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Pembrokesire C M. Presbytery.…





Pembrokeshire Folklore.


--__---------- - Only One…


Only One Second between Time and Eternity, and-" SOME time ago a wealthy Company Promoter was, with several friends, taking a short cut along a portion of the Highland Railway near Grantown, where there is a very deep and almost perpendicular cutting, a very sharp curve, and (ex- cept for»a goat or a monkey) no possible egrees within fully a hundred yards. The party con- sisted of four gentlemen and three ladies. When about half way through the cutting they were overtaken by a railway porter who, almost breathless with haste, informed them that by running they had just time to get clear of the cutting before the express due at that spot at 3,3) passed. Each member of the party 2 instantly consulted his or her watch-all valuable gold ones—but no two of them agreed, nor did any of them agree with that of the railway porter. My friend felt sure the porter was wrong, and tried to assure his friends that there was plenty of time and no need to hurry," but the railway porter was obdurate and implored the party to run for their lives, himself setting a brilliant example. Seeing the porter sprinting hard, the ladies took fright and followed, and instantly .the whole party were running as if the express were at their heels. And so it was The last of the party had just rolled over iuto a ditch at the end of the cutting when the express thundered past. The escape was so narrow (not one second of time) that the ladies fainted, and for, perhaps, the first time in his life, the Company Promoter uttered a prayer of thanksgiving, lie had lived a somewhat reck- less life, and as he afterwards explained to me, "It was only a second between time and eternity, and- But lie did not finish the sentence; lie was evidently thinking of Lis previous life. "But," I asked, "how was it that only the porter's watch was correct ? I thought your watch was a very costly one." o Yes, so it was, 1 paid £ 80 for it. Btit I offered it to the railway porter in exchange for Iiis-a very ordinary looking silver watch—but would you believe it, he simply laughed at me, and exclaimed, Nae, nae, Sir Mine's a Benson I dinna want ony o' yer rubbish!" "And," added my friend, "I can now say with the porter, "Mine's a Benson, direct from their Steam Factory on Ludgate Ilill."