The story so far—Lewis Barr, on vacation in the woods of Northern Ontario, is arrested by three mystifying messages that have been scratched in the snow! ‘To the Rescue’, ‘I love You’ and a third couched in classical Greek. Following these clues, Barr is led to a young, boyish girl, whom he finds endeavoring to chloroform a trapped, mink.By ROBERT E. PINKERTON
A QUESTIONING look came into the man’s eyes as he caught a glimpse of his own bearded image in a section of broken mirror on the wall of the spurred-out box car which served as telegraph office and living quarters for the night operator at Windy Ridge on the V.&P. Railroad in British Columbia.By LEO F. CREAGAN
WHEN Joan Foster paid for her glass of milk and her two breakfast rolls she had left in her purse exactly one penny. In London, for that humble coin, one may ride a not inconsiderable way on the bus. The distance from where she breakfasted to Covent Garden is only a mile and a half by way of St. James Park, so Jean, having no idea where another penny was to come from, decided to walk.By LLEWELLYN HUGHES
IF YOU have a friend in Dawson, or Aklavik, or Timbuctoo, and desire to wish him well, you write a letter, stamp it and drop it in the post. That is all. The further adventures of your letter, whether under the Aurora Borealis behind a steaming dog team, or aboard a swaying, grunting camel caravan over the Sahara Desert, do not cause you a thought.By NORMAN REILLY RAINE
AT SO early an hour as this, Mr. Richard Duffy was usually in his hammock under a mosquito net on the verandah of his bungalow. But this morning the sun had hardly thrust its burnished rim up over the eastern horizon when the pyjamaed figure had first stirred in the hammock and next slipped to the verandah floor.By Louis KAYE
TOWARD the end of a pleasant winter afternoon I had stepped from a train and was passing through the station toward a street-car, homeward-bound, when I was addressed by a gentleman who informed me that he held a warrant for my arrest. He was accompanied by an assistant whose business probably it was to ensure that I should make no trouble.By WILLIAM ALLEN BURNS
FOR a few months after marrying, Chris Calcut was very happy; perhaps as happy as he was destined to be. The thought of Estella waiting for him in the kitchen, as he walked through the supper odors, the yard silenced of fowl and stock for the night, was more than pleasant, more still, than daily food of contentment.By RAYMOND KNISTER
THE title of this article is taken from the old French-Canadian song ‘Envoyons d’l’avant, nos gens! or ‘Send Her On Along!’ No song in the repertory of French-Canada better represents in its aptness, its harmony and its popularity, the close connection between the songs and the lives of the FrenchCanadian people than does this one.By GEORGE PEARSON
WHO is there who has not heard of the story of Paul Revere, hero of the American revolution, and of his midnight ride from Boston to alarm the countryside of the march of the British regulars from that city towards Concord? His exploit has stirred poets and fired the imagination of artists; towns, schools, public buildings and patriotic associations have gratefully adopted his name, paying tribute to his endeavor.By B. A. McKELVIE
NOW is the time when, having prepared the house for summer, we are ready to devote ourselves to the garden. I have often thought, when I have been going into the intricacies of that other art, interior decoration, that there should be a parallel art for gardens called exterior decoration.By ANNE ELIZABETH WILSON
The story you want is part of the Maclean’s Archives. To access it, log in here or sign up for your free 30-day trial.
Experience anything and everything Maclean's has ever published — over 3,500 issues and 150,000 articles, images and advertisements — since 1905. Browse on your own, or explore our curated collections and timely recommendations.WATCH THIS VIDEO for highlights of everything the Maclean's Archives has to offer.