From the July 20, 1954 edition of the Vineyard Gazette:

The swans recently added to West Tisbury’s mill pond are a desirable addition for more than one reason. Presumably they are already eating away at the intruding weed known as Parrot’s Feather, which never had any business growing in the mill pond in the first place, but regardless of this, they are first rate as scenery.

The whole West Tisbury scene is appealing to visitors as well as to the inhabitants, who are fortunate people in being able to live there. If memory serves well, Somerset Maugham compared West Tisbury to Devonshire, a compliment even in the minds of those who have never been to Devonshire. Probably they have swans there, floating easily and making reflections in pools of placid water. Swans, at any rate, are associated with many lovely English landscapes, and why not with West Tisbury?

Getting rid of Parrot’s Feather n the Old Mill Pond is a modern problem. One rejoices that here is one modern problem for which old fashioned prescriptions seem in place, rather then the clash of machinery or the detonation of new-fangled explosives. Freezing having proved an insufficient weapon, swans are now called upon. They have plenty of time, they fit into the whole picture of the pond and the town, they seem contented and industrious, and we are willing to bet heavily on the swans.

The essence of the old-time picnic was that it took a long while to get there. A change in the idea and experience of time is what catches most of us unaware in regard to picnics nowadays, not the change of provender or the method of transporting and preparing it, although these have changed greatly also, as witness the decline of the pickle. Olives are still in, but pickles do not enjoy their old esteem.

Everyone knows, of course, that the institution of the picnic has been industrialized and requires not only tools but machine tools to make these tools; and we do not doubt that the picnic industry has to be re-tooled every year or so to keep up with the mode. There are trick grills of many kinds, mills, furnaces, special implements, containers, even costumes, which picnics now require. And you go to a picnic in ten or twenty minutes, or even in nothing flat.

It was different in the unforgotten times of old. Then you knew the night before that you were going on a picnic. The plans, as likely as not, had been discussed for a week. You watched the weather carefully, hoping for sunshine and a cool breeze. Some preparations were always made before the family went to bed, and others were begun immediately before breakfast. You had to get an early start because the grove or the beach was several miles away and the drive should be completed before the heat of the day, which was reserved for the picnic itself.

That drive to the picnic ground was a great conditioner. It was a blend of jollity and impatience. The minutes that passed were large, roomy, old-fashioned minutes and everyone had an opportunity to watch them coming and to see them in retrospect after they slipped softly by. After the first quarter mile, horse flies usually joined the party and went the rest of the journey, adding to the feeling of leisure, since horse flies never hurry. You could smell the sweet fern along the way. No one smells sweet fern on the way to a picnic any more.

One form of picnic has now become the cook-out, held in the home grounds, so that there is no journey at all. And in cases where distance must be covered, it is not a factor. The essence of the old days has dissolved under the influence of the internal combustion motor.

An appraisal of the summer business in July, as the month is closing, seems to indicate a generally high level, with particularly busy weekends. Retail business of every sort is up, most available houses have been occupied, and although hotel business in general seemed slightly off, as has the rooming business, individual experiences are so different that it is hard to form an accurate generalization.

The most specific estimate for July, made yesterday by Alfred A. Averill, Edgartown postmaster, was that the month had been ten per cent off from last year, weighted not only from the postoffice standpoint but from that of rooming houses. He thought it likely that the balance of the season might offset the deficiency, and there have been encouraging signs.

Not only are most houses in all the towns occupied, but there are signs that more people are staying in them than usual; for instance reports from laundries which are a good barometer of the population in residence here. During the third week in July, the Island’s principal laundry reported home patronage up fifty-eight per cent.

With respect to volume, the florist business has hit an all-time high. There have never been as many greenhouses and florist shops on the Island as today, and all of them are doing a wholesome business.

Compiled by Hilary Wall
library@mvgazette.com