Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 162: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AT2 ony, where they could take their families for two or three months each year and feel that the surroundings would be proper. Of course, all this was a long time ago, when I was quite young, but I realize now what foresight those men had. Even in Cranston, which was settled and developed by old American stock, an undesirable ele- ment has crept in—foreigners and families of foreigners who have not been in this country more than two or three generations, you know—and people of real family have to watch out pretty closely. Well, all of the men I mentioned built cottages out at Lake Wannebunk, and when I was a kid we began going there the first part of June and staying until time for ‘school to open. We had some pretty dog- goned good times, too. There were, besides me, Tom Hobart, Fred and Mart King and their two sisters, Dorothy and Elise; the four Kenny chil- dren, Edith, Norma, Beatrice, and Arthur. Oh, I forgot to mention my own sister, Kathleen. Anyhow, you can get that, growing up, together in Cranston and going out to the lake every summer, we all got to know each other pretty well, and when certain families are what you might call important in a place, it is only natural that the sons and daughters of those families should try to maintain the dignity and prestige that is in their keeping. Therefore, after all of us had finished our local schooling and gone off to college, we were mighty careful about who crashed into ‘our parties out at the lake, I can tell you. To begin with, a fellow owes something te his sister. Anybody will agree to that, It is up to him to see that no bounders or people who have not been bred decently spoil things by shoe-horning themselves into places and affairs where they have no right to be. There’s altogether too much of that sort of thing nowadays. As a matter of fact, I fear that my father and his associates were more or less respon- sible for what happened last summer. You see, after they had finished building, and had laid out their grounds around the lake, there was quite a bit of land left, down at one end. It was sort of swampy, and the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEERLY. lake was shallow, with a muddy bottom in that part. Seeing it was of no special use to them, they made the mistake of selling the acre- age to aman named Murphy, from Boston. He claimed he could cut the trees off and make a fair profit, so they let him have it in a lump. I’ve often told father how I felt about that deal, and pointed out to him that he was not entirely blameless as to the results. Murphy cut off some of the trees, not all of them, and then went to work and built two big docks. He had the water front dredged, and threw out a couple of break- waters. And the first thing we knew, the land he had bought was cut up into building lots, He had the nerve to advertise in the Boston papers, as well as those in Portland and Bangor. Advertised the place as SUNSET PARK ESTATES ON DELIGHTFUL LAKE WANNEBUNK The Most Exclusive Inland Resort in the State of Maine. The Spot Chosen by the First Families as Their Summer Playground Can you imagine a thing like that? Naturally, father was as mad as the devil; so were all of our friends. But there was nothing to be done about it, even when the most impossible people began to come in and build equally impossible shacks. No particular style of architecture, and facing any old way. Cheap as could be, some of them, too. And all that we could do was to see that the rabble kept in its proper place. I, WITHIN two years you wouldn’t have known Lake Wannebunk. Murphy’s so- called Sunset Park Estates had been snapped up almost entirely, and the lower part of the lake shore looked like a young city. The people who built there were pretty awful themselves, and, to make it worse, their friends came in swarms for the week- ends during the summer. The road lead- ing to Cranston was choked with rattling old flivvers full of men with their coats off _ CORMMICLOOOKS (C@)