MR. TIBBALS eased the car in toward the curb precisely midway between two white-painted diagonal parking lines in front of the Main Street Superfood Mart. He put his head out the window and glanced alertly fore and aft, checking the line of his running board with the left-hand parking line to make sure he was coming in parallel.By SEYMOUR WINSLOW
THE LITTLE Norwegian town of Narvik, with about 10,000 inhabitants, lies 135 miles north of the Arctic Circle and about thirty miles up the winding Ofot Fiord, which opens onto the wider Vest Fiord between the Lofoten Islands and the mainland.By Taffrail
HER VOICE was tense. “Oh, has it, Slim?” He looked at her. Her heart began to pound. And then his gaze went to the road that wound away along the cliff. “It has! Who knows? Maybe there is an El Dorado and we’ve found the way. We may be making history.”By ALLAN SWINTON
ON A NIGHT like this, Luke Bantry could feel smugly sure that he wouldn’t be seen. Rain was drumming on the beach and the shore palms made a dripping curtain. Bantry stepped out from his own trading store into the downpour. Through the rain-splashed dark he saw a single light well down the beach, and he knew it came from the Quinn Company, Ltd.By ALLAN VAUGHAN ELSTON
SIR ERNEST MACMILLAN is the only symphonic conductor in the world who has been fingerprinted by the police, photographed full-face and profile, and then hurled into prison to serve four years amid uncomfortable surroundings ! He is also theonly symphonic conductor in the world whose face was once stepped on by a horse !By ANGUS McSTAY
WHEN THIS war is over, don’t start talking to a member of the Canadian Active Service Force about the life of a gypsy and the joys of the open road. Because Canadian soldiers in this country know all about it—they live just like gypsies. The next time spot a at the side The next time you spot a gypsy camp at the side of a Canadian road with tents, campfires and wagons hidden away in the trees, just think of McNaughton’s Men.By J. F. SANDERSON
ONE DAY recently Mr. Churchill approached the end of an important and heartening speech in the House of Commons. He had scored a great success, and he knew it. He had told a splendid story in noble language. How would he end the speech? I wondered if he would bring the full voluptuousness of language to paint a glowing sunset.By Beverley Baxter's
FLYING pigskins once again fill the bracing autumn air over Canadian gridirons as the 1940 football season is ushered in over all sections of the Dominion. Not even the dark shadow of Hitler’s war can shake the firm resolve and determination of Canadian sportsmen that sports shall be proceeded with as usual.By J. NORVIL MARKS
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.