S. Levan has fine old bench-ends and exquisitely bad modern woodwork, and in the neighbourhood is the Logan Rock and some of the finest coast scenery of the Land’s End. S. Levan was priest and metal-worker in S. Patrick’s company, and some of his bells and book-covers remained long preserved as treasures in Ireland.
S. Senan has been gutted by the restorer, and has in it no longer anything of interest except a mutilated statue of the Virgin and Child.
Madron has not much of interest, except the oft-quoted epitaph on George Daniel:—
“Belgia me Birth, Britain me Breeding gave,
Cornwall a Wife, ten children and a grave.”
Paul’s, dedicated to S. Paul of Leon, brother of S. Wulvella of Gulval, has a good tower, and several points of interest. Here was buried, 1778, Dolly Pentreath, the last person able to converse in the old Cornish language. Pentreath was her maiden name. She was married to a man of the name of Jeffery. It is still the custom in the villages of Mousehole and Newlyn for women to be called by their maiden names after marriage; indeed, there are some instances in which the husband goes by the maiden name of his wife, when his individuality disappears under her more pronounced personality. Such would doubtless be the case in the following instance I quote from the Cornish Magazine:—
Girl (selling papers): “If you please, sir, do you want a ’Ome Companion?”
Householder (at door): “No, thank’ee, my dear. I got wan.”
Girl: “’Ome Chat, sir?”
Householder: “’Ome Chat!” (throws open the door). “Here, just come fore and listen for yourself. Hark to her a bellerin’ in the back kitchen.”