84 OUR HOLIDAY IN CORNWALL 



another coming up your way or down your way it 

 is not easy to imagine what would happen. We 

 were lucky in having one or two narrow escapes. 

 After many a turn and many a twist we got 

 through Newlyn at last, and soon came upon the 

 village of Mousehole Newlyn and Mousehole are 

 the head-quarters of the celebrated pilchard and 

 mackerel fisheries, where some two thousand fisher- 

 men are occupied in the business. It was in 

 Newlyn that I first heard a strange language, 

 which sounded to me like Welsh, but I was assured 

 that the people were really talking good broad 

 English. I can only say that not a word of it 

 was understandable by me. There used to be a 

 language called Cornish, but the last person who 

 spoke it was an old woman named Dolly Pentreath, 

 who died at the age of one hundred and two in 

 the year 1775. There is a granite obelisk to her 

 memory in the churchyard of Paul, and on it is 

 mentioned the fact that she was the last who could 

 speak that now dead language. A specimen of it is 

 given on the tombstone, which I quote as follows 



" Gwra perthi, de taz ha de mam ; mal de Dythiow belhewz hyr 

 war an tyr nel an arleth de dew ryes dees." 

 (This is the fifth Commandment, " Honour thy father," etc.) 



Zawn-Pyg Cave^ Land's End. This beautiful 

 picture shows the cavern referred to in the previous 

 article ; the prominent square block of granite 

 on the right of the opening is one on which one 

 has to hang over in order to see daylight through 

 the cavern from sea to sea. 



