Traditions and Hearthside Stories of West Cornwall, Second SeriesBottrell, William
General
Traditions and Hearthside Stories of West Cornwall, Second Series
Bottrell, William
Cornwall (England : County) -- Social life and customs; Legends -- England -- Cornwall (County)
"Well now, good luck has directed me," said he, "for, hearing
there were tidy girls up this way, I started early this morning
and am come so far to seek one that might take care of my house
and little son, and a nicer maid than you one needn't wish to
find. Indeed you look as fresh as a rose in morning dew."
He then sat on the rock beside Grace and told her that he was
left a widower with one little boy, who had nobody but an old great-aunt
to look after him; there was little else to do but the dairy-work
after one cow, and a few poultry to take care of. "Come
along home with me, Grace," said he, rising and taking up her
bundle, "you can but try, and shall stay with me, if you don't
like it, till you hear of some other place that may suit 'e better."
Grace wondered how he came there, for she hadn't seen him
coming over the downs; and was surprised that he knew her
name. Yet she said nothing, because her mother had often told
her not to ask questions but to use her ears and eyes to learn.
The gentleman looked so handsome and spoke so kind, that,
without hesitation, she went on with him and related how her
parents had a large family, that her mother had taught her
dairy-work, to cook in a plain way, and to spin and knit. "You
will do, I'm sure," said he, "and if you had time to spare I
suppose you wouldn't mind helping me weed the garden or pick
fruit in the orchard."
"There's nothing I should like better," she replied, "for the[176]
work about one cow and a child can't be much."
He told her that his name was Robin, though most of his
acquaintance called him Bob o' the Carn, or Bobby Carn.
In such like talk they went on, down hill, towards the Low
Countries; and Grace, with her eyes fixed on her companion,
didn't notice their road, and that for some time they had been
walking through green lanes, hedged with trees; honey-suckles,
and such sweet flowers as she had never seen hung over head.
The gentleman remarking her surprise, said, "These trees and
flowers are nothing to what you will see, ere long, where I dwell;
but up in your high country no trees and but few flowers grow;
that's how you think these so wonderful."
Over a while they came in sight of a large house; "Oh, sir,
es that a king's palace?" demanded she, "and see, the trees
around it are higher than church towers!"
"No, my child, there's many such dwellings down this way,
and even larger ones, but no kings reside here," answered he.
Grace hadn't ceased wondering at the grand building when
they came to where four roads met, and kept straight on, still
going down hill, all amidst spreading trees which shaded the road
by the side of which were rills of clear water, that every here and
there sunk into the grass and re-appeared. Where streams crossed
their road Grace's companion lifted her over them that she
mightn't even wet her foot.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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