The Argosy — page 59: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

48 The Channel Islands. —except for the tourist itself (One feels that only the neuter gender is here possible.) We may well sing a requiem over the dead past. We escaped from the market, head and heart whole. The day was unusually fine, and fine days had of late been the exception. The afternoon could not be better employed than by making acquaintance with some portion of the island. There are two ways of seeing Jersey, as regards driving. Either by hiring a private carriage, or by taking a seat on one of the numerous ‘‘cars” that in three days manage to show you all that is worthy of note. This is obtaining a species of bird’s eye view of the island, and is a very different matter from exploring every inch on foot, and by long familiarity learning to love and to know the bays with their curves and crescents ; the sea that surges up and dashes against the rocks and headlands; the small valleys and ravines that are scat- tered about. For, after all, the Channel Isles are not to be easily known and appreciated like lands of high mountains, and vast precipices, and huge cataracts, and endless forests. These take the heart and mind by storm, and from the first moment establish an un- fading impression. The Channel Islands win their way into the affections by slower degrees. The cars are somewhat originally constructed. The places are all ‘‘ outsides,” for there is no interior; no shelter from the rain or refuge from the stormy blast. Thus fine weather is de rigueur. But their possessing no “inside” is a feature in their favour. You are perched at a considerable elevation, and thus command the country as you drive through it. The hedges are sometimes high, but you are yet higher than they. On the other hand, the trees being frequently low, you often find yourself on a level with, or commanding, the topmost branches. The only objects that sometimes have you at a disad- vantage are the cabbage-stalks. These extraordinary productions occasionally grow to the height of fifteen feet, and a six-foot cabbage- stalk is a common occurrence. They might be called the palm trees of Jersey, though certainly without possessing any beauty of their own. Imagine a long, yellowish stalk shooting out of the ground, with notches at intervals resembling the vertebrz of some huge extinct animal, and at the end—the cabbage. In this thrifty land the stalks become an article of commerce. They are manufactured into walking- sticks, and the shop windows display them in variety and abundance. If curiosities and mementoes should be ungainly, many of these stalks perfectly fulfil their destiny. One, twelve feet long, twelve inches in circumference, gorgeously mounted in silver, and. varnished to the hue of ebony was H.’s special ambition. He did his utmost to tempt the possessor to part with it, but in vain. ‘It is worth more to me, sir, than any sum you could give,” said the unflinching shopkeeper. ‘It brings me innumerable customers ; one thing leads to another ; and, in short, I attribute all my prosperity to the possession of that cabbage-stalk. My Lord Shuffleshoes was Gomichbooks