WITH the exception of new mining areas, and the fevered excitement usually attending their development, perhaps no part of Canada has attracted public attention so generally, and certainly none has kept that interest so well sustained over a period of years, as has the Peace River country.By CHARLES W. FREDERICK
In your December 1 number I read with pleasure your remarks about the “penal prison” that the Peace River country is to an Englishman or Scotsman. I have pioneered all my lifetime, and have two homesteads to my credit, and papers in my desk for the third one, and I claim to know whereof I speak.
WHEN Cuthbert Cowburn entered this vale of tears he brought with him undeniable evidence of his Cowburn lineage. Every admiring relative in turn glanced at the pink knob aligned with his feeder and exclaimed, “The little darling! He’s got the Cowburn nose!” It was the Cowburn nose, and it had skipped the third generation to alight on Cuthbert’s visage as if repentant.By WILL R. BIRD
MICHAEL BRENT was very comfortable. He could hear the snow slashing against the window panes beyond the heavy velvet curtains, but a cheerful blaze crackled in the fireplace and he lounged at ease in an overstuffed chair, clad in pyjamas and dressing gown, his slippered feet upon a hassock, a cigar between his teeth, a book in his hands and a highball on the table at his elbow.By LESLIE MCFARLANE
WHEN the barque Pendragon had been manoeuvred by the puffing, noisy steamer into her berth at the North Market Wharf, and the stevedores had begun their work of unlading the chests of fragrant tea, the bags of coffee beans, the tobaccos and spices that the Pendragon had collected in ports from Bahia to Batavia, young Hereward Vroom, who had been her master on that long voyage, climbed the ladder and went ashore.By LOUIS ARTHUR CUNNINGHAM
THE Duke of York looked forward to his Australian tour in H. M. S. Ophir with much pleasure. He knew that he would see again many of the places he had visited on the Bacchante when a boy, but with what a difference! Now he had his wife by his side, and he longed to be able to show her all the sights that he had enjoyed in boyhood.By RICHARD DENT
FEBRUARY, 1927. The Gulf of Alaska. Snow swirling thickly on a southeast gale. The schooner Scandia, laboring in night and heavy seas. It is dark in the pilot house, save for a spot of light, on the dancing compass. The face of a man at the wheel is tinged with the glow.By SAM L. SIMPSON
AS TO sound, there is no more distance. The world is a small room in which people talk. On the third Tuesday of last January, His Majesty King George the Fifth drove to the House of Lords at Westminster, and there welcomed the delegates to the Naval Disarmament Conference.By FREDERICK EDWARDS
IF YOU take a boat out of Macassar, or even Singapore —almost any boat will serve, but you are more likely to find your quarry on one of the lumbering old Dutchcommanded tramps that ply up and down those seas picking up scrap cargoes of sago and copra—if you take such a boat and make yourself familiar with the captain, you are pretty sure to hear tales of one or the other of them; the people who have drifted, through channels of all imaginable deviousness, to fantee about the islands.By R. V. GERY
PICKING up his oval pads with dainty deliberation, he came out of a clump of tangled cedar, triangular ears erect, white-tipped brush extended stiff. Through a white world of silence he passed like a dream, and crossing thin spaces in the woods, the winter sunlight struck the glossy black of his coat, converting it to sleek, shining ebony that rippled into living waves with every pulsation of the wild body beneath.By ALAN SULLIVAN
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