"They must be merry
places in Winter with a blizzard blowing around! Lonely, wow!"
"Remember the white yacht we passed the other day near Burnt Coal?"
asked Phil, looking up from the book he was reading. "The _Sunbeam_ was
the name of her. Well, a chap was telling me yesterday about her. It
seems she's a sort of Mission boat, the Sea Coast Mission, I think it's
called. The folks that live on these off-shore islands along here were
in pretty bad shape a few years ago, bad shape in every way. There were
no schools, or mighty few, and no churches, and the folks were just
naturally pegging out from sheer loneliness and--and lack of ambition,
just drifting right back into a kind of semi-civilized state, as folks
do on islands in the Pacific that you read about. Well, someone realised
it and got busy, and this Mission was started. There was a chap named
MacDonald, Alexander MacDonald--"
"Sounds almost Scotch," observed Joe dryly.
"Never mind what he was. He's American now, if he was ever anything
else," replied Phil warmly. "He was teaching school on one of the
islands near Mount Desert in the Summers and going to college the rest
of the time. There wasn't any church on this island and so he used to
conduct services in the place they used for a school.
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