Over the Border: Acadia, the Home of "Evangeline" Part 9

"L'ISLE DES MONTS DESERTS."

(A LETTER BY THE WAY.)

"Beautiful Isle of the Sea!"

When we said, "Let us go to Mt. Desert," Joe gave us Punch's advice on marriage: "Don't!" Sue said. "It has lost half its charms by becoming so fashionable;" and Hal added, as an unanswerable argument, "You'll not be able to get enough to eat." As to his veracity on this subject we cannot vouch, though we can testify to his voracity, and mischievously throw a quotation at him:--

"The turnpike to men's hearts, I find, Lies through their mouths, or I mistake mankind."

Despite such discouragements, being naturally obstinate, go we do; and here we are in the most refreshingly primitive and unfashionable abiding place, the domicile commanding a view which cannot be equaled by any public house on the island. From the piazzas and our windows the eye never tires of gazing on the beautiful bay with its numerous islands,--a charming picture, with the blue and symmetrical range of Gouldsboro' hills for background. From a point not far back of the house, the eye ranges from the head of Frenchman's Bay out to the broad ocean; while a retrospective view takes in the wild mountainous region of the interior of this lovely isle.

We arrive at a fortunate time. For a long while previous Nature had persistently enveloped her face in a veil, giving an air of mystery which the summer guests did not appreciate. The skipper of the yacht which conveys us when we circ.u.mnavigate the island tells us "there is a fog factory near by," a statement which, for a few days, we are inclined to credit. The nabobs of Newport, the Sybarites of Nahant, and even the commonplace rusticators at other sh.o.r.e resorts have been served in the same manner, however; so we sympathize with them fully, and with them exult at the final dissolution of the vapors, as the gray curtain gradually lifts and rolls away, its edge all jagged as if torn by the lance-like tips of fir and spruce trees as it swept over them. These n.o.ble hills are densely wooded, but not with the forest giants one sees among the White Mountains; and when I express my surprise thereat, I am told that fifty or sixty years ago the greater part of the island was denuded by fire, so that remains of the primeval forest can only be found in distant spots not easily accessible. Notices are now posted in the woods at various points, by which "visitors are earnestly requested to extinguish all fires which they may light, and not to strip the bark from the birches."

In our inland excursions the rugged mountains, with their storm scarred, rocky summits, wild ravines, and forest embedded bases, so constantly suggest the grand scenery of New Hampshire that we can hardly realize that we are anywhere near the sea. Then, on a sudden turn of the road, a broad stretch of ocean--blue, sparkling, and sail dotted, framed in graceful birches, feathery larches, and dark pines--comes upon us as a surprise.

The peculiar vehicle which is here known as a "buckboard" we find a comfortable conveyance, with a motion which seems a combination of see-saw and baby-jumper. The "body" is composed of four long boards laid side by side, supported only at the extreme ends where they are hung over the axles. The seats are in the middle. They are neither elegant nor graceful, but easy, "springy" vehicles, which, having neither sides nor top covers, give unimpeded views, and are excellent for sight seeing, though not precisely the thing for rainy weather.

Canoeing is a favorite amus.e.m.e.nt; and in the management of these light and graceful boats many of the summer guests become quite expert. The motion suggests that of a gondola, A catamaran scoots about the harbor among the islands; tiny steamers, sailing craft of all kinds, are seen; and sometimes United States training ships sail majestically into the bay and drop anchor, giving a finishing touch to the picture.

Skippers are very cautious, and frequently will not allow their canoes or other boats to go out, although it may appear perfectly safe to the uninitiated. Visitors rarely have any idea what sudden "flaws" and gusts of air are caused by the position of and openings between the mountains; and when these, as well as the tidal swell and currents of the ocean about the sh.o.r.e, have to be studied, navigation becomes scientific.

The arrival of the steamer is the great event of the day; and on Sunday, after morning service, the b.u.t.terflies of fashion flit to the pier to see the landing of pa.s.sengers. It is rather embarra.s.sing for weary travelers to be obliged to "run the gauntlet" as they pa.s.s through the gay throng, for every one stares with all his might. This does not seem to be considered rude here, and every one is met by a "battery of eyes;"

I presume because each person expects, if he remain here through the season, to meet every one whom he ever knew.

The yachting and tennis costumes which are worn here would certainly cause many of the sober residents of the Quaker City to open their eyes wide with horror,--if they were able to open them, and were not blinded by the first glance. One divinity, in scarlet and white striped awning cloth, awe christen the "mint stick". And _such_ hats!--each so placed upon the head that, however huge, it is utterly useless as a shade; but as effect is what all are striving for, any other consideration is of no importance whatever. Such attire would be hooted at in some places; and we wonder that it does not strike old settlers breathless with amazement at the extravagances and follies of "these city folks". Jim quotes, "Any color so it's red," when surveying a brilliantly attired company at this place, as that aggressive hue prevails. These fantastic costumes are frequently seen in the mornings on the sh.o.r.e, where the wearers are engaged in an amus.e.m.e.nt here known as "rocking". This consists in lounging on the rocks with interesting youths, who, arrayed in picturesque yachting or tennis suits, pose artistically, and, beneath the shade of scarlet or j.a.panese umbrellas, talk of the weather, of course. Elsewhere this would be known as flirting.

We do not approve of the names of some of the public houses, and wonder that they could not have chosen more suggestive t.i.tles. The "Hotel des Isles" has a more suitable and appropriate cognomen,--if they would spell it correctly, which they invariably do not. This name is borne by descendants of the old French settlers, but is now, sad to tell, p.r.o.nounced by their contemporaries "De Sizzle". We call our house Pleasant Haven, or Restful Retreat, though it appears under a different t.i.tle in the guide book. It would never do to tell what its name "really and truly" is, lest you should think I have been engaged to "puff" it.

We have delicious bread and excellent fare; and, though this is plain, of course, all is temptingly served, and everything neat and nice enough for any one.

Our rooms are extremely plain, but neat. Closets are unknown; but on hooks along the wall on one side of the apartment we hang our garments, protecting them with chintz curtains which we brought for the purpose.

A resident of Fifth Avenue occupies the garret rooms above, having selected them from choice; and, expatiating on their advantages in quiet, air, and views, becomes an Attic Philosopher.

Occasionally we get out our fineries, and go to some "hop" or entertainment in the village, but return better satisfied with our present home; and, snapping our fingers at Mrs. Grundy, do not envy any of her votaries. If our advice were asked, we should say: "Come to one of the smaller hostelries, like this, where you can be independent and comfortable; and bring half worn winter garments, with boots ditto, to be prepared for tramping and excursions."

The excursions which can be taken I will not enumerate; will merely state that the ascent of Green Mountain, in clear weather, and the drive to Great Head are most satisfactory. On our way to the latter point we stop at Anemone Cave, where we enjoy an impromptu concert by members of Philadelphia glee clubs, the fine voices and beautiful harmonies being enhanced by the dark arch of rock and the ceaseless music of the surf, which forms a grand accompaniment.

The view from Green Mountain is quite unique, the eye traversing ocean and land for forty miles in any direction; following the singularly serrated coast of Maine, the course of Somes Sound,--that remarkable inlet from the sea which almost divides the island,--and tracing the waving line of far distant mountain ranges. The mainland is curiously cut into long rocky points and ragged peninsulas, from which the islands seem to have broken off and drifted out to sea. From this height (fifteen hundred and thirty-five feet) the ocean seems placid and smooth,--much less awe-inspiring than from the sh.o.r.e, where the surges roll in with such tremendous power, as if endeavoring to crush the towering cliffs which oppose them. The cl.u.s.tering buildings of Bar Harbor appear like a child's playthings, or Nuremberg toys; the miniature vessels like sea gulls just alighted; the white tents of the Indian encampment ludicrously suggest a laundry with big "wash" hung out to dry; and the whole scene looks as if viewed through the large end of an opera gla.s.s. It is a peaceful and beautiful picture for memory to treasure and look back upon with delight.

At Fernald's Point, at the base of Flying Mountain, two miles north of Southwest Harbor, is the supposed location of the French settlement, which was founded by a party of priests and colonists sent out from France to Port Royal (now Annapolis, Nova Scotia), who, losing their way in fog, landed here. The peaceful little community, after only a few weeks' occupancy, were routed by that grasping individual, Argall, the deputy governor of Virginia, who was detested by his own colonists for his tyranny and rapacity. That person, not content with the domains which his position ent.i.tled him to govern, cruised along the Atlantic coast, making many such incursions among the colonists. In this case, after destroying the buildings, he cruelly set adrift in an open boat fifteen of the poor, harmless people, who, after suffering great hardships, were picked up by a trading vessel and conveyed to St. Malo.

We wonder that investigations have not been made ere this at this spot, as it seems probable that old implements and objects of interest might be brought to light. How we wish we were members of the Maine Historical Society, and by that body empowered to superintend excavations at the site of a colony which was in existence (1613) seven years before the landing of the Pilgrims!

Samuel de Champlain, friend, a.s.sociate, and pilot of De Monts in the latter's investigations of his possessions in Acadia (in 1604), was sponsor of this island which has since become so famous, of which he speaks as "La grande Isle des Monts Deserts;" and by the early Lord of the Realm the whole of Frenchman's Bay was also called La Havre du Saint Sauveur. That wicked Jim says that the _Indian_ name of the island must suggest itself to some travelers on their way here, unless they come by the land route.

There are thirty-five guests in our house, who form a pleasant company; and though of course there is great diversity of taste and character shown among them, they form a harmonious a.s.sembly. In the evenings we have "sings", readings, games, and charades, frequently growing hilarious. Sedate professors, dignified divines, and learned writers enter into these sports with the zest of schoolboys on a holiday. Some of these games may be new; and that others may derive amus.e.m.e.nt for similar occasions, I will describe two of them. In one, called Comparison, the company seat themselves in a circle. Each one whispers to his right hand neighbor the name of a person (known to the company); to the one at his left, the name of an object. Then each in turn gives aloud the name which his neighbor whispered to him, and tells why he or she resembles the object, making the comparison complimentary or otherwise. The uncomplimentary comparisons are generally the most laughable, and of course all understand that 't is "all for fun", so no one takes any offence. For instance: "Mr. J. resembles the _harbor bar_, or did this morning, because there was a heavy swell rolling over him;"

the company understanding this as an allusion to a frolicsome tussle which Mr. J. had with the beau of the house. A rhyming game also affords much amus.e.m.e.nt. One person gives his neighbor a list of words,--the words ending the lines of a sonnet or part of a poem,--and the person receiving the list must fill in the lines, bringing in the words given, in proper order, at the ends of the lines. In the following instance the words italicized are the ones which the player received from his neighbor; in this case the terminal words of Longfellow's beautiful description of a calm night by the sea will be recognized, although the word "ocean" was inadvertently subst.i.tuted for "organ":--

"All the long white beach is _silent_ As a beach should ever _be_, While the sea gulls stand and _listen_ To the moaning of the _sea_, All the solemn oysters _gather_, Gazing upward to the _sky_, While a lobster breaks the _silence_, Crooning low his _litany_ Little shrimps in their dark _caverns_, Eating supper all _alone_, Looking out upon the ocean, Whispering in an _undertone_ 'Tis sad and lonely by these _beaches_, Shall we ne'er go _beyond_?'

All the barnacles, _uprising_, 'Never,' tearfully _respond_."

As we are by the sea, nautical rhymes seem to turn out naturally. The writer of this remarkable effusion is evidently not an evolutionist, though he may think there are some "queer fish" among the heterogeneous inhabitants of this island.

At last the day comes when we must turn away from these lovely scenes; and it is with regret, and many a backward look, that we are conveyed to the Rockland boat. That vessel pursues a circuitous route along the coast, among the picturesque islands; the trip suggesting quite forcibly the St. Lawrence with its Thousand Isles, as old Neptune is fortunately in amiable mood, and shows a smiling countenance. So we have no grudge to lay up against him, and only pictures tinged with _couleur-de-rose_ to carry away with us.

SEA-SIDE AMUs.e.m.e.nT IN THE "CITY OF SOLES".

As it is our custom to come to these New England sh.o.r.es every summer, in order, as Jim says, to get salted so that we may keep well through the winter (by which you need not infer that we "get into a pickle"), we commence the process at this place, before proceeding to more Northerly points.

As the "dry spell" has made the roads so dusty that there is little pleasure in driving, and our horses are at present in the stables of our _Chateaux-en-Espagne_, and consequently not available this warm evening, we gather on the porch to be entertained by the learned converse of the professors, until an approaching storm drives us in-doors. Within the "shooting box", as the young man who has traveled christens the house,-- thinking that an appropriate t.i.tle for a domicile where so many members of the Hunt family are collected,--there is a motley a.s.sembly, as they gather around the sitting room table. There are Portuguese, Michiganders, Pennites, Illinoisyones, Bangorillas, and other specimens of natural history such as would have puzzled Aga.s.siz himself; and the question arises, "What shall we do to amuse ourselves this rainy evening?" But "Pat", the engineer, oiler of the domestic machinery of the establishment, and keeper of this menagerie, seems overcome with fatigue; the Astronomer is eclipsed in a corner; the professors are absorbed in sines and co-sines; the Fisherman nods over his paper; Grandma knits her brows and the stocking; Elsie is deep in a book; and no one displays any special interest in the matter until pencils and paper are distributed for the game of Crambo. The _modus operandi_ of that most wise and learned game is as follows: Four slips of paper are given each person, on one of which he is requested to write a question, and on each of the other sc.r.a.ps a word. These are then shuffled, and all in turn draw. And now there is great commotion, for each partic.i.p.ant is expected to answer his question in rhyme, and to bring the three words which he has drawn, into his answer, also. Such a chorus of "Oh dears", and such dismayed faces! The student proposes to procure the coffee mill to a.s.sist him in grinding out his "pome"; the tennis player wishes she had a hatchet to chop up a long word which has fallen to her lot, so that she can put it in proper metre; but Mr. Short (6 ft. 2 in.), with watch in hand, calls "Time", and then "Silence", as pencils race over papers as if on a wager. Ten minutes is the brief s.p.a.ce allotted for the production of the wondrous effusions; and when Mr. S. announces, "Time's up", the hat is again full; and one says, with a sigh of relief, "There, I never made two lines rhyme in my life before;" another modestly remarks, "You needn't think we are verdant because we are in Green--"

but the warning finger of the Philosopher is raised, and Pat, the reader, begins, emphasizing the words drawn as he reads:--

"Why so much quarrelling about Religion!

It's as plain as string _beans_ That from this very means The world is not right, If I had but clear sight I might _hope_ ere this night Is _beginning_ to wane The thing to explain.

But, lacking the wit, I must e'en submit This doggerel rhyme And hope 't is in time."

"Oh! oh!" exclaimed the "small specimen" (aged ten), "that's Grandma's; I heard her say she 'knows beans', 'cause she is a Yankee;" but the S.

S. subsides on hearing the next paper read, and shows so plainly that she "wishes herself further" that it is not difficult to guess the author:--

"What's quicker than lightning?

A _Turkey_ or a squirrel Can 'cut' like a _knife_ But I never saw a creature rash Like a _deer_ in all my life."

"Good for Ten-year-old!" exclaim the chorus; and the S. S., brightening up, concludes she'll try it again sometime. Next comes the question:--

"Where do cabbages come from?

My will is good, and I _propose_ To tell you all I can In this dry time a garden hose Must come into the plan First plant the seed, and in due course Will little shoots appear, When each from other has _divorce_ They'll flourish, it is clear.

If this rhyme is worth preserving, With _mucilage_ it may be fixed On any wall deserving Such wit and wisdom mixed."

As it is well known that the natives of the Emerald Isle have a predilection for cabbages, it is unanimously decided that none but Pat could have perpetrated this; so Pat grins, suggests that a bill poster be secured at once, and proceeds:--

"How would you like to be a cat?

In _Timbuctoo_ each stern ascetic, Though blind to folly as a bat, Revels in love _peripatetic_ Which makes him nimble as a cat But though I'm fond of such agility, I better like the busy bees, For they display so much ability They 'mind one of the _Portuguese_."

At this implied compliment to his people, the black eyes of the foreign student flash approval; and the Mathematician speaks up, saying, "That is the Philosopher, sure, and proves the truth of the saying, 'A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.'" The Philosopher smiles benignantly, but does not deny the charge; and the reader continues:--

"What do you think of the Ormthorhynchus?

My brain's in a 'muss'

From thinking of this '_cuss_'

(Excuse me for using such a word).

If it lived at _Nahant_ With this heat it would pant, For surely't is a curious bird.

You may think me a 'm.u.f.f', And declare I talk stuff, But I hope you'll not doubt my word.

For though out in all weathers Its coat's not of feathers But of fur,--at least so I've heard.

But 'by this _illumination_'

(Kant's ratiocination?) 'I don't see it,' though it may seem quite absurd."