Herself in rich silks and plumes; that she gave to her attendant in that
illness a wonderful box "all done off with, - well - this here plated
stuff, you know"; and that when the end was drawing near, the faint,
weak voice, with its broken English (at best so difficult to
understand), tried to make "Char-loet-tah" comprehend where she must
look for something hidden away which she wished her nurse to have in
recognition of her services. But alas! the hoarded treasure was not
found until months after the poor soul was gone, and then fell into the
very hands which the sad alien had most desired should not touch it.
The old adage about a sailor's right to have "a sweetheart in every
port" is still cited in these days of boasted advancement in culture,
religion, morals; and it is the same old world to-day as that which
lauded and bowed down to him whom it called "his Grace" (despite what we
consider his graceless actions); the same world, alas! ignoring the open
and evident fact when he steps aside from the narrow path of honor and
rectitude; while, should she swerve in the least, pouring out
mercilessly its harshest taunts, or overwhelming her with pitiless
scorn. This, because woman should hold an exalted position, and "be
above suspicion"? Then why do not the so-called "lords of creation", as
they might and ought, set an example of noble uprightness to "the weaker
vessel", guiding, guarding, upholding her through "the shards and thorns
of existence"?
The Spanish girl, left an orphan by the wars in which the dashing and
gallant English officer figured so proudly, fell to the care of two
aunts, who, belonging to that indolent, pleasure loving race of sunny
Spain, perhaps left the poor girl too much to her own devices, and thus
she may have been more easily beguiled.
"Look here, upon this picture, and on this": first, the gay little
senorita, holding daintily in her tapering fingers a cigarette, which
she occasionally raises to her "ripe red lips", afterwards languidly
following with her lustrous black eyes the blue wreaths of smoke as
they float above her head and vanish in the air; next, the withered
crone, with silver hair, wrinkled skin, and no trace of her early
beauty, sitting in the chimney corner, and still smoking, though now it
is a clay pipe, - to the amazement and disgust of the villagers. Yet
we, believing in the only correct interpretation of noblesse oblige,
and that he only is truly noble who acts nobly, have only pity for the
poor soul who here laid down life's weary burden twenty-two years ago at
the age of seventy-two, and scorn for him who rests in an honored grave,
and is idealized among the world's heroes.
How amusing it is to hear the people speak of us invariably as
"Americans", as if we were from some far-away and foreign country, and
to hear them talk of England as "home"!
The hearty cordiality, natural manner, and pleasantly unworldly ways of
the people are most refreshing; in "a world of hollow shams", to find
persons who are so genuine is delightful; and thus another charm is
added to give greater zest to our enjoyment.
One, half in jest, asks a Halifax gentleman how they would like to be
annexed to the United States, and is quite surprised at his ready and
earnest reply: "Annexed? Oh, yes, we'd be glad to be;... we wouldn't
come with empty hands; we have what you want, - fisheries, lumber,
minerals; we'd not come as paupers and mendicants.... It will come,
though it may not be in our day.... The United States would not wish to
purchase, - she has done enough of that: we would have to come of our
own free will; and we would, too!"
Then there is the elderly Scotch gentleman, who appropriately hails from
the place with the outlandish name of Musquodoboit. He tells us that
during the "airly pairt" of his residence in America he visited in the
States, and that he has seen "fower Preesidents" inaugurated.
Of his first attendance at such a ceremony he says: "An' whan I see thet
mon, in hes plain blek coat, coomin' out amang all o' thim people, an'
all the deegnetirries in their blek coats tu, an' not a uniforrum amoong
thim, I said, 'This is the coontry fur me,' - it suited my taste. An' how
deeferint it wud be in Yerrup, where there wud be tin thausind mooskits
aboot, to kep 'im from bein' shot."
On our way here we were told: "Oh, you'll find Annapolis hot!" It might
perhaps seem so to a Newfoundlander; but to us the climate is a daily
source of remark, of wonder and delight. It is balmy, yet bracing; and
though there may be times when at midday it is decidedly warm, - as
summer should be, - the nights are always cool, and we live in flannel
costumes and luxuriate.
Warner speaks of "these northeastern lands which the Gulf Stream pets
and tempers"; yet he passed through this dear old town without stopping,
remarking only that he could not be content for a week here, and felt no
interest in the place apart from its historic associations. Let him stop
next time and investigate. We flatter ourselves that we could enlighten
him somewhat.
Our friends at various shore and mountain resorts report constant fogs;
yet we can testify that in nearly seven weeks' residence here there were
but two mornings which were foggy, and on those days the gray screen was
rolled away at noon.
"aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended"
