Excerpt from Our Little Town: And Other Cornish Tales and Fancies

Bessie"s Tom, who is a travelled man and knows what he is talking about, is wont to declare that if he were to have a sudden access of fortune - ay, though it were thousands of pounds - he would never stir from Porthjulyan. Why should he, when Porthjulyan provides all that the heart of rational man can desire - affable neighbours, plenty of news going round all the while, and the fat of the land to live on? There is no beef like ours; killed at our doors, it goes into the pot fresh and fresh twice a week. If you have a mind to a sup of tea, or if your fancy dwells on a sup of brandy, our resources are equal to either occasion. Would you muse on the beauties of Nature? There are the rocks in the cove, declared by unprejudiced strangers to be the handsomest rocks they ever set eyes on.

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