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Even then, however, there was no want of startling anomalies. Looe, East and West, which contained not half the population or half the wealth of the smallest of the hundred parishes of London, returned as many members as London.
"You did; you know you did, you rogue!" Mr. Pengelly took her amorous glance and turned to us. "It seems like a dream," he said, and went out with the kettle. The lady resumed her business-like air. "We sail for Looe next tide. It's queer now, your turning up like this." "Providential. I came o' purpose, though, to look ye up." "I might ha' been a limpet." "Eh?"
There are two Looes, East and West, and two rivers of the same name which meet above the bridge. East Looe belongs to the parish of St. Martin's, and West Looe to that of Talland; both were granted a corporation in the time of Elizabeth, and each, before the Reform Bill, returned two representatives to Parliament.
They learned the exercise of the great guns and of small arms; they wore a uniform consisting of blue coat and pantaloons, with scarlet facings and yellow wings and tassels, and a white waistcoat; and the ladies of Looe embroidered two flags for them, with an inscription on each 'Death or Victory' on the one on the other, 'We Choose the Latter. They meant it, too.
There is another well of St. Cuby at Duloe, north of Looe; and he was related to some of Cornwall's most notable saints. The Holy Well is a fresh-water spring on the north side of the beach; it is in a cave, accessible at low water, and is reached by a flight of rough steps. Its water was once supposed to be highly medicinal in fact, miraculous.
'The Pope and the Pilchards, says our Cornish toast; for it's the Friday fast that makes our only market." "You can see them on St. George's Island in Looe Harbor," Cleer put in quite innocently. "They're like a sea of silver there on St. George's Island."
Uncle Issy had ridden the last ten miles in the ambulance, and the print of a single-Glo'ster cheese adhered thereafter to the seat of his regimentals until the day when he handed them in and the East and West Looe Volunteer Artillery passed out of this transitory life to endure in memory.
After a pause, he said, "A Spanish-sounding one Rodriguez, I think. They were all full of it at the Ferry." "What! Old Ike Rodriguez? Why, he was down in these parts buying up guineas the other day!" exclaimed Mr. Rogers. "Was he?" "Why, hang it all, Whitmore," said a guest, "you know he was! More by token I pointed him out to you myself on Looe hill." "Was that the man?" "Of course it was.
"The fishing lugger Water Nymph, of Looe, was seven or eight miles east-south-east of the 'Eddystone, on the night of the 16th December, 1884, when a boy named Hoskings fell overheard, and was soon about eighty feet astern. The captain of the boat, Alfred Collins, immediately jumped in to the rescue, carrying the end of a rope with him; he was clothed in oilskins and sea-boots.
The garrison clock had struck eleven before, dog-tired as they were, they had reduced the two dormitories to conditions of cleanliness in which it was possible for self-respecting men to lie down and take their sleep. And so they laid themselves down and slept, in their dreams remembering Looe and their families and rooms that, albeit small, were cosy, and beds that smelt of lavender.
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