WHISTLING DON

   There was a man in South Lubec, Don Gates, who had an unusual talent. He could whistle in four octaves and trill his tones until they sent shivers up and down your spine. Every place he ever went you could hear him whistle for miles around so naturally he was called Whistling Don Gates. His fame spread likewildfire throughout the whole state of Maine, so when he graduated from High School he was offered a musical scholarship at the University in Orono. As it turned out he had to room with two other men from Portland and each had an IQ that was far superior to that of Mr. Gates.

Mr. Gates knew a lot about fish and lobsters and even got an A in whistling, but all of his other subjects for the first quarter were failing marks.For some reason or other the two Portland men took a liking to Whistling Don and vowed to do everything possible to get him through college. They worked with him day and night and after four years of struggle they stood together to graduate. The two Portland students were in the top three of their class and poor Whistling Don came in dead last. He did however finish and get his sheepskin.

   �What are you two going to do now that we�ve graduated?� Mr. Gates inquired of his two friends.

   "We�re going back to Portland where the big bucks are. What are you going to do?� one of them asked.

   �I�ve got to go back to South Lubec. All my friends are there, except you two, and all my family is there,� Mr. Gates answered allowing his true feelings to show. �I�ll never forget what you two did for me.�

   The trio parted as the brilliant duo headed south and Dummy Gates headed almost due east.

   Three years later the men in Portland got a phone call from their friend in South Lubec.
   �Why don�t you two take a vacation and come see me. It would be fun to talk over old times.�

   �We can�t possibly do that,� one of them said, �we started our own business here in Portland just after we graduated and we haven�t quite made it yet. The truth is we�re both head over heels in debt.�

   �I�m sorry to hear that,� the dummy of the group said. �I think you need a vacation so if you want me to I�ll send my plane down to pick you up. Don�t pack anything, I have every thing here you�ll need.�

   The two men were curious about their old friend so they closed up their business for a couple days and flew to South Lubec in Mr. Gates new airplane. 

They landed on the sand bar that runs nearly the length of South Lubec and as the plane came to a halt the biggest car either of the men had ever seen was there to greet them. Old Dummy jumped out and shook his friends hands so hard and long they feared they might fall off. When they retreated to the safety of the car they were driven up a tar road that led to a house of some eleven thousand square feet.

   Four gardeners were tending to the gardens and flowers and male and female servants were everywhere obeying their boss�s every command.

   Inside the house the walls struggled to hold the weight of the expensive pictures hanging there. Crystal chandeliers sent rainbows traveling around the room and bouncing off the walls. It took nearly two hours for the visitors to check out the house and when the tour ended they were led into a dining room that was as big as the houses they lived in.

   They each dined on a two pound lobster and a fourteen ounce steak after they had eaten their soup and salad. Fifty year old French wine was offered along with any drink the visitors wanted.

   At the end of the meal they went to a room that held a billiard table, sofas, a huge fireplace, and as they sat back enjoying a fresh Cuban cigar one of the men asked Mr. Gates,    �What happened? Did someone die and leave you a ton of money?�

   �Goodness, no,� Mr. Gates answered and his face lit up with a big smile. �I worked hard for everything I own. I�m into several things right now and as I only make three-per-cent profit on every item, I�m surprised how the money keeps rolling in.�

   �What are you into?� one asked.

   �Well, let me see,� Mr. Gates said trying to think of all the things he was doing. �The first thing I did was go to a phonograph record studio and have them make some records of me whistling. I sold a bundle of them at three-per-cent. Then I hired some men to dig clams for me. That worked out so well I started buying all the lobsters I could and shipped them to a wholesaler in Portland. There are all kinds of fish around here so I started a cannery to make cat food. I had a chance to buy some blueberry fields and now I own several hundred acres of them all over the state. I own two sardine boats and I�m trying to purchase a sardine factory right now. I�ve even been asked to run for Mayor.�

   �Boy, you have been busy,� one of the men said looking into the eyes of his host, �but how can you make so much money at three-per-cent.�

   �It�s as easy as can be,� Mr. Gates answered. �I paid a dollar for each record and sold it for three. I buy a lobster for a dollar and I sell it for three dollars. I buy a bushel of clams for a dollar and I sell it for three dollars. It cost me a dollar to make a case of cat food and I sell it for three dollars. Three-per-cent is all it takes to keep the money rolling in.�