Jennifer up the cliff.'
'Thank you,' said Edith. 'My brother must be
feeling better, to have gone out.'
A few minutes later Jennifer was being carried up
the steep cliff-side by a strong fisherman, followed
by the young lady. And when they had gained the
head of the cliff, they saw Harry sitting on one of
the crags on Tol-Pedn-Penwith, which forms the
western extremity of Mount's Bay.
They made for him at once, and the child made
her presence known by shrieks of delight. The
young man came to meet them, and his face lit up
at the little one's pleasure at seeing him.
'Why, where is lovely Miss Martha ?' he asked, not
seeing the doll in her arms as he took her from the
fisherman. 'You have not left her at home, surely ?'
'Me has. She has got a bad ache in her littlee
stumjacket, and Phillie thought it would be worser
if she tame wiff me.'
Poor Miss Martha, she is sorely afflicted, I am
afraid,' he said, laughing heartily; and his laugh
seemed to be taken up by a flock of gulls sailing in
the blue above their heads,
Edith Thanks God 87
'Peoples don't laugh when dey is sorry,' said
Jennifer in a rebuking little voice.
'Not generally, I allow, little maid. But you know
that sometimes people laugh when their hearts are
all ache, and perhaps would cry instead if they were
not ashamed of their tears.'
Edith glanced at her brother. His face was sober
enough now, and there was a sad, wistful expression
in his brown eyes.
'God can make aching hearts better, can't He,
Jennifer ?' she said softly to the child.
'Me movver said so,' she said. 'Me wants to
look down,' she cried, pointing to a great opening
in the ground not many yards from where they were
It was a fearful chasm called the Funnel, and
about seven feet in from the verge of the cliff. The
turf about the Funnel was as soft as a Turkey carpet,
and yellow and white with trefoil and clover, and
down the throat of the chasm were millions of sea
pinks and daisies.
'Shall I gratify the child ?' asked the young man.
Certainly not. The turf is very slippery, and you
might miss your footing and fall down that dreadful
place. Don't go any nearer to it, Harry.'
'You need not be afraid for me. I am as sure-
footed as an Alpine mule. What would you have
said, to have seen me yesterday gliding down those
cliffs there,' pointing to the cliffs stretching up boldly
above the Funnel, 'to the cavern under the chasm ?'
Harry!' exclaimed the horrified girl.
'I thought I should get a rise out of you. It was
grand beyond words down there, and almost worth the
Edith Thanks God
risk of a broken neck! You should have seen Tol-Pedn
from below,' enjoying his sister's consternation like a
schoolboy. 'I thought, as I glanced up the grand old
cliffs, that they were the old-world gods looking out of
their pillared, weather-beaten temples. How sublime
their faces looked as they gazed out on the ever-rest-
less, never-silent sea! and yet it seemed to me, as the
soft, golden glow of eventide began to fall on them,
that there were actually little laughs creeping out of
the corners of their huge, stern lips at the frantic
efforts of the billows-which were even then, as I
stood at the foot of the ladder, tumbling in towards
the shore-to reach them.'
'I shall never feel comfortable to leave you again,
Harry. No wonder you are so unwell to-day,' was all
his sister said then.
They passed the Funnel, and stood for a time on a
cliff where they could command a wonderful pile of
granite to their left, and of which Harry had just
spoken, built up of cubical masses of granite and
capped with a sort of chain. This great column goes
sheer to the shore below, and is generally known as
the Chair Ladder, the horizontal joints forming a sort
of steps, and the topping boulders a kind of rude seat
or chair, which was formerly called by the St. Levan-
ites Madgy Figgy's Chair!
Madgy Figgy was a witch, and lived once upon a
time at St. Levan, and did all her wicked incantations
as she sat in this celebrated chair !
The waves were flinging themselves against the
Chair Ladder as Edith and Harry looked down the
great cliffs, which, in spite of their grandeur and
great height, had a sort of tenderness about them.
Edith Thanks God
Their soft grey colouring toned down their rugged-
ness, and the black patches of short, the yellow,
orange and green lichens, made many of the cliffs
and rocks indeed beautiful to look at.
From where they were standing they could com-
mand the whole coast-line to Pordenack Point, whose
romantic 'head of rocks,' as its name implies, springs
out of the foam some three miles away, and beyond
that again the Longships, whose light from the tower
that crowns its summit can be seen from here stream-
ing across the dark sea when the sun has gone down.
Carn upon carn stands out in the waves all the way
along the coast as far as eye can reach; and not
ar from Tol-Pedn, Cam Mellyn-the yellow lichen-
covered carn-glowed in the morning sun and looked
like a bold knight in an armour of burnished gold.
At their feet the waves were leaping wildly and
making grand sweeps over a group of rocks-the
footstool of Tol-Pedn-with a terrific roar.
'I don't believe any place could be more wild and
beautiful at the same time than this,' said Edith; 'and
I am sure nobody who has not been privileged to see
it can have any idea how grand and lovely it is-so
far away from the world of man, and so quiet, save
for the roar of waves and the cry of birds, and the
air so clear that I can even see the distant Lizard.'
'If people only knew what healing there is in the
Cornish air, they would be flying to the Cornish land
like swallows,' cried Harry, laughing. I shall be a
good advertisement for old Bolerium when I go
Jennifer had been quietly watching some red-
legged choughs pruning their black feathers on the
Edith Thanks God
top of the Witch's Chair; but she wanted to 'feel her
feets,' as she expressed it, and they left the cliffs and
went up the hillside, green with heather and hoary
with boulders, and sat down where they could have a
good view of the sea and watch the child at the same
'I forgot to tell you, Harry, that I have seen the
Man of the Downs again,' said Edith, after a while.
'I drove to Boscawan-Un to see the Druidical
Circle yesterday, which, as I think you know, is
between here and Penzance.'
'Yes; I took advantage of your absence to de-
scend the cliffs to have a peep into the Tol-Pedn
'Harry,' broke in the girl earnestly, 'I want you
to promise that you will never do anything so fool-
hardy again. It is not right to risk your life.'
I will promise anything, if you will banish that
woe-begone expression on your face. But I assure
you that it is not at all dangerous,' he said lightly.
'What about the Man of the Downs ? '
Well, as I was driving home, he suddenly crawled
out of a furze croft and called to me. I stopped, of
course; but there was a sound of wheels behind us,
and he had only time to say that he had seen the
beautiful little child and the ugly doll, and that what
I had said to him about the love of God was con-
stantly in his mind, before the carriage was close to
us, and he disappeared as suddenly as he came. I
waited some little time, hoping to see him.'
'How did he know about Jennifer ?' asked the
brother, turning round to look at the child, who was
Edith Thanks God 91
picking off the yellow heads of the Anthyllis vulner-
aria, or common lady's-fingers, behind them, 'and
where could he have seen her ?'
'I have no idea. It is remarkable, as I did not
know where Jennifer lived, or that I should ever be
privileged to meet her again. I do not think that
the seed sown on the downs will have been sown in
vain,' said the girl softly.
Her brother said nothing, but she saw again a
wistful, earnest expression steal into his eyes which
told more eloquently than words that he was longing
to be satisfied with the Everlasting Love, whether he
acknowledged it or not.
Jennifer came round to them and poured her
flowers wastefully into Edith's lap, and then trotted
off again and called to her companions to come and
help her pick the pretty daisies, and they went. They
wandered about the moorland-like spot, but kept
close to the child, in case she should slip and roll
down the cliffs.
'" Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes,"
said Edith, plucking a golden hill blossom.
'That quotation from Aurora Leigh is quite
apropos here,' said Harry, smiling. 'I suppose you
think I ought to be one of the seeing ones, and take
off my shoes and worship? I say, little one,' taking
hold of the child, who was making vain attempts to
catch the azure-winged butterflies fluttering from
flower to flower, and which she had whispered to him
in confidence were dear little blue skies flying about,
Edith Thanks God
'tell me what the beautiful things here are saying to
She lifted a puzzled little face to his, and he added,
'Listen to the noise coming up from the sea, and tell
me what it is.'
She stood quite still for a minute and bent her
little white-bonnetted head, and then, raising her
great brown eyes to his, she said gravely, 'I sink it
is God speaking.'
'And what does He say?' he asked, deeply moved.
'Dat we must say our players,' was the quick,
'Edith,' he cried impulsively, turning to his sister,
'I will quote your favourite poet now.' Looking
down into Jennifer's lovely, uplifted little face, he
said, with an earnestness she never forgot,-
'" I own those infant eyes
Have set me praying;"'
and he strode away, leaving her thanking God in her
Edith took Jennifer back to Penwarden late in
the afternoon. Mr. Penwarden had returned from
Penzance, and had brought home a doll and enough
toys to stock a small shop. The toys were laid out
on his study table, but the doll was not to be seen,
and he was sitting awaiting his tiny granddaughter's
'And there is a lovely dolly, too,' whispered
Philadelphia, who had ushered the young lady into
the study, and pointing to the toy-laden table.
'Maister was getting that impatient he was going
to fetch Miss Jennifer himself when you came.'
Edith Thanks God 95
'Do you like the pretty toys, little maid ?' asked
the old man, lifting the child on his knees, that she
might see what he had brought her.
'Me does; oh, me does!' she cried, clapping her
hands. 'Tups and saucers, p'ates and all. Won't
Miss Marfa be joyful ? We s'all have tea-parties, and
you s'all come, gwandpapa, Harry, Edie, and Phillie
too. Oh, we s'all be happy !'
'Bless her!' ejaculated Mr. Penwarden.
'Listen to her little tongue!' cried Philadelphia.
And Edith smiled to see the old man and woman's
delight at the little child's pleasure.
Philadelphia was anxious to get Jennifer to bed
early that evening. She was tired, poor mite, and
quite willing to go. The flowers she brought home
were faded-' tired too,' she said, and would not sit up
in her hand!
The secret of the old housekeeper's anxiety to get
her charge to bed was out now, for there, sitting on a
chair by the bed-which, by the way, had steps for
small feet to climb up into it-was the fine new doll,
golden-haired, blue-eyed, with pink and white com-
plexion, dressed in a beautiful blue silk gown, which
in itself was enough to charm any small maiden.
But Jennifer only looked askance at the beautiful
stranger, and did not utter the cry of delight the
spinster had expected.
'It is a new Miss Martha,' she said impatiently
'Don't you like her, Miss Jennifer ?'
'Me not know. She f'ightens me,' was all the
child said ; but she never took her eyes from the doll
all the time she was being undressed and bathed.
'Do you like your new doll, sweetheart?' asked
96 Edilt Thanks God
her grandfather, when she had lisped her prayers at
'I want my own littlee child,' looking at Philadelphia,
who was waiting to lift her into her cot. 'I don't
want her,' pointing to the doll; take her away, p'ease.
Where is my Miss Marfa?'
You can't have her to-night,' cried the old woman
sharply. She was vexed, as well as disappointed, at
the very cool reception of the new doll. And then,
seeing a quiver of the pretty lips, she added more
gently, 'She is gone away for a change of air. The
lovely new dolly must do until she is well enough to
come back. It is good for our dear little maid to be
without her old doll for a while.'
Jennifer's eyes were swimming in tears as her
golden head pressed the pillow, and when Phila-
delphia left the room she sobbed as if her little heart
I don't like the look on our little dear's face,'
said the old woman when she went downstairs. I
wish I hadn't asked Thuse to throw her old doll
'You don't mean to tell me that you have done
away with Miss Martha?' cried the old man, his
voice full of anger.
'I'm sorry to say I have, sir. Thuse tells me he
tossed her over the cliff. I felt sure Miss Jennifer
would never want to see that ugly-faced thing again
when she got the new doll. I thought she would
love her tenfold more than that poor old thing, and I
still hope she will. She ought; for it must have cost
'ee a mint of money.'
But Jennifer did not 'take' to the new 'Miss
Edith Thanks God 97
Martha,' and her grandfather and the old woman
were concerned to see how sad her little face was the
next day. She would not look at her breakfast, and
could hardly be persuaded to eat any dinner. She
was as quiet as a little mouse, and it was evident to
them that she was grieving for her old doll. Thuse
was sent down to the bay to see if he could find it,
but although he searched 'every creek and corner,' he
said he could see nothing of it.
The three following days were very wet and windy,
and at every gust of wind the child would start and
cry out. She was anything but well, and her small
hands were as hot as a furnace, Philadelphia de-
clared; and oh, how she regretted having told
Methuselah to throw away the old doll until they
had seen how she received the new one!
The fourth day after the wax doll was brought
home the weather was brighter, and her grandfather,
to keep the child's thoughts from the other, took her
out with him to the fields. The grass was very wet
in one of the fields where he had to go to give direc-
tions to one of his men about some work, and he left
her at the gate in charge of Bran. As she was wait-
ing there, Thuse and another man came near the gate,
but they did not notice her.
They were talking of her and the doll, and the
former said, 'And to think I was such an would
donkey to pitch Miss Jennifer's doll over cliff. What
would the poor little dear say if she knew Miss
Martha was drowned! I would have bit my grey
would head off afore I would have done it, if I thought
the cheeld would have fretted about it.'
'Why, here is the little lady herself by the gate,'
Edith Thanks God
cried the man, catching sight of the child, who was
gazing up at them with wide-open eyes.
'My dear life! and she is as sharp as a niddle
(needle),' exclaimed Thuse. 'I do hope she didn't
hear what I said.'
But she had heard and understood too, for she
'What you frowed Miss Marfa over tiff for? Will
she be drowned ?'
'No, Miss Jennifer, no!' he cried hastily, fright-
ened by the look of distressing eagerness in her little
face. 'There, your grandpa is coming. Mind you
don't talk to him about Miss Martha or Phillie either.
If you do, she will never come back to 'ee, never no
'Me will find her, me will,' was all Jennifer said
as the men walked away.
The sky began to look gloomy, and a fog was
coming in from the sea, and Mr. Penwarden, fearing
it would do the child no good now to stay out, took
her back to the house and left her playing in his
study with her toys. The wax doll had been brought
down there, and Philadelphia, who came in to see
what she was doing, was delighted to see her whisper-
ing to it, and went back to her work with a happier
heart than she had had for several days. She was
busy cooking this morning, for her master had in-
vited the Myers to dine with him the next day, and
was thankful to find her so contented.
The little dear will soon be her own little self, now
she has taken to her new doll,' she told Mr. Pen-
warden at dinner. 'I en't sorry now we did away
with the old one.'