Fun Stuff

The Fond Memory of Berry Picking Time

One day as an old man was strolling home, he happened upon a blueberry bush. He smiled upon seeing it, as it brought back fond memories of years long past when he’d been berry picking and met a woman that would become his bride. It was not far from where they lived, if his memory served him correctly, but as the old man was reluctant to admit, memory was usually the first thing to go. But in his mind, he could still picture things as they had happened as if they had happened yesterday. 

They’d been at his Old Aunt Mary’s he thinks, as she had a big patch of blue berries nearby. His mother wanted some berries picked and he had been delegated to the task. He was thankful now that he had been. After spending hours together in the berry patch, they’d finally decided to walk home together. It was during that walk home that he noticed how beautiful she was, and had decided then and there that she just had to be his. But in his mind he had wondered if he could truly win her heart. 

Then without a second thought, he had just blurted out those words that had changed his life for the better, “Will you marry me?” She’d been stunned at first, but then smiled and kissed him. It was then that he knew that he had his answer and that she would be his forevermore. 

When he closes his eyes he can still remember how she looked that day. She’d been wearing a simple gingham gown, and even though it was simple, he thought her to look exquisite like a Queen. Her golden locks fell loose from under her bonnet, and her blue eyes sparkled. Her lips were cherry red, and tasted even sweeter. He’d never tasted anything sweeter than the taste of her lips on his. When their lips locked, he’d known that he’d be happy with her for the rest of their lives. 

As he continued on home, the man looked over his shoulder once more, and smiled happily at the blueberry bushes that had brought him love and happiness that knew no bounds, and a family that only a select few were blessed to have. 

The Tale of French Perfume

The myth of Jack Ryan and his contraband is a well known one in Newfoundland circles. It originated in the town of Jack's death- Spanish Room- and has been passed around for generations. This is the story of Jack Ryan and his contraband that never made it to its intended destination. 

It was a cold winter's night when Jack Ryan set out for Newfoundland from St. Pierre. His ship was loaded down with contraband, which at the time included perfume, smokes and rum. The fog was thick that night and Jack hoped that it would be thick enough to get in and out of Newfoundland with his contraband safely, but alas, this was not to be. 

As he neared Mortier Bay, the Mounties spotted Jack. They shone an enormous spotlight on him, which made night appear to be day. They told him to stop and surrender, but Jack was not about to listen to them, and get arrested. Stupid Mounties, thinking that they could stop him; they'd never take him alive. 

Instead of listening to the foolish Mounties, Jack turned his ship around, set the engines to full power, and headed towards Spanish Room. It was a place that he knew well, and he figured he would be safe there. Those cops would never go near the rocks there; it would be too dangerous. 

As the Mounties drew ever closer to him, Jack began to laugh manically. They'd never catch him. He would never go to jail, not if he had his way. He pushed the engine ever faster, and with a crazy smile on his face, headed for the dangerous rocks of Spanish Room at a speed of 50 clicks an hour. 

As he did, the seagulls began to cry loudly, as if sensing Jack's demise. With one last look back at the Mounties; Jack crashed his ship into the rocks, catching everything afire, including himself and his precious contraband.

To this very day, the residents of Spanish Room say that on the rocks near their town, you can still hear Jack laughing, and that if the wind blows the right way, you can still smell the scent of his French perfume in the wind.

A Sailors Promise

As the sun started to rise in St. John's, a young sailor clung tightly to his lady love. It would soon be morning, which meant that he would have to leave her again. Oh how he dreaded the thought of leaving her. The dread he felt was the same dread that came with each trip that he made. He'd be gone for months on end, and was never sure when, if ever, he would see her again. 

Every time they'd part ways, he would always swear to her that he would not be gone long. Boston and St. John's didn't have that much ocean between them anyways. But no matter how many times he'd repeated those words to her, he himself never really believed that they were true. 

The ocean held so many dangers. If the seas turned violent, it could spell the end of him, and his lady love would be left to mourn him, and then to move on with somebody new; the seas were unpredictable, as he well knew, having lost his own father to the raging ocean. But what would be far worse would be if he came home injured; half-broken. Would she still want him anymore? She'd told him yes many times, but unless the situation actually happened, he wasn't too certain that she'd stay. 

She was a beautiful woman, and he'd oft wondered why she was with him. He wasn't a gorgeous man by any means; just an ordinary Joe. He wasn't rich either, just a sailor who was just getting by. She deserved someone who could give her the things that she deserved. But yet she seemed happy with him, and had continued to stick by his side through thick and thin, and loved him for who he was. 

Her head rested on his chest, and he could hear her sigh. He knew that she dreaded his leaving as much as he did. So instead of worrying her further, he just kissed her soft lips and murmured, "There isn't that much ocean between Boston and St. John's," and hoped that he would make it back safely from this voyage.

He'll Have Her Yet

A young man sighed as he passed the grocery store belonging to Old Man Brown. The old man had the fairest daughter in all of St. John's, if not Newfoundland. He hoped someday old Brown would be his father-in-law. 

The old man's store had shelves full of anything and everything conceivable known to man. He had jews harps for the little boys along with an assortment of lollipops and cheese. More often then not the old man had his daughter mind the store. More than once had this young man dreamed of running away with the fair maiden, but he never had the nerve to do so. 

She was a proper maiden, very polite and courteous. She was everything a man could want in a woman. Only problem was that Old Brown wanted his daughter to be married to nobility-a Lord, Mayor, Marquis or an Earl- or something of the sort. He'd do anything to marry old Brown's daughter. 

The poor shop owner was cursed with gout, and always complained when he couldn't get out of his parlour. The young man suspected that's why he always had his daughter working there. The touch of her hand always made him shake. The minute he saw her, his hands would shake, legs would quiver, and his heart would race. She did strange things to him without even trying. 

He could tell that she liked him too, for every time he'd share a tender word with her, she'd smile at him, making his heart flutter. But knowing that she had to be wed to nobility or someone or high social standing didn't deter him at all. He'd just run in the next election, and then Old Brown would surely let him wed his daughter. 

Beware The Yarmouth Lasses

As Finnegan O'Brien strolled off his ship in Yarmouth, his thoughts were strolling elsewhere; to finding a lass there to be his wife. There had to be a lass here that was wife material, and as he took at seat at the nearest pub/boarding house, he saw HER. She was a pretty little thing, with golden hair and blue eyes, and she was the daughter of the owner. 

So one night Finn mustered up his courage, and he asked her for her hand in marriage. Immediately she scoffed, "I won't marry you!" 

Finn's eyes became questioning, "Why not?" he asked. 

"I have everything I need here and I don't need to be wed to have anything else. But i'll make you a promise, kind sir. If you'd like to linger with me a while," she grinned, "pull on this string and I'll let you in for some fun." 

Finn nodded, his eyes sparkling with excitement, and left again. 

But remembering the golden-haired lass's promise, he waltzed by her window the next day and pulled on her string. And just as she had promised, she came down, and that's when Finn's jaw dropped. She was wearing nothing but the piece of string on her finger. He just shook his head and went on his way again. 

Once aboard his ship once more, Finn was quick to tell his crew, "So all ye men who come here to Yarmouth, be remembering this: if their hair be hung low, pull on their strings and they'll come down and let you in to have some fun with them. But remember this as well, be careful, for the Yarmouth lass is one who gives as good as she gets." Then he shook his head again, and returned to the cabin of his ship.