Sept. 8, 1916. 
Tue Boston & Marne has finally reached the hands 
of a receiver and will be operated under the laws of the 
courts. It will grant an opportunity for the courts to 
clear the slate and put the road back upon its feet. There 
is no questioning the possibilities of the Boston & Maine 
Railroad. They have an equipment that can be thorough- 
ly perfected. It has a road bed of many miles in a terri- 
tory unrivaled in America. There is no reason why this 
should not be the end of the Boston & Maine’s difficulties 
and the beginning of a new era of prosperity and eff- 
ciency. 
Tuere Have Been More Tourtsts on the North 
Shore during the last two months than duting any other 
period in the history of the Shore. The roads have never 
been in such good condition and weather conditions, espe- 
cially since the first of August, have been excellent. The 
hundreds living within a fifty mile radius of the Shore 
have been frequently upon our North Shore roads. There 
has been an unusual, almost a phenomenal number of 
tourists from distant points. The number of name plates 
of cars coming from without the state has become so great 
that even the children have not found the novelty in 
noting them as in the earlier days of automobiling. The 
hotels and cottages have been full. All records have 
been surpassed and despite the complications involved 
by the railroad difficulties there will not be a marked 
difference in the conditions on the Shore during the 
Right 
N impression prevails, which is quite general, that 
motorists using main thoroughfares have what is call- 
ed a “right of way” over users of intersecting subsidiary 
streets. This is erroneous. The law of Massachusetts, 
and many other States is:—“Each user of a highway, 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder 39 
next month and one-half. ‘The prevalence of infantile 
paralysis in many parts of the country has contributed its 
part and the absence of that dread disease anywhere on 
the Shore has made it attractive. There has never been 
a bonafide case of infantile paralysis on the Shore in 
years. The fall will bring with it its usual number of 
tourists. Every year sees a lengthened season and every- 
one is happy in the enjoyment of the pleasures of the best 
part of the whole year. 
THE RevoLrt oF Guy NorMAN against the Repub- 
lican State machine of Rhode Island is one of the signifi- 
cant contests of the national campaign. His fight to free 
the political life of his congressional district from the 
blight of bossism reflects the spirit of the whole public 
service of Mr. Hughes. No wonder the latter is unwill- 
ing to enter Rhode Island before the primaries. He 
could not complicate his own candidacy by taking sides in 
a primary contest, and he could not be neutral in the face 
of the fight Mr. Norman is making to restore represent- 
tative government and rid the electorate 0. _.s own com- 
munity from the subsidized domination of a political dic- 
tator. We wish Mr. Norman well in his fight for Con- 
gress. If he is nominated he will be elected. When Mr. 
tughes is in the White House he will need co-workers 
in Congress like Mr. Norman to help him in his crusade 
in the nation against “pork barrel patriots” and crooked 
politicians.—Boston Transcript. 
of Way 
whether on foot, or driving a wagon, automobile or street 
car, is bound to use due care to avoid coming into con- 
tact with the other, and neither is entitled to assume that 
the other will keep out of his way.” 
I Love the Old New England Woods 
(A Summer Idyl) 
By ROBERT MILNE 
LOVE the old New England woods, 
The stately pine trees tall, 
The maple and the silver birch, 
I dearly love them all. 
And often in the summer time 
I long to stray from home, 
To wander through those leafy aisles 
Where cooling zephyrs roam; 
To listen to the wild bird’s call, 
And watch the squirrels play. 
Or see the chipmunk frisk around 
In all his colors gay. 
Perhaps a fawn, with melting gaze, 
May browze along the glade; 
Or with her young lie down to rest 
Within the noonday shade. 
And I, too, on the grassy sward, 
Will stretch my limbs to rest. 
No care upon my placid brow, 
3y summer breeze caressed. 
And I will dream of days gone by, 
When in this sylvan glade, 
Full many an Indian lover brave 
Made love to Indian maid. 
Before the Pilgrim touched our shores, 
And all was peace around— 
The sighing of the summer breeze, 
Perhaps the only sound— 
And as the youth, his heart, laid bare, 
When young love’s tale was told, 
They sealed their vows—this Indian maid, 
And Indian lover bold. 
Oh could these woodlands only speak, 
And all their secrets tell— 
Of feathered chief in days of old 
And comely Indian belle! 
What stirring tales they would unfold 
Of deeds of daring done, 
When youthful brave fought warrior bold 
Before the maid was won. 
‘Tis thus I spend my holiday 
Afar from city throng, 
And as the hours go flitting by 
I hear the wild bird’s song. 
And so I love New England woods 
When summer time is here, 
For in the heart of nature’s child 
The call is always clear. 
