CHAPTER V.

GRANDFATHER'S TALES.

NOTWITHSTANDING Dorothy's efforts to be good-tempered and industrious, she did not always succeed. Sometimes she grieved her mother by her idleness and misbehaviour. The day after the delightful trip, described in our last chapter, was one of her bad times. Everything seemed to go wrong at school: her copy was smeared, her sums wouldn't come right, and after being kept in for some hours by the teacher as a punishment, she returned home in disgrace.

When she had been led to see and confess her fault, she said in a pitiful tone, "Oh, dear! How hard it is to be good. I mean to do better, but I often get tired of trying, and then I give it up. What shall I do?"

"Pray to God," replied her mother, "He will help you."

"Yes," added Captain Nance, "but you must set yourself to work to overcome your difficulty as well. You must both pray and strive. No one knows what they can do till they set about it with all their heart. Did you ever hear of Daniel Gumb, whom the Cornish people call the Mountain Philosopher?"

The children said that they had heard something about him, but begged their grandfather to tell them his history. This he proceeded to do.

[Illustration: GRANDFATHER'S TALES.]

"In the church-town of Lezant, during the early part of the last century, there lived a poor stone-cutter, of the name of Gumb. He was a married man, with a large family of children. The eldest, a boy, was named Daniel, who from a very early age showed great fondness for study; and though he followed his father's trade, he was delighted when the day's work was done, so that he might eagerly study such books as came within his reach. As he grew older, he directed his studies to mathematics and astronomy. When Daniel Gumb grew into man's estate, he married, and settled in a little cottage not far from his father; and now it was necessary for him to work diligently in order to maintain his wife. He was very industrious, only sometimes mapping stars on the granite which he was cutting, instead of hewing the big blocks into shape for building.

"He made but little progress in his studies, as his family cares increased, for he had several young ones to feed and clothe, thus he had no spare time to devote to working out problems. He began stone-cutting early in the morning, and did not leave off until late at night; but yet he earned barely enough to keep his wife and children in the same degree of comfort that his fellow-workmen kept their wives and children. One thought oppressed him, which may be stated in these words:

"'I am wasting my time and energies on stone-cutting, when I am desirous to learn. How can I alter this state of things, and make more leisure to pursue my studies?'

"At last he devised a plan. It cost money to maintain his present position, why should he not seek for some cave where he might live rent free, and have no taxes to pay?

"Not very far from Lezant stands Cheesewring, so called, it is supposed, because it resembles a cheese-press."

"Do you mean that it's small at the bottom and large at the top, like a wring they use when they make cider?" interrupted Dorothy.

"Yes, my dear. The rocks which form Cheesewring are seven in number, and stand one on the top the other. The lowest three are only six feet in diameter, while the upper four vary from ten to twelve feet; and they look so carelessly heaped up, that when I walked underneath them, I had a sort of fear lest the top boulders would fall and crush me."

"Please, before you go on, tell me what is the meaning of the word diameter," said Judith.

"The width of anything, right through its centre. You will better understand the shape of Cheesewring if you think of the enormous top-heavy toadstool we found in the fields a few mornings ago. It had a slender stalk, and such a large thick umbrella-shaped top, that we wondered how it was held up by what appeared a thread in proportion. I was quite a boy when I first saw Cheesewring, and I thought the great rocks at the top could be pushed over easily. But children, they've stood for hundreds of years; those heavy boulders, which look ready to fall, are so evenly balanced on the small ones below, that many sticks, nay, iron crowbars, and an army of men would be needed to turn over the tons and tons of stone."

"How came they to be so queerly put up?" asked Judith.

"Some say the old Druids had a hand in it, and that they used to worship them. I don't know how far this is true; but one thing is certain, Cornwall has no more remarkable objects than Cheesewring and the Hurlers, which lie near to the former. But to continue my story: Daniel Gumb decided that the hill on which Cheesewring stands, was the place where he was most likely to find his future home. Masses of granite were heaped up irregularly in every direction, and he felt sure he would soon be able to fix on a spot which would serve his purpose. At last he found several rocks which were clustered so close together as to form a rough kind of cavern, and this he determined to make fit for habitation. First, he widened the opening, then he enlarged the inside, and propped up an enormous slab, which formed the roof. When this was completed, he made a bedroom for himself out of a rock that was situated a little above; it was by no means a large room, in fact, only sufficiently spacious for him to squeeze his body into. On this rock he scratched the date of the year 1735.

"So soon as he had completed his work, he returned to Lezant to bring his wife and family to their new home. We have but little record of Mrs. Gumb, beyond knowing that she followed her husband's fortunes, and removed to the cave with her family, where she remained until her death.

"Daniel became a much happier man after this, for he had no longer to keep pace with his fellow-workmen. He only wanted just money enough to maintain his wife and children from actual want. The roughest clothes sufficed; the furniture might wear out and break, it would need no replacing; the landlord would not come for his rent, nor the tax-gatherer for his taxes; there were no glass windows to smash; there was nothing in this half-savage rough life which required him to devote every hour of the day to stone-cutting, in order to make money. He could shorten his hours of work, and lengthen his hours of study.

"Society fled from him. His former friends deemed him mad, and his relations avoided him. Strangers only visited the recluse and his family, in order to assure themselves that the story their landlady had told them about Daniel Gumb was no fiction. But what cared the mountain philosopher for the world's opinion, or his relations, or his friends. He could map out the stars, and solve difficult problems at will; he was his own master, and beyond the pale of society. Just try and realise the facts of this strange history for yourselves, my dears. Here was the love of study absorbing every other thought, and making a man throw up an honest position among his fellow-countrymen, in order to store his mind with knowledge."

"But it was not quite right," exclaimed Judith. "I think it was selfish of him to take his poor wife and children away from their home, and make them live in a cave."

Captain Nance looked up and smiled at his little granddaughter. "You've hit the right nail in that remark of yours, Judith," he said. "I agree with you; there is something very selfish in Daniel Gumb's conduct. Only picture his poor wife exposed to the storm and cold of winter, with her young children, and only granite blocks to screen them. I remember that when I was young I thought him quite a hero and martyr, but not now. I've lived beyond that. He would have fulfilled God's purpose in creating him, so far as I can judge, if he had conquered his longing for study, because he had dear ones who depended on him for support. He need not have given up all his learning, but he might have carried it on as recreation. I think he must have had many sad thoughts and many misgivings, when his children fell ill and had so few comforts around them. What availed his problems, or his star-mapping then? Could they furnish meat and drink for his sick and suffering little ones?"

"Did any of his children die in the cave?" asked Dorothy.

"Yes," replied the old man. "Some were born, and two died there. Don't mistake my meaning, children, when I speak thus. I honour Daniel Gumb in one sense; I condemn him in another."

"You said something about Hurlers," remarked Dorothy, "I can't think what they are, and yet I've a sort of remembrance you told us a story about them. Please tell it again."

"Dorothy, Dorothy, you're always after old traditions," said John Trevan. "Certainly that which relates to the Hurlers is as strange as any in our county. They are said to have been Cornish men who came out one Sunday, and amused themselves by hurling balls about, and because they broke God's day they were changed into pillars of stone."

"That tradition teaches us a good lesson," replied Captain Nance. "We all need to value our Sabbath privileges more than we do; but, alas, how many people there are in our world who are not thankful for the rest to the body and refreshment to the soul that the one day in seven brings."

"Very true," answered John Trevan, rising from his chair. "I must be off now, for my spare time is gone. I've just a few more words to say to Dorothy. You will not easily forget the sorrow you've brought on yourself, and all of us to-day, my darling, by your naughtiness; and now I am going to prove how entirely I forgive you, by taking my little girl and her sister to St. Michael's Mount to-morrow, if the sun shines. The day after to-morrow you can show you are in earnest about wishing to do better, by being very attentive at school."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, father, I will, indeed, I will try hard to have my lesson right the first time."

"Very well, I believe you. Now, children, you may come with me down to the boat if you like."

Dorothy and Judith gladly accompanied their father, and waited on the shore until he rowed out to the "Mary Ann," which was anchored in the bay. They left the sands then, and walked into New Street, where they watched him until the sails were set, and he was some distance off.

"Judith, how happy I am," said Dorothy, as they returned home; "I will pray to be good if you will help me."

"Yes, indeed I will, Dorothy," answered her sister, affectionately, "we will help one another, for I want help from you just as much as you want help from me; and we both need to be helped by our Father in Heaven."

Captain Nance had just lighted his pipe when his grandchildren entered the room.

"Grandfather," said Dorothy, "let us talk together; there is some time before we go to bed."

"What shall we talk about?" asked the old man.

"Anything you like. Or will you tell us of something that happened when you were a boy; or about any of your friends; or what is the very best of all, a grand story of a shipwreck, that you saw?"

"Then you can bear a sad one, for I'm not much inclined to make you laugh this evening. It's curious that I've been thinking while you have been away of that shipwreck which happened off the Brisons nine years ago. You can't understand, now, my little girls, how an old man lives in the past; young folks dream of the future, and build their castles; old folks build no castles, but turn over and over again in their mind the events which befell them long ago, perhaps in the prime of youth, or it may be in early manhood. Yet I'm wrong when I say old folks build no castles, for I dream of one; a beautiful and stately mansion which hath a sure foundation, its builder and maker is God. I am not afraid that it will crumble and decay, for—

"'I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day.'

"It's plain sailing, Dorothy, to that mansion. Yes, plain sailing so far as God has revealed His will to us in His holy word, and by the teaching of His Spirit. It's we who are to blame when we think we know better than our Almighty Friend, Father, and King."

Captain Nance continued to puff the smoke from his pipe, but he made no further remark, and some minutes elapsed before Dorothy ventured to say,—

"Please, grandfather, tell us about the shipwreck."

"Yes, that I will. I'm glad you brought me back again, for my thoughts were far away. When I was captain, I steered as directly as I could to the harbour I had to reach; and now I'm steering just as straight for Heaven; that's my point, the harbour of refuge in the land of Canaan. But I mustn't ramble from one thing to another, I'll try and keep to my subject and tell you about the shipwreck:—

"In the second week of January, 1851, business took me to your great-uncle Thomas at Sennen. On the following day he accompanied me to St. Just on the same business. Eleven years ago I could manage the journey to the Land's End without much difficulty, but now, as you know, I soon get weary, and when I bid farewell to my brother, I think sailing orders will come for him or for me before we meet again. You have seen Cape Cornwall from the Land's End, and know that it is only one mile from St. Just. To the left of the Cape lie the Great and Little Brisons, or Sisters: they are very dangerous rocks, some sixty or seventy feet high.

"It was on the morning of the 11th of January that brother Thomas and I went to St. Just; it had been blowing a strong sou'wester all night, and the waves dashed on to the shore mountains high. At daybreak a brig from Liverpool, which was bound to the Spanish Main, struck upon a reef of rocks between the Great and Little Brisons, and was dashed in pieces. The crew, which consisted of nine men, and one woman, succeeded in scrambling on to a ledge, where they would have probably been in safety had the tide been going out; but it was coming in, and every moment their position was more terrible. Ah! Children, we on land, and clear of danger, talk about being prepared; but face to face with eternity, words are tested, and we are proved as to whether our faith be firmly anchored in Christ.

"They stood huddled closely together, trembling and waiting, knowing the tide came nearer every moment, and that the first strong wave would cover them. It came only too soon, and ten living people were swept into deep water. Seven sank to rise no more, and three were brought to land. But how? First, I will tell you of the one whose life I had no hand in preserving, and then pass on to the two whom I helped to save. He was a mulatto, a dark skinned man, who was a good swimmer, and he managed to grasp a part of the floating wreck on which he scrambled, and by using a bit of canvas for a sail, and a plank as a paddle, kept himself floating on the water until he was rescued by fishermen from Sennen.

"Brother Thomas and I reached it just when the excitement was at its highest. The people were standing about in knots talking. We soon learned the reason.

"I at once said to my brother, 'I am off to the coast-guard station; it is an old tar's proper place.'

"By the aid of the glass I saw a man and woman, who turned out to be the master mariner and his wife, standing on the Little Brison. They had been washed on to this rock and managed to keep their footing, for they had crawled high enough to be out of the reach of the waves.

"'Can we save them?' 'Can a boat live in such a storm as this?' 'Who will venture out?' 'It's madness to try!' were some of the remarks we exchanged, as we stood with the crowd which gathered to watch the two figures on the Little Brison.

"We had just decided to man a boat, when we saw the 'Sylvia,' one of Her Majesty's cutters, ploughing her way round the Land's End. At last she lowered her boat, and made a desperate attempt to reach the husband and wife. Again, and again, and yet again, the brave fellows tried to near the Little Brison, but they failed, the sea was too tremendous for their efforts to be successful.

"Thus the afternoon closed, and as daylight faded, we saw the outline of the two forms standing motionless—for so they appeared to us—on the rock. It was a terrible picture. Brother Thomas had gone home. As soon as he had transacted his business, he came to me to ask what I intended to do.

"'I cannot leave this spot,' I answered.

"So I remained at the coast-guard station, for the men there were not strangers to me, and even if they had been, we were drawn together by a common sympathy. I should have been untrue to my sailor's colours had I returned without trying to help these poor creatures.

"'I am ready to go in the first boat that is sent off,' I said to the superintendent.

"I spent the hours of the night in prayer. I cried to my Lord to interpose and save them. My heart went out in supplication on their behalf. The Apostle Peter did not cry out more earnestly, 'Save, Lord, or I perish,' than I did for the lives of those two strangers.

"When daylight broke, I strained my eyes through the glass, and by degrees recognised the two forms; but no longer standing upright. They had cowered down, and but for an uplifted hand every now and then they gave no signs of life.

"'Help us to save them, Lord,' I cried, when I caught sight of them first. 'We cannot stem the fierceness of the storm; we cannot make the waves obey by saying, "Peace, be still!" but Thou canst be merciful to us all, and come and save.'

"The violence of the sea was gradually abating; and I thought it grew even quieter after my prayer. Directly it was sufficiently light for us to dare to venture, the superintendent of the station ordered a boat to be manned, and carrying several rockets with him, he was rowed out, accompanied by two other boats. I suppose you know that rockets are used to throw a line, and that they are generally sent off from the shore; but this was a peculiar case. I went in the second boat. We could not get within a hundred yards of the Little Brison, and from this point the first rocket was fired; it failed to reach the rock-bound prisoners. A second was fired with the same result, but the third brought the cord close to the man.

"We watched him breathlessly as he tied the cord round the woman's waist, but just as she plunged into the water, a terrific swell obliged us to look to ourselves. The line was secure, and in a few minutes the poor woman was drawn into the superintendent's boat. She still breathed, though only for a little while. Whilst in the boat, her spirit fled to another world. Yes, ere the second line was drawn in, which guided her husband to the boat in which I was, her sailing orders had come.

"It was a dreadful moment for all of us; it has left a deep mark behind. Come what will, that scene will never pass from my memory; but it will ever stand out vividly. Even now, as I talk, my pulse almost stands still, and I grow quite cold.

"We reached the shore with the living and the dead. The poor man was tended carefully, and gradually returned to consciousness and life; he mourned deeply for his wife; they had not been separated since their wedding day. She had borne the trials of a sailor's life, with her husband, and he felt so lonely without his dear one at his side to cheer him. For twenty years she had been his faithful partner."

"Did she love Jesus, grandfather?"

"Yes, Judith, she had served her Saviour from childhood; and what made the tie so strong between the husband and wife was that he owed his conversion, under God, to her. He told me that he was a scoffer when he married, but that her example had taught him to pray.

"The captain told us that as they stood in those terrible hours on the rock, she encouraged and comforted him by repeating these words many times:

"'Fear not, for I have redeemed thee; I have called thee by thy name; thou art Mine . . . I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour . . . Since thou wast precious in My sight, thou hast been honourable, and I have loved thee.'

"'These promises stand as fast now as when they were written,' she cried; 'He loves us as we stand here helpless and defenceless. Do not let us forget that, but believe that though He appears to hold out no hand to save, He does not leave us nor forsake us.'

"It was astonishing, he said, to see the calm manner in which she spoke. Both grew quiet and trustful at last, and seemed to hear a still small voice speaking out of the storm, and saying, 'Peace, be still!'

"I could have told him that I, too, had heard that voice when I was passing through deep waters; but it wasn't the right time for me to speak of my sorrows; it would have been selfish, children, to intrude them on him when he was smarting so bitterly under his own heavy cross."

Dorothy and Judith had listened to this story which was filled with so much sadness several times before: their grandfather had not told it to them so often as many others, for their mother was too pained to hear it; it seemed in her own mind to be connected with Willy; he might have been shipwrecked with no one near to save! But Mrs. Trevan had walked to Penzance directly after her husband left home, and now returned with a well-filled basket.

"What is the matter?" she asked, noticing the serious faces of the three.

"It's nothing of consequence, Philippa," answered Captain Nance. "I've been telling them something of the past, that's all, and I'm in a serious mood to-night, so I've been speaking of sad things. Let us forget them and hear what you've been doing; if I may judge from the number of parcels in your basket, you have been spending your money freely, and marketing for the week."

"You are right, father," answered Mrs. Trevan. "Tea, sugar, pepper, salt, and many other small articles were wanted. Come, children, and help me to put them away in their proper places."

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