56 NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder 
RED CROSS AND FRENCH WOUNDED WORK- 
ROOMS 
(Continued from Page 8) 
Patch of East Gloucester is in charge. Bass Rocks 1s 
forming a branch which will meet at the home of the 
chairman, Mrs. Charles Scott, Jr. Many have been doing 
work at home as individuals. Eastern Point has a branch 
supervised by Mrs. Charles Stewart. Prominent in this 
are Mmes. John Clay, John Greenough, J. Murray Kay, 
A. W. Pollard, J. H. Sleeper, A. G. Leonard, H. A. Ray- 
mond, Wm. Sheafe and others. These branches send 
their supplies into the Gloucester central work-room. 
Gloucester has long supported two Red Cross visiting 
nurses. ‘lwo classes in First Aid are in progress at the 
District Nurse association in which Mmes. Wm. Sheaf, 
Wm. Attwood and Isaac Patch and Miss Martha Brooks 
are interested. This association and the new members of 
the Red Cross, Miss Brooks the chairman, have jointly 
planned to send military relief supplies to our soldiers. 
On the Fourth $137 was collected for the Gloucester boys. 
Miss Louisa Loring of Pride’s Crossing addressed the. 
members last W ednesday. 
In Rockport a Special Aid Society has been organ- 
ized by Mrs. W. W. Campbell. They were addressed 
recently by Mrs. Thorndike D. Howe of East Gloucester 
and Lawrence. Work is also being done in Bay View 
under Mrs. J. J. Vernon. 
TALES OF STORY-BOOK MARBLEHEAD 
(Continued from Page 10) 
old beach claims the quaint title and scorns the implied 
odium as if to say, “What’s in a name.” 
Tue FisHeRMAID PRINCESS 
And now that we have satisfied your curiosity re- 
garding this odd name we will tell you a real fairy story 
that began here in old Barnegat, the heroine of which 
played, aye, and worked, too, right here on Fisherman's 
Beach. 
There on your right is Fountain Park, a huge pile 
of rock, grass-grown and uneven, ‘with the solid, “brown 
stone poking out here and there as if resentful of kindly 
Nature’s efforts to cover its bareness. Let us climb over 
to the other side, where on a grassy plateau ovelooking 
Little Harbor and the wide, restless sea, a little white 
house marks the sit of Fountain Inn, the town’s hospitable 
hostelry in the long ago Colonial days. Hetesstsis said. 
were held many of “the indignation meetings that followed 
the arbitrary rulings of Great Britain, and here the 
gentry of the colony resorted when business brought 
them to the town. It is said, too, that pirates and 
smugglers received friendly shelter beneath its roof. 
sut, be that as it may, old Fountain Inn stands for us as 
the scene of our fairy story. 
One day in the far away Autumn of 1742 a coach 
and four drove over the dusty road from Boston town 
» the door of the Fountain Inn. The late afternoon 
sunshine streamed in through the wide, hospitable en- 
trance, and a girl of sixteen in a worn, outgrown dress 
and without shoes or stockings, turned from her task 
of washing the stairs that led to the upper story and 
regarded the new arrival with undisguised interest. Visit- 
ing gentry from neighboring towns were not infrequent 
to the inn, but a gall: ant prot the distant Boston, 
such a handsome one, at that, in fine lace and velvet and 
gleaming silver buckles, was an unaccustomed sight in 
the rough little town. Small wonder then that the 
answers to his questions, made in the uncouth dialect of 
and - 
“July 14, 1916. 
the fishermen, were stammering and punctuated with awe. 
But the musical voice made the homely speech charming 
and the beautiful eyes and exquisite face of the speaker 
held Sir Harry Frankland fascinated and forgetful. of 
her shabby attire until, embarrassed, she turned again 
to her unfinished scrubbing. Then he pressed a coin into 
her damp, workhardened hand and bidding her buy shoes, 
made his way to the inn bar. 
It was a red letter day for simple, little Agnes Sur- 
riage, but she was too much a child and too unfamiliar 
with fairy tales to dream of a knight who came riding. 
Sir Harry transacted the business incident to his 
position as Collector of the Port of Boston and drove 
away the next day. Mayhap, a vision of a lovely girl 
in mean attire, all unconscious of her loveliness, came 
and went in his dreaming during that long ride back to 
town; but down on the beach, simple, little Ag Sur- 
riage told to the children of the fisherfolk the glowing — 
story of his coming and showed the coin that he had 
given her to buy shoes, with only wonder and joy at the 
generosity of the stranger and with never a dream that 
he might come riding again. 
But he did, for his business was to superintend the 
building of old Fort Sewall, just there across Little 
Harbor. He arrived after sunset one day the following 
week and the inn floor and stairs showed traces of a 
recent scrubbing, but the scrubber was not in sight. 
It was not until the next morning that Sir Harry 
again saw Agnes. He had awakened to the sound of 
singing and as he listened he became aware that the voice 
was of a rare and unusual quality, for his lordship was 
a cultured gentleman and an authority in musical matters. 
He went to the window that overlooked the inn yard 
and saw the singer busily engaged in drawing a brim- 
ming bucket of water from the well. For a few moments 
her voice was muffled, then as she turned and came 
towards the inn, the melody rang clear again and he 
recognized the little scrub- girl. Her face was as bright 
as the morning and the water from her bucket splashed 
unheeded on her bare feet and ankles as she made her way 
across the inn yard. 
Although the hour was early, Sir Harry made a 
hasty toilet and as soon as he was down stairs he must 
needs have speech with Agnes. She came, blushing with 
embarrassment. He asked first why she had failed to 
buy the shoes for which he had provided and she dropped 
him a shy curtsey and replied that she had bought them 
but was keeping them to wear to meeting. His eager 
searching questions bewildered her and the disfiguring 
dialect made her stammering answers quite unintelligible, 
so he finally dismissed her and sought enlightenment 
from the proprietor of the inn. He learned that she 
was the daughter of Edward Surriage, a fisherman, that 
there were several children and that there was no like- 
lihood that Agnes would receive advantages of any kind. 
Sir Harry’s was a kindly nature and his heart ached 
for the isolation of her loveliness and her exquisite voice, 
and after much parleying, into which the minister en- 
tered, the parents of Agnes became convinced of the 
great opportunity open to her, and Fragkland was al- 
lowed to become her guardian and to take her to Boston 
to be educated. 
Can’t you imagine the stir in these crooked, little 
streets that long ago day? Can’t you see the excitement 
in the humble fisherman’s home; the great coach drawn 
up before the door and surrounded by noisy urchins 
and awestruck neighbors; the bewildered, little fisher- 
maid bidding goodbye to her weeping mother, her stolid 
father and the brothers and sisters ‘crowding around 
for a last embrace? It must have seemed a dream toa 
