It was almost Christmas when Danny sat down to dinner at Jim Pollard’s house. At the table sat Gill Ellsworth, a boarder at Jim’s. They were talking about the hard times the people were experiencing along the coast as a result of the failure of the fishing season just past.

“I was looking at statistics last night,” said Danny. “I have issued more dole orders in two and half months than what was issued here in the past two years, and we haven’t even gotten into winter yet.”

Gill replied that he didn’t know how people could live on dole orders. The dole orders were forms of relief. It was six cents per day per person. For instance: if there were ten in a family, that family would receive sixty cents per day or $18.00 per month. But like Gill said, there wasn’t any other choice. The conversation changed very quickly.

“Danny, do you still intend to go over to Port Saunders for Christmas or has Barbara changed your mind?” asked Gill.

Danny laughed. “Nobody changes the mind of a Corcoran!”

Gill smiled, “But . . . ?”

Danny replied, “But I have decided not to go. I may go to Englee instead.”

Gill quickly replied, “You’ll go nowhere for Christmas, my son. You wouldn’t leave Harbour Deep for all the world.”

Everyone at the table laughed. Then Gill added, “Now people hear this. I am madly in love with Grace Loder and I want everyone to know that it is my intention to marry her.”

Everybody laughed. Then there was a knock at the door, so Mrs. Pollard went to see who it was. A little girl with curly hair entered the kitchen. “Aunt Milly,” she said, “Mom wants to know if you got any dinner cooked. She was wondering if you got any pot liquor left so we can soak our bread in it.”

All eyes were on the girl. Her clothes were clean but full of patches. Gill told Mrs. Pollard to leave his dinner in the pot when she gave it to the girl. Danny could hardly believe his ears. Mrs. Pollard said, “This is Helen, my sister’s little girl. Her father, Gord Ropson, died last summer with T.B. There are seven kids besides her. I don’t know how they’ll make it through this winter. I guess we’ll have to take them in.”

Danny rose from the table. “Helen, come with me.”

When they were outside, she showed him where she lived. It was a big two-storey house all beautifully painted. Together they walked up to the house, Danny holding the little girl’s hand. When they reached the door, the girl opened it and the Ranger stepped inside. In the kitchen he saw a table at which eight places were very neatly set. The only sign of food on the table was bread. Standing near the table was a neatly dressed woman of about forty. She wore her hair in a roll. Danny noticed the tidiness of the house. The snow-white tablecloth and the white apron that she wore told Danny that this was a special woman, but due to her present circumstances she was put in a very tight spot.

“Ma’am, I’m Danny Corcoran, the ranger stationed here for the winter.”

“I’m Vera Ropson. Please sit down.”

She pulled out a chair from the table and Danny sat down. She then asked Helen to leave the room so the adults could talk.

“Mr. Corcoran, my husband was a hard-working man who always provided us with full and plenty, but for the last two years we’ve seen hard times. Ever since he took sick and had to give up fishing we haven’t had very much. I’ve had many hunger pains in the last month, and the only food we’ve had is what people have given us and God knows everyone is having it tough. You see this table? The only thing we have in this house in the line of food is bread. Just before the children come home at noon, I send Helen out to ask the neighbours for anything they could give me to help us get down bread. Helen should not have gone to Milly’s when she had visitors.” She sighed.

Danny looked at her with tears in his eyes and said, “Mrs. Ropson, why haven’t you come to me? At least I can help some. I am permitted to give you $18.00 per month. It would be a help.”

She admitted her pride could not feed her children. He gave her a note for $18.00 and called Helen. “Helen, you and I are going to the store.” They walked to the store, bought a can of beans, tea, butter, milk, and two candies. “Give one candy to your mother,” he said, “and tell her it’s from me.”

He took the youngster in his arms and prayed a silent prayer and wept

out loud as his mind went back to when he grew up in St. John’s and his mother had to work every day to keep food in the mouths of him and his sister after his father had died.

“Tell your mother that God will take care of her.”

The little girl ran home with the armful of parcels

It was a blusterous day with the wind northwest and a lone figure was seen coming from the mouth of Soufflett’s River. The man was not running and yet he was not walking. The pace looked to be what Danny saw at the races around St. John’s, where men would walk in the ten-mile race and at the end would have to be given oxygen, but his pace seemed to be a little faster. Danny knew this from being an athlete and from running in the six-mile races on Regatta Day. Danny decided to put on his snowshoes and run up to meet the stranger. He strapped on his snow­shoes and started to run. The distance was about a mile. He was running in a dog team track, and as he drew near the oncoming man, he noticed he was walking outside the track. When they met he asked, “Is there an emergency, sir?”

“I don’t know,” was the reply.

“Are there…?” Danny noticed the bag on the man’s back, on which was written “Royal Mail.” Ah, ah, he thought. This is the mailman from Englee, that all the people have been talking about. Danny noticed this man did not slow down, but he still had to run to stay abreast of him. “I’m Danny Corcoran.”

“You’re what?” was the stranger’s reply.

“I’m Danny Corcoran, the Newfoundland Ranger stationed here in Harbour Deep.”

“Do you have any mail for me? If you do, I want it right away. Have it ready. I’ll be stopping for five minutes. Got to be back in Englee by supper. How is the ice? Is Edgar Pollard’s dogs off? Is anyone here sick?” The man said all of this in one breath.

“Sir, would you mind telling me your name?”

“Nat Johnson.”

Sure, thought Danny. This is the man he had heard so much about. “Sir, how far is it to Englee from here?”

“Forty-two miles up and forty-two miles down.”

Eighty-four miles return in one day at that pace. Danny looked at him

dumbfounded. “A man of steel. What an athlete he would have made.”

“What’d you say?”

“I was just thinking out loud.”

“I thought you said I was out to steal.”

Danny saluted him as if he was his commanding officer. “How heavy is that bag on your back?”

The man replied in rapid speed. “Eighty pounds. I think someone must be having nails come.” The man talked like he walked, full speed ahead.

Danny turned off at the Ranger’s house all out of breath. Nat went to Sam Cassell’s house. Sam’s wife looked after the mail. He took off the load. Mrs. Cassell had his dinner already on the table. He looked at his watch. Almost every man in town crowded around him. Some were loading the return mail into his pack sack while others were repairing his snowshoes. Between mouthfuls he was answering one man’s question. The question was, “Do you know if the nurse from Roddickton is coming up?”

“Hit Hillier is bringing her up next week,” was his reply. He was asked many more questions but his replies were too fast to be understood, so everybody became silent. Then as quick as the mailman came, he left, and was out of sight, disappearing into the snowy jungle. Danny watched him when he left, then said to himself, “If he can leave Englee forty-two miles away and return the same day, then surely I should be able to go across the Northern Peninsula to Port Saunders in two days. Yes, I think that’s what I’ll do. It’s only forty-five miles.”