d now two sets of steamers, well adapted for shallow
water (for the landing-piers at Millbrook are governed by the ebb,
and flood tide), have almost entirely dispensed with passenger-boats,
and the trip from Millbrook to Devonport, or vice versa, costs the
modest sum of one penny. People on the town side of the harbour take
advantage of this, for on public holidays thousands of towns-people
may be seen wending their way through the main streets of Millbrook,
bound for the famous Whitsands, there to spend the day on the
seashore.

Never let anyone despise Millbrook, for, socially speaking, it may be
regarded as an adjunct of Devonport. There is an interchange of
passengers every day, and several hundred yardmen, who work in His
Majesty's naval dockyard, together with many naval men, leave
Millbrook every morning. Added to these, there are housewives, and
their name is legion, who cross the harbour on Saturdays for the
purpose of shopping, for they are cute enough to realise that their
steamer fare can be cleared on two pounds of sugar-that is to say,
the same article would cost a penny extra at home. In addition, then,
to the profits gained on other articles which they purchase--for
their baskets are of no mean size--the pleasant cruise across the
harbour costs practically nothing. As a result of this steamer
traffic, trade has dwindled considerably in Millbrook.

I speak of Millbrook as an adjunct of Devonport. Perhaps some will
object to this, as both places are located in separate counties, the
former in Cornwall, the latter in Devon; others, who may be somewhat
narrow in thought, may think this view of mine reduces Devonport in
the scale of townships. However, as the ties between the two places
are so strong that even water cannot separate them, I hope to be
forgiven if my estimation of the village as an adjunct be incorrect.

The village itself is a pleasant place and lovely to behold. Like a
nest built in the heart of a thick tree, so Millbrook lies within the
heart of a beautiful valley. It is bounded by the Maker Heights on
the right, and the high cliffs on the left and in the bend. Hard by
are Mount Edgcumbe Park, and the Hamoaze in full view. Enough: I will
say no more as to the description of it, lest my readers may think me
vain. But I cannot refrain from asking in this connection: Who would
not be proud of being a Millbrooker?

My conscious experience of life began in Millbrook. Well do I
remember the m