This
letter begins in Sarah's handwriting.
Peel, July 10, 1909
Sarah writes
To
read letter No. 1
Had a good laugh
over Miranda
Dear Everybody,
At last we are settled for a few days, in
the Isle of Man. We arrived here Wed. at
about the same time we left home two weeks before. After finishing my last letter to you we prepared
to disembark and there was a general leave taking of the passengers and we
betook ourselves to the custom house, then to the P. A. in Liverpool to mail
our letters and by an hour were on the little boat off for the island. Such a ride!
There was quite a gale on and we went through it like a shot. Although we did not get sea sick we are
hardly over the effects of it yet. Once
more on land we had to cross on to the other side. The train reminds me of the ones they have at
Harry S. Quine
continues:
Sarah got this far with her letter and
then turned it over to me to finish. She
left us on the train and if I don't do something to get us off we'll be there
yet. Well, we rode for over half an hour
on a toy railroad through a toy country with toy mountains
and toy farms, with quaint thatched houses and white-washed walls, until we got
to Peel, our destination. We got off and
looked about, but saw no one who knew us, so I did what is usually best in such
a situation--asked a police man. He gave
us our direction and we trooped off up a little hill. When we got to the top we stood at a triangle
of streets. While we were hesitating about which one to take a woman rushed out
of a house right in front of us and said "Here you are. I knew I'd know you when I saw
you." It was Aunt Harriet and we
had arrived.
We have been putting in a great deal of
time eating and sleeping and seeing the sights of this wonderful little land,
with its narrow streets, its stone houses, its marvelous castles of antiquity
that passes farther back than history itself -- into the stone age, in fact --
its fleet of fishing boats, the tourists from all parts of Great Britain, and
our own relatives, more and more of whom keep bobbing up for introduction as we
go along.
This morning we decided on a walk into the
country, -- Sarah, Bess and I -- so away we went, out Patrick St. along well
kept roads, smooth as pavement, between rows of green hedges and grass topped
stone walls, till we came to Glen Maye, a village with
a waterfall over which a lively brook tumbles on its way to the sea. When we got there and had seen the waterfall
which though pretty is only a pocket edition of the gorge, the girls went in
and paid tuppence each for a cup of tea, and then we
sauntered back. Our walk was about seven
miles long and we enjoyed every minute of it.
Father has come to be a regular Manxman again, The language and the geography all
come back to him. You ought to see him
and his brother John, a fisherman with a big red beard. Apart from the beard, they look as much alike
as twins. The sisters, with whom we are
staying, can't do enough for us. They
serve tea for us every time we look around, and they stuff us as full of Manx
herring kippers, potted herring, fried fresh mackerel and other sea foods as we
can be induced to become. All of us are
getting fat, even Sarah, and we are all as brown as Indians from the sun, wind
and sea air.
Early next week we will make a round of
the Island, visiting ancient
We plan to go to
Everything has gone very finely so far--no
seasickness and no accident. We only
hope that all the loved ones at home are getting along as happily and as well
as we. I also hope that little Harry is
well and is a good boy. Tell him father
wants him to be good. We certainly miss
the little fellow now, and every time we see a little one, we feel half guilty.
A very sad thing happened on the
This letter is intended to be for Gus and
The Quines