Chatterbox, 1906 Part 24

This story would not be complete without Chapter III. This concerns the eel's parents, and it is not without a note of sadness. After living several years in the security of the nice warm mud at the bottom of our quiet streams, they suddenly become seized with the desire to make their way to the sea--a journey full of danger, and full of mystery, for since their ascent as tiny elvers, they have lived apart from the great world of the ocean, and all that it contains. Now they set out, and fishermen, knowing well the time of this journey, spread nets along the route into which thousands rush. Other fish prey on them, and as soon as they reach salt water their enemies increase a hundredfold. Only a remnant reach their destination, and then, after having laid their eggs, fall into a deep sleep from which there is no awakening.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Eel Traps.]

Surely this story is more wonderful than all the yarns of former days, be they ever so old. Truth _is_ stranger than fiction, and much more beautiful.

W. P. PYCRAFT, F.Z.S., A.L.S.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Cooking Lesson.]

MARY'S REWARD.

'Mary, we want to ask a favour.'

'And what is that, Miss May?'

'We want to learn how to cook. Mother said perhaps if we were very good, you would give us a lesson.'

So said little May, the youngest of the Trevor tribe of boys and girls, who were now at home for the holidays.

'Well, if the mistress is willing, _I_ am,' replied the good-natured cook. 'Do the young gentlemen want to learn, too?'

The two boys shook their heads. 'No, no,' cried Guy, the elder; 'too many cooks spoil the broth!'

Mary soon set the girls to work, with the utmost patience and good-humour, giving her lesson meanwhile. The boys, in spite of the laughing remarks which they occasionally made, were immensely interested; as for the girls, they threw themselves into their task with such a zest that Mary declared, in time, they would all make first-rate cooks.

'I don't believe any one but _you_, Mary, would have such patience,'

said Ellen, one of the maids, as she pa.s.sed through the kitchen.

'Oh, Mary will have her reward one day,' laughed Elsie; 'you see if she doesn't, Ellen.'

But little did Elsie think, as she said these words, of what Mary's reward would be.

No one looking into the cook's sunny face would dream that she had any sorrow hidden in her heart; but it was so. Her dearly loved and only brother had gone away to sea, many years before, and from that day to this Mary had never heard a word of him. But so unselfish was she, that she would not allow her trouble to shadow any one else around her.

In the afternoon the girls wended their way to the neat little cottage-home where dwelt Mrs. Jones and her children. She was the widow of a sailor, and so poor that but for Mrs. Trevor's kindness she would often have been in great straits. Her face looked quite bright as she welcomed her visitors, and showed them into the back room where she had been sitting at needlework.

'We have brought you some pastry of our own making,' said Elsie, 'and some other things besides.'

'Then it's very, very kind of you, Miss,' was the grateful reply. 'I am well off just now, for I have a lodger for a few days, who pays me wonderfully well. He is a sailor man--a captain, I believe--and he says he once knew my husband. The children are in with him now,' went on the woman; 'he has taken a wonderful fancy to them all.'

Then said little May, who did not know what bashfulness was, 'I wish I might go and see him, too. I should so like to know if he has ever seen the island where Robinson Crusoe was wrecked.'

A peal of laughter greeted May's remark, but nevertheless her request was granted.

Five minutes later she was chatting to the 'sailor man' as if she had known him all her life.

'What do you think we have been doing this morning?' said little May, after busily talking about a host of other things.

'I'm sure I don't know, little Missie,' replied the man.

'You would never guess, I am sure--we have been making pastry!'

'Pastry! have you, indeed?' said the pleasant-faced man, with a smile; 'well, now, that's a thing I could never make.'

'We couldn't have done it by ourselves; Mary helped us, you see,' said truthful May.

'And who is Mary, little Missie, if I may ask?'

'Mary is our cook,' replied the child; 'she is _so_ kind and good-natured. Her real name is Mary Greymore, and---- '

To May's surprise the sailor started to his feet.

'What!' cried he. 'Greymore, did you say?'

'Yes,' said May, looking startled. 'What's the matter, sailor man?'

'Nothing is the matter,' was the reply, given in a voice deep with feeling; 'only, if what you say is true, I have found the sister I have been looking for these many months past.'

Mary's joy at seeing her long-lost brother again was almost beyond words; as for the Trevor family, they were scarcely less excited than she.

It was found that James Greymore had been such a wanderer that none of his sister's letters had ever reached him, and, as Mary herself had long left her native village, the two had been quite out of touch with one another.

'It is all through that lesson in pastry-making,' said Kitty, 'that Mary found her brother. May, very likely, but for that, wouldn't have spoken of Mary at all.'

'Then I was right,' laughed Elsie. 'I said Mary would have her reward, and so she has, and well she deserves it, too.' M. I. H.

MARVELS OF MAN'S MAKING.

III--THE FIRST PUBLIC RAILWAY IN ENGLAND.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Stephenson's Portrait.]

In the middle of the eighteenth century, the Duke of Bridgewater, with the aid of a great engineer named James Brindley, had increased the prosperity of Manchester and Liverpool by constructing a ca.n.a.l to convey merchandise cheaply and easily between them. Enterprising people, seeing the great advantage of the ca.n.a.l, wished to follow this good example, and increase the means of carrying goods from one place to another, if not by ca.n.a.ls, by better roads than England possessed at the time.

In different parts of the country it had been found that horses could drag heavier loads if the wheels of the cart were allowed to run on rails made of wood or iron. The knowledge of this fact led certain men connected with the coal-mines of Darlington, in Durham, to propose the building of a tram-line between their town and that of Stockton-on-Tees.

But when Mr. Edward Pease, who was the leader in the enterprise, sought to collect money to bear the cost, not twenty people in Stockton would give him their support. The idea of making a metal road over twelve miles of country seemed only matter for laughter, and Mr. Pease was told that he ought not to expect sensible people to spend their money on such a scheme. So Mr. Pease did without the 'sensible people.'

Application for leave to lay the line was made to Parliament, but was refused, the princ.i.p.al opponent being the Duke of Cleveland, who said that the proposed line would go too near one of his fox-covers, and frighten the foxes away. The application, however, was renewed, and was reluctantly granted at last.

In the meantime a young man had called on Mr. Pease to offer his services, and the initial at the head of this article shows his portrait. The young man's name was George Stephenson. He had had some experience, he said, in the laying of railways, and Mr. Pease was so impressed with his honest manner that, in the end, he engaged him on the great undertaking.