Canadians had also a great liking for the islands, for not only were
they on their own soil there, but in sixty hours they could transport
themselves from the ice and snow of Montreal and Toronto to a climate
where roses and geraniums bloomed at Christmas, and where orange and
lemon trees and great wine-coloured drifts of Bougainvillaa mocked at
the futile efforts of winter to touch them. The Bishop of Bermuda, who
also included Newfoundland in his See, declared that climatically his
diocese was absolutely ideal, for he passed the six winter months in
Bermuda and the remainder of the year in Newfoundland, thus escaping
alike the rigorous winters of the northern island and the fierce
summer heat of the southern one. The Bishop himself was a
Newfoundlander, as were many of the Church of England clergy in
Bermuda. A humorous friend of mine, a sapper in charge of the
"wireless," shared to the full my liking for the islands and their
pleasant inhabitants, but positively detested Prospect Camp where he
was stationed. Prospect, though healthy enough, is wind-swept, very
dusty, and quite devoid of shade. He declared that the well-known hymn
should be altered, and ought to run:
"What though the Ocean breezes
Blow o'er Bermuda's isle;
Where every man is pleasing
And only Prospect vile.
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