The Uncultivated Yankee and the Professor's Sword

“Monsieur, bring me a sword, and I’ll do for all uncultivated Yankees!”

Probably a hundred people in the rotunda of the Rainier-Grand Hotel Saturday night thought themselves struck by an electric blast when Prof. Arthur L’Heureux Francis, of Vancouver, B.C., vented the above ultimatum. The scene was professional. Prof. Francis is a man of many parts himself, and in British Columbia, he is known as a clever man with the foils. Just midnight when the party of the Oberon, he had indulged in a few glasses of beer—not many, he swears. He resolved to retire and left a call with Clerk Love for an early hour. Prior to doing so, he picked up a pen, and in bold, characteristic letters, ornamented the register with the following name: “Prof. Arthur L’Heureux Francis, Vancouver, B.C.”

Caine, the well-known shipping man, glanced at the register and whistled softly. Just why the professor spoke to the captain will probably never be ascertained. He did, however, and after a brief conversation, asked the marine man to take liquor before retiring. Capt. Caine did not refuse to be companionable. When the lounge was again reached by the freshly acquainted couple, the professor was talking volubly. He inadvertently reflected on the nation which Uncle Sam watches over, and cast aspersions on the American flag. Caine listened phlegmatically for a few minutes, and then his right hand shot out and caught the professor on the jaw. The late, loyal Britisher measured his length on the rotunda floor. He failed to distinguish himself when he collected his scattered senses. Then a gray pallor to overspread the genial Canadian. He insulted Clerk Love by demanding a sword. Needless to say, the deadly weapon was never produced. Failing to get it, Prof. Arthur L’Heureux Francis rushed wildly at the shipping man. For five exciting minutes, the rotunda of the hotel became the scene of lively rapier-play. After it was over, Capt. Caine, when questioned by all friends, laconically said, “Never touched me.”

Francis says he never again, as long as he lives, will try to be hospitable with “an uncultivated Yankee.”