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 and I drove him to a doctor in Charlottetown, thirty-five miles—there weren’t none nearer in them days—with that blessed hook still hanging from his nose. When we got there old Dr. Crabb jest took a file and filed that hook jest the same as I’d tried to do, only he weren’t a mite particular about doing it easy!”

Captain Jim’s visit to his old friend had revived many recollections and he was now in the full tide of reminiscences.

“Henry was asking me today if I remembered the time old Father Chiniquy blessed Alexander MacAllister’s boat. Another odd yarn—and true as gospel. I was in the boat myself. We went out, him and me, in Alexander MacAllister’s boat one morning at sunrise. Besides, there was a French boy in the boat—Catholic of course. You know old Father Chiniquy had turned Protestant, so the Catholics hadn’t much use for him. Well, we sat out in the gulf in the broiling sun till noon, and not a bite did we get. When we went ashore old Father Chiniquy had to go, so he said in that polite way of his, ‘I’m very sorry I cannot go out with you dis afternoon, Mr. MacAllister, but I leave you my blessing. You will catch a t’ousand dis afternoon.’ Well, we did not catch a thousand, but we caught exactly nine hundred and ninety-nine—the biggest catch for a small boat on the whole north shore that summer. Curious, wasn’t it? Alexander MacAllister, he says to Andrew Peters, ‘Well, and what do you think of Father Chiniquy