8 NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder 
Patricia 
By HELEN CHRISTENE HOERLE 
6OHTEY THERE,” called Mr. Anderson McKay to the 
fisherman on the bank below, as he gazed rue- 
fully at the distance which separated them, “Hey, how 
can I get down there?” 
“Climb,” answered the fisherman without turning his 
head. 
Mr. McKay didn’t know whether to laugh or frown. 
“How ?” 
“By using your hands and feet. ‘That is the only 
way I know,” suggested the other pertly, but with a sug- 
gestion of laughter in the clear voice. 
Anderson swore softly, “Really but I don’t see how.” 
“Use your eyes and you might see a rope ladder.” 
Mr. McKay looked quickly around and espied a rope 
ladder dangling from the cliff. “May I come down?” he 
called. 
“T should worry,” laughed the fisherman. 
The man was interested and chagrinned at the atti- 
tude of the lone fisherman, so carefully lowering his rod, 
he climbed down the ladder and strode wrathfully toward 
the lithe figure on the bank. 
“That’s a nice way to treat a fellow fisherman,” he 
growled. 
“Ves,” the laconic fisherman turned and Anderson 
found himself gazing into a pair of the bluest blue eyes 
he had ever seen. 
“What on earth are you doing here?” 
in astonishment. 
The girl’s blue eyes flashed merrily and her lips 
parted in a radiant smile, “Fishing.” 
“T know that, but a girl,” he bellowed. 
“Don’t yell so,’ the girl commanded, shortly, bait- 
ing and casting her line, “I’m not deaf, besides you'll 
scare the fishes. If you want to stay here, please keep 
still. I have big orders to fill to-day and must- make a 
good catch.” 
McKay stared open mouthed at the speaker. Orders? 
Catch? What was she talking about? Unconsciously 
obeying her, he silently baited and cast his line, stealing 
many surreptitious glance at the figure at his side, dur- 
ing the operation. A charming profile was turned to him, 
and Anderson could just catch a glimpse of the startling 
blue eyes. Her healthy red lips were parted in excite- 
ment and displayed two rows of dazzling white teeth, 
whiter by contrast with the nut brown of her skin. An- 
derson felt sure that her hair was brown too, but it was 
completely hidden by the old felt hat pulled down on her 
head. She wore a pair of khaika trousers much the same 
as McKay himself wore—tucked into a pair of rubber 
boots, a soft gray shirt fastened at the throat with a vivid 
blue tie, while a disreputable tweed coat completed her 
unusual costume. Quietly she continued to fish, not a 
whit disturbed by McKay’s scrutiny, and seemingly un- 
conscious of the unconventionality of her attire. Finally 
McKay broke the silence, unable to resist the pleasure 
of hearing the girl’s sweet voice again. 
“Great fishing here. Splendid little nook, isn’t it?” 
The girl nodded. 
Anderson swallowed hard, and after a minute tried 
again, “Fishing is great sport, isn’t it?” 
“Sport?” she turned on him like a small fury, her 
eyes blazing like two electric sparks, “Sport? Killing poor 
harmless, defenseless, fish, sport?” 
“Well, aren’t you?” poor McKay began, crest-fallen. 
“J supply the hotel and summer people with fish; 
he demanded 
it’s a means of livelihood, nota sport with me. “Her lip 
curled derisively, and she closed her mouth with a snap. 
To say the least Mr. McKay was ashamed and real- 
ized the enormity of the crime he had committed. ‘The 
girl’s head was turned away. Evidently it was up to him 
to make amends or silent ‘treatment was to be his punish- 
ment. Suddenly Anderson found that he was more than 
passingly interested in the girl. 
“Really,” he began contritely, “I didn’t mean that 
fishing was a sport, | merely wanted to—to talk.” 
‘Two dimples appeared in the girl’s cheeks, and her 
lips quivered; then unable to restrain herself, she laughed 
merrily, “Oh, that is so funny. You are so delightfully 
frank. J forgive you.” Slowly she reeled in her line, 
glancing sideways at McKay. | “Guess I have about 
enough for to-day.” 
“Can't I help?” Anderson offered, as the girl began 
to string the fish, working quickly, dexterously, without a 
useless movement. 
“Tf you care to.” 
Without a word the man was on his knees, his big 
capable hands working as quickly but not as dexterously as 
hers. “May I offer you my catch?” gazing at the mess 
of pickerel at his feet. . 
“Tf you don’t need it,’ she demurred. 
“T don’t need anything but a little peace,” McKay 
growled, wondering what the deuce he could say, that 
would draw the girl into conversation. 
“Peace,” the girl echoed, “I‘m going now,” she add- 
ed, her eyes twinkling wickedly, “then you can have all 
the peace you desire.” 
“Don’t mistake meagain,” ~ ble’ pleadedWmeeWetcuctt 
down here and rest for a few minutes, it’s blazing hot in 
the sun; please,’ he begged, as she hesitated. 
For answer she sank down on the bank and leaned 
against a big boulder, motioning him to a place at her 
feet. ‘The man sprawled at full length beside and looked 
up into her face. Patricia had to acknowledge that it 
was a good face to look at, and the clear brown eyes 
were wonderfully frank. Oddly enough, for the first 
time since their unconventional meeting, she felt ill at 
ease. 
“Do you know,” he said suddenly, “you are the most 
bewitching creature in those togs.” 
She glanced seemingly unconcerned at the stained 
trousers, though a warm flush mounted her cheeks. 
“They’re more comfortable for fishing than skirts.” 
“But must you fish?” 
“Well, not exactly, but I must eat. There is nothing 
T could do here to support myself, and I must regain my 
strength so I can go back to Boston in the fall. Now 
tell me why you need nothing but a little peace, lucky 
man,” she teased. The man frowned. ‘Please forgive 
me,” she pleaded, “I didn’t mean to be rude.” 
He smiled his forgiveness and then sat, gazing out 
on the tiny pool. The girl noted that his hands, clasped 
tightly around his knees, were strong and white, and his 
face worked strangely. She put out her hand to touch 
him, then drew back quickly as he turned and faced her. 
“May I tell you about myself,’ he questioned. 
Patricia nodded, not trusting herself to speak. This 
big man had a strange effect on her; she wanted to make 
him like her, to keep him with her, to hear him talk. 
Patricia didn’t realize that she was falling in love with 
the stranger, 
