on the rocks
near the sea and work away with their sewing or knitting, and, I must
not forget to add, with their tongues also. Strange and startling are
the stories one may hear which have been handed down from one
generation to another concerning the smuggling days of long, long
ago--and yet not so long ago, for even at this time of day my mother
often narrates hair breadth escapes of smugglers which happened in
her girlhood. In this village I was born on the 9th of April 1874. In
visiting Kingsand from time to time, I have often stood and gazed at
the old house in which I was born--not that any recollections in
connection with it survive in my memory, for when I was only five
weeks old, my father, who was in the navy, received an appointment as
a gunnery instructor in the Royal Naval Reserve battery in the far
north.

Sometimes my mother indulges in a retrospect, and I love to hear her
tell of that May morning when, she bade 'farewell' to her loved ones
and dear old Kingsand, and how, wrapping me in a large shawl, she
proceeded to Cremyll, a distance of three miles, from whence we were
transported across the harbour to Plymouth in the ferry boat. Then
came the long and tedious journey to Maryport. Sweet mother! how
pathetic to me it all now seems.

We resided at Maryport two years, during which time my eldest sister
was born. Often would my mother carry me into the battery, and at the
sight of the large guns, and the queer looking helmets hanging on the
walls, my little smile would be converted into vehement crying. How
little I dreamed then of my familiarity with them in after years! But
I must not anticipate.

After completing our stay here, my parents returned to Kingsand, but
only for a brief period. It was at, this period that I met with my
first accident. Crawling away from the front door I made all possible
speed to a large tank of water close by. In looking upon it from an
elevated bank of ground, I overbalanced myself and fell headlong into
it. When rescued, my nose was bleeding profusely. It was a lesson to
me, for during the few subsequent weeks we remained in Kingsand I
remembered my 'dive,' and gave the tank a wide margin.

We soon removed to Millbrook, a large village situated a mile and a
half from Kingsand. In those days the quay at Millbrook was
picturesque with groups of watermen who gained an honest livelihood
by ferrying passengers to Devonport and back. But former things have
passed away; an