Lucy Maud Montgomery

The Golden Road

Chapter 31



It is with heartfelt regret that we take up our pen to announce that this will be the last number of Our Magazine. We have edited ten numbers of it and it has been successful beyond our expectations. It has to be discontinued by reason of circumstances over which we have no control and not because we have lost interest in it. Everybody has done his or her best for Our Magazine. Prince Edward Island expected everyone to do his and her duty and everyone did it.

Mr. Dan King conducted the etiquette department in a way worthy of the Family Guide itself. He is especially entitled to commendation because he laboured under the disadvantage of having to furnish most of the questions as well as the answers. Miss Felicity King has edited our helpful household department very ably, and Miss Cecily King’s fashion notes were always up to date. The personal column was well looked after by Miss Sara Stanley and the story page has been a marked success under the able management of Mr. Peter Craig, to whose original story in this issue, “The Battle of the Partridge Eggs,” we would call especial attention. The Exciting Adventure series has also been very popular.

And now, in closing, we bid farewell to our staff and thank them one and all for their help and co-operation in the past year. We have enjoyed our work and we trust that they have too. We wish them all happiness and success in years to come, and we hope that the recollection of Our Magazine will not be held least dear among the memories of their childhood.


On October eighteenth, Patrick Grayfur departed for that bourne whence no traveller returns. He was only a cat, but he had been our faithful friend for a long time and we aren’t ashamed to be sorry for him. There are lots of people who are not as friendly and gentlemanly as Paddy was, and he was a great mouser. We buried all that was mortal of poor Pat in the orchard and we are never going to forget him. We have resolved that whenever the date of his death comes round we’ll bow our heads and pronounce his name at the hour of his funeral. If we are anywhere where we can’t say the name out loud we’ll whisper it.

“Farewell, dearest Paddy, in all the years that are to be We’ll cherish your memory faithfully."1


My most exciting adventure was the day I fell off Uncle Roger’s loft two years ago. I wasn’t excited until it was all over because I hadn’t time to be. The Story Girl and I were looking for eggs in the loft. It was filled with wheat straw nearly to the roof and it was an awful distance from us to the floor. And wheat straw is so slippery. I made a little spring and the straw slipped from under my feet and there I was going head first down from the loft. It seemed to me I was an awful long time falling, but the Story Girl says I couldn’t have been more than three seconds. But I know that I thought five thoughts and there seemed to be quite a long time between them. The first thing I thought was, what has happened, because I really didn’t know at first, it was so sudden. Then after a spell I thought the answer, I am falling off the loft. And then I thought, what will happen to me when I strike the floor, and after another little spell I thought, I’ll be killed. And then I thought, well, I don’t care. I really wasn’t a bit frightened. I just was quite willing to be killed. If there hadn’t been a big pile of chaff on the barn floor these words would never have been written. But there was and I fell on it and wasn’t a bit hurt, only my hair and mouth and eyes and ears got all full of chaff. The strange part is that I wasn’t a bit frightened when I thought I was going to be killed, but after all the danger was over I was awfully frightened and trembled so the Story Girl had to help me into the house.

                                     FELICITY KING.


Once upon a time there lived about half a mile from a forrest a farmer and his wife and his sons and daughters and a granddaughter. The farmer and his wife loved this little girl very much but she caused them great trouble by running away into the woods and they often spent haf days looking for her. One day she wondered further into the forrest than usual and she begun to be hungry. Then night closed in. She asked a fox where she could get something to eat. The fox told her he knew where there was a partridges nest and a bluejays nest full of eggs. So he led her to the nests and she took five eggs out of each. When the birds came home they missed the eggs and flew into a rage. The bluejay put on his topcoat and was going to the partridge for law when he met the partridge coming to him. They lit up a fire and commenced sining their deeds when they heard a tremendous howl close behind them. They jumped up and put out the fire and were immejutly attacked by five great wolves. The next day the little girl was rambelling through the woods when they saw her and took her prisoner. After she had confessed that she had stole the eggs they told her to raise an army. They would have to fight over the nests of eggs and whoever one would have the eggs. So the partridge raised a great army of all kinds of birds except robins and the little girl got all the robins and foxes and bees and wasps. And best of all the little girl had a gun and plenty of ammunishun. The leader of her army was a wolf. The result of the battle was that all the birds were killed except the partridge and the bluejay and they were taken prisoner and starved to death.

The little girl was then taken prisoner by a witch and cast into a dunjun full of snakes where she died from their bites and people who went through the forrest after that were taken prisoner by her ghost and cast into the same dunjun where they died. About a year after the wood turned into a gold castle and one morning everything had vanished except a piece of a tree.

                                       PETER CRAIG.

(DAN, WITH A WHISTLE:—“Well, I guess nobody can say Peter can’t write fiction after THAT.”

SARA RAY, WIPING AWAY HER TEARS:—“It’s a very interesting story, but it ends SO sadly.”

FELIX:—“What made you call it The Battle of the Partridge Eggs when the bluejay had just as much to do with it?”

PETER, SHORTLY:—“Because it sounded better that way.”

FELICITY:—“Did she eat the eggs raw?”

SARA RAY:—“Poor little thing, I suppose if you’re starving you can’t be very particular.”

CECILY, SIGHING:—“I wish you’d let her go home safe, Peter, and not put her to such a cruel death.”

BEVERLEY:—“I don’t quite understand where the little girl got her gun and ammunition.”

PETER, SUSPECTING THAT HE IS BEING MADE FUN OF:—“If you could write a better story, why didn’t you? I give you the chance.”

THE STORY GIRL, WITH A PRETERNATURALLY SOLEMN FACE:—“You shouldn’t criticize Peter’s story like that. It’s a fairy tale, you know, and anything can happen in a fairy tale.”

FELICITY:—“There isn’t a word about fairies in it!”

CECILY:—“Besides, fairy tales always end nicely and this doesn’t.”

PETER, SULKILY:—“I wanted to punish her for running away from home.”

DAN:—“Well, I guess you did it all right.”

CECILY:—“Oh, well, it was very interesting, and that is all that is really necessary in a story.” )


Mr. Blair Stanley is visiting friends and relatives in Carlisle. He intends returning to Europe shortly. His daughter, Miss Sara, will accompany him.

Mr. Alan King is expected home from South America next month. His sons will return with him to Toronto. Beverley and Felix have made hosts of friends during their stay in Carlisle and will be much missed in social circles.

The Mission Band of Carlisle Presbyterian Church completed their missionary quilt last week. Miss Cecily King collected the largest sum on her square. Congratulations, Cecily.

Mr. Peter Craig will be residing in Markdale after October and will attend school there this winter. Peter is a good fellow and we all wish him success and prosperity.

Apple picking is almost ended. There was an unusually heavy crop this year. Potatoes, not so good.


Apple pies are the order of the day.

Eggs are a very good price now. Uncle Roger says it isn’t fair to have to pay as much for a dozen little eggs as a dozen big ones, but they go just as far.

                                     FELICITY KING.


F-l-t-y. Is it considered good form to eat peppermints in church? Ans.; No, not if a witch gives them to you.

No, F-l-x, we would not call Treasure Island or the Pilgrim’s Progress dime novels.

Yes, P-t-r, when you call on a young lady and her mother offers you a slice of bread and jam it is quite polite for you to accept it.

                                          DAN KING.


Necklaces of roseberries are very much worn now.

It is considered smart to wear your school hat tilted over your left eye.

Bangs are coming in. Em Frewen has them. She went to Summerside for a visit and came back with them. All the girls in school are going to bang their hair as soon as their mothers will let them. But I do not intend to bang mine.

                                       CECILY KING.

(SARA RAY, DESPAIRINGLY:—“I know ma will never let ME have bangs.”)


D-n. What are details? C-l-y. I am not sure, but I think they are things that are left over.

(CECILY, WONDERINGLY:—“I don’t see why that was put among the funny paragraphs. Shouldn’t it have gone in the General Information department?”)

Old Mr. McIntyre’s son on the Markdale Road had been very sick for several years and somebody was sympathizing with him because his son was going to die. “Oh,” Mr. McIntyre said, quite easy, “he might as weel be awa’. He’s only retarding buzziness.”

                                        FELIX KING.


P-t-r. What kind of people live in uninhabited places?

Ans.: Cannibals, likely.

                                        FELIX KING.

1) The obituary was written by Mr. Felix King, but the two lines of poetry were composed by Miss Sara Ray.