Title: James Robertson
Scene: On Prince Edward Island on a warm summer’s eve on the 62nd birthday of James Robertson.
Grandson: Hey Grandpa’ James Why did you move here to St. John’s Island anyway?
James: Well it’s a very long story. If yer willin’ ta here it.
Grandson: Please tell us the story!
James: Well ‘looks at grandson’s puppy dog eyes’ aw allright.
It all start’ed when I came ‘ere ta Canada. I was young and happy. Me an’ me brother, Alex, we left home ta start a new life. We finally, af’er what fel’ li’ a lifetime we arrived in New York. Me an’ yer’ grand uncle star’ed a newspaper company called “The Royal American Gazette”. Those were the days. We runne’ tha’ gazette fer eight years until those stupid Patriots kicked us out when we refused ta suppor’ th’ revolution happenin’.
So we moved from place ta place four times till the war was over. But we was loyalists so we kept on publishin’ our newpaper agains’ th’ war. When th’ war stopped we moved ta’Shelburne, Nova Scotia, you know, where yer uncle Paul lives, an’ we printed the gazette ‘til three years after me brother died. Then I moved here wit’ your lovely grandmother an’ stayed here until now.
But now I think it’s time fer bed!
Grandson: Nooooo! Tell me more!
James: No, no. it’s getting’ late. Off ta bed with ya.
Grandson: Aawww.
