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Updated: September 8, 2025
Cairnhope is a forked mountain, with a bosom of purple heather and a craggy head. Between its forks stood, at the period of my story, a great curiosity; which merits description on its own account, and also as the scene of curious incidents to come. It was a deserted church.
My gentle giant would say 'Sir' till I pretended to be affronted; the women and girls will bob me courtesies, and the men and white headed boys will take off their hats and pull their front hair to me. If a skilled workman wants to burst with vanity, let him settle in Cairnhope." "Martha Dence and I have had words, and what do you think it was about? I happened to let out my opinion of Mr. Raby.
Her quick ear caught that too, and her gentle bosom yearned. What, had she frightened him? He opened the door, and she rose to receive him all smiles. "You are rather late, dear," she said; "but all the better. It has given me an excuse for reading your dear letters all over again; and I have a thousand questions to ask you about Cairnhope. But sit down first, and have your supper."
They reached Cairnhope, put up at the village inn, and soon extracted some particulars about the church. They went up to it, and examined it, and Grotait gave Parkin a leg up, to peer through the window. In this position they were nailed by old George. "What be you at?" "What is that to you?" said Grotait. "It is plenty. You mustn't come trespassing here. Squire won't have it."
But, on the third day, the pupil combined theory with practice. He told his mother he was going to Cairnhope for the night. He then rode off to Cairnhope Church. He had two large saddle-bags, containing provisions, and tools of all sorts. He got safe across the moor just before sunset. He entered the church, led the horse in with him, and put him into the Squire's pew.
"What, cured already? Cairnhope forever!" He then proceeded to feel his pulse instead of Miss Carden's, and inspect his eye, at which Grace Carden stared. "What, is he unwell?" "Why, a man does not get blown up with gunpowder without some little disturbance of the system." "Blown up with gunpowder! What DO you mean?" "What, have you not heard about it? Don't you read the newspapers?" "No; never."
My own sweet dove of a mammy; who but a beast could hurt or affront you? "So no more letters from your dutiful and affectionate son, "Harry." Next day young Little took leave of his friends in Cairnhope, with a promise to come over some Sunday, and see them all.
But they sent me to the top of Cairnhope Peak, and, what with the keen air and the glorious view, I came home and ate like a hog. That pleased Martha Dence, and she kept putting me slices off her own plate, till I had to cry quarter. As soon as I have addressed this letter, I'm off to bed, for it is all I can do not to fall asleep sitting. "I am safe to be all right to-morrow, so pray don't fret.
I'm Martha Dence at your service: and this is Cairnhope town." "Cairnhope!" cried Henry, and started back, so that his wooden chair made a loud creak upon the stones of the farmer's kitchen. Martha Dence stared, but said nothing; for almost at that moment the doctor returned, all in a hurry, for the letter. Henry begged him to look at it, and see if it would do. The doctor read it.
"But the air of Cairnhope has not made you friends with the unions." She seemed to reflect a moment, then asked him at what time he had left Cairnhope. "Eleven o'clock." "Ah! And whom did you visit before you came to me?" "You question me like a child, mother." "Forgive me, dear. I will answer my own question. You called on some one who gave you bad advice." "Oh, did I?" "On some woman."
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