THREE MODERN CARTWRIGHTS 
templating his ragged hunting suit and two 
weeks’ beard in dismay, while I courageously 
descended to the salon in my alittle less ragged 
khakies. Our host wore green corduroy knicker- 
bockers, silk stockings and pumps, the ladies 
were becomingly attired in delicate white 
material of Parisian and not Labrador make, 
when my friend sailed into the room with 
great dignity in his flannel shirt sleeves and 
ancient ‘“‘ fluffy ’’ leather waistcoat. He con- 
fessed to me afterwards that the anguish of 
deciding between a shrunken, stained and torn 
shooting jacket on the one hand and shirt 
sleeves on the other was intense, but the 
‘“‘ fluffy’ leather waistcoat turned the scale 
in favour of the latter unpardonable costume. 
However, we endeavoured to make up for the 
poverty of our clothes by the elegance of our 
conversation, and we drank the health of the 
madame and Ja belle soeur in the red wine of 
sunny France with carefully chosen phrases 
from our little dictionary. I could not help 
thinking of the tramps in Erminie. A five 
course dinner with all the “ frills’? on the 
Labrador coast was certainly a surprise. 
The third in this triumvirate of men of 
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