« M! m: i zsrsuixruamumresnnuua DAD? pecvish to find there’: band.l-lc sets great store and dirt-makes a man $0M£7'IIlNG ram (/3 .We can't quote Dad exactly, but hue’: the idea: "How can a man take a bath with this] Where's that soap that lsfhszs?" It makes Dad lather that gets himreally clean. The ACTIVE lather that frees pores of stale perspiration. dust \ Alwvoyeo . no Lux Toilet Soap on by the rich, quick, man’: feel fit. rvooorooooooooaoac-~»« ~ 15 ACRES OF LAND I .5é‘*“‘O(-hfilkxan ..,,,,_,*.‘ I FOR SALE N THE ROYALTY OF’ A CHARLOTTETOWN uated 3% miles from Char! west of the permanent high House contains eight rooms with thb cellar. The land is in a and has a stream of runnin ducks and geese. The undersigned oifers for sale the above property sit- ottetown and Twelve chains way on the Malpeque Road. water system installed in splendid state of cultivation g water suitable for, raising Contains also a fox ranch. The above including three head of cattle, farming implements and crop must be sold, as the owner is in ill health and unable to attend to farming operations. For further particulars apply to Fidele Gallant on the premises or to S. DESfi"""‘ Solicitor, Canadian Bank of Commerce Bldg Charlottetown. .:~a.s.*°‘;.1.°.:.‘n:.:.‘~‘°‘ -69+ TO LET , Dwelling No.24‘! Grafton Street. "l lately occupied by Dr. Keeping. Amy L. M. rooms .2 co. L-5908-7-8-H. TENDERS Scaled Tenders addressed to the undersigned, will be received up to July 17th, for Han!!!‘ and De- _ llvcrlng in Cellar, Approximately 125 tons coal, from Mt. Herbert Station to rrotestsni Ornhannam Lowest or my tender not neces- I-vii: accenkt . IRA M. BIWWN. sec'y.-Trans. P. 0. Box 324, Ch"l‘own. L-6044-‘7-13-3i. ' ?-——- ‘*=::Z7. NO TYCE By order ol the Trustees of Whestley River School all School Tax Arrcu-I will be handed to the Court for collectitm after August 1st, 1988. ARCHIE BARRETT. Secretary of Trustees. L-6091-'1-15-21. NOTICE Starting Wednesday. July 15th eudsy J. W. Mcliwl-IN, Bristol. B. W. Mcl:WlZN, Morcll. Iblfiwfi &‘ ROSSITER, Morel]. A A -...----kk - vvvvvvv v v v The Island The islands, on the islantb. The islands of the seas! What haunting memories cluster And linger over there:— The British isles of freedom, The classic isles of Greece, The lonely isles, the prison isles. The Elysian isim of peace. The islands, on the islands. The islands of the seal There's many 3. one in story, But only one for me: The Island of the rolling hills, of upland lawn and lea, The little Garden of the Gulf, That rests upon the sea. oh, her little hills are gardens, And her forests are but parks, Where the woodland birds are call- in: To the slnginz meadow lurks: And the perfume of her mladows. And the perfume of her trun, Are forever intermingled With the odor of her seas. —-M. M. K. FOR SALE Desirable House and Lot, situated conveniently in Crspund Village. Alibi! MRS. ALICE WALKER. L-0016-7-It-3!-18. FOR SALE OR TO RENT Desirable property, '15 Dorchesier Street, dwelling house comprising 14 rooms and si-lop,bsthroom, hot water heating. suitable for store Ind boarding house or for conversion Into apartments or tenements. AW‘! 68 Pownsl Street. L-5369-6-8-M-W-F-tf. The Pure Bred Clydesdale Stallion PBIIOE E. 26486 the owner’s stable at Emerald. Mares at owners’ risk. C. W. CROKEN, u IE-D-15-I-I -0-7-13 5.. in VA. 1 1': M _v Stallion owners-—At. mtion I Durslcy. awakening suddenly from Will make season of 1936 at Owner in Charge. is dry-dzeun--which mint have been I very profound ono. because he couldn't. in the lust romeinbfl‘ . what he nsdbeen dreszn1na~b0u>- found bunslf standing rislit before the inn, and, for a. moment or two. gazed at it rather stupidly. He was glad enolidh '90 960 "h° mn.tox-hounds misiavv ihlnion him. His threat was smaainely dry and rough—4imost as though his mouth had recently been filled with dust. I-furthermore, an inn had been his dbjective when he first set out on his well. But not this inn. , It was entirely strange to him, i and he could not, for the life of him understand how he had come ‘upon it. True, in his absence of mind, he might; easily have missed L his way. but he had always thought I that every inch of the countryside I was familiar to him. Yet he had certainly never set eyes on that inn before. Or had he . . .? somehow the charming little place seemed vaguely farmiliario him . . . And iJhen—a.gsln rather curious- ly, for his mind seemed strangely confused—-it came to him! of course! It. was just the very place that old Sterne used to talk about. Years ago, when they were stud- ents together, and used to go long country walks, Sterne used to talk tie down in a lovely old world, country in. He used to describe it in detail——and this place was n.i- most exactly the type of inn he used Do draw eloquent word-pictures of. Although all that happened so many years ago, Dursley rememb- ered details. Sterne had always said he would call it the “Welcome Inn," on dthai; he would keep 3. inrge sandy-cat, and have a table and a settle outside, under a. cedar-tree. And then, indeed. Dursley stared and rubbed his eyes! For right in front of him, be- neath the great, fiat: spread of a huge cedar, there stood a scrubbed table and an oak settle——a.nd, in the centre of the tame, a magni- iiceni: specimen of 3. sandy-cat basked in the sunshine! Dursiey look- ed round for the sign, and, after that, was not in the least surprised to see that it bore the words, in old English iettez1ng:' "Welcome Inn". Dursley laughed then, and realis- ed that he must be dreaming. Nevertheless he pinched, himself and felt the pains, counted up to twenty, and repeated some poetry aloud. Also he realised he could smell things—the perfume a: pine, of flowers, and or fresh dewy grass, mingling with the rich smell of old ale and of something in the stew line cooking. He could never rememlber smell- ing in a dream ‘before! He looked around him. The counrtrysld-e, very bezuqiifui and quite strange to him, looked never- theless perfectly normal. The sun blazed from n. cloudless sky and the birds sang in the trees. He found he could distinguish their notes and classify them. No, aftzer all, he could not be dreaming. This, then, was the most amazing wincidence in the world, unless . . . He strode through the open door and into the quaint old bar-room, with its sanded floor. And iihen he wasn't in the least surprised to see Sterne himself standing behind the bar, smiling at him. Although he hadn't. seen him for over (twenty years, Sterne hsd hard- ly changed at all—exoevpt that he looked amazingly prosperoug and hobby. Wihy, Dunslev. dear old chap——tzhis is a. surprise! How on earth did you manage to get here?" Dursiey, grasping his old friend's hand, laughed. For some reason he felt terrifically happy, and free from care. "To tell you the truth, old man- it's an astonishing thing. but Pvc got to confess that I don't exactly know!“ 8terne's smile broadened siigihtiyz "That's not so unusual as you might imagine-—o.mongst the people who come here!” he remarked a little crylpticsliy. .l" Dursley about how, one day, he would set- 1y "No, but really . . protested. "I set out for a. walk ? - \\\ EXPLAIN , BUT "ii-lE IMMATURE GRASP SO lN'TRlCA'l'E' OUR BOARDING HOUSE , , , sew, MEN-AFTER W/ EXTENSIVE ENTOMOLOGICAL I exvemmeurs W|Tl-I CERTAIN iN3EC'T3,I AM ABOUT 10 ‘PRODUCE A see or TFRELESS. Ei~lE'R5Y“--THE IDEA WILL MAKE P45 MiLLiOi\l8~s-a . i-iAi<-KAK-I-4--‘I coum .' ‘ WOJLD ‘BE UNABLE TO from stoke-.Pcnd.lcvcn—.I’n been very iii, an I matter of fuct—nsr- vous breakdown, and oft.bin¢.youknaw.ItwIsmyin-V tention to walk as for Is the ‘Bar- ley Mow’ st, Little Pcndloton. and have u long drink there. you see. Then, rounding the bend in the lane about A mile out ozjiendlevon -—near Since’: Farm, you know- scma young fool in s high-tpowcnsd our came tearing round. on his wrong side, and seemed to make straight at me. I hid in dodge like -blazes! I gue$—my nerves being wonky and all that-—it rather shock me. and I had to sit down by the roadside for a bit. Then, when I got up and started walking, I must have slipped into 3. sort) of day dream—«becs.use the next thing knew I was standing right outside this pliwe of yours!" Sterne nodded and smiled, as flwlflh he under-mood neriieci‘-ly, -while Dursley shared round the bar- roam again. “You know,” he remarked xe- ilectiveiy, ‘it's really marvellous! I mean, so few of us ever realise our early dreams and am-.bitions—and I remember, twenty years ago, how you used to describe the old-world inn you’d have one dsy—and, by George, here it is!" Sterne nodded and smiled again: "Yes, here it is!" he agreed, gent- Dursley, actually, was racking his brain. He knew that there was something about Sterne he ought to . mam?‘ ——somethlng that had happened to him, just before his (Durs!ey‘s) breakdown. something that had been in izhe newspapers. But, for the life of him he cou.!dn*i remember it. His mind had been like that since his illnes, somehow. Aloud he said: ‘‘It’s a perfectly marvellous old place, you know! But what: beats me is that. living in the district as I do, and knowing it all like a book, I've never encountered it before. How far are you, actually, from Stoke Pendleton, Sterne?" The other smiled again. He was always smiling. it seemed and such a Jolly, carefree smile it was too. “Oh, not for, really, old man. Quite close in fact! But look here, what about that beer you really came in for, en?” He reached out, took two shining tankards from their hooks, and, holding them in one hand, filled them from the barrel on the counter. Dursley still had his thirst, and drank eagerly. Then he heaved a deep sigh of contentment: "My word. Sterne, but that's beer! I've never tasted anything so good before. I don’t, think. Why, it's like ambrosial” Sterne chuckled: “That's what it is—a.1mosti" he admitted, not without 9. suggestion of pardonatbie pride. Dursley took another look round the bar: "Queer!" he commented. "The light seems 8. bit strange in here, somehow—-sort of heliotrope effect, and almost as though there was a mist about!" Sieme nodded: ‘‘Yes.'‘ he said. “I duresay it would look like that-—et first!" This struck Duzsley as a rather strange re-mas-k, and he was about to comment on it when they were iniaerruptéd by the entrance of a womr.n—or, tamer. a girl. Or, hang it (thought Dursley) which was she? Somehow she didn't look like 3. girl, and yet her poise and movements and the expression on her face, were essentially girlish- end beautiful. "By the way," said Sterne, “I done think you ever met my wife. Yvonne, this is Captain Dursley, a very old friend of mine!” As he took the woman's soft warm hand, and gazed into her beautiful smiling face, a sudden gust of memory came back to Dursley. Memory of reading an ac- count of steme’s wedding in the paper, and a. photo of hhe bride . . "Willy, I—er—-that is . . .i" he stcmamered. But Sterne seemed in know exactly what he was think- ing of. "No. not my first wife!" he put in softly. "Yvonne and I met- lsierl come old man, sit down and with . ,, Ipc.irstisst,endIma.rriedMIdc- run; cnAsLo'rrirrowN GUARDIAN {L A Little 3.. With God lyW.ll.lAI!'l.I‘l-I10’?! Years. You know how 1 Achieved some sort of fame as I flying men. and n record-breskar, and all taint —ondIgsbhoryoumow,froInil1c newspapers, of my marriage with Madeleine. Well. you know 1 was always an ideslist—-this old inn, for instance. I hld my ideal woman, as well. but. somehow, I never met her. Pboliehly. I gave it up in des- leine. partly because she was very much in love ‘because I as near my ideal as I was ever likely to get. ‘mat was I sod mis- -take! "Two years 530 I met mun. dim-e—-quits accidentally, at 1. dance. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. for she was my ideal in every way—the woman I had dreamed of for years. "It was a. horrible position. I bad a great: regard for Madeleine, and —4wei1. she, very foolishly, thought me a sort of demi-god. Put me on a pedestal. and kept me there, if you know wlmt I mean! Id thexe'd been anything between Yvonne and I-1 mean anything concrete, other than our love for each other, which we couldn't hei¢p—&nd Mod- eleinc had found out, it would hove broken her heart and ruined her life, import from losing me! I resus- edizhct.sndthn.ciswliy itdidnt, happen! “I was quite frank with Yvonne: —izhere was no other way. We used to meet, and ‘discuss it over and over again. I was booked for that record-breaking round the world stunt. and Yvonne begged me, with -tear; in her eyes, to give it up. she . was frightened of the ri.t—for ms. But Madeleine was anxious I should havosgoa.tit,n.ndwIssux~cI should win. That was Madeleine- I was ha hero, and my career meant a lot to her. But Yvonne only thought of me. D'you under- stand? “Well. we had been about our affair and what we could do about it. And about this air-race. And I got a sudden brainwave. I said to Yvonne: “‘l..ook here. darling! I’Ve got an ides.—a hunch. For the life of me I don't know what in do to get on of this mess I've made of our lives —cnd of Madeleine's. Now. I'm Just going to make a little bet with God! I'm going all out for this race,9.nd,ifIwi.nit,Ishsllbe- hearing furiously alone a little, twisty country long when I hap- pened to glance at the clock on the dashboard. It said three twenty-five —Just one moment, as A matter of fact when Derek wag feeling sure he had won his little bet with God. Then I remembered that I had promised most faithfully to have tea with an invalid friend, who lived forty miles away, at four o’- clock. I swung the car round, ac» celeraied once more, and rcvelled in thcspeedaglhroughtherupiaos full seventy. Just as I came to a. sharp curve I glanced at that clock have that God means you and I for each other, and I'll leave Madeleine and come to you. If I lose-—I stick in Madelie, and we must say good-by to each other. How's that?’ “It took me a. long time to per- suade her to see my point and give in to my ‘whim'—if you could call it that." "I made my start. Madeleine was there, by the plans, when I took cff—gcy, gmiling. ind full of optim- ism. But I was thinking all the time of Yvonne——there clone in the crowd, with her beautiful eyes blind- ed by tears and her loving heart sick with fear. And that was pretty awful. “Well, old boy, I went all cut. I smashed records left and right. and, as I drew near my destination-— and my win-1. greet Joy settled in my heart. God had Ioccptnd my bei-endlwuwinningitilwu ‘_.. thrown the other like I flavour is the one did bed You want 7/efm wn I;0NTRACl‘ To own rr -ro Y0lJ O In corn flakes, as in other foods, most. Quaker Corn Flakes give it to you under guu-cntee . . . tint they are the best-flavoured, most delicious corn flakes you ever tasted or your money back. Although Quaker Corn Flakes coo: no more, they cfier you rhesus-rm tenures no other corn links: have. Money-buck guarantee of bend flavour. Wu-wnppin and triple- seniing to protect the and cs-in nen. . Enrichment with viumin "D". A coupon in every pschge cxchnc valuable i:nercI_Isn e. thing you want freshness ble for QUAKER C)o/2/w7a/MA. cod myself! Flying through the air I had conquered to the arms of the wcmsnlloved. . . only.occIs- ionoiiy. I shuddered at what I should have to tell Madeleine . . . "And i:hen—sudden.ly and quite unexpectedly — something went. wrong. I never knew what it was. But I found myself fa.1ling——spi:n- ning end falling through the air. helpless as a shot bird, or a drop- (ping leaf! I knew then that I had lost: my bet, and that this was tzhe end! But, curiously enough. I felt neither frightened nor disappoint- ed. I remained quite cool. I even looked It the clock in front of me as I went hurtling down . . .i" some chapped aibnmtly. Ind then said: “Yvonne will tell you the met.” Using -the some quiet tone as her hudwcnd had done, Yvonne took In the story: “I can never tell you how I pes- ed the time while that awful race wag on. It seems silly, now, when Il0okliI&0Ii!i'~4l7lli thcmcsme a period when I got wildly rest! I simply couldn't stay quiet. 30 I got my on out: and commenced to race mndly—rcck1essiy and without any mechl objective-all over the country. I think I just wanted to DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC WORKS AND HIGHWAYS The West River Bridge will be closed to vehicle traffic commencing Tuesday» goasfIsinsbcwasgoing.IwIs cgain—tiuee-thirty! At Just that ‘, although I didn't imcw it. Derek was falling like 3 stone ix)- wards the earth! Then I looked up -01. big lorry. trying in turn, was drawn right comm the lane. Men were shouting and waving their arms—but itwisboolsts . . ." Yvonne, too, stopped abruptly. ursey looked at them rather blank- ly. They were both unlllm at him in a. curious msnI1er——u.s though. they had pwpounded a riddle, and were awaiting his answer. “I——er—«I see!" he said, slowly- not seems in the least, however. "And—and so you both got sunsh- ed up, ch?" "'I‘het.'s riohtl" ate:-no nodded, still smiling. Again Dursley struggled to N- call what it was he had read Ibout stems in the newspapers . . . something about an accident, oi-—’i An old carter entered the bar. and Sterne rose to serve him with beer. From somewhere oubslde s childish voice was heard, culling "Mummle . . .i" Yvonne rose: TAKE 'rn:s.m:s'mmr .. “Tho kiddies!" she smiled. “I must go to them." Dursley stored at her in renewed surprise: "You have I 31Tor- she sEe'"ETed coidioticsliyyoungicbcsuwtsher. somehow "on, rilthor." she laughed book at him. "rvu got obreo. I shouldn't be happy without’. balbies—eveu Bhc ran out of the bar, and left girlrsloy gaping rather stupidly sf- sppctred again. smiling and bow- -tifui. mm: sunny haired children. of about the some nee, clung in her skirts. Dunloy stored. than shifted hit} guetosiornmwho was nlsosmii-‘ in; and holding I brimming unk- nrd out in him. As Dursley tool: it he sold: I (Continued on page 6) NOTICE J une 23rd, until further notice. ' L. B. MacMI1.LAN, Deputy Minister of Public Works and Highways Major Hoopla -.1 nun 5 I FEAR Ml ND l WHAT EVER F%M HAVING A ». TU6 OF WAR Oluriouewwn, OUT OUR WAY June so, 1980. By WILLIAM! ,’.~ I.‘ - -=.v.::::..v..~.: 5 ‘ 4054.000. I I‘ A . \ 41-" CRAP bi-i0CTiN', HAH! GiAM5LiN'"" DO YOU KNOW Wt-IUT Ti-U0’ LEADS TO} IT ‘LEAD5 ‘IO CROOK TO TAKIN‘ THINGQ ‘THAT BELONG TO OT HER EDHE5-5 ~ l