CHAPTER XI-

A LEGEND OF GENERAL WOLFE

We hear legends in Miminegash, and meet General Wolfe disembark- ing. We remember Carey, visit a traveller’s grave, see the phantom ship at West Point, and visit O'Leary's Old Curiosity Shop.

HE Island coast changes its mood from time to

I time. At Stanhope, at Bedeque, and at Mon-

tague, it is in a friendly festive spirit with low banks and an abundance of soft red sand. It is strictly feminine. It is the shore for swarms of young children, and for sun-bathers. It is the childhood and evening of coasts. It is safe and delightful—and unexciting.

There is the extremely opposite coast. It is the shore with high, bleak c1iffs——defiant and rugged. It is self-confident and daring. It is determination personified.

Such are the shore lines—reflections, perhaps, of the types which live near them; or more likely, influences on those people. Cavendish tries to be both—— conscious, perhaps, of its inclusion in the National Park area.

The shores of north-western Prince are high, and ever changing. For everywhere they are crumbling

crumbling . . . The eastern coast, up Tignish way, is crumbling away at the rate of fifteen to thirty feet a year. In a few million years, perhaps, the Island will be no more. But deep beneath the waves of the Gulf the little hamlets and groves of stately birch will sleep with happy memories of the long ago; of the days when Patterson, and Margaret

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