OUR HOLIDAY IN CORNWALL 65 



looking for the most part like relics and ruins of 

 a past age. The country between Lostwithiel and 

 St. Austell seems to be devoted to another industry, 

 that of white clay, and it appears to be flourishing. 

 We reached Marazion 1 in the gloaming, and there 

 we caught a glimpse of St. Michael's Mount stand- 

 ing out in solitary grandeur, a single light burning 

 on the summit, and so, wearied and hungry, we 

 soon reached our head-quarters at Penzance. 



Friday and Saturday, 2ist and 22nd, we devoted 

 to taking our bearings ; the heat was sultry here, 

 as it was everywhere in those days. The lovely 

 Morrab Garden, with its numerous tropical plants, 

 smelt and felt like a furnace of suffocating delights, 

 but what a charming place it is in moderate spring, 

 autumn, or winter weather. 



One of our drives took us through the little 

 village of Gulval, with its fine church ("the 

 prettiest in West Cornwall"), and churchyard 

 filled with flowering plants of great variety a 

 veritable garden in which it must be pleasant to 

 lay one's mortal remains when the troubles and 

 sorrows of life are over. Hereabouts is land 

 which gives the farmer three crops a year and the 

 landlord ^10 an acre. 



On Tuesday (25th) we visited St. Michael's 

 Mount, a mysterious, weird-looking rock, which, 

 as everybody knows, stands out from the main- 

 land at Marazion about a quarter of a mile. 



1 In pronouncing Marazion you must emphasize the penulti- 

 mate zi. 



