The story: In the South American republic of Sao Pedro, the Honorable Larry Odell falls instantly in love with Daryl Forsythe, beautiful daughter of President Pacheco, and, refusing to recognize any such word as “impossible." determines to win her despite the announcement that she is about to wed a wealthy and elderly Englishman named Clive Lattimer.By ROLAND PERTWEE
TO SEE the Côte d'Azur in perfection you must see it looking westward from Bordighera, where I am writing this. A hundred miles of coast line, brilliant and burning in the sun as in the days of Tiberius, it stretches from Mentone to the far-off Esterelle mountains— violet and maquis scented, beaten upon by the same old azure sea, and possessed by the same old demons that possessed the world when the mason’s trowels were clinking on the tower of Augustus, whose ruins you still can see above the city of Monte Carlo.By H. DE VERE STACPOOLE
LET us look in for a moment at the St. Peter's Club, aristocratic forum of the city’s most distinguished gentlemen; into the long lounge where the oak panelling and leather-covered chesterfields carry one away from the hurry and noise of the street outside and create an atmosphere of relaxation and peace.By JOHN RHODES STURDY
MR. GENTRY came briskly through the dock gates, suitcase in An ancient mariner, apparently the watchman, sat on an upturned barrel just inside, regarding the bustle about him with rheumy and misanthropic eyes. Mr. Gentry looked round for a second and then addressed “Where’s the Barracuda lying, dad?”By R. V. GERY
A GUST of wind sent the rain dashing against the window like hail. “Don’t you think that perhaps you’d better not go out this morning, dear?” said Mrs. Grey. “Oh, no, mother darling,” answered her daughter. “This isn’t anything to stay home for.”By ELISABETH SANXAY HOLDING
ONCE upon a time I knew a pilot and he looked his part; that is to say, he looked as if he had slipped out of a story by W. W, Jacobs. He was red-faced, he had a goatee, he wore a peaked cap, he swore nautically, and his capacity for beer coincided precisely with my capacity to pay for it.By ARTHUR LOWE
THE great mass of human beings absorbed in the toils, cares and activities of life, are only dimly conscious of the pace at which mankind has begun to travel. We look back a hundred years and see that great changes have taken place. We look back fifty years and see that the speed is constantly quickening.By RT. HON. WINSTON CHURCHILL
WE WERE alone in the smoking room when Comberwell pushed back his glasses, glanced over the top of the paper he was reading and said: “Do you remember Gilson?” “Gilson?” I searched back. “A member here?” “Yes—twenty years ago.” "You don’t happen to mean the Gilson-Octavius?”By ALAN SULLIVAN
SAY you have ten to fifteen thousand people jammed in a rink watching a National League hockey game. There are in that crowd just two men whose slant on the play is entirely different from that of all the rest. They are the trainers. They know more about the individual players of their respective teams than anyone else in the rink, including the managers.
THE pain that Mr. Thorpe says Toronto gives him is evidently too acute to be borne in silence. Such suffering as he revealed in the November 1 Maclean’s calls for a quick remedy. Let’s try a mind cure. To be well hated is a surer index of power than to be well loved.By WILLIAM ARTHUR DEACON
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.