October 1, 1947

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LONDON LETTER

Mr. Micawber and the Crisis

A FEW DAYS ago I paused by the banks of Loch Lomond and watched the reluctant sun give way to twilight. The world and its troubles seemed thousands of miles away and one was at peace with life. Nature still proclaims its law of beauty even in this harsh scorched earth era. By BEVERLEY BAXTER9 min

Fiction

THE BLUE STONE

THE PROBLEM was who was going to marry my sister, and it was an old problem by the time the blue stone appeared. Kate is tall and lithe and brown and two years younger than I. She’s far better-looking than the rest of the family, and had so long a procession of suitors that I had forgotten the names and the faces of the first ones. By RODERICK LULL19 min

MAILBAG

"This Isn’t Utopia, Mr. McMillan’’

I cannot resist the impulse to write to you in connection with Richard D. Am Quitting the Old World’’ McMillan’s “Why I (Maclean’s, Aug. 15). . . .With your permission I would like to spike the impression his article gives that, in coming to Canada, he is coming to a Utopian paradise.

September 151947