The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1911-08-10

Captain Pierce invited US into the fog
horn tower and showed US the machinery
by means of which the fog horn can do
| its duty when the mist hangs thckly
i about. And then we went in through
the house where he lives, his home in
winter, and partly his home in summer,
for here he himself spends each night
| and part of the day. The sitting
room was attractive with its pretty
pictures on the walls, many of them
paintings by S. P Rolf Trscott, an Eng
lish artist, who makes his home on Mon
hogan the year around. There was a
piano in this room, for the hosts daugh
ter. Florence, is musician, and although
away at school much Of the time is at
home enough to find enjoyment in her
piano here. The dining room and kitchen
were lust as immaculate and cosy, and it
was hard to realize that this was home
on lonely island and that in winter the
winds howl numerically around this
house and the one which adjoins it and
in which the assistant keeper. Edward
Ferren and family live. Mr.. Ferren has
been here eight years. He has a wife
and four daughters, one was graduated
this year from the High school at Booth
bay Harbor and this fall she is to enter
the State Normal school at Gorham. The
youngest daughters little Marcia, tiny
miss of seven years, so small is she that
she seems about five.
Captain Pierce, as already stated, has
been here sixteen years, half of this time
he was the assistant keeper, and for the
last eight years he has been the head
keeper.
Just back of the fog horn tower is
big bell, which is only used in case of.
emergency July 4th, however the chill
dren were allowed to ring it all they
chose, and they kept it pealing much of
the day.
Mr.. and Mrs. Pierce were both born
on Monhegan. Five years ago, they de-
cided to try running a summer hotel and
they built medium sized house in one
of the most desirable spots on the island.
The house is near the wharf and it over
looks the cliffs and sea. So successful
were they in their venture that three
years ago they built an addition. Two
years ago another addition was made and
now the Island Inn is just twice as large
as it was originally. 1t now accommodates
about eighty people and this is not large
enough to hold all the people who wish to
come. When asked if he planned to
build yet another addition next year he
replied, "No | think not yet while. 1t
costs so much to get lumber over here. -
OVER TRAILS WHICH LOSE THEMSELVES.
Who would think of getting lost on an
island measuring three quarters of a
mile by mile and an eighth! But that
is practically what happened several
times to US. Almost never did we return
by the same path over which we went,
and this was not intentional either. Mon
hogan boasts of almost no roads, and
those highways named roads would be
scorned anywhere but on an island.
There is perhaps quarter of mile of
what might be called sandy, rocky
road. This loses itself in trails, resem-
bling paths through a pasture. These
trails are many and wind in and out.
through woods, over rocks and down by
meadows. One, much to our surprise
brought us out to an ice pond with an
| ice house close by. We had wondered
| where the ice came from and now this
| mystery was solved. Another trail
brought US to Black Head, name given
to an exceedingly high cliff on the ba *
side of the island. 1t was on our way
back from here that We lost the path
completely, and finally found ourselves
in thick woods with apparently no open
! ing. Perseverance and putting into
practice, eff at first you don't succeed,
| try, try again" brought its reward, for
after some scrambling around we located
path, which eventually brought US to
| the settlement. The trail to White Head,
another high cliff, not far from Black
Head, also had way Of losing itself; in
fact it would hide away altogether and
then suddenly leap up and laugh at US.
! T ohcfo CnUp f9UnrIfp
on those moonlight nights, was the most
! elusive of all, for sometimes it would
| land us on carpet of trailing yew,
| sometimes in swamp where the marsh
grass grew more than two feet high, and
| then we stood lone and lorn on a rocky
| ledge. Sometimes we thought the Evil
| One himself had command over that
| trail, but usually we took it all in good
part and either retraced our steps or
Nodded on until we came into the right
path.
THE SUMMER COTTAGES.
Between thirty-five and forty families
live on the island summer and winter,
and there are now about twenty-five
summer cottages. Twenty years ago
the first summer cottage was built, or
rather an old house was purchased and
remodeled by George Wharton Edwards
of New Jersey. Twelve years ago the
first new cottage was built by George
Everett of New York, and since then
the other cottages have been built, chief
" by New York people. These cottages
are all good ones and in nearly every in
stance the owners are people who have
considerable money.
The artist, Mr.. Triscott, lives in a
small red cottage with wide veranda
over which many vines Chamber. Here
he lives the year around with just a