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Updated: June 10, 2025
He sits, and smokes, and giggles, and sometimes he makes small jests; but his contributions to the art of pleasing are generally confined to looking like a gentleman and being one. No," added Stennis, "he'll never suit you, Dodd; you like more head on your liquor. You'll find him as dull as ditchwater." "Has he big blonde side-whiskers like tusks?" I asked, mindful of the photograph of Goddedaal.
I will give two more instances of their superstition. When Sir Walter Scott visited the Stones of Stennis, my grandfather put in his pocket a hundred-foot line, which he unfortunately lost.
"Do let me ask you to share my bottle. They call it Chambertin, which it isn't; but it's fairly palatable, and there's nothing in this house that a man can drink at all." I accepted; anything would do that paved the way to better knowledge. "Your name is Madden, I think," said I. "My old friend Stennis told me about you when I came."
The party was completed by John Myner, the Englishman; by the brothers Stennis, Stennis-aine and Stennis-frere, as they used to figure on their accounts at Barbizon a pair of hare-brained Scots; and by the inevitable Jim, as white as a sheet and bedewed with the sweat of anxiety. I suppose I was little better myself when I unveiled the Genius of Muskegon.
No one could have been insensible to the mournful, brooding light and the unearthly stillness, and Margaret was trembling with a supernatural terror as she stood amid the solemn circle of gray stones and looked over the lake of Stennis and the low, brown hills of Harray. From behind one of these gigantic pillars Ronald came toward her Ronald, and yet not Ronald.
"She says," said Ruth, checkmated in an attempt to use any name she could call her real mother by, without some self-blame for the utterance, "she says the story is one-half true, but 'twas her best friend died of the bite not she! But she died in great suffering." "Ah the poor thing! Mary Ann Stennis." "That was the name." "Will she be able to tell more? Will she tell us who her husband was?"
'Some years afterwards, he writes, 'one of my assistants on a visit to the Stones of Stennis took shelter from a storm in a cottage close by the lake; and seeing a box-measuring-line in the bole or sole of the cottage window, he asked the woman where she got this well-known professional appendage.
If any sailor could keep his boat above water in them, she knew Geordie could; and if not she durst follow that thought no further, but, putting her hands before her face, stood praying, while the two men pulled silently away in the little skiff that had brought them up the outlet connecting the lake of Stennis with the sea.
Some other superstitious practices of a closely allied nature may be traced to the same source. In the Orkney Islands, not far from the famous Standing Stones of Stennis, there is a single monolith with a large hole through it, which has become celebrated, owing to the allusion to it of Sir Walter Scott in his novel of the Pirate.
I was the more pleased to find one of my old companions in the dining-room; his town clothes marked him for a man in the act of departure; and indeed his portmanteau lay beside him on the floor. "Why, Stennis," I cried, "you're the last man I expected to find here." "You won't find me here long," he replied. "King Pandion he is dead; all his friends are lapped in lead.
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