The Self-Appointed Island Hermit

On the last boat, which arrived in Portland last Wednesday, there was an old gentleman named King who had just returned to Portland after an absence of many years, spent in an effort to recuperate his health, which at one time threatened to give away. The doctors advising a change of climate as the most likely to benefit their patient, Mr. King, without more ado, packed his valise and started for one of the largest of the San Juan islands, and has remained there ever since, living a life very similar to that of Alexander Selkirk. He fully recovered his health, and in conversation with a Portland reporter made the following statements in regard to the manner and style of living on the island.

'If one is poor or lazy,' began Mr. King, 'I advise him by all means to go to the San Juan group. He will find his Paradise there. It makes no difference how bad his character is he will be welcome, as what the islands need just now are men and women, and they will take everyone and ask no questions. When the comer arrives there he finds that all he needs is a blanket, a gun and fishing tackle. Oysters, clams, shrimps and other delicacies unknown to our inland towns are to be had for the taking. In the clear, cool brooks which bubble out of the ground and wander through the islands and out into the strait, millions of large and beautiful trout are to be seen. Deer in abundance are in the woods, while small game is so plentiful that a man can kill a mess of it with a stick. The soil of the islands is wonderfully productive, and almost everything from a sweet potato to a watermelon can be raised by the mere planting.'