PAGE TW 0'

An Island Story with a Well-I

known Pianist as a Central Character

By ARTHUR HICKMAN

CHAPTER l

In ‘a shooting box on Cape Cod which contained, I remember, a great fireplace. an amazing bath- room at the top of a detached tower. and a selected library. I founda. very small book. perhaps three by four inches, by a quarter of an inch thick. This book was devoted to earnestly thought-out definitions. and one of these was of a prohibitionist. It said:

“A_Prohibitionist is a man with whom you would not care to take a drink, even if he drank."

The niorsel of imperial jade forin- ulated a suspicion that had been darkening my mind, based on the few attested prohibitlonists I had ever met. or had had pointed out to me.

I have sometimes wondered how a country may be profoundly governed by a class so hidden that one may pass much of a lifetime without ever. with certainty. encountering one of the true faith.

However. these things are beyond solving by consideration.

My wife and I decided to go on a full months‘- holiday, which I had not done since 1913. We now live on the shore of Long Island Sound. a hazy sea which does not obtrude its minor moods on the surrounding civilization-—unless it may be Smith- town Bay in an autumn non-easier.

We were to go into the Maritime Provinces of Canada and I wonder- ed, with high exhilaration, whether sky and sea and wood still wholly dominated that alluring country. For sky and sea and wood breed individuality and repair individu- ality. If the precise climate of Northumberland Strait were under- stood and wholly available to all people. the eastern United States would stand vacant in summer.

We left with seven hundred pounds of baggage in an ancient and silent Rolls-Royce that. having traveled a hundred and eighty thousand miles. was now prepared to begin its life work. First we invaded Cape Cod where my wife had an errand. We glided on to that engaging sand spit- on roads like the Streets of Glass. plunged into moist heat-at was August-and were suddenly envelop- ed in fog, swept under dripping elms at Yarmouth and groped into Orleans. where \ve stopped.

As evening shut down and coii- '

tracted my twenty-five-foot world to a blurred arm's length. I felt my way to the head of a side road that vented on the main highway to Pro- vincetown. and went in search oi any least adventure. _

A stout and fiorid traveler out oi a sedan that loomed in the fog. and from the flare of the lights was head- ed east, consulted two elderly men beside an automobile service station. The question was something about a fish dinner. There was no reply.

"Fish!" he said. It was not so much a comment on the proposition as a savouring of they word. The in- quirer, still with hope in his cye. gazed from one to the other. and in the end the first looked at him and again said:

"Fish!" _

This appeared to stir something in the breast of the secondresidcnt for he. in turn. fixed his eye on the stranger, as if to be sure. and oncc more said:

"Fish!" Then there was silence for a. long time. The traveler's glance weakened. After extended thought the first informant resumed:

."Fish!" and pointed eastward into the heart of the fog. “Abaout twelve mile down the road there's a fella‘ from Noo Yawk named Deever keeps a place. They give y‘ lobsters an'-— y' turn lo the right. about four mile ofi‘ the main road—" The stranger was grateful. and with the easy mo- tion that has become national. brought forth a metal container" that glinted. The two residents sprang to attention. there was a pro- longed gurgle. the bang of the car door. the grind of gears. and the tail light reddened the fog and vanish- ed. -

One hour later. through learning pf a mutual acquaintance. I had won the confidence of the night man at the service station to the extent that I rode with him to a place where a motor-truck without lights had stopped discreetly in a side road. It needed one nev/ spark plug and a gallon of oil.

"The booze of the country must be moved!“ he said. succinctly.

The following afternoon we swung off the Cape. ploughed through an enveloping rain for the hundred miles to Boston. and the next morn- ing hoisted the Rolls on a steamer not designed for motor-cars. On the day following. she climbed precari- ously the side of a dock at Saint John. New Brunswick. and we pro- ceeded through glittering country. until. in the afternoon. a hundred and fifty miles east and north. with- out warning we rolled out in sight. of that lambent sea. the southern bight of the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

Across the Strait of Northumber- land with the air as clean-washed as after a north-wester. Prince Ed- ward Island, red-banked. lay along the whole northern horizon; and thither we proceeded gleefully. mounted on a flat-car on an impos- ing train-ferry with tour funnels Landed on red dirt roads, we swung around sparkling bays. then across country between endless farms until we slid into the ancient little city of Charlottetown. At the end of a street that led apecloualy into the harbor, and so out to sol again. we

were stopped by a semophorlng fig-

I

ure in fiannels. that. even from, a great distance. we could see was Mr. Kimborough, Mr. F. B. Kimborough of the A-fiat Major Polonaise. who was our destination. Mr. Kim- borough had married. and dwelt in this paradise in summer. and that we should visit him after thirteen years was auspicious.

The greetings were joyful. He showed us all of how he lived, facing those startling sunsets over Hills- borcugh Bay; and. after a convivial dinner which involved lobster that seemed a shade under size, three brace of eurlew. capillairc from New- foundland and Bristol Cream as a sherry. he led us, with some rever- ence. to a large and shadowy room that contained a nine-foot Steinway concert grand. There, beginning de- liberately with Czerny studies, he drifted into Chopin preludes, and followed these through. solemnly and in order. until our perspective was fully restored. I-Ic finished with a Paderewski noeturnc. I-Ie had ac- quired great breadth and repose. but the late- French school was still magnificently absent

Then he lured me out to walk in the face of a young moon that was near its setting. and that chose to appear as a sombre and portentous phenomenon. as if it were in its last quarter instead of in its first.

‘As a beginning. under a light and in full regalia. we collided with a Commander of a visiting British cruiser, whom we had known some years earlier as a inichhipman, un- der the service name of Tomtom. At that time. following a ball, and in the presence of Ladies, he had unrefiectingly exploded a modern type of cannon cracker in the cap- tain's cabin. Through the reek of smokeless powder and smelling salts he had explained that he had lighted it simply “to get the wind up" and intended to "damp it out- with his fingers.“ It did not damp. But he did hold on to it valiantly by the end while it blew up. and came off with a cut lip. We were banished to the ward-room. In memory of this event we were now invited aboard. where we drank twenty-year-old whiskey out of the wood. as near bo nectar as a man may attain,

As we were landed at a pile wharf, a small schooner moved softly into the same dock and I heard one slat of her foresail and the bubble of water- under her forcfbot as she rounded to and tied up. We turned from listening to tlic diiighyls reced- ing oars to a figure that stood he- side us iii that very faint moonlight.

"Oh. it's you. Mr. Fred." it, said. Then viewing me with some care. "There's some extra good Iisiiin‘ oii the North Shore, I hear-Brig Pond. Where is the ‘Margaret?’ Mr. Kini- borough pondered.

"I heard she was duc here tomor- row."

"Not so bad!" said the figure. “She's got lots of information fem reliable sources." and waving a fe ic- itous hand he moved up- the wharf. The pianist stared in his direction.

“There is something funny, about this." he said. "You wait here." He went over. the coping of the wharf and dove into the lighted ctiddy oi‘ the little schooner. where he stayed for twenty minutes.

He reappeared. to find.mc watch- ing a long and impressive vessel of a highly military profile that boiled up harbor. the smoke from her fiin- iiel blotting out the stars.

“That is no stand-by fire!" I veri- tured.

“These fellows.“ he grinned. "beat ihc devil. That is liic Margaret- already-firing furiously. and won- daring which way to jump."

This was all unblemished mystery. and I said so.

“The ‘Margaret? he began. "is a Dominion Government cruiser- whosc duty it is to thwart the im- porters of Chateau Lafiltc and Mr. Hennesscys Three Sart who trade to the romantic islands of Ste. Pierre et Miquclon: and just at present she is reeling in here with her pop-valve stuttering. as you note. on what I judge to be extremely incorrect in- formation. That is. she's been did- died." Here it became necessary to explain. I~ give you the briefest im- pressioii.

\

It appeared that in Prince Edward Island. as in the United States. itis forbidden to drink alcohol unless you are ill. But the arrangement is more humane and humorous. Bad health is unrestricted. The Island has eighty-eight thousand people, including the descendants of many hairy-legged Highlanders of whom whiskey is the life-blood, and on the unsuspecting day that awoke to find this Law. these were diveded into eighty thousand invnlids and eight thousand fanatics. .

The driven administrators knew that the over-worked druggist must fail to deal with this great. stricken brotherhood. so they set up Govem- nient vendors of wines and liquors in all places Thus. the Government might profit a little. which is well: and the Government supplies the best. If you have a prescription from a doctor of medicine. you may purchase a bottle of brandy or rum or burgundy or creme dc cacao, or whatever is the specific cure for your infirmity. If you've twelve prescrip- tlons you may purchase twelve bot», tics. You are not physically exam- ined at the desk. It is acceptcqhat you illness requires twelve bottles. Ilt was later to develop that my con-

genital trouble could only be reached by Perrier Jouet. Special Reserve. and not permanently at that.) The doctors of the more unworthy class

‘r ’.'?‘!y“! -.-

write prescriptions day and night at fixed rates, and medicine is rising to the dignity of a business.

It is a fairly happy arrangement, but not wholly peaceful. There is still a certain uprest. It would be better if it were all fair and above- board, as in the great and sane Pro- vince of Quebec.

So, if there is an irruption along the unguarded North Shore-an iin- lighted schooner hangs on the outer edge of a harbor bar through half a night, and the lobster boats pound back and forth through the Gulf surf until the stars fade out at dawn —then there is happiness in all that ‘district. and the fluttering Ford car- cens along the high-crowned roads with sweet assurance. going down to Montague. or to the horse-races at New Annan. Such is the Island. Such is the rest of tlic World.

But the pianist was off the subject. inadvertently I lrzid told him the story of the man on Cape Cod who wanted the fish dinner, and he chuckled. then fell into silence.

“Flsh!" he said finally. "Say. have you heard anything of Henry Simp-' son and Mr. Charles Anderson? Look!" We ‘passed suddenly through three baize doors into a lighted bar. complete as in tlic days gone past.

and he labored into the front scat of the Rolls and came to rest. Thu idea was acceptable. The pianist grinned at me. To those hide- bound mechanics that drive these gilded chariots in Piccadilly. Fifth Avenue and the Rue dc 1a Paix. this expedition would be beyond dream- ing. But no matter. The food was added and also one large and lumpy canvas bag of Mr. Kiniborouglrs that might have coniairitid rubber boots, or uiiytliiiig else in the world, and we started. I drove. with Mr. Simpson beside me.

“We resume. ad seriatini." he rc- iiiarked. "I suppose you have no idea—" ~

I said that I had none-Anal ill‘. had begun about eleven oklok-k iiii~ evening belorc byaskiiu; inc ii i

in'!" I stated that I believed iliu‘ undoubtedly we were. bcviind which I knew nothing.

"Then." he said. ‘The Lord will provide!" llc re. over the back of the seal and seized a bottle of beer from which Mr. Anderson at that instant had tirawn ilic cork. ' .

sl-Trlgik-‘r: _

f _ "I'm.

A.

'7.

"I don't see why. after thirteen years, you should mention Fish just as things are forming themselves into some sort of a tragedy—" He. whirled around abruptly.

“You fish trout?" He had unload- ed from the car three trout rods ol mine, and it was not necessary to answer. He led on into an insidi- room that contained a telephone and, immediately. two bottles of Bass’ Ale.

"I'm going to call ‘em up!" In four minutes he was addressing the main- land. I-Ie inquired tenderly if Mr.

Simpson remembered Mr. Siieed of ‘

Montreal and the yacht Gloria. then referred to my presence. and ended by instructing Mr. Simpson and Mr Anderson to take the Hochelaga and be in Charlottetown on the follow- ing day. The interview closed in somewhat bewilderment. but they would come. And we went home to bed.

"This thing." he said. “is a mir- acle. I think you're going to sec something!" There was only one tan- gible portent to take hold of: I overhauled my trout rods and waited. We were on the extreme verge of the unknown.

CHAPTER ll

At one o'clock the next day Mr. Simpson. the Foremouth blacksmith. and Mr. Anderson, the navigator of a flat. blindfolded. through hell in a thundersquall. appeared. and after many happy reminiscences were summarily equipped with trout rods. each to his taste.

“Shall we take this?" Mr. Kim- borough pointed toward a springless car designed for fishing. Mr. Simp-