April 4th, 1934

April 4, 1934

Old Nick’s Last Scribble

A Tender Message Of Farewell From Our Old Time Harborville Correspondent Who Is Now A Resident Of Boston, Mass.

Editor The Register: -

Reading my Register of last Wednesday I was reminded that time flies, and that Old Nick’s days are numbered, and it occurred to me that while still a little alive and able to operate this old machine, I should write a few lines in farewell to our good old Register, Brother Hatfield, his staff, and the host of readers of this paper.

I realize that I have written many things that you did not like, but as I am only human, you will have to forgive me and remember the good things (if any) I did write and which you seemed to enjoy.

I hoped that I could once more have got over to the Bay Shore to sit on my old bungalow verandah and look out over the good old bay that I have loved for years, and will never see again; but if my wishes are obeyed by my side-partner, when I am gone and what is left of me is cremated, I hope my ashes enclosed in a glass jar will get free transportation over the Eastern Steamship Line and our own Dominion Atlantic Railway, to be delivered to my old friend Lem Brown, who will see that either Bloom Morris, Bernard Morris or someone else, will carry them out into the bay I love so well and scatter them on the waves.

I have, as your readers all know, a long life love for Harborville, Berwick and the lovely bay, which in spite of the fact that it gave me many a hard night during past winters, when I was all alone, I love it just the same and want what is left of me to rest there.

I often miss the good old friends who lived on the Shore as well as in Berwick, and frequently learn of some of them being over here visiting, but with the exception of a very few none of them have ever dropped in to see me.

Frank Coleman and his charming wife, whom you will remember is a daughter of your indefatigable Chief of Police, and Winnie Rawding, who recently bought the old Givan place for a home for her mother, are among the few who have been to see us. Also my old friend, Billy Perry – I should say Mr., for he is sure to be the next Mayor of Needham. Then there is my old friend, Clarence Spicer, who, as often as his duties permit calls on me and we have an old time visit. So here’s good-bye to all of them, whom I may not see again. I must not forget my old neighbor, John Henry Jackson, his wife and "Tommy," who, while they live over in Peabody and cannot get often to see me, are still remembered for the many kindnesses to me over on the bleak Bay of Fundy Shore in the dread winter months.

Old Nick, when able to sit up, reclines in his good old rocker, looking out of his big by-window which commands the whole of Columbus Avenue, one of Boston’s principal highways entering the city, and he can watch thousands of cars daily travelling in and out of the city.

Needless to say we look for The Register each week, and the moment it arrives there is a great tussle between my side-partner and myself as to who gets it first. When that is settled and we both have read it thoroughly, it is laid on the table in our reception room for visitors to enjoy, and it often grieves me to see old-homers spend the entire afternoon or evening reading The Register, and I have more than once suggested in a delicate way, that it would cost them so little to have it come direct to their homes and not have to wear out my copy. I am over eighty years old and have never in all my life borrowed someone else’s paper unless mine was lost in the mails, and I cannot understand why old Nova Scotians are so little interested in their old homeland that they don’t want to keep in touch through their home paper.

And now, the time has come when Old Nick has to say Good-Bye. He is tired out and has to stop – for good.

Old Nick.

(No doubt the casual reader will be impressed with the note of sadness in the above "farewell message: of Old Nick, but not so the editor of this paper who is too well acquainted with the old fellow’s moods to take him seriously. Our diagnosis, after reading between the lines, is that he is suffering a bad attack of Spring fever aggravated by a ructious liver, a condition which is sometimes improved by a fairly strong cathartic. We are interested in Old Nick’s admission that he wrote many things we did not like. He did so! Those were the old days when he conducted the column, Harborville-By-The-Sea, and he kept ye editor in hot water a good part of the time. Nevertheless, now that we hark back to the old days, we realize that our Harborville scribe (E. W. Kappele – "Old Nick" at present) wrote a fairly interesting column – interesting to most of the time, it made us awfully mad. However, we’re ready to forget and forgive; and we’ll try hard to remember the "good things" our correspondent wrote about, although we’ll have to confess our memory, for a newspaper man is not nearly as keen as it should be. – Editor).

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