10 NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder 
DIGGIN GLUP.PHE ROAD 
They took a little gravel 
And they took a little tar 
With various ingredients 
Imported from afar. 
They hammered it and rolled tt, 
And when they went away 
They said they had a pavement 
That would last for many a day. 
But they came with picks and smote it 
To lay a water main; 
And then they called the workinen 
To put it back again. 
To run.an electric cable 
They took it up once more, 
And then they put it back again 
Just where it was before. 
They took it up for conduits 
To run the telephone, 
And then they put it back again 
As hard as any stone. 
They took it up for wires 
To feed the electric light 
And then they put it back again, 
Which was no more than right. 
O, the pavement’s full of furrows; 
There are patches everywhere, 
Youd like to ride upon it 
But it’s seldom that you dare, 
It's a very handsome pavement, 
A credit to the town, 
Theyre always diggin’ of it up 
Or puttin’ of it down. 
HAVE heard so many favorable comments on the new 
boulevard running through Swampscott, that I subnit 
the little poem above. Of course I know the Selectmen 
of Swampscott would never let anything like this happea 
—if they could help it, but——— 
X-X-X 
E&PEAKING of Swampscott, I had dinner at the -New 
Ocean House the other night, The dinner was excelleni, 
and the service was excellent also, but it was not that, 
that particularly attracted my attention—for one expects 
that at the New Ocean House. Neither was it the gen- 
eral cheeriness of the dining room, the brilliant lights, the 
sic and span appearance of everything, the immaculate 
whiteness of the linen, the glistening silver—and, the 
efinning costumes of the ladies. No, it was not either_of 
these—then, all of a sudden it struck me—the flowers, 
for on every table was a great bunch of Gladioli, sending 
out their cheerful welcome to everyone, and with their 
beauty ard fragrance just giving to the brilliant scene 
that touch of “Horeyness” and content that is always 
necessary to really enjoy a good dinner. 
| was interested enough to ask the head waiter, “why 
this floral celebration?’ He looked at me, evidently a 
little surprised at the question, but courteously informed 
me that it was not a floral celebration but a regular thing 
at the New Ocean House, and that the Gladioli were sup- 
pled fresh every day from “Cedar Acres” Gladioli Farm 
at Wenham, through the agency of Hoffman, the Boston 
florist. 
I would sugeest to ‘Hoffman and to B. Hammond 
Tracy that if they ever want to impress anyone particu- 
AR@GUN DsAND 
Sept. 3, 1915. 
Nc AC) Te 
larly with the effectiveness of the Gladioli as a decorative 
flower they take them up to the New Ocean House to 
dinner, and —well,— the Gladioli will do the rest. 
X-X-X 
SOMEBODY recently asked me the correct definition of 
R.S.V. P. It has become such a common phrase that 
l have always known in a genetal way what the letters 
meant, but I had to look it up in my French dictionary to 
get hte correct definition, which. gave it “R. S. V. P.— 
Repondez s‘il vous plait.” Reply if you please. 1 was 
tcling a friend about this, who has spent many winters 
in Jamaica, and he gave me Murphy’s definition. Murphy 
is a Jamaican, and while the Jamaican colored boys have 
not got a great deal of initiative, my friend vouches for 
the fact that they have a genius for “Imitative.” 
Murphy was going to get married and he wanted to 
do the thing in style, so he gave the house printer at the 
F'otel Titchfield an order for some wedding cards, He 
furnished the “copy” in the regular for val style, con- 
ciuding with the letters “R. S.-V. P.” 
_“What’s this,” said the printer, pointing to the letters. 
“Why, that’s all right, sah,” said Murphy. 
“But do you really know what R. S, V. P. means?’ 
“Oh, yes, sah. It must be all right, sah. Why you 
use it on the ball invitations.” | 
“Then tell me what does it mean?” 
“Why that, sah, Why that:R. S. V. P. means Re- 
freshments Served Very Promptly.” 
| X-X-x 
WAS told a pretty good story the other day, about a 
gentleman who makes his summer home not over a 
thousand miles from Manchester. And, well—he is not 
as young as he used to be. Despite the fact that he had 
a very rich father, which of course he could not help, he 
has a very lovable and genial disposition. It was at a 
midnight supper at a prominent club, not very long ago, 
that he was gently defending a certain man whose char- 
acter was on the conversational grill. 
“But,” cried the accuser, “he says you are a young 
lobster !”’ 
“Did. he say I was a young lobster?” asked the 
gentleman. 
“Yes, that is just what he said.” 
“Well, if he said I was young, I forgive him the 
rest.” 
And the son-of-a-rich-man pressed the button and 
told the waiter to do his duty. 
X-X-X 
WAS down to Gloucester the-other day, and I wanted 
to get a little information. Although it is my business 
to ask questions, | have never taken to it very kindly, 
preferring to get my information any other possible way 
than by a direct question. So strolling along the shore I 
spied a group of fishermen, and picking out a genial look- 
ing gray-haired man, I asked him where a certain road 
“went” to, 
“That road go to,” said he, ‘““‘Why I have been in 
Gloucester all mv life, and so far as 1 know that road 
has been there all the time, and never went “anywhere.” 
I thanked him for the information, but I can still see 
the sly smile rippling over his weather-beaten face, and 
hear the quiet laugh that went around the crowd. I am 
not going to ask any more questions of Gloucester fisher- 
men, for I find they are just as ready with an answer as 
their brothers of Swampscott. 
—“Danny Dow.” 
