News from the Duchy | Page 5

wi' the
schoolchildren an' infants--had packed themselves into this rear
compartment separate from the others. One of 'em had brought his
concertina, an' another his flute, and what with these an' other ways of
passin' the time they got along pretty comfortable till they came to
Gwinear Road: an' there for some reason they were held up an' had to
show their tickets. Anyways, the staff at Gwinear Road went along the
train collectin' the halves o' their return tickets. 'What's the name o' this
station?' asks my blind friend, very mild an' polite. 'Gwinear Road,'
answers the porter;' Penzance next stop.' Somehow this gave him the
notion that they were nearly arrived, an' so, you see, when the train
slowed down a few minutes later an' came to a stop, he took the porter
at his word, an' stepped out. Simple, wasn't it? But in my experience
the curiousest things in life are the simplest of all, once you come to
inquire into 'em."
"What I don't understand," said I, "is how the train came to stop just
there."
Mr. Tucker gazed at me rather in sorrow than in anger. "I thought," said
he, "'twas agreed I should tell the story in my own way. Well, as I was
saying, we got those poor fellas there, all as naked as Adam, an' we was
helpin' them all we could--some of us wringin' out their underlinen an'

spreading it to dry, others collectin' their hats, an' tryin' which fitted
which, an' others even dredgin' the pool for their handbags an'
spectacles an' other small articles, an' in the middle of it someone
started to laugh. You'll scarce believe it, but up to that moment there
hadn't been so much as a smile to hand round; an' to this day I don't
know the man's name that started it--for all I can tell you, I did it
myself. But this I do know, that it set off the whole gang like a
motor-engine. There was a sort of 'click,' an' the next moment--
"Laugh? I never heard men laugh like it in my born days. Sort of recoil,
I s'pose it must ha' been, after the shock. Laugh? There was men
staggerin' drunk with it and there was men rollin' on the turf with it; an'
there was men cryin' with it, holdin' on to a stitch in their sides an'
beseechin' everyone also to hold hard. The blind men took a bit longer
to get going; but by gosh, sir! once started they laughed to do your
heart good. O Lord, O Lord! I wish you could ha' see that
mild-mannered spokesman. Somebody had fished out his spectacles for
en, and that was all the clothing he stood in--that, an' a grin. He fairly
beamed; an' the more he beamed the more we rocked, callin' on en to
take pity an' stop it.
"Soon as I could catch a bit o' breath, 'Land's End next stop!' gasped I.
'O, but this is the Land's End! This is what the Land's End oughter been
all the time, an' never was yet. O, for the Lord's sake,' says I, 'stop
beamin', and pick up your concertina an' pitch us a tune!'
"Well, he did too. He played us 'Home, sweet home' first of all-- 'mid
pleasure an' palaces--an' the rest o' the young men sat around en an'
started clappin' their hands to the tune; an' then some fool slipped an
arm round my waist. I'm only thankful he didn't kiss me. Didn't think of
it, perhaps; couldn't ha' been that he wasn't capable. It must ha' been
just then your train came along. An' about twenty minutes later, when
we was gettin' our friends back into their outfits, we heard the
search-engine about half a mile below, whistlin' an' feelin' its way up
very cautious towards us.
"They was sun-dried an' jolly as sandhoppers--all their eight of 'em--as
we helped 'em on board an' wished 'em ta-ta! The search-party couldn'

understand at all what had happened--in so short a time, too--to make
us so cordial; an' somehow we didn' explain--neither we nor the blind
men. I reckon the whole business had been so loonatic we felt it kind of
holy. But the pore fellas kept wavin' back to us as they went out o' sight
around the curve, an' maybe for a mile beyond. I never heard," Mr.
Tucker wound up meditatively, "if they ever reached the Land's End. I
wonder?"
"But, excuse me once more," said I. "How came the train to stop as it
did?"
"To be sure. I said just now that the curiousest things in life were,
gen'rally speakin', the simplest. One o' the schoolchildren in the fore
part of the train--a small nipper of nine--had put his head