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Elizabeth granted monopolies on the perfectly madern pretence that a monopoly, be it made by law or by tariff, is for the benefit of the public good, though at the same time possibly a private profit to certain individuals, friends of the sovereign.
But some liked the crick-stone better for lil baabies than even the Madern brook." "Men-an-tol that stone is called?" "So 'tis, awnly us knaws it as the crick-stone. Theer's a big hole in en, an' if a cheel was passed through nine times runnin', gwaine 'gainst the way of the sun every time, it made en as strong as a lion.
An' bring Mister Jan back long very quick, 'cause I'm nothin' but sadness wi'out en. An', dear St. Madern, I ax 'e to bless me same as you done when when I was a lil baaby, 'cause I be gwaine to bathe in your brook, bein' a St. Madern cheel. Oh, dear, good God o' all things, please to help me an' look to me, 'cause I be very sad, an' I never done no harm to none, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen."
An' He holds it yet, now 'tis shriveled an' crooked wi' rheumatics. He holds it. Iss, He do." The old man put out his hand to Joan as he spoke and she took it between her own and kissed it. "You'm very good," she said, "an' you'm wise 'cause you'm auld an' have seen many years. I prayed to Saint Madern to hear me not long since, an' I bathed in his waters, an' went home happy.
An' 'tis good for grawn people tu, awnly folks is afeared to try now 'cause t'others laugh at en. But I reckon the Madern brook's holy water still. An' theer's wonnerful things said 'bout the crick-stones an' long stones tu. A many of 'em stands round 'bout these paarts." "D'you know Men Scryfa the stone with the writing on it? That's a famous long stone, up beyond Lanyon Farmhouse."
"Ah, the saint of the well?" "Iss, an' the brook as runs by the Madern chapel." "I sketched the little ruin of the baptistery some time ago." "'Twas tho't a deal of wance, an' the holy water theer was reckoned better for childern than any doctor's traade as ever was.
Men Scryfa marks the memory of a good Briton one who knew King Arthur, very likely. I love the old stones too. You are right to love them. They are landmarks in time, books from which we may read something of a far, fascinating past." "Iss, but I ded'n tell 'e all 'bout the Madern waters.
My mother weer a Madern cheel; an' 'er ordained I should be as well, an' when faither was to sea, as fell out just 'pon the right day, mother took me up theer. That was my awn mother as is dead. More folks b'lieved in the spring then than what do now, 'cause that was sebenteen year agone. An' from bein' a puny cheel I grawed a bonny wan arter dipping.
"Wan's bad an' a sign o' sorrer; but if you spits twice over your left shoulder it doan't matter so much. But I be better off than many maidens, 'cause I be saint-protected like." "That's interesting, Joan." "Faither'd be mad if I let on 'bout it to him, so I doesn't. He doan't b'lieve much in dead saints, though Carnwall's full of 'em. Have 'e heard tell 'bout Saint Madern?"
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