--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Anderson, Nephi collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 11 number: 5 published: 1908-03 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Nephi Anderson, "Romance of a Missionary—V. The Green Lanes of England," *Improvement Era* 11, no. 5 (March 1908): 342–352.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1105unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1105unse start_page: 342 end_page: 352 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1908-03) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1105unse publication_year: 1908 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1908, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Romance of a Missionary—V. The Green Lanes of England ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. >> iir BY NEPHI ANDERSON, AUTHOR OF ADDED UPON," THE CASTLE BUILDER," ETC. V. THE GREEN LANES OF ENGLAND. England is one great, beautiful garden, with a goodly number of big, black, ugly spots in it. The spots are the towns, begrimed with the dirt and smoke of mines, mills, and traffic. As the parks in the cities are beauty spots in a wilderness of ugliness, so the towns, as a rule, are unsightly blotches on the pleasant face of the land. In England, one may understand the aptness of the saying that, "God made the country and man made the town." All this is especially true of northern and middle England, in the region, of the mines and mills. A large number of English people seldom enjoy the beautiful country they live in. To the workers in the big cities, life is a daily grind, amid a world of blackened brick and stone; and so it is no wonder that these workers, whenever opportunity affords, get away from the towns and make excursions into the country,, to enjoy for a day the green fields and blue sky. Elder Willard Dean and Sister Elsa Fernley were talking about this very subject that afternoon, as they were walking side by side on the footpath which extended from highway to highway across the fields. The Stonedale Sunday school was having its annual picnic outing that afternoon. Nearly all the Saints were out, and a number of elders from nearby branches were in attendance . The day was beautiful. The thin, white clouds which floated across a sky of blue were not storm clouds. Yes; the sky can become blue in. ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 343 England, although some people who are more observant of the dreary than they are of the cheerful, tell us differently. The air, laden with field-gathered aroma, was soft and mild. The gathering was to be at the Springs, about a mile from Stonedale, reached by a walk over hill and dale. As the Saints and their friends could not all go at one time, they went in small parties. Willard walked out with a group in the middle of the afternoon, among which were Sister Fernley, Elsa and Bessie. Willard and Elsa brought up the rear, Willard v/ith a big lunch basket and Elsa swinging a pretty sunshade. Their conversation had taken quite a serious turn, and that was the reason, no doubt, why the rest of the party went on ahead and left them together. "You know," Willard was saying, "I had an idea that England was a dull, dreary land, where it rained practically all the time." "How did you get such an idea?" she asked. "Well, I don't know exactly; but many people who have been here have given us that impression. I think, however, I have discovered one reason why travelers get such misconceptions of your country. It is this: Many of them are whisked across the country by your fast trains, ofttimes by night. The beginnings and endings of the journey are in the trafiic section of some big city. Perhaps there is a fog, or it is raining, and then the weary traveler looks around on the dreary scene and says, 'And this is England?' Could he get out into the country for a few weeks in the summer, and walk through England's green fields and lanes, he would form quite a different opinion." "And so you think we have a beautiful country?" asked Elsa, as she changed her parasol to the other hand. This change gave her no shade, but it permitted her to get a better look at her companion. "Yes; your country is a continual delight to me. You see it is so different from ours at home." "In what way is it so different? Tell me about it," she urged . "Well, you must remember that we live in what is called America's arid region, which at one time was considered a vast, worthless area. Sometimes in the summer it does not rain for two 344 IMPROVEMENT ERA. months. You can perhaps imagine what the country looks like at the end of that time. Outside of the irrigated districts, everything is brown or bare. The hot sun has baked the whole land. The mountains, which were grass-covered in the spring, become dry and barren. Towards autumn, the fields become yellow. When the grain is cut, the brown stubble remains. Dust gathers on trees, fences and roadsides. Then comes the winter, and the snow covers the hills. Sometimes it lies in the valleys for weeks at a time. Then it is beautiful. You cannot think how grand it is, especially at night. Then the air is keenly sharp. The sky is an intensely blue vault, without a cloud, and studded with countless stars of diamond brilliancy. The earth is pure white. Add to this scene the merry jingle of sleigh bells , and the shouts of the happy young people — oh my!" Elsa was interested. She had started him to talking, which was not a very easy thing to do, she had learned before this. "So you see, we have many kinds of weather in Utah, and the changes are marked. Here in England there is more of a uniformity. You have green fields the year round. True, there is much rain; but I like rain, and besides, rain settles the dust, washes the trees, and decorates every nook and corner where there is soil with flowers and grass. I think you English people don't fully appreciate your climate. When the weather becomes comfortably warm, you call it 'awfully hot,' and when it is otherwise, it is 'dreadfully naa-sty' — but I'm doing all the talking; I want to hear you talk about England . ' ' The girl laughed. Her cheeks were rosy-red; and her eyes beamed. "I'm glad you like England," she said. "Some of the elders can see nothing good here. I heard one elder say that he would rather see the stones and dust in the streets of his home town than all the green lanes in England." "He was foolish," said he. "No; he was simply homesick," she corrected. "Besides, he had left behind someone very dear to him." "Yes; parents, brothers and sisters." "Elder Dean, don't play stupid. Doesn't every young elder have a sweetheart at home?" ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 345 "Not everyone — I know one who hasn't." "Oh, they all say that." "I never had a sweetheart in my life." He said it quite soberly, and she made no reply; but she tilted the sunshade so that he could not see her face for a moment. Bessie had lingered, but now came up and offered to carry the ^^^^^^^^^^^BK) , ^H^^^ft ?■. ^^^^^^K B^HH^IHBif'' !tl^B « 1, Wm ^b^^^^Kui^H^^H teii '^^^^K 9| ^'T ^ PdH H "The stately homes of England" — Hawarden Castle, the home of Gladstone. basket for a time. He would not hear of it. The path led into a highway again. On one side was a stone wall, old and mosscovered. On the other side was a holly hedge, its bright green leaves shining in the sun. The trees on each side ofttimes met overhead. The picnicers passed beautiful country villas. How cool and restful they were, covered with vines, shaded with trees, and surrounded with grass and flowers! ' 'The stately homes of England — How beautiful they stand, Amid their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land," repeated Elsa. 346 IMPROVEMENT ERA. They passed a typical English country village, and then followed a road which led through high banks of shrubbery. A stone "They passed a typical English country village." wall was scaled by the aid of a stile, near the borders of a small lake. Near the stile, a young couple was seated on the grass, intent upon a book. Bessie soon joined her mother again. "A road which led through high banks of shrubbery." ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 347 "When I look over your country," said Willard, "I no longer wonder why the ancient Danes wanted it, or why men have fought for its possession for a thousand years past; — by the way, I have been "A young couple was seated upon the grass, intent upon a book." reading the little book you loaned me. I have known for years of Ruskin's Sesame and Lilies, but have not read it before. I brought the book with me." "How do you like it?" ''It is full of beautiful thoughts. Here, for instance, is a passage from his 'Of Queens' Gardens' which came to my mind when we were talking of the contrasts between your city and country life. They paused on the last stile long enough for him to take his- 348 IMPROVEMENT ERA. book from his pocket, find the passage and read it. "Ruskin here speaks of the need of a little 'wild and fair nature' for the children to enjoy," said Williard, "and then he continues, speaking to the English people: 'Suppose you had each, at the back of your houses, a garden large enough for your children to play in, with just as much lawn as would give them room to run — no more, — and that you could not change your abode; but that, if you chose, you could double your income, or quadruple it, by digging a coal shaft in the middle of the lawn, and turning the flower-beds into heaps of coal. Would you do it? I hope not. I can tell you, you would be wrong if you did, though it gave you an income of sixty-fold instead of four-fold. " 'Yet this is what you are doing with all England. The whole country is but a little garden, not more than enough for your children to run on the lawns of, if you would let them all run there. And this little garden you will turn into furnace ground, and fill with heaps of cinders, if you can; and those children of yours, not you, will suffer for it.' I put a mark by that passage in your book ,' ' said Willard . "I was tempted to mark many others . ' ' The Springs were now reached. A number of people had already arrived, and the games were set going. Then they ate their lunch, spread on the grass by the hillside. The afternoon continued warm. More people arrived later, and towards evening there were quite a number present. After a heated game of ball, Willard and Elsa found themselves seated on the hillside overlooking the pleasure grounds. That they were quite alone, was not Willard's contriving. When he had reclined in the grass and fanned his warm face with Elsa's sailor hat for a few moments, the fact that they were alone came to him. Perhaps they had been too much alone. He did not want to do anything that would cause talk among the Saints; but they were in full view of the whole pleasure party, so he could be doing no indiscreet act in simply sitting there. The view from the hill was an interesting one. Away to the right stretched the big, black, smoky city, and in that direction a forest of chimneys reached into the air. In front, the valley opened out. The town had extended a long arm into the valley, ROMANCE OF A MISSIOXARY. 849 and there were a number of mills here, too. Beyond the valley were the hills, dotted with homes, and checkered with fields, bordered by stone walls. Woods extended nearly the whole length of the hill-top, pierced here and there by a church spire. Out beyond the houses, down in the valley to the left, could bo seen a small stream, while a canal threaded its way alongside. A number of boats moved slowly along its shining surface, drawn by a horse on the path. Willard Dean and Elsa Fernley sat for some time looking at the scene before them. ''It's your turn to talk," said he. "Shall I repeat what Shakespeare says of England?" "Yes; do." "This is what he says: It is found in Richard II: " 'This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea. Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plat, this earth, this realm, this England.' " "Shakespeare sums it up pretty well," replied he. "Every line counts." Then Elsa talked, and the young man listened; and as she talked she grew confidential. She told him of her early girlhood days, and the trials which she had endured even then. "It seemed to me that I was different from the other girls," she said. "Perhaps I was more serious, for my set was a flighty lot — all the talk was of beaus and the like. I remember how lonesome I used to feel, even when there was no discemable reason for it. I have never had to work in the mills. After school I would often ramble all alone out in the fields and woods, and many a time have I been out here to the Springs. I used to take a copy of 350 IMPROVEMENT ERA. Wordsworth with me and read his beautiful descriptions of nature while in the midst of it. Truly, also, " *I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills.' — Wordsworth, you know, lived in England's beautiful lake region, "England's beautiful lake region" — Lake Windermere. and the beauty of the country has entered into his poems — I think now that those early years was a preparation for what was coming, when I was to hear the gospel." They both sat on the grass, he a little above her. While she talked, she looked out over the children playing below them, and he looked at her. He couldn't help it, because, was she not directly in his line of vision? The breeze blew her hair about her face — it had become somewhat ruffled by her romping play in the ball game — and as she tried to tuck it into orderly place, she smiled up into the face above her. There was to be no love making! Willard knew it, and often he repeated it to himself. He thought he was safe, but again there came to him, as he looked into those laughing eyes for just ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY 351 a moment, something inexpressibly sweet and yet akin to fear. No one had ever looked at him like that before. No one had ever confided to him as this girl had the very secrets of her heart. No one had ever spoken so softly and sweetly. No one had ever trusted him as she did;— and in it all there was danger to the heart of the susceptible, inexperienced boy who ofttimes was heart-hungry himself. M^ "^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 i^^^B ^^^^^Kg^cx:l-_^.^^^^^^^^^& ^^^^^^1 ^^■•^JP ^^^^^ "^^^^ *■ ^i^* ||M||^^|i mbJi ^.mS^U Grasmere Village and Lake^Home and grave of the poet Wordsworth. The fear element of his emotions grew stronger. First he feared for himself, then for her. What if she should acquire more than a brotherly fondness for him? There was no reason why she should, and yet she might. That would never do. He had suffered once, he told himself, and he desired for no soul that experience. He shuddered when he thought that he might be the cause. What, if anything, had he done in this case? He had walked and talked only. He had been very interested, it is true, but their talks had been strictly within proper bounds. And yet, why did she look at him like that? Why had her hand lingered softly in his, whenever he liad said goodby? 352 IMPROVEMENT ERA. The sun went down over the western hill. Long shadows crept out over the valley below and up the distant hillside . The mellow haze in which the distant landscape lay bathed took upon itself a deeper tint of pearly blue. The picnicers now gathered in one group on the hillside below, and they motioned for Willard and Elsa to join them, which they did. Then songs were sung — the soul inspiring Latter-day Saints hymns. Passers-by paused to listen. Poems were recited, and dialect stories were told. Who that has ever enjoyed these outings in the mission field will ever forget the simple joys and pure delights of such gatherings? Then began the walk homeward. Willard purposely avoided Elsa, who chatted gaily with a group of friends. Twice they met, but each time Willard managed to become separated. Before the fields were crossed, Elsa became noticeably quiet. After a time she quickened her pace, and he saw her no more until they reached home . He parted with Sister Fernley and Bessie at the door, but Elsa was not to be seen. ''Where is Elsa?" he inquired. "She must have come on ahead," replied her mother. "She complained of a headache." "I'll go in and say goodnight," he said. She was sitting by an open window, resting her head on the casement, and looking out into the coming night. "I have come to say goodnight," he said. She arose, and took his hand. "Goodnight," she said simply and softly. There was a slight tremor in her voice. Her face was a little pale, and her eyes were swimming. Willard held her hand for a moment, and then saying goodnight turned and left. The emotions within himself seemed to accumulate and materialize into a big hard lump in his breast, and oh, how it did hurt! The next day Willard had a long confidential talk with his conference president; and a week later Elder Willard Dean received from the Liverpool office a communication transferring him from the Leeds to the London conference. (to bk continued.)