The Poplar Standard

A week after I established residence in Seabrook, Ray Quimper, my next door neighbor took time off to drive me around the town and show me the points of interest. Toward evening he stopped his car before a driveway that led up to a huge brick house on top of Drybridge Hill. It was the only brick building in town and could be seen for miles around. I had wondered about it since the day of my arrival.

"The home of Prince Alexander Moisevich Deborin," he explained.

I looked at him curiously, sensing that this was a proud moment for Ray. He had saved the brick house until last, like a child relishing the last morsel.

"Of course," Ray explained further "he has a city home too. But the fact is he spends the greater part of his time out here. He craves solitude."

"Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't it be fitting to let the man know you're glad to have him as a citizen?"

"We've tended to that," Ray said importantly. "Three days after his arrival a committee made up of leading citizens waited on the prince and extended him a formal welcome." He regarded me sagely. "We're smart enough not to antagonize the man by pestering him to death."

On the day of which I write I was removing the storm windows from my house, for spring was near and the day was bright and warm. The prince came strolling along my street and stopped, oddly enough, at the end of my drive to watch. I perceived him from the corner of my eye, though gave no indication that I had seen. After a moment or two, much to my satisfaction, he turned in at the drive and came slowly toward me. At this precise moment the stepladder on which I was standing tilted precariously and the window I was removing threatened to tumble to the ground.

I uttered a cry of alarm, turned, perceived the prince as if for the first time, and shouted to him for aid. Involuntarily, he leaped forward and steadied the ladder until I had descended.

"Phew!" I grinned. "That was a close call."

"It was indeed," he replied. "Would you mind holding the ladder for me on this window over here?" He seemed a little surprised, but agreed to lend his assistance. He proved as good a helper as I could have asked for. Three windows I removed while he steadied the ladder and helped me lower them to the ground. We chatted amiably about the weather.

PRESENTLY the task was done and I turned to him, grinning.

"Thanks a lot. I don't know how I would have managed without you."

"Really?" He seemed to appreciate my compliment. "Frankly, I've enjoyed it, not only the work, but our little visit." He hesitated. "You are new in town, aren't you?"

"Comparatively," I said. "It's a mighty nice town. Folks are all like yourself. Ready and willing to lend a hand when help is needed."

I smiled happily. "The fact that I know your name, Prince Alexander, proves a little theory of my own."

He stared in astonishment. "You know who I am? You knew when you asked me to help remove the windows?"

I nodded. "Your philosophy and mine have a good deal in common, Prince. And that is, that you're no different from the rest of us. I'd even venture to say that you are quite unhappy living up there in your castle so far removed from everybody. To prove that I am right, I'm going to ask you a question. Tomorrow I'm going fishing. How would you like to come along?"

"I'd like to very much," he said. "But we must keep it a secret from the rest of the people. It would be a pity to destroy their illusion."

I agreed, winking at him knowingly, and the prince and I then and there shared a hearty laugh.