The Argosy — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

The Channel Islands. 51 Jersey railways. To our right-hand the sea lay stretched in calm, shimmering beauty. The exquisite colour and clearness of the water, most liquid blue, most transparent aquaemarine, with here and there long stripes of purple, drew wonderful adjectives and expressions from H., who had never seen it equalled. In truth it was very lovely. It was nearly low water and great boulders and flat rocks, and patches of sand were covered with their abundance of sea-weed. Beyond, ris- ing out of the water, were innumerable small rocks, jagged and pointed, their many shapes and sizes adding much to the beauty of the coast. Many of these are covered at high tide, and one realised the danger of boating here without a skilful pilot at the helm. The railway ran between us and the sea, and when the short train passed within a yard or two we rather hoped our steady-going horse would take fright and break into a mild gallop, behold we were disappointed. He merely pricked up his ears and shook his mane and went on more leisurely than ever. The road was diversified by wayside houses and small villages. The houses most of them bore names suggestive of an earthly paradise, very pleasing to the fancy and a lively imagination. Val Plaisant, Mon Désir, Mon Orgeuil, Mon Trésor, Mon Plaisir, Belle Vue, Beau Désert, Beau Rivage— with such names as these the inhabitants try to impress upon them- selves, and each other, and the world at large, that here reigns all that is beautiful and bright. Perhaps they do well. Contentment is the secret of happiness, and in these calm and placid abodes it appeared to be the keynote of life. Many of the names both of people and places are French, and their pronunciation having been partly angli- cised you only catch the proper twists and turns and shades of expres- sion after long familiarity. The result is reap perplexing, and seldom satisfactory. The villages were not infrequent. One was named Pontac, and immediately carried us away in the spirit to South Africa, and to a well-loved friend, who, once undertaking a commission to send home some rich and ripe Constantia, improved the occasion by despatching instead twenty dozen of Cape port—or Pontac—and Cape sherry, which no one would ever condescend to touch, or even to receive as a gift; it therefore remained, and remains, a white elephant. Another village was named Old Five Oaks, after five trees, pointed out by the driver with, it must be confessed, asomewhat shame- faced expression ; for they were about the size and substance of small firs. But trees are not the strong point of Jersey. They are diminu- tive, though often making up in beauty and eccentricity of form for deficiency in size. Here and there you come across a picturesque lane. The trees meet and arch overhead, and intertwine their branches so cunningly and regularly, with so much apparent method, that you might fancy they had been specially trained... The roads are for the most part bordered by hedges only, and thus these occasional lanes form a special and pleasant break in the marked features of the island. Gomichboo <S (E@) m