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 SATIRICAL. 
 
 
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 March 9 1917 
 
 
 
"^1 
 
 HAMILTON BOARD OF TRADE 
 
 I 
 
 R E S F E C M: F U L T. \- D E D I C A P E I > 
 
 ■|(> THK 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I.NI'KOIM ( \nU\ 
 
 6 
 
 ( li,\l'll-,K I. I iic I'lsiiiiioliL^t 1' " .Sncii'ly- riir oirat 
 r.iii^t.' ■>( l"!iliir;iiiiiii In Ik' A(|\;u1(ci| I'li/f iil'li'ii'd 
 tor the l>c.-l 'irii^ina' I'lipcr. . . . i) l6 
 
 C" ■ I'.K II, XfM MLfiiii!,; iif till' I'isli .Munm'iV 
 
 ty (iixal >uc(cs> (if llic Sclu'iiir I'apcr No. 
 
 i— •■' (^)iii|i I l,M\ llinnir -- i\r\('ii;L;r'- 1 I(i\\ ;i (''Hii- 
 
 miinity lo-l ;) I ,iiniirr.ir\- Stoiv of a ( anailiaii 
 
 '■;tI- • . . . . .17-40 
 
 Ui,\iri:k in. I'apri \.,. 2.- '• krlirin- fioui 
 
 iSiisinr-" Tlicl.\ii(.l l'(.).iilarity--A 'I'ruc Hill, 41 54 
 
 <^1I\|'T1K I\, I'aiHi \<,. 3.--"'riK^ C'liainpiaiii 
 ^ alley I )i'stii|)ti\f aii<l I lisLiwital- A SuniiiKT 
 ''■'■•1' 55 72 
 
 CllAlTKK V. I'apfi No. .|. "An i:.\il,, (Von, 
 Paradise"' — A KoiiKUur of Real l.ili- i'luili 
 Stranger llian Fiction, . . . 7 ^ 100 
 
 CiJAi'TKK \-I.— ]>aper Xo. 5. — " Kidn^wav" A 
 
 Scrap of History snatdied from Oblivion, . roi -127 
 
 CllAl'TKK VII.-- Paper No. 6. — " Notes about 
 Kingston "—The " ups and downs '" of a Munici- 
 pality's Career, .... 128-135 
 
 Chai'Ikk Vlll.-Papfi- No, 7. — "The Thousand 
 Islands"-- Alexandria Hay -Wells' Island Camp 
 ^''■•^""<K • . . . . 136-142 
 

 ( liAI'l !■ K 
 
 Ci>/lti'///S. 
 
 IX. I'nixT No. S. •• Kiiii;>l<>n, Adic-u '"' 
 VUf l'<iiiU'iHi;ir\ Kockwood 
 
 \-\luin ■ rcni;>i'' l\r;illir 
 
 Life 
 
 143 «5i 
 
 (11 \i'i'l-.k \. l^Nainina 
 ,;i!\ III' 1 ito >i''. irliiry i 
 
 Uoii III iIk' I'ai 
 
 irr^ 
 
 Dupli- 
 
 )i,-.|l 1\ ClX'! I 
 
 ( Id-.in!'' Scriu- 
 
 n^-niiili' m >'l 
 
 llic l''i-^ii M'Mi;,;vr -. Si.cK'iy, 
 
 i:;2 168 
 
 Ai'l'lA IM\ (.'(iiiuimm 
 
 ihr hr-t r'ii;i!iU'i<il a "I'ai 
 
 I'aiici 
 
 hU'li w :i -^ nil 
 'rt'^iilriil . ■- 
 
 ~l i!iui.'rr)niin'i,u-l) rci«.'C 
 
 led hv Uic 
 
 hciiiu f 
 
 iiliri,'l\- uir.MM 
 
 lliV of place 
 
 \mn)Y' lilt I (iiuiM'lilive I'aprr.' 
 
 M.Sii, 
 
 M \i:k I'WAIN 
 llu* I'liiuilaci' 
 
 \\a li'li 
 
 169-179 
 
 lOKV. lliiw it alVcclcd 
 
 icSo 191 
 
I 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 i 
 
 To the several members of the " Fish Mongers' 
 Society" who have so ably and cheerfully assisted 
 me in this work, and to whom I am mainly in- 
 debted for the privilege of presenting it, I beg to 
 tender my warmest gratitude. 
 
 Some of the papers have since appeared in 
 periodicals in various i)arts of the country, but, 
 perhaps, that fact will not be 7)ery derogatory to 
 their appearance in a collective form. 
 
 THE WRITER. 
 
 1 
 
 sorrc 
 '* up 
 Scar 
 
 r 
 
 carei 
 
 of tl 
 
 theii 
 
 four 
 
 prol 
 
 had 
 
 due 
 
 reflt 
 
 tion 
 
 witl 
 cov 
 ber 
 
iWWIi 
 
 1) 
 
 1 
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 " My sons '' said a wealthy land-owner as his 
 sorrowing tamil) gathered round his death bed, 
 '* upon tlie farm is buried a golden treasure. 
 Search for it." 
 
 'J'he legend shows that the injunction was most 
 carefully cherished by the family, and every inch 
 of the land was turned over, again and again, in 
 their eagerness to obtain the coveted gold. They 
 found it not, but the golden harvest became more 
 prolific each year, and when in time those sons 
 had amassed great wealth, through the extra pro- 
 ductiveness of the well-tilled soil, they paused and 
 reflected upon the wisdom of their father's injunc- 
 tion. 
 
 So, it is presumi)tiously believed, will be the case 
 with this little satirical work. In it will be dis- 
 Cvjvered " points '' which it will be well to remem- 
 ber in ones every-day life. The characters which 
 
 m 
 
•■'^BJSHPWH;*' 
 
 VIU 
 
 Preface. 
 
 it attempts to brictiy portray have not 1)een clioscn 
 from out-of-the-way places, but arc sucli as one 
 meets with everywhere, and comprise landlortls. 
 tenants, haihffs, fops, hobbyists, ward polilicians, 
 etc. 
 
 If the "Papers" succeed in helping to while 
 away an occasional odd half hour the writer will i)e 
 glad. 
 
 T 
 
 m 
 
n 
 
 
 (i 
 
 PRIZE PAPERS." 
 
 CHAPTER /. 
 
 , >., 
 
 IHK FlSH-MON(iER S SOCIEIV— THE GREAT CAUSE OF 
 
 EDUCATION TO BE ADVANCED PRIZE OFFERED 
 
 FOR BEST ORKMNAL PAPER ON ANY SUBJECT. 
 
 One of tilt" most important events which trans- 
 pired at the recent general meeting of the Fish- 
 Mongers' Society, was the election of Mr. Jonas 
 Uppergill as Prnsident. 
 
 Mr. Uppergill was a mild, good-natured man, 
 somewhat past the meridian of life, and the 
 whole of his earlier years had been spent in the 
 fish business. He had succeeded in c^cquiring a 
 handsome competency, and was, latterly, devoting 
 the most o*" his leisure time to what he was pleased 
 to term '"the higher branches of the Piscatory 
 Science." 
 
 Unlike most of the elections, of former times, 
 there were, on the occasion referred to, actually 
 several candidates for the office of President. There 
 was, therefore, considerable rivalry among them, 
 
 A 
 
lO 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 1 
 
 11 
 
 r i 
 
 and it can be readily understood that the friends 
 of each exerted themselves to the utmost limits of 
 honesty and good nature to secure the honor for 
 their special favorite. 
 
 As was generally expected, the contest was an 
 exceedingly close one. When the scrutineers had 
 completed their labors and officially announced the 
 required majority of votes to be in favor of Mr. 
 Uppergill, there arose a great burst of applause, 
 and the noisy rejoicement continued to swell, until 
 finally, the whole of the meeting joined in the con- 
 gratulatory demonstration. Never — was the unan- 
 imous opinion — never in the history of the society 
 had there been manifested such intense enthusiasm 
 at any general meeting. 
 
 When the tumult of applause had somewhat 
 subsided, the President elect arose and calmly and 
 <|uietly returned thanks for the honor conferred 
 upon him. 
 
 In the course of his pleasant remarks, he said • 
 " Although keenly sensitive of your good will, and 
 deeply grateful for the mark of resj^ect which you 
 have just shown in thus electing me to preside o\er 
 this honorable society. Yet, I feel that it is not so 
 much the man you have honored ; it is his policy. 
 I have always had the welfare of the Fish-Mon- 
 gers' Society at heart." (Hear, hear.) 
 
 i 
 ' 
 
The Fish-Mongers' Society. 
 
 1 1 
 
 s 
 f 
 r 
 
 •] 
 
 " And, as many of you are doubtless aware. 1 
 have long believed that its sphere of usefulness 
 should be extended." (Applause.) 
 
 " We have, it is true, accomplished a great work, 
 in having elevated the "Piscatory Art" — an art 
 that is dear to all of us — to the front rank amons: 
 the sciences." 
 
 " We have, ciiso, done a noble work in the way 
 of materially assisting those of our fellow-laborers 
 whose hauls have not been so abundantly blessed 
 as our own. But I feel, gentlemen, that the Fish- 
 Mongers' Society should have a wider 'sea" as it 
 were, and, while aiding the developement of our 
 own favorite art, it might, at the same time, do 
 something towards encouraging the great cause of 
 education." (Prolonged applause.) 
 
 " 1 do not propose the establishment of new 
 schools or colleges, no, no ; far from it. The 
 school system in vogue to-day, gentlemen, is a most 
 admirable one, and appears to meet all the de- 
 mands required by an advanced civilization.' 
 (Cheers.) 
 
 " But, as our Society has funds lying idle in its 
 treasury, I deem it to be our duty, to show, as a 
 body, our appreciation of that magnificent school 
 system, by giving some tangible reward to the most 
 dilie;ent of those scholars who avail themselves of 
 
■rismm^' 
 
 12 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 its advantages, in the acquirement of a useful edu- 
 cation." (Here, here, and loud applause.) 
 
 Mr. Uppergill makes a short pause, surveys the 
 audience and looks highl> gratified. He then pro- 
 ceeds, leisurely : 
 
 " I am sure 1 need not say more at present. '1 
 will leave the matter in the hands of my friends,' 
 and I earnestly trust that some action will be taken 
 in regard to this great question before the meeting 
 adjourns.'* (Much cheering.) 
 
 Everybody acknowledged that this speech was 
 the best that Mr. Uppergill had ever made, and, 
 most likely, that honest old gentleman was as much 
 surprised, as delighted, with it himself. 
 
 Mr. Eely, permanent secretai)' to the society, (a 
 shrewd-looking young man,) heartily approved of 
 the noble suggestion given them by their honored 
 President, and believed the time had arrived for 
 the' society to set to work to make itself felt through- 
 out the land. 
 
 Mr. Minnows, Vice President, (an active, rest 
 less and pompous little fellow) would give the mat- 
 ter his most cordial support. In fact, the more he 
 thought over it, the more firmly he became con- 
 vinced that such a course was exactly what ought 
 to be done, because it would tend to convince the 
 
The Fish-Mongers' Society. 
 
 13 
 
 
 i 
 
 outside world that the Fish-Mongers' Sotiety was no 
 mere mercenary organization. 
 
 Mr. Roddy, Ex-President, (a not very ostenta- 
 tious, but practical man,) mentioned, that he had 
 long held the opinion that the society's influence 
 should extend beyond the limits of its own pond. 
 
 This little witticism on the part of Mr, Roddy, 
 created much merriment in the meeting, and every 
 body seemed to be in the ha])]:)iest humor. 
 
 The next speaker was Mr. Redtin, a tall, thin, 
 stern-looking man, who evidently belonged to that 
 enviable class of i)Oople who were never known to 
 jumj) at anything rashly. 
 
 Mr. Redfin very guardedly expressed himself as 
 favorable to the idea. i)rovided it could be done 
 with safety, ttc. 
 
 Mr. Coddles, (n plum, red faced little man. with 
 fire in his eyes,) jumped U]) and gave tlie meeting, 
 (but chiefly aimed at Mr. Redfin,) a "piece of his 
 mind," as follows : 
 
 " Caution is all very well, but I have no patience 
 with those peo])le who are always crying care ! care ' 
 Talk about safety in this matter, why, it is a •[iies- 
 tion of glory. The society will make a name for 
 itself. The idea of l^eing instrumental in encour. 
 aging the advancement of education is a capital 
 
14 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 I 
 
 one. And it seems to me that a very effectual way 
 of showing our appreciation of our splendid school 
 system would be to reward the scholars." (Here 
 here.) 
 
 "I would, therefore, beg to suggest that a series 
 of prizes be offered by the society, for the best 
 original paper on any subject. This would stimu- 
 late the scholars to more vigorous application, and 
 the successful competitors would reflect honor up- 
 on their tutors. (Applause.) 
 
 Mr. Grub, (a not very eloquent but an exceed- 
 ingly useful member,) would like to have some in 
 formation as to the extent of the society's surplus 
 capital. 
 
 Whereupon, Mr. Mullet, the Treasurer, was call- 
 ed upon to read a statement as to the financial 
 standing of the society. Much gratification being 
 engendered by the entirely satisfactory exhibit^ a 
 vote of thanks was tendered to the treasurer. Sev- 
 eral of the members then successively submitted 
 resolutions, but as none of them seemed to ex- 
 press the exact idea desired, Mr. Eely, and one or 
 two others, proceeded to concoct something which 
 might meet with the unanimous approval of the 
 society. The combined efforts of these individu- 
 als resulted in the following : 
 
 "resolution." 
 " Whereas, this modern but honorable body of 
 
, 
 
 ■ 
 
 The Fish-Mongers' Society. 
 
 15 
 
 Fish-Mongers, desires to assist in advancing the 
 great cause of education ; and, whereas, the socie- 
 ty would, at the same time, give an expression of 
 its unqualified approval of the national school sys- 
 tem. Be it, therefore, enacted that the sum of 
 ($500) five hundred dollars of the society's funds, 
 be now, and is, set apart for the purpose specified. 
 And be it further enacted that the said sum of five 
 hundred dollars, so set apart, be now offered as a 
 PRIZE or PREMIUM for the best original paper on 
 any subject, which shall be handed in to this soci- 
 ty, (in the manner hereinafter mentioned,) not 
 later than twelve o'clock (noon) of the thirty-first 
 day of December, one thousand eight hundred 
 and ." 
 
 <,i 
 
 CONDITIONS. 
 
 \ 
 
 " I St. Competitors to specify the schools which 
 they have attended." 
 
 "2d. Papers to be enclosed in a sealed packet 
 and addressed to the President of the society." 
 
 " 3d. All papers submitted to become the proi>- 
 erty of the society." 
 
 This resolution was unanimously adopted, duly 
 signed, and instructions were given to have it in- 
 
 i 
 
i6 
 
 Prize Papets. 
 
 serted a few times in the advertisement columns 
 of the daily newspapers. 
 
 Much conversation, of a wide and general na- 
 ture, then ensued, after which, the meeting ad- 
 journed, and the members went away, deeply con- 
 scious of the growing importance of the society. 
 
 .-# 
 

 The Fish-Momyers^ Soiietw 
 
 »7 
 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NEXT MKE'lING OF THE F1SH-M0N(JERS' SOCIETY 
 
 (JREAT SUCCESS OF THE SCHEME PAPER NO. I : 
 
 "(^)UiP Hawthorne's revenge — how a commu- 
 nity LOST A LUMINARV STORY OF A CANADIAN 
 LAD, 
 
 As can well be imagined, the uniciue and liberal 
 propositions of the Fish-Monger Society took the 
 community completely by surprise. The more 
 prominent members werebeing continually referred 
 to in regard to the general object of the society : 
 the (jualificationsrequired for eligibility formember 
 shi}) ; the probable course the society would be 
 likely to pursue in the future ; and lastly, as to the 
 genuineness of the offered prize. 
 
 Those of the citizens who were known to have 
 been in the habit of sending letters to the papers 
 were now regarded with much interest, ar^ it was 
 observed that the attendance at the various libra- 
 ries had much increased of late. Everything 
 seemed to indicate that there would be a heavy 
 competition for the coveted prize. The society 
 suddenly sprung into popularity. The scheme 
 was regarded with so much general interest that it 
 
i8 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 ! :; 
 
 
 was deemed advisable to announce that the ex- 
 amination of the papers woujd take place at a 
 public meeting of the society. The citizens gen- 
 erally were cordially invited to be present. 
 
 Consequently, when the eventful thirty-first of 
 December came round, the Fish-Mongers' Hall 
 was crowded to its utmost capacity. 
 
 'I'he members were elated, the audience was 
 wilhng to be pleased, and everything justified the 
 pleasantest anticipations. In due time Mr. Up- 
 pergill, the President, was escorted to the chair, 
 and, when order was called, proceeded to give ex- 
 pression to his gratification at the hearty response 
 which had attended the offer of the society. He 
 was glad to see so many present, and was able to 
 announce that no less than eight papers had been 
 handed in. Placing the eight mysterious packets 
 upon the table before him, he waved his white 
 pocket-handkerchief a few times in front of his 
 nose, and then explained to the audience the man- 
 ner in which it had been decided that the examin- 
 ation should be conducted. The arrangement 
 was very simple. The Secretary would read all of 
 the papers, and the merits of each would be sub- 
 mitted to open vote at the end of the series. This 
 announcement, conveying, as it did, implicit con- 
 fidence in the integrity and good sense of the as- 
 sembled people, was received with hearty applause. 
 
 
 i.1 
 an( 
 an< 
 mai 
 
Quip Hawthorn's Revenge. 
 
 19 
 
 ex 
 It a 
 [en- 
 
 of 
 fall 
 
 Mr. Eely, the Secretary, then stepped forward, 
 and, taking up one of the packets, broke the seal 
 and proceeded to read, in a clear and elociuent 
 manner, what was termed 
 
 Paper No. i. 
 
 (^LIP MAWrilORN'S REVENGE. 
 
 lIoti< ii Cotntnunity lost a tAtminary —Stoiy of a Canadian 
 
 Lad. 
 
 " Well, 1 declare ; there are those Rossell girls 
 again. I wonder if we are ever to have the luxury 
 of coming here without meeting them." 
 
 The speaker was Miss Smythe, and she expressed 
 herself {sotto voice) to her two lady companions, as 
 they all seated themselves in rustic rocking chairs 
 on the deck of the little steamer " Ocean Gem." 
 The outline of her delicate nose was somewhat 
 ruffled as she spoke. 
 
 "It is provoking ; and there are those Nugent 
 people, too, in their gaudy display, and they can't 
 find any better amusement than to laugh and gig- 
 gle with that Kawihorn boy. For my part, I can't 
 see how those girls can be spared so much from 
 that millinery shop." It was Miss Buntington 
 (that lovely little blonde) who thus gave vent to 
 her feelings, and it cannot be said that her lady- 
 like face was illumined by a particularly sweet 
 
/T 
 
 20 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 :\ I 
 
 1 1 
 
 I 
 
 
 smile as she pettishly turned her chair a little, so 
 that she would not be com])elled to look at these 
 obnoxious people. 
 
 " It's my opinion, girls," remarked Miss Sunny- 
 ford, with an air of utter despair, " there is but 
 one way of doing, and that is not to notice them 
 at all, for, depend upon it, such people cannot 
 take a 
 
 What the balance cf this lady's remark was to 
 have been can only be arrived at by surmise, for 
 she was obliged to leave the sentence unfinished 
 in consequence of their two gentlemen friends 
 having, at this point, succeeded in comfortably 
 ensconsing themselves beside them, and, of course, 
 that bit of dainty conversation was intended only 
 for feminine ears. Marvellous to say, all evidence 
 of recent displeasure vanished instantly, and the 
 faces of the three young ladies assumed expres 
 sions the most sweet and pleasing. Indeed, at 
 that moment, they might easily be mistaken for 
 the " Three Graces," personified. 
 
 The gentlemen proceed to light their cigars, and 
 then there seems to be a general interchange of 
 quiet little pleasantries, above which can be heard, 
 occasionally, " the silvery ring of soft laughter," 
 as the poet so nicely puts it. 
 
 The little party seem to be exceedingly happy. 
 
 I 
 
 the 
 nex 
 
 cig£ 
 
 M- 
 
Quip Hawthorn's Revenge. 
 
 2\ 
 
 \ 
 
 
 After a time, a little opening having occurred in 
 the conversation, Mr. Arundel (the gentleman 
 next to Miss Smythe) deliberately removed the 
 cigar from his mouth, and, with a little yawn, re- 
 marked— 
 
 " I quite agree with your remarks of this morn- 
 ing, Miss Buntington ; this is not a bad way of 
 |)utting in an hour or two these warm days." 
 
 •' 1 am glad you are enjoying it," said Miss 
 Buntington, sweetly, as she brushed away a stray 
 bit of cigar smoke with her fan. 
 
 "It would be rather nice, old fellow," leisurely 
 remarked Mr. Spoucher (the little gentleman with 
 the blonde moustache) if it weren't for that swarm 
 o^ youngsters over there, kicking up such a per- 
 petual row. What a pity their mothers don't keep 
 them shut up somewhere, at home." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Spoucher ; how uncharitable you 
 are," said Miss Sunnyford, feelingly. " You ought 
 to remember that the fresh air will do them ever 
 so much good — the little dears." 
 
 " It does seem to have an exhilarating effect 
 upon their lungs," coolly retorted Mr. Spoucher, 
 and the witticism met with a nice little unanimous 
 applause. 
 
 "A year or two ago," remarked Miss Smythe, 
 
22 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 Vi. I 
 
 If 
 
 plaintively, "these little afternoon excursions to 
 Monckton were very enjoyable, but latterly they 
 have become so common. It is not pleasant, you 
 know, to be thrown face to face with one's wash- 
 erwoman's daughter." 
 
 " I fail to see anything very grievous about that, 
 especially if the daughter happens to be pretty," 
 said Mr. Arundel, as he looked toward the other 
 end of the boat. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Arundel," ejaculated Miss Sunnyford, 
 in an alarmed manner, and with curious emphasis ; 
 then she was obliged to cover her face with her 
 fan for a moment, while the other two ladies looked 
 shocked. 
 
 "As there is no law to prevent any one's coming 
 so long as they pay the necessary quarter for a 
 ticket, 1 suppose we will have to put up with the 
 company or stay away ourselves, or else charter 
 the boat for our own special accommodation," 
 said Mr. Spoucher, after considerable reflection, 
 and with this philosophical conclusion the subject 
 was dropped, and the conversation turned on 
 topics more in keeping with the poetic fancy of 
 youth. 
 
 While these most excellent young people, repre- 
 sentatives of some of the " first families " of the 
 old town of H are thus whiling away the time, 
 
 us 
 
 "0< 
 
 trip 
 
i 
 
 4 
 
 Quip Hawthorn^ s Revenge, 
 
 n 
 
 enjoying the delightful breeze of the lake, and 
 basking in the luxury of conscious superiority, let 
 us take a little peep in the other parts of the 
 " Ocean Gem," as she slowly proceeds on her daily 
 trip to the little village of Monckton. 
 
 Those two nice looking, fair-haired girls, wi^^^h 
 blue ribbons, over there, ai'e the daughters ot Mr. 
 Rossell, a successful bricklayer and stonemason, 
 
 of H . The elderlv woman beside them is 
 
 their mother. The rather smart, middle-aged, 
 warm-hearted looking man, to whom she is talking, 
 is Mr. Thompson, the butcher. 
 
 He is ver>' fond of the bright Httle curly headed 
 urchin on his knee, and . also of the other one 
 which is climbing up the back of his chair. The 
 tw o black-eyed girls, who are talking and laughing 
 with the Rossells, are the daughters of Mrs. Nug- 
 ent, a widow, wliose husband was killed years ago 
 in a railway accident. They have cheerful dispo- 
 sitions, and are lively and gay. The happiness 
 beaming in thtir young faces, it may be observed, 
 springs from a feeling of independence, for they 
 maintain themselves by the use of the needle, as 
 millions of brave givls have done since the world 
 began. 
 
 That good-natured, frolicsome young fellow, 
 among them, and from whom the four girls are 
 
! 
 
 24 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 endeavoring to recover some trifling article which 
 he apparently has just stolen from some of them, 
 Hawthorn boy " — Quip Hawthorn — chiefly 
 
 IS 
 
 noted in the town for his good natured humor and 
 indolent habits. 
 
 They are having lots of fun, and, to all appear- 
 ances, the girls are too many for Quip. By some 
 means his chair gets toppled over and he rolls off" 
 on the floor, to the great amusement of all, includ- 
 ing Mrs. Rossell and Mr. Thompson, not forget- 
 ting the two little Thompsons. They all laugh 
 heartily, and it is not necessary tr use a micros- 
 cope to detect the contempt depicted in three 
 maidenly faces in another part of the boat. Not- 
 withstanding the frowns that are shot at them, the 
 playful group continue their innocent amusement 
 in this lively manner, for their mirthfulness is all 
 unhampered by the restraints of morbid afl'ectation. 
 
 The little steamer contains a goodly number of 
 the townspeople, comprising old gentlemen with 
 spectacles and newspai)er ; nice old ladies, some 
 of whom are knitting ; fathers and mothers witl^ 
 their families, and dozens of young people of both 
 sexes. All appear to be enjoying the delightful 
 sail, and, no doubt, to many these cheap little ex- 
 cursions over the water are a genuine luxury. 
 
 The youngsters are running about playfully, 
 
 t 
 
 1 
 
i 
 
 i 
 
 Quip Hawthorn's Revmge. 
 
 25 
 
 mothers are chatting with one another, doubtless 
 describing how their Johnnies and Tommies and 
 Sissies got over the whooping cough, etc., while 
 fathers, sitting by, occasionally join in the conver- 
 sation, or quietly take a nap, just as their inclina- 
 tions ma)- dictate. 
 
 A peaceful, happy scene. 
 
 That little bright-eyed four year old girl, climb- 
 ing up the low railing at the side of the boat, there, 
 is in danger, and its mother moves quickly over 
 and takes it away. In a few minutes, however, 
 the child is back again, and, before observed by 
 any one. has climbed up to the top of the railing, 
 and is actually dangling o\erthe water. A woman 
 near by attempts to reach it, but too late : the 
 little thing lo.ses its balance and falls off into the 
 lake. Inhtantly the cry goes up, "child overboard." 
 The startled ])assengers rush towards the stern of 
 the boat, and in a second all is in a wild confusion. 
 'I'he screams of the distressed mother as she cries, 
 '• my child ! my child I " are heartrending, and 
 itrong arms have to restrain her from flinging her- 
 self in after her darling. 
 
 In his commendable eftbrts to do something, 
 Mr. Spoucher hurriedly throws a chair and a 
 lady's parasol overboard. A dozen voices are 
 shouting. " throw out a rope," " where's a life pre 
 
26 
 
 Prhe Papers. 
 
 \ H 
 
 h 
 
 I • 
 
 
 server?" etc., and then a young fellow is seen to 
 tear off his coat and p'unge head foremost into 
 the lake. There is an awful suspense until he re- 
 appears on the surface of the water. He comes 
 up within a few feet of the drowning child. An 
 instant later he is seen to reach out and grasp the 
 little thing, and is holding its head high out of the 
 water. In the meantime the steamer has been 
 stopped, and a small boat has put out to the res- 
 cue. In a few minutes the child is returned to its 
 mothers arms, not much the worse of the duck- 
 ing, and its brave rescuer is warmly <heered and 
 congratulated. 
 
 It is Quip Hawthorn. 
 
 .'\11 on board had. of course, been thrown into 
 a state of intense ex<:itement, and for the remain- 
 der of the trip not much else could be talked of 
 but the narrow escape of the child, and its gallant 
 rescuer. 
 
 "" Very cleverly done," remarked Mr. .\rundel. 
 In which apposition Mr. Spoucher signified his 
 concurrence. 
 
 '' Who would ever have thouufht it was in him ? ' 
 solilociuized Miss Sunnyford, and a little while aft- 
 erwards the dainty little Miss Buntington actually 
 smiled and spoke a word or t\N(j to Quip. 
 
 The kind hearted Mr. J'hompson went up to 
 
 hin 
 saij 
 wh| 
 
 sui 
 
 pal 
 tht 
 
I 
 
 -i 
 
 Quip Hawthorn' s Rci-eih^c. 27 
 
 him and, putting his rough hand on his shoulder, 
 said, with moist eyes, '' Voure a brave lad, Quij^ : 
 why the little thing would have been drowned, 
 sure, if it hadn't been lor you." 
 
 Next evening the daily ''Observer and l)es 
 patch " contained a paragraph l)riefl\- describing 
 the incident. It spoke favorably of Quip's j)rompt 
 action and concluded as follows : - "This brave 
 young fellow who is known as ' Qui]) Hawthorn ' 
 ^^as rather a singular history which has now for the 
 first time been brought to our notice. He is about 
 eighteen, and for the last twelve years he has re- 
 sided in this town with Mrs. Mayhew. a kind old 
 widow ladv without children of her own. Nothing 
 is known of his parents or antecedents. I welve 
 years ago, it seems, the b(^y was placed on board 
 the cars at Montreal by a gentlemanly-looking man 
 who recjuested the conductor to see him safely off 
 at the station in this town. A letter addressed to 
 Mrs. Mahew was also given in charge of the con- 
 ductor. In due time the railway officials safely 
 delivered the child at Mrs, Mahews house, where 
 he has remained ever since. The following is a 
 copy of the letter which at «~ompanied the boy : 
 
 ■V 
 
 
 Mrs. Mayhew. 
 
 to 
 
 
 Dear Madam. 1 wish you to take charge of my 
 little son, Quip, for a few years, until I return to 
 
28 
 
 J'rhe Papers. 
 
 4 
 
 :!' Ill 
 
 inli 
 
 i 
 
 I' 
 
 •.' • ' iicu was tne m<;f u'it.-i-. ,.r i • 
 -, (now dead^ who was \ 2. '^ '"'^ '"""- 
 
 •closed vo„ win fi„rt r , L "'^ >■""'■•*• *•■:"■ 
 
 y--you willLeKv lik ''^«'""'"g °'" each 
 
 '<' -hool. Upon ™. J , f i;:""""" --"d '>'■" 
 further education and ,ri 1 , ™"^' ''"^ '"^ 
 
 yourtronhle. " '" ""I''-'' --""rd y «, for all 
 
 VoLirs /■aithfiilly. 
 
 K,CHARI, HawPHOKN. 
 
 "■"itrango to say. Mrs. MavI.ew ,..,n 
 <=^-r having known any one o I ""' '■''''""^' 
 "•orn, nor was she a«al "! ,^ ' ""'""-' <"" "«''- 
 
 -'■eceinMontrL r^Kor.tht'"*^'''"'-^''^'''"'^ 
 'ances came reguhrlv to . ^. *''-*"' "'^^ '''-■■""- 
 l-^ingcompanfil:;-^ "-"."-private 
 
 •«-ever, the ren.ittances ceased I T'^' "^"■ 
 "me to this she has henJ , "*^ '^'"™ 'hat 
 
 -''f-trrc^d^"-^-^''--"^ 
 
 -ent by the matte a ' r '' '"' "^ '^' '"™"'-^ 
 
 (Mp continued to I.e kn '*'"''" ^''"^"'"'"' »"J 
 ,,„,,., I.e known as '• that Hawthorn 
 
Quip Haii't/ioni's Revenue. 
 
 29 
 
 I'ARI II, 
 
 'I'lic old town of H has long borne the re- 
 putation of' being a decidedly aristocratic kind of 
 j)Iace, but it was while a detachment of Her Maj- 
 esty's Regiment was stationed there that the 
 
 social lines became definitely drawn. These lines 
 <:ontinued to strengthen even after the troops had 
 l)een removed. As is no doubt the case, in most 
 all places in most all countries, the [)eople became 
 divided into two or three classes, each of wliich 
 revolved ex("lusively within itself. 
 
 Unfortunately for Quip he seemed to belong to 
 no class whatever, and as he grew older he found 
 himself obliged to stand aloof from the whole of 
 them. The first, or upper class, would have noth- 
 ing to do witli him because he had no [)osition to 
 entitle him to consideration. The secontl, (;r mid- 
 <lle class, could not take him uj) and make him 
 one of them with any safety to his reputation, be- 
 ciuise he was tabooed by the first. (Consequently 
 he had to constitute himself a class by himself, and 
 was denied all the little social privileges which tend 
 to make the young hapi)y, 
 
 As his years increased he felt his social ostra- 
 cism so keenly that at times he almost began to 
 
•JO 
 
 Prhe Papers. 
 
 I 
 
 (. 
 
 'relieve in his ow„ in.signifi<;an<x. VeverH, 1 , 
 never permitted the public ,„ /, '^"''^•''•■« '•« 
 Klinjpse or his .ortifiS '' n't ) t '''T 
 <^re'-i to maintain fh . . ' ^^" ^^"<^^eav- 
 
 "■--'nt about much it hi. '"d'fleren.x-. He 
 
 -K i.,.,..v a„;;;!;e r ;::; t-^-^'' .r>'» '""^- 
 
 Ple l>"t him down n . H '-onMderate peo^ 
 
 KO,.d-for-„othi„rfell,«- ,,; "'■"'■"""^'' '"^'"-". 
 
 portion of the nJ! • '' """''' \'">"^>^ing 
 
 ' '"^ "-^"'M general on of th,, „„„„ ^ 
 
 "■«".ed a,ains, assodatin. „.ith hinl. ""^ 
 
 ''""'""■ ''"'^' 'I'^H-opl. !.„,„. luu,, 
 
 J here is, after ill ., 
 
 -'Idadage/.-Tere /"'"''''"'' '■'■''■''''' i"^ 
 «'ill not see.- "'■"""'■'"' ^"-^ "-««^ o-l'o 
 
 ■"arkable change in „/ 'h "'"'''''''' " ™- 
 
 '"•wner : his mind w, , ^'^^' '"^^'^^ i" '"» 
 
 t-^ere was abo;: 4"" r:*^^""-^' -"-"-. and 
 
 ;', <-«.derab,e penetLl XfoT t:"''"'^^' 
 fulness which alwivs ^h, ''^^ ""'•"'- 
 
 '-rf landed him i, ^f" r^'^"^^'^ """. and which 
 "q-rted out of na, re""""'"' '"^^P-' '-^ 
 
 «a» educating himself "T 7""°'''"" "'"^ '"-■ 
 «'""ld a book. """'■'■ ^'^ ^'a-^ily as he 
 
Quip Hawt/toi'fi' s Revenge. 
 
 31 
 
 Three years after the occurrence of the incident 
 with which this little story begins, the daily " Ob- 
 server and Dispatch " aguin concentrates the at- 
 tention of the townspeople upon Quip by copying 
 the following startling advertisement from a New 
 York paper : 
 
 '' Pkrsonai,.— Information wanted of the son of 
 the late Richard Hawthorn, Esq., of Kingston, Ja- 
 maica, and formerly of Montreal, Canada East 
 'J'he boy was left many years ago in some small 
 town in Western Canada, and (if living) would now 
 be about twent)-one years of age. A handsome 
 reward will be paid for particulars that will lead to 
 his identity, whether dead or alive. Canadian pa- 
 pers please coj)y. 
 
 " Shitk <S: Shu It:, 
 
 "Barristers, &:c., 
 
 "No. - Wall Street, 
 
 "New York." 
 
 Quip immediately answered the advertisement 
 by telegraph, and next day received the following 
 brief dispatch in reply : — 
 
 " New York, — , June 186 — 
 "Quip Hawthorn, Esq., 
 
 "H . 
 
 " Come on at once. Bring all paj^rs and doc- 
 
 i 
 
32 
 
 '!■ i 
 
 n 
 
 8 ( 
 i 
 
 ^'■ite Papers. 
 
 uments with you lu^ <■ 
 
 «cie„, ^°"' "'^ '^«^' if sustained, are s„f- 
 
 " Shuik «e SHir, ,.■ ■ 
 
 Inasmuch as the documents anH 
 possesion which, i„ any way bo ' T" '" '2"''''' 
 o"gm, were of such an excLw. "■'"'' '° '''^ 
 ^b^--. not much time had .' ,f '''"^'y ''mited n„m- 
 
 Many were of fh 
 f-bt, the person ad^^';;- :<? /'" '^ "^■^' -"-" 
 ^"d^d that he could no be 7 'T" """'-' -"" 
 b*''eved him to be the ,o„ „; l"'"^' '''''d '-"ways 
 'equence. '°" °'^ "obody of any con- 
 
 This unsettled state of wibli,. ■ 
 fo^ « couple of weeks at th ^'"""^ '^""'*""e<i 
 'he same Jfew Yoric nl '' "'P''^"'°" "^ which 
 
 -""ed " Romantic ItrCrr ^ '«"« ^'-'^ 
 summarized as follows -.1' '"'"^ ''^ briefly 
 
 settled in Montreal Mr i k ®"«''"'^ »"<^ 
 
 Mr- H. brought with him a ' 
 
Qitip Hawthonfs Rei>engf. 
 
 33 
 
 re siif. 
 
 uip's 
 o his 
 iim- 
 coj- 
 the 
 
 moderate amount of capital, which he invested in 
 the wholesale grocery trade in that city. A year 
 later their happy home was further blessed with a 
 'son and heir.' 
 
 " Five years afterwards Mr. H. was overwhelmed 
 with grief at the loss of his beloved wife, and when 
 j she was laid away in the grave it seemed as though 
 his heart had been buried with her. Before she 
 died she expressed a wish that their child should 
 be sent to be reared by an aunt of hers, who then 
 I resided in a small town in Upper Canada. A few 
 
 months after the death of his wife, Mr. H. dis- 
 posed of his extensive business in Montreal, with 
 the intention of settling in the West India Islands. 
 The little boy was, accordingly, sent to the aunt, 
 as desired by his wife, and Mr. H. immediately 
 proceeded to New York, from whence he was to 
 sail. While in this city he deposited the sum of 
 four thousand dollars in Mercer and Delorn's 
 private bank, with instructions to forward the in- 
 terest accruing thereon, to the above-mentioned 
 aunt, annually, to defray the expenses of main- 
 taining the boy. 
 
 " He then proceeded to Jamaica, where he pur- 
 chased a plantation and engaged extensively in the 
 export of sugar. Ten years after, Mr. H. died 
 suddenly, and, having no relatives on the island, 
 the Government took possession of his estate and 
 
 ■i 
 
34 
 
 ^'f-ne Papers, 
 
 i\ 
 
 set about discrivAr.., i • 
 
 turned. """'- but no reply ^,3 ,^, 
 
 " it was afterward.; w;. 
 
 ^"ew anything of d,e ^ft'e LS °''' """^ "° "-"^ 
 /: ' °*'^;»k- Thus, all trad oT ,f ° ' °^ ""^' °^ "'« 
 
 '• ' "'^^ -t. Advertisements uf '""' """^ '"« ^oy 
 
 '" 'f-e Canadian „ape" f ''''' "'^^^ '"'"'ed 
 
 ;^fo« success undo ytfe'T'" '■•'-'•'« 
 he veritable son was discovlw i ^^' '^''' '^h^" 
 * ^hute, barristers, o 'hi! "^ ^''^^^- «l.ute 
 "'M'er in charge. ' ^■'>'' »''><> have the 
 
 " The lucK fello,,.v 
 He has ever .s'nce " T' ". '^"'> "■''"■".orn 
 '"dy <n Canada. '" '"« '^'"' 'he kind old 
 
 " f^e is a fine-lootin,, 
 - --"e literary talent"'^:!:''' 'T^' -^ posse,s- 
 
 ^-e already appeared tn Tne 0° '"' ''™<^"«''>"-' 
 "«s of this city. °"^ <"■ t«'o of the week- 
 
 " We understand h^ 1. 
 .^^^ompanied by his atto! '^'' <='*^ '""'norrow 
 " - believed he^wilf ZVoIZ ^T^^' ^^ 
 '';^-«o the vast estat:o7,rSt!''P-i„, 
 
 ^'"''•°™a„tic story was or 
 
 '" '"e Canadian pap^^d ^r^ r'"^^'^ ^"'^■'''^ 
 
 ' ^' ""ght well be ex. 
 
Quip Hawthorn's Revenue, 
 
 35 
 
 anting 
 
 pectcd, c»eated a sensation in the old town of 
 
 H . The people, for a time, forgot all their 
 
 old [jrejudices, and began to speak of Quip in 
 glowing language. The> were delighted to refer 
 to him as their '' fellow townsman.'* for. somehow, 
 his good luck seemed to reflect honor upon the 
 whole < ommunity. Almost everybod) could now 
 remember having, long ago, observed some favor- 
 able trait in his character. An odd citizen, Iiere 
 and there, might be found who declined to believe 
 a word of the stor\ about that Hawthorn boy's 
 good luck, and occasionally the opinion was ex- 
 l)ressed that it would make no difference any way, 
 for, no matter what amount he might fall heir to, 
 he would soon run through the whole of it. But 
 these people were the exception, and their unchar- 
 itable opinions had but little effect upon the gen- 
 eral favor with which Quip and his good luck were 
 regarded. 
 
 PARI 111. 
 
 Several months later, an item announcing the 
 return of " Quip Hawthorn, Esq.," from Jamaica, 
 was included in the telegraphic news from New 
 
 York, and it became known in H that he was 
 
 coming back to the old town to persuade the kind 
 old Mrs. Mahew to return with him to his new 
 home. 
 
Ill- I 
 I; 
 
 W 
 
 36 
 
 Fr/zd Papers. 
 
 IS 
 
 Some of the leading people put their heads to- 
 gether and concluded that something ought to be 
 done. 
 
 Accordingly, as the train stopped at the station, 
 Quip was astonished to hear the band rattling forth 
 some lively air. As he stcp|ieci on 10 the platform 
 he was greeted with a rousing cheer, and after con- 
 siderable hand shakuig and other congratulations 
 he was further astounded by having a deputation 
 from the Town Council present him with an ad- 
 dress of welcome, .\fter which the party proceed- 
 ed up town, in two or three carriages, escorted by 
 the band which played appro|>riate music. 
 
 A dinner had been arranged, in his honor, for 
 that evening, and he said, in the course of his re- 
 marks in reply to the toast of his health, ''this is 
 the proudest moment of my life," and. doubtless 
 he spoke the truth. 
 
 For the next few days he had man\- ( alters, ar.J 
 he received numerous invitations to dinners. 
 
 A sardonic smile stole over his face, as. one by 
 one, he cast them aside and wrote a gracious de- 
 clination to all except one. 
 
 This was from the Buntingtons. 
 
 'I'he card remained m his hand very much longer 
 than there was any net^essity for. It was brief, but 
 
 \\\ 
 
 gal 
 
 m 
 
 ^ 
 
Quip Haivtiwrn'i Rei'ens^e. 
 
 37 
 
 ■>> 
 
 in it he could read volumes. As he continued to 
 gaze upon it. the exjjression of his face went through 
 a variety of clianges, and a glimpse of his whole 
 life seemed to pass before his mental view. 
 
 '• Such is life,'' he said to himself at the conclu- 
 sion of his reverjf.'. and then he wrote out an ac- 
 ceptance of the invitation. 
 
 It was a large party, for the Buntingtons were 
 \ery po])ular in their set. The Arundels, and the 
 Spouchers. and the Smytlies, and the Sunnyfords, 
 were all there, as well as a host of others whom it 
 IS needless to mention. 
 
 (^uip wa> cordially retei\ed. He was arrayed 
 m an elegant e\ening suit of the very latest cut, 
 and. altogether, looked exceedingly well. His 
 slightly reserved manner and his pleasant appear- 
 ance ger-^rally. created a very favorable imj^ression. 
 
 There was nothing ostentatious about him, how- 
 ever. He was. to some extent, the " chiefly ob- 
 ser\-ed,"' and he knew it. but the knowledge in no 
 way incommoded him. nor did it interfere with the 
 calm thoughtfulness of his countenance. 
 
 He shone in the drawing-room, took part in the 
 dances, flirted with the ladies, and was everywhere 
 accorded that deference which is usually paid to a 
 young and handsome millionaire. 
 
 •* I remember that day on the steamer. Mi*. 
 
3^ 
 
 Ki 
 'f' 
 
 , s 
 
 ^^'^^^^ >"^/A.:, 
 
 hawthorn • . • j 
 
 <• } ou forgotten (he ,„ "f '^'" very 
 "i believe r u "'"'«'>' ? ' 
 
 ,''<^ added, ..t° ; ;^'d Qu'P careie^slv ."' "■ 
 '^«'«"i of n ZJ , '"'"^ a much ,„n ^'.''"'' ^''^n 
 
 ^"^"-'•ber thl >/'" ""^^^ Of approt, T""'' 
 
 "7ha '• "'en she 
 
 Mr- Halt ■'' ""■-' '""e thi.n. .„ ^ 
 ^^^»«» thorn,- ^'"'^'"e».ber.so;o„^, 
 
 '••■"er on ,i„ • 
 
 >*t 
 
Quip Flau'tlwrfi's Revenge. 
 
 39 
 
 ^^e coyly 
 'n a waltz, 
 saved that 
 w^as verv 
 
 L^e of ft, 
 nd then 
 Id recoJ- 
 -fvvards, 
 r)o yon 
 
 'eased, 
 en she 
 
 /ong, 
 
 Miss 
 find 
 irit- 
 iiie 
 
 ist 
 
 should 
 known 
 
 How strange it is, Mr. Hawthorn, that you 
 have lived here so long and we not have 
 
 vou befon 
 
 "It is strange," replied (^uip, dryly, and then he 
 watched her face closely as he continued, " but I 
 did not go out much in society.' 
 
 I )uring the evening .Mr. Buntington and others 
 e\i>ressed the hope that .Mr. Hawthorn might be 
 induced to continue to reside among them. To 
 which (^luip replied that '' he was afraid that was 
 hardly possible." 
 
 It was a very i)leasant and agreeable evening, 
 and everybody enjoyed themselves but one. That 
 was Quip. 
 
 H : <\\u not go there for enjoyment ; he went for 
 
 sat'i.V;i:vo , and he had it. 
 
 A week later old Mrs. Mayhew had disposed of 
 :<;r little cottage, in which she had lived so long, 
 and went awav with Quip, whom it is almost need- 
 less to add. she regarded with a motherly affection. 
 
 • 
 
 The day alter their departure the Observer and 
 Dr: atih contained an article entitled " .Mammon 
 Worshipers.'" 
 
 It was a clever salue. It ably hit off hypocrites, 
 sychophants and a variety of other human shams. 
 
 n 
 
 
40 
 
 Prize Papets. 
 
 I 
 
 and eloquently portrayed the mockery of the 
 world's professed friendship. 
 
 It was several days, however, before the people 
 ol H learned that Quip was its author. 
 
 Quip and his mui companion remained in 
 
 New York, where he L^d previously secured a lu- 
 crative position on one of the great weeklies. 
 
 *' Shute and Shute "" was a clever-looking ^<v///^ 
 felloiVy and he had had several years experience in 
 connection with the press of that city. 
 
 He and Quip had been friends for some time. 
 
 Jamaica had no charm for Quip, but, were it not 
 that his conscience pricks him occasionally, he 
 could add his testimony that " Revenge is sweet."' 
 
-^ 
 
 Retvrin^ /row jHifsifir'as. 
 
 4'' 
 
 CHAPTER 1 J J 
 
 
 Paper No. 2. 
 RETIRING FROM lUSlNKSS. 
 
 'J'h<' Evil Of Popularity ./ T : u • S to i r . 
 
 Above the door of a rather snug hui not over 
 ostentatious little shop, centrally simatcd on the 
 principal thoroughfare of one of the numerous lit- 
 tle villages of Western Ontario, hung the following 
 sign : 
 
 "ANrnoNV HoF(;ooi), (iROLKKiKs. iSji .■■ 
 
 Mr. Ho))good was the proprietor of the estab- 
 lishment. .\lthough he had l)een in husine.ss in 
 the same premises for several years, still he could 
 not l)e regarded as much more 'ban a youth, foi- 
 Mr. Hopgood, like many great men. had launt.hed 
 out into the battling world at an early age. The 
 greater portion of his lifetime had be^n sj)t;ni in 
 the village, and. as a consc(|uen< e, evervhody iu 
 the whole townshi]) could claim intimate ac(|uain- 
 tanceship with him. He was a genial, goi»d-na- 
 tured young fellow, very sociable and fond of tun. 
 and was, moreover, something t)f a philosopher. 
 He also had the happy knack of being able to ex- 
 press his ideas in an easy and entertaining sort of 
 way, and it can, therefore, be readily understood 
 that Mr. Hopgood was a general favorite in the 
 
 r« 
 
 ■ (, 
 
4-' /Vv'of Papers. 
 
 omniuniU'. I'lic people liked to deal with Mi 
 
 H 
 
 ()j)g()()( 
 
 I tor, 
 
 no in 
 
 attcr whether his ciistonier^ 
 
 were old or NOiini;. he always had a smile, ana a 
 pleasant word for each ; besides, he had, long since 
 a(<|uir(jd a rei>uiaiioii tor fair and honest dealing 
 in !)iisines>. and there was not a jK-rson in the whole 
 neii<iiliorhood. ^e\( :L|)t. perhai)s. his old rival, op 
 
 ))Osite) that coi 
 
 lid 
 
 sa\- a sinuif word der(;Lcatorv to 
 
 his character. 
 
 in (;onsc(|uen( c ot" all these j^oorl (jiialities the 
 older In-ads in the \illage looked noon .Anthony 
 (as they usiiall}' termed him) as a very j)ronHsing 
 Vijuni: man. There were, however, just three 
 thini^s about Anthony, u[)on which the village peo 
 j)le wiHild like to have had a little more delinite 
 information. These ([uestions were. Inst : where 
 he originally hailed from : second, how mu( h o^ 
 the ■• needful ' he had managed to lav bv, and 
 lastly, why he persisted in remaining single? These 
 were, certainly, very im|)ortant considerations, and 
 several of his more inquisitive neighbors fre(|uently 
 endeavored to sound him on these points. TJut 
 Anthony was cauti(jus, and he evaded their bluntly 
 )>ut ([uestions in the most inn(<cent manner imag 
 
 ina 
 
 bl, 
 
 Not that he was i 
 
 n any way afraid to hav 
 
 light shed U|)on any of the ({uestions, but becaus: 
 while he was willing that his kindly tieighbor 
 shoidd gratit) their curiosit\ and lov(- oi gossip i'. 
 
A\'/i/i//j;^ from Busiiu'ss. 
 
 43 
 
 cT rortuin degree, he was unwilling that they should 
 know too much about him, perhaps more than he 
 knew himself. Consequently, in spite of all of 
 their well-meant efforts to solve these conundrums, 
 the people could arrive at no positive conclusions 
 in regard to them. Even the oldest inhabitant 
 I ould reveal nothing in regard to .Anthony's pedi 
 gree, and the old constable, who was considered 
 tolerable good authority on most legal matters, 
 could give no definite statement as to .Anthony's 
 financial standing. 
 
 Notwithstanding the.se few drawbacks, Anthony 
 co!\tinued to dwell in the hearts of the jieople. and 
 the people continued to take an active interest in 
 him and his affairs. Indeed, his welfare was al 
 most made a thing of their own concern. 
 
 P»ut Anthony grew ambitious. The grocery 
 business, in a small place, is a pleasant enough avo- 
 cation, it is true, but he began to feel that his 
 heart was not in his work ; that he had a .soul 
 worthy of a higher destiny than that of measuring 
 out sciap, sugar nnd other trifles. So he had his 
 head examined by the phrenologist who happened 
 to come around that way, and the result was that 
 >oon after, he went over to Mr. 1 )orson"s, the drug 
 gist — who also did the job-i)nnting for the village 
 -and ordered fifty hirge-si/ed ]iosters which were 
 l(» read as follow > : 
 
44 
 
 H 
 
 Prize /'a/H-rs. 
 
 " REUKfNC FROM KvJSINKSS. 
 
 " Anthony Hopgood desiren to announce to the 
 residentH of this village and surrounding neigh t>or- 
 hood that he has resolved to 
 
 (WVK Ul> lUJfjIN'KSS. 
 
 and will sell out at a great sneririce in order to 
 make a sj)eed\ clearance. 
 " All parties, ett ,, etc." 
 
 When old Mr. Dorson had looked through his 
 si)ectacles long enough to gtt at the gist of the 
 matter, a visible change came over his whole per 
 son. He was simijly amazed. He was just as 
 much astonished as he would have been had the 
 paper which he held in his hand been a call to al- 
 low himself to be nominated for the local legis- 
 lature. As soon as he had re< overed himsel'^ a lit 
 tie he broke out as follows : 
 
 "Why, Anthony, what does this mean?' 
 
 To which Anthony calmly replied : " it means, 
 Mr. Dorson, that 1 am about to abandon the gro 
 eery trade forever. I have, at last, awoke to a true 
 conception of the grand object of m> existence, 
 and 1 must hie me hence without delay, to enter 
 upon my new destiny." 
 
 Now, Mr. Dorson was a kind old soul and his 
 habits were very simple. He was not accustomed 
 
l!-i L . 
 
 Retiring from business. 
 
 45 
 
 to being startled in this manner, so. after a while 
 he said : 
 
 " Anthony, I am afraid you are acting rashly ; 
 tiiis is a very serious step ; you must take time to 
 consider it. You have a nice little business here 
 and you are very comfortable among us, and for 
 my part, I can see no reason in the world why you 
 should give up. I am older than you are, my boy, 
 and 1 advise you- to drop this idea, and don't trifle 
 with Providence by throwing away your chances. 
 Ves, Anthony, ihe more 1 think of it, the more I 
 am convinced that it is my dut\ to refuse to print 
 anv such wild nonsense for vou. 
 
 At this, Mr. Mo|)g(HHl seemed i') grrm a little 
 Impatient and did noi appear to value the old gen- 
 tleman's advice as much as a good \oung man 
 should do. He mildly threatened to go elsewhere 
 for his j)rinting. \vhereui)on Mr. Oorson reconsid 
 ered the matter, and after doubly impressing on 
 Anthony's mind the fact that he had warned him, 
 concluded to do the work, and, after saying good 
 day to Anthony, immediately stepped into the little 
 back room to tell his wife about it. 
 
 In due time the fifty posters were sent over to 
 the grocery. Mr. Hopgood procured the services 
 of the " Tom Sawyer '" of the village, and shortly 
 
46 
 
 />/:<• Paptr. 
 
 after, all Miitahle places around alx^iii were orna- 
 mented with Mr. Hopgood's intention. 
 
 In the course of a day or two the news had 
 spread all over the townshi]). and it may l)e satt; lo 
 .say that nothing, since the news of tlie Fenian in 
 vasion, had ever so "taken hold of the people." as 
 it were. Kveryljody imniediate!) began to wonder. 
 and to surmise, and to guess, and to talk, 'i'he air 
 was full of it. 
 
 The first ])erson that came to see .Vnihony about 
 \\^ officially, was old Dr. Brown. Me liad been 
 having a talk with Mr. Dorson, that morning, and 
 they had come to the unanimous conclusion that 
 this idea of his giving u]) business was the greatest 
 piece of lolly that had ever come under their ob- 
 servation. The good old Doctor stormed, and 
 argued, and advised, until he was almost exhausted. 
 and finally demanded to know ' where he was going 
 and what he was going to do." To which (pies- 
 lions .Anthonv was mum. 
 
 Shortly after the Doctors dei)artnt'e. in came the 
 Rev. Mr. Perkins, who, in a very calm and mild 
 manner, remarked that he was very much surprised, 
 indeed, when he had learned of .\nthony"s inten- 
 tion to retire from business. He had always con- 
 sidered the grocery business to be quite profitable, 
 etc., etc. Not suc<"eeding in his gentle efforts to 
 
 ill 
 
Ndi, 
 
 'I 'I'. 
 
 Ironi I It f si 11 
 
 r.v.N. 
 
 obtain an insight inio Antiioins ruliii\ inicniions. 
 he somehow junijjLd at the conchi^ion ihai Air. 
 Hopgood c'tnteniplated removing to some large 
 eitv. and siraightwav felt tliat it was his diitv, as a 
 minister, to warn him ot" the wickeimess and of the 
 temi)tntions whicii beset yoimg men in all large 
 pln(X'S. His line ol" argumrnt was. tiiat as peace 
 and contentment ought to be the soiimnin hcnum 
 of ))uman ambition. Anthony's inletuion to lemove 
 was entirel) wrong, because it wa> dircclly opposed 
 to both right and reason. 
 
 Anthony listened attcnti\e!y for -omc time. l:ut 
 <ause he was not \evy busy jusi then. and. also, be- 
 <'ause he alwa)S had a goofl dtal of n-spc-ct for the 
 Rev. Mr. IVrkins. 
 
 huring tlu' afternoon, Johnson, the blaiksmilh, 
 went \\\) to see Antiiony al)OUt the matter. He 
 had heard someliiing al)OUt his going to kav-; the 
 v'illage. but he declined to beliexe am .nik 11 ^(uff 
 imiil he heard it from Anth()n\"s own lij^s. .So 
 (he first thing he said, when he got ir.io !he s;(.)rc. 
 M-as — 
 
 " is it true ? " 
 
 " Is wh.at true ? " asked .Vmhony. 
 
 " is it true thai sow are going to KaNe u>. Mr, 
 Hc>}»gcod ? ' 
 
48 
 
 /V/':r' Paper 
 
 'I 
 
 Anthony intV>rmeci him that he believed fate had 
 «o ordained it. l^pon which, Johnson broke out 
 as dlows : 
 
 ''Now, see here. Anthony. I've always been a 
 friend o' yourn, and have done all .1 could to help 
 you along, and we 're all been a dealing with you 
 for a long time, and I dont think its the square 
 thin<< for vou lo • |)i<k up" and * dig t)Ul " this way." 
 
 Anthon) did not s.iy nuu h. berause he felt that 
 his honest old friend. lohnson, meant well. 
 
 Towurds evening, in droi)))ed the dashing little 
 Mrs. Fisiier. the widow, \\hosc merry l)rown eyes 
 were said to be sluiri^ cnougli to .stx" through half 
 a do/en mil) stones. 
 
 During the conversation, the little darling 'augh- 
 ingly mtimated that Mr. Hopgood ( ould not fool 
 her; that she believed he had no intention of giv- 
 ing uj) business at all, Awd that he only said so for 
 an advertising dodge. Her late hiisl.»:ind had been 
 in business, somewhere. 
 
 In \\ few days it became pretty generallv known 
 that Anthony really did intend to retire. It be- 
 <ame tht' chief topic of conversation in all the 
 houses, in the other stc»res. over at the tavern, 
 everywhere. lUit nobody could tind out, by hook 
 or by crook, what Anthony's intentions were in re" 
 
 L 
 
Rth'rt'ng /ro/n /iusi/wss. 
 
 49 
 
 *• « 
 
 ;* 
 
 %'xr<\ to the future, 'f'his was very- preplexing. He 
 nearly lost several intimate friends in consequence 
 of his stubborn silence in that respect. Howevei, 
 in the absence of Liuthenti( intorniatic»n, the folk)w 
 ing rumors were frceb' handid ;ibout. vi/. : 
 
 That he ha<i rich and powerful relatives in 
 Kuroj)e and that ihcy had sent for him to come 
 and fill some big position. Thai his graiidtather 
 wa.^ in the Russian aiuiy. and that he was going 
 ovt.T lo liglu with the Servians. That he was going 
 away to ilic Stales lo marr\ an heiress ; that he 
 was going to edit a iu.'wsi)aper and. lastl), that he 
 had joined the ('hunh and would become a 
 preacher. 
 
 In the meantime, tlu- okl constable busied him 
 self every day. lurnting round, trying to fish up 
 something that would give him a clue. Me went 
 over to stre if Docior brown had noticefl an\ thing 
 strange or remarkable al)OUt .Anthony's actions, of 
 iate. but the Doctor shook Ids head ; then he held 
 a conhdenlia! interview with the proprietor of the 
 tavei'n to see if ,\nihon\ had been much of a fre- 
 tjuenlcr. or if he had taken to drink, but the jolly 
 old landlord regretted thai lu- had seen Anthony 
 so seldom. Then, as a last resort, he <^.aUed upon 
 die ])ost!naster to ascertain if diat functionary had 
 noticed .'".nvthing peculiar oj su.sjnciou'^ al>out An 
 
5« 
 
 'rr.y f\ipii>. 
 
 /',-/- 
 
 thony's corrt.sjiondi'iicc. but l^e postiiK'sttr had 
 notired nothing worth spca'dng ot". The old ( on 
 bta))lo began to grow wrath}- Things (•ontinuc;<i 
 in this unsettled state tor sexeral days, and the 
 peoi)le could get no satistartion oiu of Anthony. 
 As might be ex|)eeted. (lie runi(u-s kcpi eonstantlx 
 increasing in number, and i1k-\ ii;}d to br varied 
 so as to be in accord v.ith the indign.it idii which 
 was spreading. The Inllnwin;.' arc a (cw sjk:* im -ns 
 of what was being whispered r.round. That he had 
 become a gambler and had lost e\er\ ct ni he wa- 
 worth at cards: that he was going to jom a g-'in^, 
 <>/" robbers, then supj^oscd t<i be i-iowling .il.oiu ijic 
 counir\ : that lis was a <(»unii. ircii(_i\ a hia'se '.hief. 
 and. rmalh. that he had < "nc.H icd a i>laii ol rob 
 bing the |>(;sioHi( c. Still, Aniiiom kcj't siKi:!. 
 and. strange to s;i\-. looked all the uioie hai)|)\ 
 each day, which wjm \er\ anno\ing lo tiu- jx.-ople. 
 
 Jt is a long lant- that h.is no turning. ho,\e\ei. 
 and that is what the old constable thought a^ he 
 walked in. one eveninj^, after hiving almost .ibm- 
 diDned all hopes of ever lindiiiLi out .iiuti)ii;;_. \j- 
 Ihough there was an air of profound n)el,uu:hol\ 
 about hi.'n. sti'l he <ould not ( onceaj the trium|»h 
 which glittered in hi^ little grcv eves a^ he tllll•^ 
 addressed .\nthony : 
 
 " "^Ir. Hopgood. I ha\e a \erv unpleasant duiv 
 
 '^C 
 
A'chri/ii^ //>','// Bi/sii/t'ys. 3 i 
 
 to perform. 1 had always regarded vou as a?i up 
 liiihi yoving iiiaii. \'oii have nobody to l)lanit' but 
 yourseh'. i have to intonu sou that I am sent 
 here to seize all voiir goods an<l chattels. Here 
 Is the distress wi^vrani which was got out against 
 you 1»\ Mr. Sldnnci. \()ur landlord. lie has be 
 «:onu- tlis'^alisricd and uncasN at ihe uav ' .)ii are 
 rr.rrv ing > 'ii." 
 
 It »<>meho\\ (X currv-'d 10 Anlhonx. jiisi then. lis.Ht 
 there was a ])ossibililv oi < arrvmg a joke t«,«o tar. 
 si>. after iiiui h. fruitless argument, he poiiteh 
 pointed to the door, bill the old <'oristable wasi)ig. 
 and declined to ino\e. 
 
 Mr. ilopgood had to go up at..! inter\ieu oh: 
 Skinner, the landloid. as follows.: 
 
 .\nihonv. •• \\h;it di(j \ou put the bailiff in m\ 
 place for ? " 
 
 ( )ld .Skinner. " The waswardncss of MUiih. Mr. 
 HopgO(.»d. has always beeti a sonic j of much tin 
 easiness to me. In all my e.xperiei.ce, I have found 
 that voting men, as a rule, * annot l)e depended 
 upon, a.nd your own ( ase j./roves the rule. \'on 
 are now established in a business which is growing 
 from year to year, and you have a bright prospect 
 before vou. lUil no. some torn, foolery or other 
 catches vou. atui nou must give Uj) vour bnsine^^ 
 
 !l 
 
Prize Paper J,. 
 
 and throw away your chances. You are already 
 on the road to the poor house !" 
 
 Anthony. *' I have always paid you the rent 
 when it was due. I do not owe you one cent of 
 rent. Upon what ground, then, do you seize ? * 
 
 ( )ld Skinner. " Fool, your lease has some 
 months to run yet. 1 seize tor the rent that will 
 becoMU- due. 
 
 Anthony. Hul your rent will be paid as it be 
 » omes due just as it always has been." 
 
 Old Skinner. " When you have arrived at my 
 vears vou will havf learned tlie worth lessness o^ 
 promises." 
 
 -Xnthony. " W'ji 11 1 am as old as you are I 
 hope I will have better sense. The seizure whirh 
 you have made is entirely illegal and uncalled for. 
 You have allowed your ovaricioustiess 10 get the 
 better Oi vour judgment. Believe me, sir, you 
 shall be made to pay denrly for the gross inju.stic:e 
 done me. Some of the wealth which you have 
 wrung from the helpless ;uid iiKwperienced shall, 
 in turn, be wrung from sou as a ^\\ 'oinpensation 
 for the injury which von li;ue done me this day." 
 
 I'hcn .Anthony went oser lo ihe counts town and 
 plat ed the matter in the hands of able lawyers, and 
 the result w;is. tlut. in a tew davs. old Skinner 
 
 1 
 
Ritiriti^ ft out Husiiwss. 
 
 53 
 
 t 
 
 hoppeti around like a whipped cur. He < aiue down 
 and invited the old constable to come away ah he 
 had dro))ped tin- seizure and desired to withdraw 
 all further i^roceedings. ( )]d Skinnei was \er\ 
 wealthy. l>ut nobody in the wnoit- \illa.uc liked 
 hin) : ho when the old constable went round and 
 lold )iow he had been made a fool of. eNervbodv 
 ai lually congratulated Anthi "v on iiis vie lorv. 
 
 Ijuring all this linie, Anth<jnv"s sunk was tK-inj; 
 reduced to ii fnie j)oint, so to speak, and thingN 
 began to look as though the place would not know 
 him muc^h longer. Then the people began t(> hunt 
 up claims against him. and, as the majority pre- 
 sented were purely imaginary, h wa.-^ kept <|uite 
 busy in hunting up old receipts toi oil" which had 
 been settled months, and even years, b fori . Then, 
 much to the satisfaction of everybodv, he was 
 threatened to be sued for breach of promise, by 
 the lather of the girl he once took to singing x hfK)l 
 Hut, terrified at th.' fate which befell old Skinm 
 this would-be plaintiff concluded not t«> i»ress the 
 case at present. And, as a grand fmale. a crown 
 ing clitna.x to his persecutions, old Kiggins. th« 
 tailor, had .Anthony actually arrested on a capias. 
 Anthony had always been in the ha'oit of buymg 
 his clothes there, and old Figgins had often boasted 
 that Mr. Hoj)g(.)od was one of his best paying cus- 
 tomers, lint the new suit, whj<:h he had got a few 
 
 il 
 
54 
 
 rriu- l\ipej. 
 
 .lays hotorc. was still unsettled for. and. as the i>co- 
 ple could now believe Anthonv caj^alile ot doing 
 anything. sr)mel)()dy had advised old f-'iggins to 
 look sharp, or he would he the loser. The bill 
 was e.isily settled, however, and Anthony was again 
 Tree lo stand in the door ot his shop and smile ;ind 
 look happv. 
 
 Ihis s«) \c\c(! llu in.'in who kept the other gro 
 I ery, that he wa> obliged to come over and men 
 tion how that the people had intended to jjresent 
 .\nthony with a testimonial on the eve of hi.s de- 
 par'ire. but as he jiersi^ted in being so stubborn, 
 .mil disagreeable, it was now doubted if enough 
 monev fould be (ollci ted lo purrha>e a> inurh as 
 a tin whistle. 
 
 hi thic lime Anihon\- gol \\'\> estate wound up, 
 .ind. as he actually appeared to ha\L- some money, 
 and was not likeK to ask am favors of anvbody, 
 many of hi>, old trier.ds gaihcrtd about hun and 
 wished him i iod --pce^l .t> the stage More tiimaw.iy 
 
/ 
 
 V^• t 'hii!np!'-ii!i 
 
 Valley 
 
 55 
 
 r // / r'l' /'. /< 1 1 
 
 Al'K 
 
 N 
 
 1 ». 
 
 HI' « II.WII'I \IN \ \1 I K\ 
 
 I>Kn( Kl I'l l\ (• AMI HIS 
 
 roKic \l 
 
 \ SIMXIIU IKIl' 
 
 The regio!^ known as the " ( 'h;in»plain N'ailcy *' 
 licN hetwt'cn llie Stales of \ou \'ork and \d inoiU, 
 and extends alx/Ut a hundred and i'lttx miles south 
 unnis tioin r\)v river Rii hcHeu. in ( "anatla. Tliis 
 valk;\. ()\ which iIk- wf-^lern people heai" so httio 
 m liiesv.' da\s. is. withoiu doul't. a phice ot lh<.' 
 deepest iiUeri.>i lo e\er\ ( 'anaihan. The un|)aral 
 Ic'Icd wealth ol" its historical associations and all ihc 
 ■>lories luani about the nuiLinilicenc e of its scenery, 
 long a^o nnhued u> with a desire to be anionu its 
 old hills and ga/e upon tlu- >< cn«.>. where, in da\s 
 Ljone 1>\. was ena<lcd -><» niu< h k)( the l»loo(iy 
 drama \\hi;:ii won and sa\ed our counir\. Anil ou; 
 of which ^rew the worlds vouni;est nation. ( anada. 
 
 This romantic roL;ion \va> dixosercd in 1.609, 
 l>\ the ( elehn'tcd I'rench explorer, ("lunnplain, 
 Irom whom it dt,'ri\es il> name. ()\er three huii- 
 drcd \ears ago its lorn; line ol water < omminiicj 
 lion was tlK' lasoriie route lor armci hand^ with 
 till u' tleels ol linht and. swi!\ c.inoc->. And ;n the 
 
f! 
 
 56 
 
 Prizt Paptn. 
 
 I » 
 
 early Kreiich and Imlian wars, it was the chief 
 highway between New France and tar into the in 
 terior of the Iroquois territory. The valley in 
 eludes the waters of Lake Champlain and lake 
 (ieorge. The Indian name of the former was 
 '* O-ni-a do-rc (xu-a rau-te,'' which means, " I.ake- 
 gaie of the country,' and Lake (ieorge was known 
 as •' An-di-a-to-roc te. ' or *' l*jid of the Lake \'al- 
 ley. In the intercolonial contest, which began 
 about 1730, this valley was the theatre of that long 
 and bloody struggle between the Knglish and the 
 French, with their Indian allies. The great ( am- 
 paign of 1760. under (leneral Anihersi. resulted in 
 a grand trium|>h ; and the whole of the celebrated 
 region then passed from the Frem h into the hands 
 of the Knglish, a\\\\, soon after. French rule in 
 Canada closed forever. h'ifteen years later, the 
 Americ:an Kevolutionarv war. after nun h hard 
 lighting, secured this lerritorx as a part of the 
 thirteen I'nited States, in 1775. 
 
 The long, pent up desire to visit this t'anious val- 
 ley, culminated a few summers ago, and, on a love- 
 ly morning in .August, three Hamilton gentlemen, 
 (Mr. K , Mr. 15 . Mr. McL ) and myself, left 
 Montreal at early hour, on the (irand Trunk Rail- 
 way. The train shot out (jf the great V'i(>toria 
 Bridge, and. in a few hours, we had. unconscious- 
 ly, crossed ihe boundary line which separates 
 
 I 
 
T/u- Clhiinphiin Valley 
 
 ^/ 
 
 C'anada from ihc United Stales, and were landed 
 on the shore of Lake Chanii)lain, at Rouse's Point. 
 The steamer Adirondac, gaily decorated with Ma^s, 
 was awaiting the arrival of this train, and as there- 
 were a large niunher of passengers, nearly all of 
 whom left the cars for the boat, the hauuaue- 
 smashers were, of course. l)us\ for some lime. 
 This ga\e our ])arly an opportunits, while snilhiig 
 the fresh bree/e off the lake, to hxjk about us. 
 Not far froui this Point are the famous old fortif;- 
 <ations of Isle Au\ \(ji\, located at the junction 
 of the lake with the Richelieu River. CouunaruL 
 Tng the entrance to Lake ("hamplain. this fort was. 
 in early times, a most important military point. 
 .So important was ii in the eyes ot our revered an- 
 cestors, thai it was a bone of contenti-)n tor over a 
 hundred years, during which time it changed hands 
 fre(|uently. Without noticing what may ha\e been 
 done by the Imlians. it may be stated the original 
 fortilications were luiill by the freuch ; but the 
 I'aiglish, h;.\ing taken a fancy for the i)lace. ( ap 
 tm-ed it in 1760. The Americans, however, ((in- 
 cluded that it might be of some use to them, and 
 accordingly, in 1775, their desire to ])ossess it was 
 gratified, it was from this jioint that they after- 
 wards issued the tamous ])r(3clamation, tenderly in- 
 viting the Canadians to ()|)en their eyes, and join 
 in with them for inde|)endence. An invitation 
 
 D 
 
 !| 
 
s^ 
 
 PrirA' /*tij>crs. 
 
 * ^ 
 
 which was not accepted, hy-the-hy. This old spot 
 also figured consjjicuously in the war of i8i2-i!!j.. 
 
 At 9 a. m. all wa.> in readiness and the Adiron 
 da< . < uttinii; loose tVotii the wharf, steamed ofT down 
 ihc Lake. Manx ot' the |)assengers, like ourselves^ 
 had left Montreal long before breakfast time, anci 
 a tew lu)nrs ride in the morning air had whetted 
 the api'elite to an alarming degree. Wc gently in- 
 sinuated that fact to the worthy officials of the 
 boat, but 'twas no use : must wait half an hour 
 In this unsatistactorv ( ondilion we began the inter 
 esting ojieration of becoming acciuainted with our 
 fellow passengers. With much agreeable surprise, 
 (m both sides, we found many people with wh(jm 
 we had become a<H|uainted on oiu" trip down the 
 St. i-awreuce. And more pleasing still was the 
 discover\ that manvof us would continue to travel 
 together for the next few days. 'I'here were nice 
 old ladies witli their beautiful and interesting 
 daughters ; fine old and middle aged gentlemen, 
 and newly married couples in abundance. But 
 what ai)peaiv(l the most remarkable to us was the 
 fact that the entire party was almost e\(-lusi\ely 
 American ; we four were, |)erhaps. the only ('ana 
 dians, or Britishers, on board. N ,'\ei'theless. it 
 was a most agreeable company, and included re- 
 j>resentatives trom nearly all the States in tlic 
 I'nion. 'I'he cares and worry of business had been 
 
 f 
 
The Chainplain Valley. 
 
 59 
 
 hot 
 W 
 
 hd 
 
 -d 
 
 left beliind. and all unnecessary restraints being 
 cast aside, e\ erybody seemed bent on making the 
 most of a pleasant time. W'e were only mortal, 
 however, and felt justified in manifesting consider- 
 able impatience while waiting for the gong to in- 
 vite us in to breakfast. The dining-room doors 
 were at length thrown open, and the eager crowd 
 rushed in upon the smiling tables in a manner 
 which reminded one of a parcel of school children 
 at a |)ic-nic. Soon after, as might be expected, 
 e\ erybody was in the best of humor ; and while 
 the ladies were promenading or sitting about, 
 laughing and chatting, the smoke of a hundred 
 cigars was gently wafted from the deck, while the 
 music of an excellent Italian band floated in the 
 air and made the scene complete. 
 
 The scenery along this lake is beautiful in the 
 Lxireme. So beautiful, that an ordinary pen could 
 never do it anything like justice. Indeed, it would 
 be difficult for any one to exaggerate in a descrip 
 tion of it. The lake is narrow, and the shore, on 
 either side, is plainly visible to the naked eye. 
 On the New \'oi'k side is a continual succession 
 of perpendicular cliffs and lovely little valleys, 
 nestling closely at the base of the great Adirondac 
 Mountains, which are diml\ seen in the distance. 
 Tile Vermont side is indented by beautiful little 
 bays, \eiled in shrubbery, and the loft\ peaks of 
 
 : I 
 
6c 
 
 Prize I'aptr.s. 
 
 the Circcn Mountains rise boldly in ihc hack- 
 ground. These great mountains, on either side, 
 are miles and miles away, and at times their out- 
 lines can be but dimly traced. Then again their 
 huge tops assume more delinite shajK', and rise, 
 like great shadows, against the a/ure sky. Some- 
 times, the moving clouds, illumined b\ the sun, 
 evolve themselves ir;to fantastic shapes, and hang 
 like veils as it were, to screen from the \ulgar ga/e 
 the summit ^)\ some distant mountain. And thus 
 as the boat sails along, this grand i>anorai ia 
 changes before the eye. as would the views in some 
 immen.se kaleidosco])e. This lake is a favorite re- 
 sort for s]K)rtsmen. and along the shoi'e. in some 
 wild and secluded nook, can be seen occasionally 
 the tent of some cam[)ing i)arty. IJetween the 
 mountains are fertile valleys, and the white houses 
 of the farmers have a snug ap])eara nee in the 
 orchards which surround them. 
 
 About the deck of the boat are little groups of 
 passengers, many of whom are well supjjlied with 
 a variety of light reading matter. Again and again 
 have they tried to concentrate their mind on the 
 pages of their favorite author, but all in vain : ever 
 and anon the eyes will wander to watch the sun 
 and mist jilay antics with the mountains. In <jther 
 parts of the boat conversation runs lixely. and the 
 harpers, with their instruments, are never idle. 
 
Tlw Cham plain Valley. 
 
 6 
 
 )i 
 
 r 
 II- 
 
 |ir 
 
 ! 
 
 ln(rcdil)lL' though it may seem, in the midst ol" all 
 this ideal beauty, a big chair here and there con 
 tains a passenger tast asleep. But let us hope that 
 in their dreams they are 
 more lovely than is this 
 
 beholding scenes 
 which now 
 
 >tiU 
 
 rrounds 
 
 th 
 
 em. 
 
 i'ouching at llurlington, N'ermont, (latterly 
 made famous b) the Hau^keye), the .Adirondac 
 picked up a large number of ladies and gen- 
 tleme!i who were returning from favorite resorts 
 awa\ up among the White Mountains. Below 
 Burlington the lake narrows, and in a scenic j)oint 
 of view very much resembles the noble old St. 
 Lawrence. N'onder prominence, which is now 
 cosered with wild grass, was once known as Point 
 a la Chevalier. lJ])on this i'oint stood the old 
 I'rench fort .St. kre(leri( k. It was here that (Gen- 
 eral .\mhersl put the l''rench, under Bourlemagne, 
 to disastrous (light ; and here, too. the daring 
 C'a])tain Rodgers, the ranger, with but fitt\' men, 
 distinguished himself by actually ca|)turing all the 
 supply schooners of the enemy. I'he ruins that 
 are now seen cropping up here and there are all 
 that is left of the Knglish fort Crown Point, which 
 was built by Amherst after Fort St. Frederick had 
 been destroyed. i'his Point ac(juired much prom- 
 inence in the struggles of long ago, but its import- 
 ance as a militarv post ended with the war of i 775, 
 
-vr 
 
 62 
 
 Prkc Papers. 
 
 since which time it has disappeared from the arena 
 of usefulness, just as it is now gradually fading 
 from our view. 'I'he trijj down this beautiful lake 
 on that lovely summer day was extremely enj<)\a- 
 ble. and, among us four, a glance back to that 
 happy occasion calls up a train of the most pleas- 
 ant recollections. 
 
 About four oclock in tlie afternoon we arri\ed 
 at 1'icondiroga. Glorious old Ticondiroga. what 
 memories you awaken ! 'I'hese little lieaps of 
 crumbling stone are all that are left of tiie once 
 powerful fort which bore your name, but how elo- 
 tjuently they sj)eak of the great and desperate 
 events which were enacted heie. and how earnestly 
 they recall the names of the heroes of the inter; 
 colonial and the revolutionary wars. This is the 
 scene of many victories and reverses. In 1758, 
 the great Montcalm van( pushed the Ijigiish under 
 Cieneral Abercrombie : but, soon after, tliat defeat 
 was terribly avenged by (rcneral Amherst, who 
 drove the French out and remained in posse.ssion 
 of the fort. Here, too, in 1775, the American in- 
 vading army was defeated and driven back with 
 great loss ; and, later on in the same year, that vic- 
 tory was counterbalanced by the American ( ien- 
 erals Montgomery and Schuyler, who surprised the 
 garrison and captured the few Britishers who had 
 been left to defend it. Famous Ticondiroua ! 
 
Thr Chivuphuii Valhy- 
 
 () 
 
 I 
 
 1, left of vou now but your uamc. 
 
 and, i"-'g"'fi'"",™\l.s .omncnt has « hts- 
 natno will Uve as long _ .^ '^ „^^ „.,, 
 
 ,.ave over youv die s ^^^ ^^^ ,^,^ 
 
 ,nerr,ngU,iest,f> „„„eedca Lv ..vcland 
 
 route to l.al<e ^--"'=-- \. , passengers i-rc- 
 distant. ■^'-^%7:!;;;;,lgn down to White. 
 „,,ea this route to ..^^^ ^,^^^^ ^^^^,^^, ,,,„, 
 
 optional. A do/. ^^^^.^.^^ ,^„ ^j,, ,„ii 
 
 horse stage coa.h.s were ^^ ^, ,,,„„. cl 
 
 and in a few ntmutes. 1» tit ad ^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^^ 
 drivers, the whole lartv was s US. ^^^^^^^,_^^^l^^ 
 side ami on top of the. -h-^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^__^^^^^ 
 
 word to .nove was ^';-"; " ;. ^^.^,, , i,„ of :. l>is 
 ,oroftheline(wno.l.vth. . ■ ,,,,y\,^ 
 
 ''--"> '''r'" nrl'to his patrons. Mount- 
 v-'-'-l''^''^^^''.':;-,.:,. without nuHh.cromony. 
 i^gthetoprado.. ... ^^^^^^^.^^^^^ ^^^ ,„„„,,.. 
 
 ho I'Oi^an u, ^■M""'-\^^,,.„.,„i,oUI the runts 
 .Ladies and ^cttkMucn. so. it^ here that, in days 
 
 gone by. a lew .\m - 1 . ,^,.^,^^ ,,„„,, 
 
 tire r.ritisb artuy and all ^ ,^^^,^^^^ ,.„, 
 
 ^hichwere.Llterwara^iotwatd.a 
 
(h 
 
 I 
 
 n :•( 
 
 /W/, 
 
 'l'> .s. 
 
 vicion sc( ured lo iIil- (ks« Ln(lanl.-> ot the fathers 
 • )t diir cdi.ntn- ]»cr])etual lihcity a liheit)- tluit will 
 last until the great Arcliangel's niight\ triim|> 
 
 >h:)ll 1 
 
 ia\e sou 
 
 nded 
 
 uie linal blast, awakenuii: al 
 
 the nations ot' the earth, on the L;reat day of reck- 
 oning. Hurrah, for the ureat kepublic ! I >rive 
 
 on N'oui" horse.->. 
 
 his outburst of palri(jtisni wa- 
 
 re< ei\ i.(l with < hver^ and tl 
 
 ie waving ol 
 
 daint' 
 
 ht 
 
 lie liandixeK hiets. but the ( 'anadiau blood in the 
 wins ot' tour <■)!' us was up at the .uro^s injustice 
 done io our worthy an( estor>. and we were about 
 to. also, protest a^ain-^; ilie orators ciaiiuing tor 
 the Kepubli* a uionopoK of the world's liberi), 
 but tile i^rexession nio\e(] oiV jusi then at a rattling 
 pace, and whatever international jealousy had been 
 awakened soon alter >>eenied lorLiotten m the uen 
 era! nierrimcpi. 
 
 ihe load isa\ir\ wild one; down _;reat hoi 
 lows. u|» >-teep liilb. aiid along Irightlul prec ipii e>, 
 which startled lit;le s< Beams tVoiu the ladies. 
 .\bout hall"\va\ osc a ludt was made, and thi^ 
 time the c!e\ei' ( (MkUh lor poin^. d out a natural 
 < iiriositx m th .' shape ot a iwin tree, or ratlui- two 
 Uxx-s an oa!: and an ehu growing together iVom 
 one and the same stump. I'here was no<li'ubt 
 about it. for niari\ of" us exanii/ieil it personalis, 
 and it ( erlainl\ was a \ery singular liisiis luitiiin . 
 The t tinning rase al ( ompleti-d hi- spee< h. from an 
 
 CI 
 
 1 
 
Tilt Chain plain VaUvy 
 
 f'S 
 
 >! 
 
 .•levatcd |)()sition on the fence, with a toiu hing re 
 
 mark whirli he knew would l)e endorsed hv tlie 
 >e\cral l)ridal jKirties in the coaches. \i/. : 
 a ueniiine freak of nature, and it should 
 
 This i^ 
 
 teach 
 
 us 
 
 thai what tiod has united let no man put asunder. 
 <^hetrs. ) i )rive on your horses.'" Altoiiether 
 this httle overland trip was \ ery romantic . 
 
 in a tew minutes more we were at the eil^c of 
 Lake ( ieorLje. in tlu midst of a iireat wilderness. 
 Without mu( h dehiy all were on hoard of a neat 
 little steamhoai. upon the side ()f 'vhich was painted 
 Minnehaha. Mow lK;uaifull\ suiiiiestive is that 
 prett\ !ianK- '. Ikit. .imon,!.; all these surroundings 
 uf nature unadorned '>v art. how drlighifull* aj'pro 
 pri.itc ' li reminds us of the long, long ago, when, 
 if the legends (an be believed, this \ery jilace was 
 the happ\ hunting ground of the n(/!>le re<l man, 
 l«ing hefc»ri. he bee onu <()ntaminate(' by the lire- 
 water of the- ]>:de-i";ices, Longfellow has maiJe the 
 name immt)rtal : 
 
 I .aui^liiiii; \\ i\W\. 
 
 Miiiiu- li;i ha 
 
 I l.iniUciiu-; (ifaM iIr- \\(iiih-ii 
 
 bi ila- Inivl <>l ' 1k' I >acotah». 
 
 ill '.Iw.- lain I < if n;iiiib«»nK' wi'Htoii. 
 
 .Minnc ha ha. or Laughing Water, was tlie n;'.nie 
 nf th« \oiing wife of liinvatha. and. 
 
 I'K'in 111- uiL^waiii Ito 'Icparlcii. 
 I.ratliiii; •• iiii hint Laughing; \\ai>r : 
 11:11.'! iii-liaii'I ilu'\ Win; t'nji'tlui 
 
r 
 
 06 rriu l\ipi'rs. 
 
 riiiuugli llic wontlland ;iP(l llic mca<l<>\\ : 
 Lcfl the old man ^inmling It^iicly 
 Ai the (loDrway of lii> \\ igwani. 
 Heard iho fali-^ of .Mlni)(.--ha-lia 
 ("ailing to tliciii iVom liu' di^lanee. 
 ( rving li> lIu'Hi fiom atar-oll : 
 •• |-"a'iv-{luv-\vfli. (> Miiir.c- ha-ha :"' 
 
 This region nbouiids wiiii romantic Indian 
 'c'gcnd^, whicli liaw 1)clmi made familiar by the 
 Xnit-rican writer. Mr. J I'mninioro ( 'ooijcr. 
 
 ■|"hc little steamer pushed off t'nmi the nidc 
 
 wharl. a 
 
 nd 
 
 we Were once more a 
 
 t](Kll. 
 
 ake 
 
 (leoruo. thoULtli a small body of water, is ot' -real 
 depth in some places, and is etuirely unknown in 
 commerce. It recei\ed it> ])rt'sent name more 
 than a i eninr\ a_uo from Sir William b'imson. in 
 honor oi" 1 1 In .Majesty the King. It is also known 
 in poetr\- a> Lake llorit on. 'j'lir water of llii^ lake 
 is so clear and transparent liiai. in mans jiart>. ob 
 
 jeits can be (Ustnic tl\ seen at the boitom. 
 
 ■\'\v. 
 
 peculiarity has sometimes « aused it to be spoke 
 ot' as the Silver Lake. The seeiierx ot" I ,ake ( ieorgc 
 is considered to be iinri\alled on th<; northern pat 
 
 n 
 
 oi" this continent in. it> 'f.mdeui 
 
 ^Ubll 
 
 mitv 
 
 So ( eh.'braied are its shores thai there is not an a't 
 gallery of"an\- conse<iuen<e in tlie I'niled Staksor 
 Canada thai does noi ( ontain wne oi more paint- 
 ings ol' iews on this Lake. rriib.iis >< ener\ is 
 ma'jnitlceni. 
 
 1 
 
The Clinnipliiiii Wilhy. 
 
 ] 
 
 I 
 
 Otcasiunally, huge barren roclcs rise perpen- 
 dicularly from the water edge lo an immense 
 height, and their gri/zly fronts seem to frown at u> 
 human specks, thousands of teet below. Then 
 auain. verdure-c lad hills sIoik gradualiv back f<»r 
 miles, and their rugged to|)s fre<iuently tower abo\c 
 the ( louds. liuge trees, on the sides of ihe>c 
 great mountains. ap])ear from the de«k of the 
 steamer no bigger than the small shrub> \\hi(h 
 ornament a lawn. The lake winds around among 
 these mountains, and the toinist ga/es upon their 
 lofty sunnnits from man\ different points of \ lew. 
 At limes, the boat passes so (lose that erne's hand 
 could almost touch the sides ot the immense per- 
 pendicular ])iles of rock, wliich Iia\e tor ages past 
 <om])letely shut (nit the sun from the water. e\«epi 
 at mid-day. While a little lurtlur on the painful- 
 ness of this (ontrat ted \ iew is lost in the inunense 
 ex])ans • of space which unfolds itself between the 
 sloping hill on either side. And thus, the view 
 seldom extending far beyond the boat. the>.e granii 
 S( enes come on us unexpectedly, and their im 
 mensity. for the moment, holds the mind >us- 
 pended in awe. It is one great \ ale of solitude: 
 the awful silence which jirevails is broken only b) 
 the roar of thunder and the furious storm> of win 
 ter. How insignificant one feels, and with what 
 humility do we learn to ga/.e up at those giaiu hills 
 
 % 
 
 it 
 1 
 
6S 
 
 Priu- Papers. 
 
 - those ininicnsc, uncliaiigcablc monarch^, wliich, 
 silentl) but awfully, portra) the Ahiiight) pdwer in 
 Nature. 
 
 .\> tlu- 1k)Ui> wore on. the suu, hiniselt" hicUien 
 tVoni our view, still gilded the mountains, and, 
 
 we watched the shadows as 
 
 >> > 
 
 gliding (juietly alonj 
 
 they crt'ltt stealthily up the sides of the ioft\ hill 
 and when darkness had almost set in upon the 
 water the tops of these old mountains were still 
 » ontestinu with '^he movinu ( louds for the last kiss 
 of the departing sunlight. As if conscious that a 
 
 niui 
 
 dred 
 
 pairs of upturned eyes 
 
 had 
 
 earne 
 
 stly 
 
 watched the contlic i. the delcaled clouds, dashing 
 iheuiselves auainst theu" successful ania^onist-^. dis 
 
 ■hiK 
 
 appeared m Iragnients Ironi thr arena, whue llie 
 sunnnits ot the \ii torious |»eaks. far above, were 
 de( ked in a wreath of uolden hue. iJlorviny: in 
 their niumph. from their ver\ utmost pumaclcs the 
 old hills seemed to smile, and baile u^ adieu with 
 the last ray uf the sun. 
 
 Ill tliough I had l)e<(»nie that e\enin,u. with tlie 
 aid of my ( ompaniori s wrappers, and in tlu- midst 
 y't'i a circle of bright and hapj)\ lac es. I la\ upon 
 the dec k of tl.e steamer and witnessed a >< ene the 
 like of \vhi<-h I hail ne\er dreamecl of, and. U|) to 
 that time. belie\ed only existed in the imagination 
 of the i>oet. Hard though it is t«> describe the 
 
 % 
 
 til 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
1 
 
 I 
 
 Tlw Chainplain I'allty. in) 
 
 srcncrv ol" this lake so as to cdtucv an adct|uaic 
 *:()iKciJtion of its _ij;ran(teiir. aiul the >ul)liniitv ot' 
 
 its siirroiiiKiings, it is e(| 
 
 uallv ditticiilt to taitlit'ullv 
 
 portray the Naried clTcct whicli it has upon the 
 mind of the hehohler. Tlie fontrasls are so great : 
 the h'^ht and shade >o strongly marked, and then 
 again so softly blending, that the mind is lit'teil 
 from sta^e to staire. and new feelings are constantlv 
 tailed to the iVont. Sparkling wit. flashing among 
 the compan), makes the immediate air ring with 
 merriment, l)iit the winding course of the boat 
 so suddenly presents a new scene, which, bursting 
 upon the ga/e so une\|ie< tedly. < omplelelx arrests 
 the attention and. for an instant, holds the mind 
 spell bound. ihe huge, barren mountains whit h 
 here and there lift their (ragged peaks against the 
 sky, present a desolate and hopeless |»icture. the 
 awfulness of whi( h almost makes the heart >ick. 
 
 'Iln 
 
 d wiili 
 
 len again, nnmense siopmg lulls. (()\<.re(i with 
 ijeauliful green foliage, rise graccfullx before the 
 eye. and till the mifid with the most delightful sen- 
 sations. And. m ilu subdued aspec i. which dis- 
 tant e lends theiu, these j;Teal sN)j)es resemble par- 
 id sical paths, which might lead to heaven. (On 
 tc . ^lation never ctases. in the midst of all this 
 immenb:*)', how pleasing to the eye are the niuner 
 ous little islands whit h rise tmt ol the lake, antl 
 impeile the boat in her diret tl\ t>nwartl t t)urse. 
 
70 Pri.e Papers. 
 
 About eight p. ni., the end of I-ake George was 
 reached, and. bidding farewell to the '' Minne- 
 ha-ha.' with the saddening reflection that this 
 j)leasant company could never, never again as- 
 semble together on a similar occasion, all disenv 
 barked at the very identical spot where, a hundred 
 and tift\ \ears before, stood the strong walls of 
 
 F')rt William Henry. Walking uj) the slight ele- 
 vation, how the mind would wander back to those 
 earlier times. It was here, in 1755. that (ieneral 
 Johnson (Sir \\ illiam) won his knighthood by de- 
 feating and taking j)risoner the French general, 
 Dieskau. Here, later on. the gallant Col. Monro, 
 ;)fter extraordinary heroism, was defeated by the 
 yjreiJt Montcalm, who. with that magnanimity char- 
 a( teristi( of greatness, permilterl the van(|uished 
 i(» march oui with all the honors of war, 
 Montcalm afterwards destroyed the fort. It was 
 aUu at this luUlie and U])on this \er\ ground, 
 th;u the bla<'kest deed of the whole war was com 
 milled by the Indian allien of the Trench, who, 
 at'ier .scalj)ing thirty of their bra\e ICnglish i)rison 
 ers. pitched their mangled bodies into an adjoijung 
 pool, which is known to this da\ as the " lllood) 
 I'ond." Near the ruins ol Kort Wiiliam llenr), the 
 Miccessful Amherst afterwards ere«ted i'ort ( ieorge. 
 
 How the scene has (hanged! Instead of the 
 rude walls and bulwarks of a strong tort. in\ested 
 
 -v-..jrTr 
 
-«ia 
 
 The Chanipiain ValUy. 
 
 7i 
 
 has 
 jne- 
 
 mis 
 
 as- 
 
 in- 
 
 led 
 
 of 
 
 \\ ith all the engines of war, stands a handsome slruc 
 lure, which was l)uilt as a summer resort, and, 
 to-night, within its spacious halls, are upwards ot'a 
 thousand representatives of the wealth and refine- 
 ment of the Eastern States. And, as they lightly 
 trip over its gravelled walks and well kept sod, we 
 I annot refrain from wondering if these fair ladies 
 are aware that e\ery inch of the ground o\er 
 which the\ tread has been stained with human 
 blood. This mammoth building, though of wooti, 
 is a palace of luxury; and here, at the edge of the 
 sleei)ing lake, among the vast hills, oer which the 
 moon sheds her sihery light, the gay throng, 
 isolated from the busy world and worshiping at 
 the shrine of |)leaNurc. is a scene that could be 
 easily mistaken for a midsummer night's dream of 
 a visii)n in fairy laud. 
 
 ()nlhe following morning, at four (j"( lock, our 
 part}, and man\ others, ascended out uX the 
 Champlain X'alley and clambered over the hills, in 
 stage-coaches, to a railway station at (llenn l-'alls, a 
 few miles distant. \\\ the side of the road is the 
 ravine which, resembling a huge basin, is half full 
 of black, murky watei", and ui)on a sign-board at- 
 tached to a tree are |)ainted these words, '•The 
 l»lood\ I'ond." whi( h is a sufficient explanation. 
 It was along this road that, in 1775, ^'^'-* i)rilliu!it 
 iitid victorious r.urL(o\nc. with his gallant arms, 
 
T^ 
 
 12 
 
 Pri:e Supers. 
 
 
 niarched on to tlie (IcNlriictioTi which hetcl him at 
 Saratoga. 
 
 As we liad on the hike witnessed tlie sunset, it 
 was fit that we should now on the mountains be- 
 hold him rise again. The sight was magnificent, 
 and entirely beyond all anti(ii)ation. The early 
 rays of the sun produced a vapory mist, which 
 hung about the motmtaiiis like robes of pur]»le 
 and gold. As the sun advanced, the h)lds of this 
 vai)ory mist assumed all the lints of the rainbow, 
 and the sight left impressions which will linger in 
 thi- mind throughout lorn; \ears to come. 
 
 I'-' 
 
 
.hi K.\i/t' from J\iriidi£t\ 
 
 73 
 
 [<-"' him ;ii 
 
 kmsct. It 
 1 tains 1)0- 
 :nincent. 
 pic cai-Iv 
 . which 
 purple 
 f>/" this 
 a in bow. 
 ^^^)i,<;x in 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 i'AIM.R No. 4. 
 
 AN KXILK FROM PAKADISL:. 
 
 .-/ A*!"//(///<v of Real Life — ^' Truth ^(rniii^i-r than F.ithit,' 
 
 CHAPTKR I. 
 
 While sojourning at Burlington IJcach not long 
 since, a curious and remarkable personal e.\i)eri- 
 ence was by mere accident related to me, which 
 aptly illustrates a state of mind rarely met with 
 by even a close observer. 
 
 Becoming weary of the noise and bustle about 
 the crowded hotel, and desiring a <|uiet and seclu- 
 ded spot for a brief breathing >pell, I strolled 
 leisurely along one afternoon to the eastern ex- 
 tremity of the piers, and reclined under the 
 shadow of the smaller lighthouse. The day had 
 been extremely hot — so sultry that one felt en- 
 tirely bereft of animation, and e\en away out 
 there in the lake scarcely any perceptible breeze 
 came off the water. Before me laid an open book 
 which had on previous occasions proved deeply 
 enter t lining, l)ut it too seemed to have lost its 
 interest, or, rather, failed to awaken mine, for 1 
 
 could not sufficiently concentrate my attention to 
 t: 
 
 
jf /te • 
 
 74 
 
 I'ri-.r Ptf/y.-/. 
 
 (.i"> 
 
 I 
 
 read. 1 Will in one of those idle, dreamy moo 
 whicli, 1 dare say, most people feel occasionally 
 while fre([uenling an) kind of a summer resort 
 JhoLights followed thoughts, and scene> after 
 scenes evolved themselves before my mental view. 
 As I tints mused wistfully, I found myself watchini; 
 the distant vessels and steamers, which, far away 
 over the lake, looked lil ■ small white si)eck^^ 
 against the blue hori/on. Slowly, softl) and ma- 
 iesticallv moxinu over the calm surface, miles and 
 miles away, the graceful and peaceful motion of 
 those shii)s reminded me of the lives of tho>e few 
 I'Ut fortunate i)eople who glide over the sea of life 
 undisturbed by the winds of adversity, and fmally 
 land peacefully on the other shore. How different 
 is the f;ite of others ! No sooner are they afloat 
 ui)on the ocean of time than the black douds 
 begin to gather, the storm rises, and the unmert i- 
 ful l)illows roll about them, never ceasing until the 
 unhappy victim becomes a forlorn and shipwrecked 
 l)ilgrim on the sliore of Kternits. How long my 
 reverie would have ( ontinued I know not, for I had 
 become lost in thought, and was almost uncon- 
 scious of the flight of time, when I was suddenly 
 aroused b) the ai)i)earance of a stranger, whc^ had 
 come up to me unobserved. He seemed equally 
 surprised, and his manner told me that he, too, 
 had come out there with the expectation of being 
 
 ^w. 
 
 
*-s 
 
 . /// E\iU' Jro)n l\iradii>e. 
 
 75 
 
 rc'soif 
 
 afUr 
 ' view. 
 
 '■ a\V:iy 
 
 1(1 ma 
 
 es and 
 ion of 
 i- /cw 
 
 r>r life 
 
 'inaliy 
 
 K-rcnt 
 
 afloat 
 
 lends 
 
 len i- 
 
 I the 
 fked 
 my 
 liad 
 :on- 
 ?nly 
 lad 
 Illy 
 
 riu 
 
 alone. A tew common-place remarks were care- 
 lessly exchanged, and, as he was about to retire, 
 he accidentally observed the title of the unused 
 liookwhich laid beside me, and (juickly recognized 
 it as an old friend — one of his special fiu'orites. 
 
 ( 'autiously ascertainint^ how much of it I had read 
 . . . * 
 
 he carefully avoided referring to that portion which 
 
 I still had to peruse. There was an interesting 
 >oiiKthing about him that struck me from the first, 
 and as each moment slipped by, the desire to pro- 
 long the interview gradually strengthened. He 
 was a fine-looking young fellow, of not o\er twenty- 
 six or seven, and was of about the average height. 
 I lis hair and complexion were dark, and there was 
 a kind of • inning oi)enness about his large clear 
 eyes. The quiet manliness about his whole bear- 
 ing could not fail to imi)ress any one. Phrenolo- 
 gists would have described his face as intellectual, 
 but the expression whi( h it bore denoted the pres- 
 cnre of some sad, melancholy burden, which he 
 would fain conceal. His whole appearrnce, style 
 and manner forcibly called to mind my idea of 
 the gifted but unhappy author of "The Raven," 
 I'Algar Allen I'oe. 
 
 His ( onversational jvjwers were exceedingly 
 good ; his experience seemed to ha\e been very 
 varied, and his polished mind appeared to be a 
 ((>m[)lete storehouse of knowledge. We drifted 
 
 I i 
 
^ 
 
 76 
 
 yVv'cc J\ipen. 
 
 into the subject of human hfe, and he glanecd at 
 Society in all its phases. I became convinced thai 
 he i)0sses^jed a heart which had been full of gen- 
 erous sentiments, and from the spirit of his re- 
 mark > 1 gleaned that his path through life had not 
 been c er a bed of roses, and that his young life 
 was Already opjjressed with the great weight of 
 some recent woe. J'or some time he was very 
 unwilling to speak on this j)oint, but, at length 
 finding that my sympathy was sincere, he turned 
 his melancholy but handsome lace towards me, 
 and, with an expression of the most i)itiful earnest- 
 ness, related the following singular story : 
 
 *' More than half a dozen years ago, there lived 
 in yonder city a youth who had but few relatives 
 in all this great America. He was a shy and timid 
 boy, but was bright and strong, and in time won 
 many friends, who became \ery dear to him. His 
 youth, however, did not prevent him from fully 
 realizing the weakness of his position, but, taking 
 a survey of the situation, he bravely resolved to 
 struggle hard, and soon learned to ' labor and to 
 wait.' Inexi)erienced in the ways of the world, 
 and without a guiding voice to aid him, he at fir.st 
 found advancement slow, but stej) by step he 
 raised himself above the thousand obstacles whi<ii 
 beset him, and during all that fierce struggle the 
 only grains of comfort that reached his heart were 
 
 < 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
//// Exile Jroin l\iradisc. 
 
 77 
 
 «-*d that 
 or gen- 
 
 his re- 
 had not 
 >ng lite 
 pgJn of 
 >i Very 
 lengt/i 
 turned 
 "s nie, 
 nnest- 
 
 ntives 
 timid 
 - Won 
 His 
 
 Allly 
 
 king 
 d to 
 1 to 
 •rl(/, 
 first 
 lie 
 icli 
 he 
 ■re 
 
 tlic smiles of liis stranger friends. It was away 
 back in tiiose early times tliat a sweet and gentle 
 girl attracted his attention, and as the months 
 went by her image, all unconsciously to him, be- 
 came gradually fixed in his heart. Every time he 
 met her a feeling of embara^sment crept over him, 
 and his heart would beat faster in a strange and 
 unaccountai;le manner. Never having experienced 
 the influence of a sisters love, and having seldom 
 mingled in tlie company of strange ladies, it is not 
 much to be wondered at that he should have 
 grown up with erroneous and exaggerated ideas of 
 the opposite sex. Woman seemed to him to be an 
 entirely superior being, and it took him a long 
 time to realize that the fair ladies whom he met 
 could look upon man with other than feelings of 
 disdain. His views, however, gradually became 
 modified, and in time he learned to esteem the 
 < ompan)' of delightful women above all other 
 enjoyments, 
 
 " Near after )car went by, and every day that 
 sweet girl became more and more the idol of his 
 heart, and her form was never absent from his 
 thoughts. They met frequently, on the street, at 
 the grand parties ; and although they attended the 
 same church for years, yet were they as strangers 
 to one another, and never exchanged an affection- 
 ate word. 'riutuuh he had learned to lo'.e her 
 
 I I 
 
(16- 
 
 f1 
 
 H 
 
 78 
 
 Prr.c J\ipcts. 
 
 witli all the arili)!- of his soul, and was buoyed uj- 
 l)y the single hope ihat she would some day smile 
 on him, still he dare not i^o to her, or speak t(j her 
 of his great i)assi'^;n, for between them was tlic 
 great barrier-- wealth. 
 
 " ( », ihe p(.)wcr of hoj)e ! I'nder its magic 
 sway the greatest obstacles appear as naught, and 
 the strongest walls are of jio account. He hoped 
 that he would win wealth and position, and thus 
 pave liis way to her with gold. The beautiful 
 dream took possession of him, .ind he never 
 paused to (juestion the asj)iration. On he toiled, 
 i.ver employing all (onceivable pre(\tutions to crin- 
 ceal his secret love. At times, tiie impression 
 would faintly dawn upon him (hat ihe idol of his 
 heart liad by some means, di'.ined the set ret <»f 
 his life, and the extacy of '.he moment was indes- 
 cribable. The sweet dream would (juic kl\ \anish, 
 Iinwevei. when the awful barrier between ihciii 
 lifted iis greatness before his \iew. lUit he hoped 
 on for everything music, ;iit, liie waves, the sea- 
 sons—all S])oke lo iiim of lo\e. How often he 
 repeated the line of the old song, 
 
 'Tlxii! ;irt ><> iieaf iuul yrl mi f.ti," 
 
 can never be know», and. occasionally, would 
 flash across his mind that lujrrid thought : 
 
 ** Wlii'iu \\ c- \\xA liivc wr --t III nn wol." 
 
/// Jwiic Jroiii J\iriidi:ii. 
 
 79 
 
 K to Ijer 
 R^ the 
 
 ^', and 
 hoped 
 I till), 
 luti/'ij 
 
 oilctl, 
 
 '.ssinn 
 'f his 
 ^■( (./ 
 
 llsl), 
 H J/j 
 pC(l 
 
 <e.-i- 
 
 (i 
 
 i>m lic ioLiid roi harbor it. The idc.i was loo 
 dreadful it) t.()nteirij>iatc. Her i)resen«:e acted 
 upon him in some magnetic manner, and he was 
 cHiircW powerless to control it: lor inlliicnce was 
 
 libl. 
 
 irresi>lil)lc. Xotwiihsiandini; tiiis and the great- 
 ness of \\\> love, times would come when hojcj 
 itself would wane, and then thai unhai)py youth 
 would berome entangled in the mo>i cruel doubt>. 
 r.iit cvcr and an()n, Shakespeare'-- well-known line. 
 
 '•'I'iic cuiii-c "•!" tiiie Invo nrviT ili.! run -luoMtli," 
 
 Would galkuiily come 1(j ihe rest ue, and he wouhl 
 ri<c from tlu- ordeal with a hearl full of the hai)pi- 
 ulss of .I'uifipalion, .ind >o the wmt-; wiiu b\. 
 Tail. 
 
 ■* ll')|ic ^k-k-i led in.ikitli llic I;t;iit -iik, " 
 
 .\Vii\. alter all llic l<)n;; years of w.iiling anil htjjjinu, 
 l.c awoke one day \.. I lie awful truth that he wa> 
 *«tili as far from the .eaol of his liappiness as he 
 wa*^ at I lie bt'uinning. 
 
 *-|.u< k had been ai.;;ai:isl iiini. I'orlunc .ixoidetl 
 him. and he gradually realized that the sweet girl 
 wl)(»m lie had learned to adcre, could ne\er, ne\er 
 be his. The la^l gleam t,f ht»pe then \anis!ied oi.t 
 of \\\^ soul forever, and ihe sweel dream of his life 
 < ame to an en<l. The shot k of that terrible reali- 
 ■i,x\\ )X\ was almost beyond cnduran* e. The great 
 f>ll\ of h.is life ro>e slt)wiv i'et'orj in'-- \ 'ew. anil 
 
 i 
 
8o 
 
 Prize Papers, 
 
 '^en he had discovered the uffr-r « • 
 
 )'ear8 
 
 ^^e fell to the earth and 
 
 ";^tion had so warped his 
 
 w 
 
 asing for 
 
 '^r't. The Iiall 
 
 ■Jong been 
 •^t tlic shado 
 
 uci- 
 
 »"'"d that he Jiad all 
 
 ^'ver haxing cherished 
 nope. 
 
 over-reaching the substance, 
 and he ahnost cursed I 
 
 t'^'-^t frail, false, but 
 
 '" grasping 
 ''"niself Tor 
 
 great change canic 
 
 o lose all its cl 
 
 over I) in, . ij^-^. 
 
 useless d 
 
 '"^rni. Tiie ^vorld bee 
 
 se 
 
 SWcOt 
 
 ■eiDed 
 
 ^^•^crt, and wher 
 
 ■inK' to him a 
 
 so much beaut\. I 
 
 ■' "^!^^^^ former!)- beheld 
 
 '<-' now could 
 
 ''■"'■•'''''■•■"'■oX t;'^r•''■'^''•^•^''•^- 
 ^ 'le s transfer m^Ari ^ . • 
 
 ' nc terrible ov iv^ 
 
 ''-<>--.d,i„a,.„.voi.;:,;;i:„^^'-'''-'- 
 
 . " "'eliistonuhl, h I l,.,- ■ 
 '^">yo.v„e.v,.cnen.e , ' ■.'"'""■'^'""-' V-n 
 
/In Exile from Paradi^t'. 
 
 8i 
 
 ^\v\g for 
 (lad aj; 
 |e//' /or 
 
 1 
 
 urave. It is that, long ago, I allowed my imagina- 
 tion tu usurp my reason in directing my hopes and 
 asi)irations. Under the delusive guidance of 
 fancy, for a short season my life became one long 
 beautiful dream. I drifted dowi\ the current of 
 Time in a lovely and beautifully colored vessel of 
 alass, and mv eves ever rested on the ;ovelv walks 
 :ii\d flowers, and arbors of a beautiful garden, 
 which ever ai)pearcd just beyond my reach. IJut 
 my ' lil bark ran foul of an unscvn shoal, and 
 then the columns and pillars and arches which had 
 sheltered me, tumbled and crashed about my 
 head. And when the last fragment had disa|>- 
 peurcd froni under me, and, a> I lay strugglm.r 
 under the devastating elements, a voice from over 
 the surging billows fell i pon my ear and pro- 
 nounced me, fore\er more, a forlorn and hopeless 
 ' exile from Paradise.' " 
 
 ^\ l"ien he had ilnished, he turned hi> f:ice away 
 aiul rcnuiine'l fcM' a lime in deep thought. I fell 
 llKit it would be but mockery to attempt to con- 
 sole him with words, and the silence for the next 
 few moments was painful. Presently he arose, 
 and taking me bv the arm, we walked >lowh alonu 
 toward the ferry. Through some superhuman 
 effort he had shaken off the tertible mournfulness 
 which had enshrouded him durins; ihe re<ital of 
 the latter part ot the storv. and had a>>umed a 
 
S2 
 
 O'-i^rce of ch 
 
 «in oiit- 
 
 / 
 
 V/:. y 
 
 '/ 
 
 T^fV. 
 
 t'cniiln 
 
 CSS 
 
 that 
 
 was 
 
 •"^tenons /-riend had 
 
 to 
 
 .^''"ngsdioon 
 
 I'crhaj 
 
 \''^ ^^'^^^ his hand, d 
 
 <-''t ^^ml ua 
 
 VJHi 
 
 •s /ore\ 
 
 isau 
 
 cr, 
 
 Ppeared 
 
 ^^one on board „/ 
 
 '''» my vic-M- 
 
 4 
 
 l'\K| II. 
 
 Uh 
 
 ^ n.AlTFK 
 
 *■■'», month 
 
 ki'ic stra 
 ^vhoni J 
 
 s a-o, j , 
 
 }VJ, 
 
 i< tir 
 
 .-^c c\j)cnc/i(x. o/- 
 
 'dctl, 
 
 ih, 
 
 in ih 
 
 ^'^«-' cohin 
 
 , ^^'^^'^'-mally „;,;';;;;: ^^^mnrkahle youlh 
 
 ^'>-in fiction- J, , ''^•"'^^'^^' " 'nuh i. .;..„.. ,. 
 
 ;;-'" ^--'. .».;:; z''-:, - • ^ .-...k „.,, 
 
 ,i^' >-.'-..,*;;: ;r, :;..:■'---..'-. 
 
 '"- ever |,econ,e kn.,»n , , """^"<----^ «n a-aj 
 
 '•f •-■ -0 ".hers, s,M ;, ,^^^^ 
 
 it 
 
. /// J.\i/i jroui J\uadisi. 
 
 H.^ 
 
 
 '"ins, 
 //.I / 
 I J 1.1 r 
 
 tc/, 
 l/.c- 
 ct, 
 
 as 10 consiiiulc them an ilevaliiiLi; and iiisiriw live 
 study. Sliould tlic lollowin;^ brief narralive prove 
 latking in ronianii«: interi^st, nr fail to awaken llv..' 
 svnii)athy of the reader, the fault nuisi he aitri- 
 huted to the inahihty of the writer, rather than t-> 
 the uninteresting' ( haraeter of the story itseh'. 
 
 lor ui)war(l> of a <iuarier of a century ni\ um le, 
 John J. I'endlelon, has resided in a » ertain < ii\. 
 the name of which need not here be nientionrd. 
 A phtin, practical business man, reu;ular in hi^? 
 habits as clockwork, he has always been noted for 
 his utter abhorrence of indolence and an unrelent 
 ing antipath)' to imjjosters of every kind. Shrewd, 
 f.irseeing, and jwssessed of some « apital, he was 
 long ago enabled to lay the foundation (»f a ])usi- 
 ness which grew to what may properl\- be termed 
 huge i)roporti<>ns. it is, indeed, little to i)e won 
 dered at that, in time, such men should <ome to be 
 regarded in business circles as a sort of combina- 
 tion of fnnmess, slal)ility and power. And yil in 
 this instance it is pleasing to observe a strong love 
 of ac< umufation, methodical habits, and what is 
 termed "closeness in business ' never ( ru^hed all 
 the kindly feelings out of a naturally generous heart. 
 
 I had grown up in my uncle's warehouse, but it 
 is only four years sin<e I was admitted into the 
 firm as junior partner. 
 
r 
 
 84 
 
 /'//;.■■ J'lipers. 
 
 M>- uncle's re.-,;ilence was half . ■> 
 
 ""' a large, siibstantiaMookinl ! ''"^' ^' 
 
 '"K l>ack a short distance if.""' ''°"'^- ^''-""1- 
 
 ''-'•-"ily.onsis.edofhi, Ir •; '■"'^°"' 
 'I""., and .Minnie-. " *"«'"^'-.,, .San,h. 
 
 ^t'Vt to his 1)1), •,. . f \ 
 
 ^'<^%''.>vasinh ; r^^^^^^^ 
 
 •■^>-r.O,,,,, ^,^-;j'"'-hhad,in,hccon,s>. 
 
 "■■•e or ,ood u.s.e ^!^ "'^" "■^•■•""' "^u'd l-o- 
 
 
 '^S cfrourse, ;i fre, 
 
 '" ^^'^ ^ i ^vas almost 
 
 '^'^•^"' ^i^ilor at ,m uncle s 
 
 'nn^ily,andn.any;;;X7^^^'-t'^^oncortl 
 
 Miere 
 
 *'^e ages, but th, 
 
 ""'-^s not nuicl, din 
 
 t-ousin' 
 "^'•vnre iu their 
 
 th-.- 
 
 "■ g^^ncral 
 
 '■'■'' "'^'^^ ' ^^"sidtiable din: 
 
 rcspcc: 
 
 •"^arah 
 licate I 
 
 ••IM>taranceand dispos 
 
 it ions. 
 
 •rcru 
 
 C U1 
 
 «as a tall, g,acen,l, 1,1 
 'row rivalled the Ijij. 
 
 ■e)cd 
 
 "•-■licate l.ro>v rivalled the ,V"."'-^>'^1 «"!. 1,,, 
 ''-'■ «"f.ly ronn,le.l ho u '' '"• "' '^"'■"-^' '^'ul 
 
 iou-. \ 
 
 '^ abundance of rich 
 
 ere tinged «iih a 
 
 '^"«ed so tastefull) 
 
 gold 
 
 -'»")■ apparent 
 
 ^"^J yet so sininl 
 
 en h 
 
 air 
 
 10S\ 
 
 ar 
 
 '^^'•"^'glc" lor eftect I 
 
 P'e- without 
 
 etil a be\vit( I 
 
 WWJ. 
 
in E.xiie from J'unjiihv. 
 
 Si 
 
 stand- 
 |"cJ iiad 
 
 pt and 
 
 l^indi, 
 
 '•'lid 
 't/i all 
 
 fthc 
 It in 
 
 
 uJ 
 
 t 
 
 liarmonioiisness to Iier face and figure wliich de- 
 lightfully accorded with her voice and manner. 
 
 Mora and Minnie were decidedly dark. Jhere 
 was a marvellous resernbianc e between their roguisli 
 black eyes, and their merry, laughing voices were 
 seldom much subdued as they romi)ed about the 
 house and garden, like a pair of untamed faries, 
 ( )ften has dear Aunty been obliged to remonstrate, 
 by looking shocked, and saving, in a low, soft 
 voice, " (iirls I girls I I ' 
 
 I'pon which, my two darling i uiisins would aj)- 
 proach to make some affectionate reply, and also, 
 perhaps, to play some wild prank upon my unsus 
 pecting self. 
 
 Sarah was ])assionaiely fond of music. During 
 the long summer evenings, while some such scene 
 as described above was being enacted in the gar- 
 den, hill* would sometimes be seated at the piano, 
 \s ilh some grand i)iece from lleethoven, or Haydn, 
 (»r .\b)/arl, or perhaps, a selection from some opera, 
 spread out before her, and as her delicate fmgers 
 swept oxer the keys, ringing out those grand, har- 
 monious combinations in all their graceful and 
 marvellous modulations, her ver)' soul seemed to 
 be in sweet communion with the spirit of the 
 music. In the midst of our mirthfulness without, 
 I havv oft.n been iield spell bound, tor an inUanl 
 
^ f 
 
 •f) 
 
 'rr. 
 
 rati 
 
 IS. 
 
 \ 
 
 -charmed l>) the c;M|uisiteV i^rand strains which 
 < amc out of the open windows and Moated awa) on 
 the summer air. 'i'hen, sometimes, I would cd 
 lect uncle and aunt and Mora and Minnie in a lit 
 tie grou]) just outside the wintlow, and when the 
 music ceased we would clap (<ur hands and give 
 Sarah a plavt'ul round of applause. 'I'hen she 
 would come out, and, with a saucy shake of tb.c 
 head, she would say, in a kind of theatrical wa\ : 
 
 "Thank you, I'red, )(>u hase drummed up^ji'ite 
 a respe( table audience." 
 
 Those were, indeed, hapi>y, luipp) times. In 
 tile innocence of our hearts, we young peo|)le 
 seemed to imagine that tho^e halcyon da)s would 
 last forever ; but Time, the great destro)er and re. 
 storer, rolled (|uietly on, and changes came alxn.t 
 as do the views in a revob ing kaleidoscope. 
 
 The business of the Hrm necessitated my (le])ar- 
 ture for luirope, where, it was expected, I would 
 r:-(|uire to remain at least a )ear. .\c((>rdini:;l\ , I 
 bade adieu to my iVieiids and left home iti .M;n(!i, 
 .S75. 
 
 i 
 
 
 I II AITKR II. 
 
 Of my business tour over the whole of the north 
 crn and a [»ortion of the .southern parts of luirope 
 1 will ha\e nothing to say, becau>e that trip has no 
 
/ / // /'.\ ill- ju ir I \in ttlist'. 
 
 ^7 
 
 Ihv 
 
 licaringon our stoi)', c\cti)t to ^how tluil I was dc- 
 lainctl longer than was t\|)t'( ted, and I did not 
 reach home again until the end of Ma\, iS7(). 
 Immediately after my return \arioiis important 
 matters necessitated m\ constant attendance with 
 my uncle at the office. I was, therefore, prevented 
 from visiting my cousins as soon as I would like to 
 have done. I'hey had, however, driven down to 
 ihe office without delay, and greeted me with an 
 affectionate and livel) welcome. 
 
 Towards the middle of the afternoon of the thinl 
 day uncle a. id I had got all our ( orrespondeni e, 
 calculations, etc., into some kind of ship-shaj)e and 
 were leisurely smoking a cigar, while disc ussmg 
 some n^inor details, when Minnie popped into the 
 office and said, in a comically earnest sort of way : 
 
 "dome, l*'red, this kmd of treatment will be tol 
 crated no longer. \'ou ought to i)e ashamed of 
 )()urself, you imgrateful scamp 
 
 i» 
 
 I laughed and [ileaded business. 
 
 " lUisiness !" she i:onlinued ; '• y(;ii ( ertainly do 
 look ver)- busy just now, with your feet on the 
 table and a < igar in your mouth!" 
 
 •• You always were hard on nic. Minnie." 1 re- 
 plied, as I put awa) so.iie book■^. 
 
[' 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 8S Pn\e Piipcrs. 
 
 " It is my opinion that I have been too easy with 
 you, or you couKl never l)e so careless of our feci 
 inus,"' she retorted. 
 
 L'nrle dropped in ;i word or two, and then Mi 
 nie continued : 
 
 n- 
 
 *' hut how i)ale you do look, I'red. We are all 
 waiting outside, and you must come for a drive. 
 The fresh air will do you good." 
 
 As 1 hai)|)ened to be a rather healthy specimen 
 
 1( 
 
 ah 
 
 of a young fellow, my lovmg cousni s aiarmi 
 mark was somewhat lightly received. I did not 
 need n\uch persuasion, however, to accei)t her 
 temi)ting prescription. Sarah and Mora were wait 
 ing in the carriage, and soon after we were all off 
 for a long dri\e. 
 
 I'lora was as lively as a (Ticket, and, indeed, so 
 far as 1 could ob.serve, neither she nor Minnie had 
 (hanged a bit during my long absence. Sarah 
 gentle, loving Sarah had grown more lovely than 
 of yore. Mer beautiful eyes had become more ex- 
 pressive, and her manner, if anything, had become 
 just a little more reserved. As 1 listened to her 
 charming remarks in the general conversation, her 
 sweet voice and natural and pleasing deportment 
 Ihrillec' .newilh delight. 
 
 1 had to tell them about the cities 1 IkuI \isi'.cd 
 
 \ 
 
/// I'.xilc from J'linid.si 
 
 89 
 
 Yy with 
 ir U.x\ 
 
 h M 
 
 111- 
 
 |arc nil 
 
 ng rc- 
 i(I not 
 >t her 
 - wait- 
 nll off 
 
 .^cJ, so 
 : had 
 ah- 
 thnn 
 -' c\- 
 onic 
 ' her 
 her 
 lent 
 
 lal 
 
 Kl 
 
 • ind ;il)i)iil the people I hail met, :ind they, in turn, 
 had so imu h to tell in^ot' what had been gong on 
 (.luring my absence that, before we knew it, the 
 drive had extended tartiier than had been intended. 
 
 If was a delighttui summer afternoon, and four 
 happier mortals than were conta ined in tl.at ( ar- 
 riage could seldom be grouped together. In re- 
 luming, we passed along a central business street. 
 The c(jnversation had grown less animated, and. 
 for the moment, we all seemed to be busy with our 
 .WW thoughts, when, suddenly, Minnie gave a (|uick 
 little slnrt, .ind pointing towards a street corner, 
 laughingly cried out : 
 
 '* There he is, Sarah." 
 
 \Ve all turned oui- eyes in the direc tion indicat 
 ed, aiul I was just in time to catch a glimjjse ^A' 
 the back of a tall, well dressetl yoimg man. as he 
 wheeled around the corner. "There is who?" 
 asked Mora, in an unc(jficerned manner. 
 
 Turning to Sarah, and noticing the < olor gather- 
 ing in her cheeks, I laughed and looked knowingly 
 at Minnie c s I ;ai(l : 
 
 " Ah, ha, Sarah, we have disiovered you, but 
 who is the lucky dog, anyway?" 
 
 Sarah recovered herself in a moment, and turtv 
 ing her sweet, smiling \ice towards us, asked : 
 
.^^... 
 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 11.25 
 
 1^128 |2^ 
 
 •^ "^ '?1I2.2 
 
 US 
 
 us 
 
 i 
 
 
 ^1 
 
 f 
 
 
 ^"^ 
 
 ■^ 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 ^U 
 
 "'"^s^^t 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STRUT 
 
 WnSTER.N.Y. M5M 
 
 (716)872-4503 
 
 '^ 
 

 go 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
90 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 •' What in tiio world do you all mean ? JJo you 
 really sup[)osc iliat I am i)ersonall) ncquaiiUed 
 with ferybody on the wliole street?'" 
 
 "O, no, not everybody," insinuated Minnie. 
 
 " We onh asked about one individual," ren\arked 
 Flora. 
 
 " Ves, iliat liandsome young fellow wlio disa[)- 
 peared round the corner just now."' said I. 
 
 Then Sarah laughed, and good-naturedly re- 
 plied : 
 
 "As 1 do not liappen to ))e a city directory, my 
 inquiring friends will have to apply- elsewhere for 
 their information." And so the matter dropped, 
 but not with me. for the incident, thougli Lrifling, 
 had disclosed ' nn<iderable. 
 
 That eveniriLT. a '(^w friends had been invited to 
 the house, and, as usual, my youngei cousins were 
 the life of the luirty. >arah was adorned in an ele 
 gant evening costume. whi<h i)ecame her admir- 
 ably. There were a number of young j)eo])le i)res- 
 ent, and as Sarah moved about among tiie uuests, 
 solicitous for the enjoyment of all, 1 observed that 
 slie seemed to have no s[)ecial interest in any par- 
 ticular one i)resent. After a few hours of delight- 
 ful social intercourse, the visitors departed, and 
 after saying "goodnight"' to uncle and aunt, antl 
 
An Exile from Pamdist. 
 
 9» 
 
 an unsuccessful attempt to kiss my younger cous- 
 ins, i started out for my lodgings. 
 
 Having but few other friends in the city at that 
 time, my evenings were chiefly spent at my uncle's 
 sometimes listening fo*' hours to Sarah's marvellous 
 music ; o:her times accompanying my cousins to 
 the opera or spending an occasional evening at the 
 residences of their friends ; during which time J 
 became more and more convinced that Sarah was 
 more than interested in some one whom I did not 
 know. 
 
 Scarcely a month had elapsed, since my return 
 home, when business again called nie away. This 
 time I had to make a brief tour of western Ontario, 
 and it was on my return homewards that I acci- 
 dentally laid over in Hamilton, and spent a couple 
 (jf days at the hotel on Burlington lieach. 
 
 I'hrou^hout m\ limited exnerience in life 1 have 
 endeavored to convince myself that man is entirt- 
 l\ iiide[)endent of that which is commonly called 
 " fate." It seems reasonable to suppose that every 
 effect must have its legitimate cause, and yet in 
 human actions how often do wonderful events 
 transpire: without any apparent cause or intention 
 on the part of any one. 
 
 lo this da\', I cannot account tor the extraordi- 
 nary fact that I, above all others, should have hap- 
 
92 
 
 Fnze P(ipt'/s. 
 
 pened to be out there on that p uticiihir pier, at 
 that very identical moment, and that it was to my 
 particular ears that that remarkable young fellow 
 should have told the story o\' his life. 
 
 It surely must have been the mysterious working 
 of Providence that brought us two strangers so un- 
 expectedly together. 
 
 On the following day 1 continue;! my tri]) home- 
 ward, and soon after the incident of the pier had 
 almost faded out of my mind. 
 
 When I reached home I was astonished to learn 
 that Sarah was dangerous! v ill. I had been ahsent 
 only a couple of weeks, and when I went away, she 
 was, to all appearances, as well as she ever was in 
 her life. 
 
 Aunt told me that a few days after \wy de{.>ar- 
 ture, Sarah and Minnie went out one afternoon for 
 a drive, and when they returned in the evening, 
 Sarah was exceedingly pale and seemed terribly 
 grieved and despondent. For the next few days 
 she had entirely lost her ajjpetite and could eat 
 nothing. She .grew gradually worse until finally 
 she was prostrated with some kind of brain fever. 
 
 The doctor ordered the strictest t|uietness, and 
 would allow no one to tjuestion her. She had been 
 slightly delirious, and, waking suddenly once or 
 
 1 n-j 
 
//■// Exile Jrom Paradise. 
 
 93 
 
 f 
 
 twice and looking wildly about the room, sobbed 
 out in a pitiful tone, "(lOne ! gone 1 1 gone ! I I"' 
 
 Uncle and aunt were terribly grieved at the un- 
 ex])ected illness ot their darling, and Flora and 
 Minnie had lost all their mirthfulness, and their 
 eyes wt re dim v "Mi watching and weeping. For 
 days and days the ]jatient lingered between life and 
 death, and that happy, joyful home was turned into 
 a lioiise of mourjiing. 
 
 One dav. as Minnie and 1 were sittino- in the 
 drawing-room, talking of Sarah's illness, she told 
 me how that, when returning home from the drive 
 on that fatal da) , they stop|)ed in front of a store 
 and sent the coachman in to make some small i)ur- 
 chase. And while the carriage was thus standing 
 beside the pavement, a messenger came up, and 
 without saying a word, handed Sarah a letter, then 
 walked away. Sarali read the letter and it was 
 from that moment her illness began. 
 
 " Did you see this K tter, Minnie?" i asked. 
 
 " Not then, but when Sarah grew worse she 
 handed it to me and told me to keep it for her," 
 replied Minnie. 
 
 Then, after some reflection, I said, '• Vou must 
 let me see that letter." 
 
 '' O, I cannot, Fred, T must not," she pleaded, 
 as she a'most burst into tears. 
 
 •r; 
 
 1 
 
n 
 
 
 94 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 "But I must see that letter, Minnie, :<nd p.r- 
 haps I may be able to unravel this myster\/' 1 said, 
 with some firmness. 
 
 Then, alter some further c )nversati(jn, Minnie 
 concluded that it would be better for me to see it, 
 and immediately drew the letter from her bosom 
 and handed it to me. And I read as follows : 
 
 Darling, — During all these years I have been lioping 
 *hat Heaven would smile upon my efforts to attain to that 
 lofty eminence, from which I could invite you to accompany 
 me in a triumphant lour through the reahns of time. 
 
 But, darling, the beautiful dream of my life has been riven : 
 the golden bubbles at which I grasjjed burst and vanished at 
 the touch of my hand, and left naught behind but the ashes 
 of my hopes. 
 
 The beautiful flower svhich blooms so sweetly in the con- 
 servatory could never withstand the fierce northern blast. 
 
 By the time this reaches you I will be far advanced on a 
 journey to a distant land. Forget that you ever saw me, 
 darling, and when, on Sabbath, you again kneel in the old 
 church, look over towards my vacant seat just once, and 
 then pray that my face may be erased fiom your meinory 
 forever. Farewell, J. 1. 
 
 I folded the letter up carefully, and 1 landed it 
 back to Minnie. She pleaded earnestly for me to 
 say something, anything, but for a time 1 dared 
 not utter a word. 
 
 Leaving the house soon after 1 went straight to 
 my lodgings, and for hours 1 was lost in medita 
 tion. 
 
 /•^ 
 
\ 
 
 A /I Exi/e from l\iradise. 
 
 95 
 
 " Yes. it must be so,"' I said to myself. I'he 
 vnore i retiected, the more firmly 1 became con- 
 vinced that he, of whom I had caught a glimpse 
 that day from the carriage ; he whom 1 had met 
 so accidentally on the pier, and the author of the 
 letter, were one and the same person. 
 
 When 1 had arrived at this conclusion, my first 
 impulse was to wish that I had pushed the scoun- 
 drel into the lake when I had the cliance. Then 
 [ fiercely resolved to follow him, all over the world 
 if need be, until 1 liad avenged my cousin's wrong 
 with hi^ blood. Then, as I tried to recall the 
 story of his life, as he had told it to me — how it 
 had been blighted by disappointment, how he had 
 in conse(|uence relinquished the hope of ever win- 
 ning the girl he loved, how he had favorably im- 
 pressed me as l)eing a man far above the average ; 
 when 1 recalled the letter — which, 1 had \o admit. 
 breathed the very essence of honor -and. iastly, 
 when I reflected that my cousin must cenainly 
 have regarded him favorably, I beg.m to rej.!i/c 
 that he was a man of rare honor wn(}i nobilit\ of 
 soul — 1 began to see that he had made a volun- 
 tary sacrifice at the altar of love. 
 
 IJefore I retired that niarht m\ mind was \\\a(\-: 
 up as to what course I would pursue. 
 
 When 1 presented myself at the house next (\i\.\. 
 
96 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 ii 
 
 :i 
 
 the first to meet me at the door was Minnie, and 
 in answer to her pleading look, I said : 
 
 " Yes, I am beginning to understand, but please 
 do not ask any questions just yet — wait." 
 
 'J'hen, for the first time since her sister's illness, 
 a smile stole over her pretty face. 
 
 Several days after, Sarah was a little better, and 
 expressed a desire to see me. As 1 stood beside 
 her couch, listening to iier feeble voice and gazing 
 into her l)eautiful eyes, I thought i had never 
 .seen such a pure and .'Spiritual exjjression. It re- 
 minded me of the angelic fa(xs portrayed by the 
 old masters, which I had seen in European art 
 galleries. 
 
 She took my hand in both of hers, and, looking 
 up into ni}- face, whispered softly : 
 
 "Find him, Frederick." 
 
 I saw, in an instant, that Minnie must have been 
 her confidant, and I said, in a trembling voice. 
 
 "Trust me, Sarah, I will find him." 
 
 For an instant her blue eyes looked earnestly 
 into mine; then a sweet, heavenlike ex])rcssion 
 came into her fac e, and she fell back upon the pil- 
 low and I withdrew. 
 
 I told my uncle all that I had learned and in- 
 
 
/J// ILxile J/oni Paiaiisi'. 
 
 97 
 
 formed him of my plans. His great heart was 
 moved, and he turned liis face away to hide his 
 emotion. 
 
 1 sj^ent days and nights in making inijuiries, and 
 travelled from cit\ to city, only to be disappointed. 
 At last I discovered some slight information, and, 
 exactly tiiree weeks from the day I stood beside 
 Sarah's bedside, i found myself in the Art (i.iller\ 
 of the Centennial, gazing in speechless wonder at a 
 magnificent painting entitled, " 'Tiie Exile from 
 Paradise." It was a grand conception. I will at- 
 tempt to ]x)rtray it. The river of Time swept 
 gratidly on towards the ocean of Eternity. 
 
 I'\ar back in the distance, in a lovelv sunuN' vale. 
 Paradi.^e was aliegorically represented by purit), 
 simplicity, peaccfulness and contentment. Far in 
 advance, and ajjj)arcntl) moving with the current, 
 was represented the i)ride, and pomp and glory of 
 the world. A little in rear of this glittering pageant 
 could be seen the fragments of a wreck, upon 
 which lay the struggling form of the drowning 
 youth who, leaving true happiness behind, rushed 
 madly after the vanities of this life ; and when he 
 had overtaken the coveted prizes, and had sprang 
 up to seize them, he discovered the utter hollow- 
 ness of the allurements, for they were but the 
 shadows of what had been left behind. In his 
 backward fall, the frail bark, which had borne him 
 
■ i I 
 
 98 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 along, was shattered to atoms, and he is, soon after, 
 lo be swallowed up in the current of time and lost 
 forever. 
 
 Words can never do that picture justice. It is 
 so grandly sublime in conception, so beautiful and 
 bold in execution, so full of truth and poetry, that, 
 as none but a brilliant genius could design and ex- 
 ecute it, so none but a true artist can faithfully 
 de*" *^ibe it. 
 
 acognized in that picture the handiwork of 
 the man I was in search of, but, strange to say, the 
 artist had suppressed his name. 
 
 I must have stood there for upwards of an hour 
 when, in turning round, I saw a handsome young 
 fellow standing close by, and as he held out his 
 hand he calmly remarked, 
 
 "This is indeed an unexpected [)leasurc. my 
 dear sir ; I am glad to meet you." 
 
 I grasped his hand warmly and replied, 
 
 "John Ingleford, I am overjoyed at finding 
 you." 
 
 "You wished to see me, I supjiose, in reference 
 to the picture. I am sorry to have to tell you that 
 it has already been sold." 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Ingleford," I replied, " it is on 
 another matter that I wish to see you. It is an- 
 
 ^ I 
 
 t 
 
/// /:'.\//<' jivni /'iifddist'. 
 
 99 
 
 Dtlier matter that has caused mc U) travel, ni^ht 
 and day for three weeks, in search of you," 
 
 "In search ol" mel"' he exclaimed, with some 
 alarm. " j)ray ex])!ain : in what way can I be of 
 service to you ? "' 
 
 •' Not here.' 1 said, " come with me to my hotel, 
 
 wiiere wo can converse without intrusion." 
 
 * # * * # * # 
 
 Two hours later, John Ingleford and myself 
 were whirling, in a special train, towards the city 
 in w!r'ch. it seems, we had both been born," 
 
 It was just as I had expected. Sarah and John 
 had long been friends. He was too honorable, 
 however, to confess his love until he was in a posi- 
 tion to offer her a home equally as luxurious as 
 that in which she had been brought up. He specu- 
 lated, but reverses came in which his all had been 
 swept away, and then the greatness of his love for 
 her toid him it was his duty to give her up. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon of the following day 
 when John and 1 reached my uncle's house. Min- 
 nie was the first to meet us at the door, and the 
 dear girl threw her arms aboui my neck and wept 
 for joy. 
 
 Sarah had steadily improved, and was now able 
 to be up, for a time, each day. To my astonish- 
 ment, uncle and aunt welcomed John as they 
 
 \ {■ 
 
lOO 
 
 rrhc J\ipers. 
 
 would lia\c dune had he been a '"son that was los^ 
 and found again." 
 
 In my al)sence, uncle had discovered that John 
 was the son of his old friend, Richard Ingleford. 
 They had been young men logether — had both 
 beou married on the same day and in the same 
 charch. 
 
 Mr. Ingleford had been dead many years, and 
 when my uncle remembered his last request, 
 " that he would have an eye upon his little son," 
 big tears ran down his cheeks as he said — " (iod, 
 forgive me : how I have betrayed that trust." 
 
 That was a happy reunion. As Sarah rested her 
 head upon John's noble breast, in perfect happi- 
 ness, their voung hearts were too full for utterance. 
 
 Not much more remains to be told. 
 
 Flora and Minnie are, if it were i)ossible, more 
 lively than of yore, and the old home again rings 
 with their mirthfulness. 
 
 Sarah is again strong enough to charm us with 
 her glorious music, and when the carriage now 
 goes forth, it contains five instead of four. 
 
 Johns great picture won him fame. 
 
 If the reader could see dear Minnie at this par- 
 ticular moment, she would be found consulting 
 me as to how she will have to do, as she and I offi- 
 ciate at Sarahs and John's approaching w^edding. 
 
 
 1 
 
 T 
 
/\!/(/xc'h'<iy 
 
 lOI 
 
 CHAPTER Vf. 
 
 I'.M'KR No. 
 
 • klhiil'.w AW" 
 
 ./ Sri'itp i> I U i .< I o r y S n a f c h e i /'r,iiu (.>/>/ i v /■> fi. 
 
 IHi: ALARM. 
 
 About six o'clock on the mornin-j, ot" tlic ist of 
 J tine, 1866, 1 was arotised, in a most uncerenioni- 
 (jLis manner, by a sergeant of our (ompany and 
 ordered to rejjort myself at head(]Liarters without 
 delay. 1 had the honor of being a private in No. 
 3 Company, 13th Battalion. The order was start- 
 ling, because, at that time, it was entirely unex- 
 pected. 'I'rouble had been anticipated along the 
 frontier for months back ; a few weeks before there 
 was no knowing what moment the Fenian hordes 
 would cross our borders to rob and plunder the 
 country. In view of that danger our (iovernment 
 had made extensive preparations for defence ; the 
 13th and other volunteer corps were called out and 
 had been under martial law since the beginning of 
 March. They were expected to operate in con- 
 junction with the several regiments of regulars 
 which were then stationed in this part (;f Canada. 
 Consequently, the volunteers had had t[uiteataste 
 
 i i 
 
I02 
 
 P>i%e Papers. 
 
 of soldiering that spring, having been almost con- 
 stant!) in uniform, drilling mr>re or less every day, 
 mounting guard at various places about the city, 
 etc., etc., until they began t'" feel like so;'i.rs ;i;.d 
 rather liked it. Towards the p.iii. .k .A .'lay. how- 
 ever, the fillibustering preparations across the lines 
 had considerably abated, in consequence of which, 
 the excitement among the Canadian people gra- 
 dually subsided uiitil, finally, all apprehension of 
 an invasion had completely vanished. Drilling 
 became less freciuent. The troops at various 
 points had been paid off, thanked and dismissed, 
 and the last parade of the 13th had taken place 
 on the 24th of May, when, after firing the usual 
 Jei( de joie in honor of Her Majesty's birthda)', the 
 battalion was honorably relieved from further dut) . 
 The order, therefore, banged into m\- ears on the 
 morning of the ist of June was altogether unex- 
 pected. The sergeant, hurrying from place to place 
 notifying the members of his company, had no 
 time for explanation ; I gleaned enough, however, 
 to satisfy myself that there was work ahead, and, in 
 all probability, the battalion would be immediately 
 ordered to the front. I doned mv uniform, whicii 
 was Iianging in my room, and. after swallowing 
 some breakfast, was at the drill shed in double 
 quick time. There were many there before me, 
 and in the course of an hour or two almost ever\ 
 
 V 
 
 \ 
 
Ridgeivay, 
 
 ^Oo 
 
 man was in his place. It was a ven strange 
 scene in the drill shed tliat morning ; how- 
 well I remember it. News had come during the 
 night that the Fenians had secretly rallied consid. 
 erable strength and were actually crossing the fron- 
 tier at Fort Erie. The city was growing wild with 
 excitement, and no wonder, for upwards of three 
 hundred of her sons were about leaving for the 
 scene of action. The friends of the volunteers 
 had g thered about the place, and there was a look 
 of peculiar earnestness on every countenance ; the 
 boys stroxe hard to maintain their usual light- 
 heartedness, but a feeling of inexpressible sadness 
 would prevail in si)iie of them. The orders were 
 re?.d and the officer in command (Col. Booker), 
 addressed a few words to the battalion. \\'e 
 were to ])roceed to the front on aclive service, 
 etc., etc. Each man was to provide himself 
 with one davs cooked rations and be read\ 
 to march awiiy in the course of .. hour. I'he pre 
 liminary arrangements were soon completed, for, 
 unfortunately, the men were badl\ e<[uii)ped in 
 thctse days. They were without knapsacks, liaver- 
 sacks, water botde.s, oNercoat straps, and indeed, 
 everything appertaining to a soldier's comfort, but 
 what heeded they the absence of such articles? 
 They possessed patriotism, enthusiasm, courage; 
 and these attributes must carry them through. 
 
 % 
 
 I 
 
104 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 IHi: DEFARirRK, 
 
 About ten o'clock the colors were linfurlcd, the 
 order to move was iiiven. and the battahon marched 
 
 a^\•av amid 
 
 tht 
 
 1, , 
 
 mar< 
 St wishes ot" the citizens. 
 
 A 
 
 special train was in waiting at the (r. W. R. to con- 
 vey the battalion to I'aris, thence down the G. T, 
 
 k. to l)i 
 
 ille, wht 
 
 we arrived about 2,30 p. m. 
 Immediately after landing the men were billeted 
 abort tile town (there being not sufficient hotel ac- 
 commodation for all), and the people received us 
 into their homes with all the cheerfulness the cir- 
 cumstances could admit of. Half a dozen com- 
 rades and myself were allotted to the house of tiie 
 
 late Major . who, together with tlie members 
 
 of his family, welcomed and entertained us in a 
 most hospitable manner. It seemed evident that 
 we were to remain in town at least over night, and 
 the boys were highly enjoying the novelty of the 
 situation. Our .S([uad was just beginning to feel at 
 case in the new (juariers, and we had thanked the 
 gods that our lines had fallen in such pleasant 
 places, when, oh, '• tower of Bable,' a fearful sound 
 was heard. It was the assembly call. New orders 
 had come. I oud and long the bugle call echoed 
 through the evening air, warning the volunteers to 
 prepare for immediate departure, and filling 
 the town's people with indescribable terror. All 
 were (juickiy on board the cars and the train 
 
A'id;;v7^'ay. 
 
 \0' 
 
 
 moved i){\ leaving tlic vast crowd of excited specta- 
 tors to their own retiection. W'e crossed the \Vel- 
 land (!anal at l^ort Coll)()rne and, at day reak 
 next nKjrninii;. our train was stand ini: at a halting 
 Ijla<e by the vray side, near a hit of woods, ahoiu 
 six miles from Ividgeway. Xo sleep in the cars that 
 night. Who could sleep at such .i time ? The ho} s 
 were out early i)rowling ahout in search ot' water, 
 which was tbuiid at last in a ditch beside the track : 
 a better article, by the 1)\-, was discovered by scune 
 at a little farm house near by. At this halting 
 place the '' morning meal " was served to all hands 
 from provisions kindly sent ilown trom I'ort Col- 
 borne. I'hose provisions consisted of ( I'uckers 
 and red herrings, which were, of course, good 
 enough for the occasion if there had been a suffi- 
 cient (juantity of them. Ihit. alas ! tor a lew of us 
 -the j)rovision boxes were "'passed around'" 
 while we were over at the little tarm house, and 
 those herrings we never saw. Here, too, much t(3 
 our surprise and gratification, we discovered the 
 '' ( Hieen's Own' laid up in cars not tar from our 
 own, having ran down ther^ during the night. We 
 were all glad to learn that the two regiments were 
 to i»roceed together. In due time the train 
 started and we arrived at Kidgeway about live 
 o'clock in the morning. i'he village, if it coukl be 
 called a \illage, consisted, at that lime, of a small 
 
f 
 
 1 06 
 
 Pri'^e Papers. 
 
 '. \ 
 
 { ' 
 
 
 w 
 
 \ \ 
 
 sioiv and laNcrn combined, tliree or tour liouses 
 scattered al)oul. and a l)it of a shed called the 
 "station."' After disembarking the 13th formed 
 column of companies, right in front, and halted in 
 the road near the railway ; the Queen's Own, form- 
 ing in similar manner, halted a hundred yards or 
 so further on. A delay of a couple of hours or 
 more took place, during which time the arms w^re 
 minutely examined and ammunition to the extent of 
 60 rounds jjcr man was ser\ed oui. A part of the 
 time the boys were permitted to '* stand easy '"and 
 amuse themselves as best they could under the 
 circumstances. It was generallv understood that 
 our little force was to march along the main road 
 some twelve miles, where it would form a junction 
 witli C'ol. i'eacock's large brigade, whici: was then 
 somewhere in the neighborhood of C'hippawa. It 
 was a glorious summer morning. i'he sun had 
 now ascended some distance above the hori/.on, 
 and had dissipated the damp and chill of early 
 morn ; not a vestige of a cloud could be seen any- 
 where before the clear blue sk\ : the soft grass 
 was still moist with dew, and the big drops on the 
 leaves of some trees near by glistened and sparkled 
 in the sun like jewels of richest hue. Little birds 
 were tiitting about. cliiri)ing gaily, and s' me pretty 
 (lowers in a little garden, in front of a solitarv look- 
 ing house, sent iorth sweet fragrance which ])er- 
 
 % 
 
 Wk 
 
/\/i(i;r7i'(n 
 
 toy 
 
 ses 
 
 
 turned the air. ll was serenelx calm ; no sound 
 <(nikl be heard save our own subdued voices aiid 
 the music of the birds. It was a charming scene 
 bright, lovely, jx-aceful. Suddenly a well known 
 voice rang out the order "'13th, attention! with 
 />a// cartridge load 1 '" Awful words they are 
 freighted with a terrible meaning. The command 
 was (|uickly executed, the charge being sent home 
 with as much ai)parent unconcern as though it had 
 been blank cartridge. Soon after the band of the 
 (J^ueens Own struck up a lively air and led oft' 
 down the road at the head of its regiment, then 
 came the 13th. followed by one company of the 
 " N'ork Rangers."' and a company of '^es from 
 Caledonia, while the extra ammunition wagon 
 brought uj) the rear. One com]jany ot the 
 (hieen's Own and the " Rangers ' were thrown <jut 
 to the right and left to act as scouts. They were 
 to i)roceed a mile or so in advance, in order to 
 feel the wa} for the main body. Such was the 
 order of march adopted by our little brigade, and 
 although the men were not (|uite as fresh and 
 lively as they would have been had they just tum- 
 bled out of their beds at home, still, everybody 
 was in excellent sjjirits, and the force marched 
 gaily along. The road was smooth, tolerably 
 straight, and ran through a level patch of country 
 with farm houses a mile or two apart. The fields 
 
 ii 
 
iiT 
 
 Vi 
 
 nii 
 
 • f 
 
 loS 
 
 J*n'zi' J\ipcrs. 
 
 on cither side wciv grcon with young wheat atul 
 oth.r grain. A strip of l)iisli extended ak)ng 
 about a mile to the left of the road, and a couple 
 of miles tVom Ridgeway, a iiuuh denser ])Ushcom- 
 nieneed about a (juarter of a mile to the right. 
 These woods extended along nearly parallel to the 
 road tor live or six miles, to a short distance beyond 
 rime Kidge, where they gradually circle together, 
 forming a dense woods through which the road 
 runs We had tramped merrily along in the order 
 al)ove described for an hour or perhaps an hour 
 and a half. The sun began to grow intensely liot, 
 and to make it all the worse, the only way we 
 had of carrying our overcoats was to wear them. 
 'I'he heat began to lell on the men. and fwo or 
 three cases of sun-stroke had already occurred 
 along the road. Suddenly our meditations were 
 »:ul short by tlie report of shots ahead. 'i'he 
 firing was repeated three or fcnir times ; it was the 
 signal from the scouts. i'hc latter turned soon 
 after, when, to our sur})rise, we learned that in- 
 stead of meetmg our frientls under Col. j'eacock, 
 we had actually come upon the enemy. 'I'here 
 was no tmie for hesitation, but into aciiox at once. 
 
 The right wing of the (Queen's Own was innne- 
 diately thrown out into skirmishing line. 'I'hisline 
 extended out to the riuht and left of tiie road, and 
 
 pre 
 
 sen 
 
 t d 
 
 a frcnt about two hundrc 
 
 \ar 
 
 m 
 
 r 
 
Rh/i 
 
 tv/l 
 
 109 
 
 lcn'4lli. 
 
 'I"ht 
 
 eft wing of the same corps \\a> to 
 
 1^ 
 
 act as suj)|)orts. an 
 
 rear 01 
 
 th( 
 
 line, w 
 
 (1 formed a sliort distan( e in 
 hile the 1 Uh stot)d in do 
 
 SC 
 
 rohimn. in reser\e. Iialf a mile further hack. 
 Ihese movements \\\\c but the work of a few min- 
 utes. Directly after tlieir execution the order was 
 given to the line. 1>\- a Inigler. to "' Kirc and ad- 
 vance ! "" and tlien the fight began. The line 
 opened independent fux- in a lively manner, and 
 tile enemy, as soon as he had collected his senses, 
 retiu-ned the compliment with a vengeance. The 
 firing was kept up pretty steadily for fifteen or 
 twent\- minutes, our Hue having advanced ovei- a 
 couple of fields. 'Hie air began to fill with smoke. 
 'V\v: smell of powder, the whi/zing of the enemy's 
 bullets, and a siuhl of the bleeding dead bodv of 
 an offi'er of the 'Jueen's ( )w!i. as it is borne to tlie 
 rear, together "ith tlie intense excitement, almost 
 m;ule ilu' heart stand still and awakened a new 
 and Strang.- series o\ thoiiglus in the miiids of those 
 young pnriici))ants. 
 
 Our line c^i'iitinned to a^Uancc o\er the fields, 
 keeping up the fire, and the enemy was forced to 
 fall ba( k towards the woods on the right of the 
 road. .\ssi>tance was asked for from the right of 
 the line, when the Highland companv ot tlie 
 ('^)ueenV Own was despatched to take up |)Osition 
 on the extreme right. 'I'he ci)mpanies in su])port 
 
r" 
 
 I lO 
 
 rri-.f Pa pen. 
 
 •■ 1 
 
 i 
 
 and the reserve, oi eovirse, ke])l following up at 
 their proper distances in rear of the skirmishers, to 
 he ready for any emergency. It was plainly 
 to l)e seen from the start thai the enemy far out- 
 numbered us, was disciplined in the kind of warfare 
 he was engaged in, and was composed of a har- 
 dened and desperate class of men. It was well 
 .known that the Feniaii army consisted chiefly of 
 old soldiers collected together out of recently dis- 
 banded regiments of the U. S. army, and, although 
 it w as looked upon over there as a rabble, yet they 
 were not just the pleasantest sort of peo|)le to meet 
 on an occasion of this kind. They were well 
 rtrmed, had ])lenty of ammunition, and evidently 
 had the benefit of a substantial breakfast that 
 morning, for, as we advanced over the ground from 
 which they had been driven and upon which they 
 had (-amped the night before we found the ashes of 
 their camp fires still hot and their ground strewed 
 about with cooked and uncooked pro\isions. .\ 
 numl)er of rifles, a few officers" swords and various 
 other articles of a like nature were also left scat- 
 tered about near the piles of rails which had been 
 thrown up for i)r()tection. The fighting had now 
 rontinued half an hour or more : we had lost three 
 <jr four deatl or wounded, and had advanced about 
 a mile under fire, when the re])ort " ammunition ex- 
 pended '" came from the front. One company of 
 
4 
 
 .Ridgi'i^'iiy 
 
 1 1 i 
 
 the (Queen's Own had been armeil uiili rci>cating 
 rifles, which were capable of discharging twelve 
 shots per minute, and it was this one company 
 which had sent back the report. The reserve was 
 immediately OKDKRKJi I () ihk kki.iek. Tlie i^^h 
 doubled up in splendid style and (|uickly took up 
 the ground occupied l.)y the (Queens Own. the 
 right wing comprising companies Nos, i, 2 and 3 
 relieving the skirmishers and the lett wing com- 
 panies 4, 5 and 6 — the supports. The (^)ueen"s 
 Own doubled up into close column, t-ll back and 
 took up position in reserve halt" a mile in rear. 
 where the i)arty in charge ot" the colors was lo- 
 cated. No. I was now on the riu;hl. No. 2 iti the 
 centre, and No. ,^ on the left ot' the skinnisliing 
 line. 'I'he company of " Rangers " doubled out to 
 the extreme left while ihe liighland company was 
 pe|)pering away on the extreme right. These 
 changes were, oi course, execuietl without inter- 
 rupting the tire, and the new line v.ent to w(.)rk 
 like men. The smoke became so dense at times 
 that nothing could be seen anywhere about. 
 Field after field was L.rossed and the only avail- 
 able shelter our boys could have against the 
 enemy's bullets was an occasional rail fence. The 
 main body of the Fenians had by this time gained 
 Ihe woods, winch were now but a short distance to 
 the ri^ht of the road, and continued to fire and fall 
 
I I 
 
 r 
 
 i:j( 
 
 /',0 
 
 /\s. 
 
 t; ! 
 
 ] 
 
 
 under llie << \cr w't" llic licc^, lui\in-- kf; ^oinc of 
 ilv.ir dead in ihc ticltU bjchiiui. Liickilv tor u.>., 
 
 \vc ad 
 
 d 
 
 to k( 
 
 With tiic 
 
 ixanrcti so rapi .1\' n-^ to Rctp pace 
 cncni) "s ranL;c. and llie bullets \vcnl wlii/zin;; 
 through the air. n.i()stly oxer our heads. 
 
 A i)urti()n of th- I'enians had entrenched tliem 
 sehes behind a farm-house, a barn, a i>ig-stye, and 
 a stone tence. and were making a tlesperate stand 
 to maintain their ground. The hrinLT now became 
 hotter thaii ever, and the excitement for a time was 
 awful. Several of our men were wounded here, 
 among others, j.ieut. i\ . of the let'i wing, and 
 
 Prixate S . of No. ^:; com}>any, who were shot 
 
 in the breast and neck res])ecti\ely. A few, my 
 rear rank man included, actually tell down through, 
 excessive fatigue, and had to be carried to the rear. 
 
 The fenians wei'e finalix' dri\en from their 
 -^t^o^ghold. and. amid a loud iiurrah from our side, 
 rushed (^ff to join their friends in liie bush. Mean 
 time the lelt of the line had swung rouiul o\er the 
 siiine fen<X' behind the liarn. th.rough aii oriliai'd 
 and do\v!i a sliu;htl\ sIo')iri-- hii'. while the riL:ht re- 
 maiiied sialionar\- near the hou>-,e. Thi-- mo\e- 
 ment slightly changed our front to the riglit, and 
 ua\e a better range at the c;v:m\-. I'he Fenians 
 were falling well back into the woods, and maiiy 
 were gettinir out of the wav as tast as their legs 
 
 t< 
 
Av;/. 
 
 vn 
 
 I I 
 
 \Vi)il(l 
 
 AVV^' < i1-; 111 
 
 wo nr ii)!\i.' m;iii; 
 
 olll 
 
 '< 
 
 (XTs coiiM Ih; r-ccii inoxiiv^ aho'.il in ihe l)ii^h. am! 
 soi'.if (;t our Ixns aiiiu-.cd thcmscivLS hy sijiding 
 the Icndcii iriL'ss.iufs towards thciii, l>ui ihctv wcie 
 too nianv trees for dirc<-t coninUinicalion. TIic 
 l'"enians kept up tlie fire, and their hiJiets eainc 
 whacking aL;ainst our applt: tri.e> and amcaii:' tl-.c 
 hnibs, droi)pinL; the leasee like an ;H]lunin fio>t. 
 The da\' had grown insiilTerahly hot. and not a di'op 
 of water could be had to (piench the burning tiiir,-t. 
 Wet with i)crspiration. co\ercd with dust, arai 
 fa<es and hands blackened b\ powder and .sni<;ke, 
 our l)o\s |)resenied a gliastK appearance. '!"hc 
 fighting continuocL and the woods in front and on 
 the right was ahve with I'"enia:.s. l''roni the enenn's 
 tire we discowred tiiat we had ad\anced too rapid 
 ly. and altliougli thv' Highland company liad bceti 
 worknig hke Trojans all the morning, still the 
 W()ods on the right had not been tliorouglil)' 
 (loaned out as tiie line adxanced. 'I'hiswas about 
 the |)osition of things when, about noc^n, that fa'.al 
 order was gi\en. " Retire, form stpiare and pri.-paro 
 for cavalry.'" VUc urdcv sounded a third time i>e- 
 fore the left ot the lino acted upon it. when No. 3 
 conipanv tloult'ed together, formed scjuare on its 
 own ground, fixed bayonets and awaited tlie a[i- 
 ]>roacb ot'cavah}. We had l)een standing about 
 five or >i\ minutes when a terrible volle\' was lieard 
 
114 
 
 Priu Pnpen. 
 
 l)t.hiiKl. in the direction of the reserve. Soon ;itkr 
 No. ^^ company (loiil)le(l tlirough the orchard, up 
 the hill, and around in front of the house, when — 
 oh, horror of horrors I we were struck dumb with 
 amazement. The wildest excitement prevailed. 
 Far down the road, in the fields, everywhere, we 
 could see oiu' boys tailing back in the utmost dis- 
 order. The reserve had formed a solid S(|uare. in 
 obedience to orders, and the enemy in the woods 
 near by. hnxing understood our bugle call, imme- 
 diately rallied and fired n volley of bullets into the 
 solid body. I'bur or five brave fellows of the 
 Queen's Own dropped dead nl the feet of their 
 comrades. Tliere was no cavalrx : but the mis- 
 take was discovered too late. Another moment 
 and another volley of deadly bullets, more terrible 
 than the fu'st, might be e.\|)ected. The only safety 
 was in separation, and the (juickest way to separate 
 was to break the ranks, and then that band of brave 
 volunteers — which had fought so nobly all the 
 morning, which had advanced so steachly under 
 fire, which had driven the enemy before it, and put 
 him completely to flight — dissolved and fell back. 
 A panic set in, which so(m became universal. A 
 few minutes later the whole force was scattered and 
 moving back lowards Ridgeway. 1 lingered a few 
 minutes about the place looking for friends, some 
 of whom 1 had not seen sintx' the engagement he- 
 
 * i 
 
/\*idii;ra'(i\. 
 
 I f ^ 
 
 ir 
 ip 
 
 [h 
 
 d. 
 o 
 
 s- 
 n 
 
 L-"j. 
 
 giin. l)ut meeting wiili piior luck in this respect. I 
 fmallv concluded to follow l lie «Towd and sauniered 
 along in the tail end of the retreat. The enemy, 
 following up for a short <lisiance. contiinied die 
 lire. .\ little way down die road I fell in with a 
 few members of the Highland company, one of 
 whom had a I'enian riHe. whi< h he was ( arrying 
 hack as a troj)hy. We wcie all e\aniining ihc 
 weapon, antl I had just taken il into my hands 
 when a Kenian bullet from the rear struck the poor 
 fellow w-ho had handed it to me. and he fell dead 
 at our feet. His Iriends carried hi^ bodv along 
 with them. A little further on l*ri\ate I* . of 
 
 No. 3 company, '.U'l- ^vas sh(3t in the leg, and in 
 many a fence corner along the road, a i)oor tellow 
 might be seen stretched out completely used up. 
 The farm houses along the road had all been de- 
 serted, and nothing in the shape of edibles could 
 be had at Kidgeway, so that the only alternative 
 left was to go on to Port Cv, borne, S(jme twelve or 
 fourteen miles distant. I had now met with sev- 
 eral of my acquaintances, and, after expressions of 
 mutual disgust with the termination of the (la\ 's 
 struggle, we decided to take the railway track, and 
 jogged along together. FJeing in an almost ex- 
 hausted condition our progress was slow. About 
 half way* down we were met bv a locomotive and 
 a bagg;ige car. and when the man in change learned 
 
y 
 
 1 lO 
 
 jy/:t' I\ipcrs. 
 
 » W 
 
 the state of things he determined to take (nir 
 l>arty on board, and backed down to Tort Col 
 ])orne. where we arrived late in tlie afternoon. A 
 large numi)er of tiie volunteers had readied there 
 l)efore us, and hundreds of i)eo{)le had i-olle<'led 
 about the station. Wrapping my overcoat about 
 mvself and rille. I lay down uj)on the front |)1 at 
 form and, amid all ihe tumultuous excitement, fell 
 aslee]). A couj)le of hours after I was awakened 
 b\ one of my comrades, wlio had discovered a 
 hotel where refreshments could he procurd. i,ater 
 in the eveninu all the comi.anies re-furuKd. and the 
 iVdi was once more in sliape. The school house 
 at I'orl C'olborne was gi\en up as a barra< ks, and 
 the 13th immedialel} took ].osscssion. 
 
 NO. II. 
 
 M( tKNiNi, A! TKk nil-: rh.ii I . 
 
 Long belore daylight on Sundav morning (June 
 ^:;rd). the 13th hustled out of ilie scIiooI-Ikui^l at 
 Port Colborne. and mardied -ileiuK to a pc^sition 
 alon^.-ide t'f the canal, in the he^irt i f the town. 
 
 Major S . (now Lieutenant-Colonel) wa> in 
 
 command. .\t a most '.onvenient phice, iKar 
 the Caistom House, the battalion haltt.d. and 
 awaited further orders. During the early part of 
 the niuht. it is almost needless to sa\, a biu effort 
 
"-X' 
 
 Uiifi 
 
 !j!'7('<7r 
 
 I I 
 
 (Hir 
 Jul 
 A 
 
 'ted 
 
 hnut 
 
 Mat 
 III! 
 ned 
 
 was made In c\cr\oiic to obtain as nuich as pos- 
 sil;le of the much-needed rest and sleep, without 
 .vliic li the men liad been for the past forty-eight 
 hours, and which could be had now only under the 
 sharjiest difficulties. 
 
 Owing to the desperate state of affairs along the 
 
 t 
 
 d the al: 
 
 ith 
 
 img rumors constant 
 ing in concerning the hordes of l-enians acro.ss the 
 lines, together with the uncertainty of information 
 generally, it was imperatively essential that every 
 man should be held in readiness to move at a mo- 
 ment's n(3t'ce. Conse(|uently. the most stringent 
 orders had to be issued when the Battalion turned 
 into (juarters for the r.ight. Xo article of clothing 
 could be I'emoved : shoes must remain on our feet 
 and shakos on oin- heads : belts, wiili ba\onet at- 
 tached, and cross-belts with pou' ii full of ammuni- 
 tion, musi all remain on the person, and none of 
 the a( couirements were allowed to be imfistened 
 in anv way whatever : and, last of all, the ride. 
 Iving by our side, must never, for a single inst;nn, 
 be out of its (owner's hands. All this, though ter- 
 ribly uncomfortable, was of the utmost imi)ortance. 
 for. in case of an ;darm, which might occur at any 
 moment during the night the men would thus be 
 read) to turn out insLnuly. Were it otherwise, 
 niany [trecious moments might l)e lost by hiiving 
 '"ome of the three huiidred men fumbling about in 
 
IF 
 
 liS 
 
 Prize Papt'ts. 
 
 ; I 
 
 the dark in search ot arms or apparel. lired, 
 hungry, worn-out. the ]>oor fellows grumbled not, 
 but gladly stretched rliemselves upon the bare 
 floor, and. all in harness, courted that sweet re 
 storer, balmy sleep, which, without much wooing^ 
 S(Jon came and spread her magic spell o'er the 
 scene. .Shortly after midnight the sleepers were 
 aroused b\ the dread alarm, and. in about as 
 much time as it take:> to write this sentence, the 
 men were up and out. armed and equipped, and 
 were stepi)ing into their places in their respective 
 comj>anies. 
 
 Patiently tne battalion stood in the damp chill) 
 air. awaiting tlic re< eipt of the expected orders 
 from the otticer in command of the forces. (!oI. 
 Peacock. How slowly the time passed : how long 
 each moment .seemed < an be known only b)' those 
 who stood there, in the darkness, on that dreary, 
 dismal spot. J'he wearv hours wore on. however, 
 and in due time ra\> of ros\ sunligiu began to 
 appear in the ea>t. 
 
 The wildest excitement ]trevailed everywhere. 
 ( rowds of pjople were nijving about in every di- 
 rection : it seemed as though the p()|)ulation of 
 tne whole distrit t iiad centered in Port Colborne 
 and were discussing th_* probability of their homes 
 being destroyed and tiie town burnt by the enem\ . 
 
Rid^eiiuiy. 
 
 .19 
 
 ( )i the nian\ itports whith had come from tlie 
 front, that which seemed to gain ihe most cre- 
 dence was to the effect that the Fenians had been 
 largelv reinforced during the night, and were then 
 l^reparing to immediately advance on Port CoJ 
 borne, which i)lace was in many respects an im- 
 portant mibtary i)oint. 
 
 Kverybody, the volunteers included, fully be 
 iieved that a big battle must take jjlace inside of a 
 few hours. It was generally understood that Col. 
 l'eac(jck. with his own regi\nent. the 16th. a wing 
 of sbme other regiment of regulars, a battery of 
 Roval Artillerw a few trooi)s of <:avalrv. and two 
 or three volunteer battalions of infantry, including 
 the 19th of Lincoln, was moxing into position tor 
 attack : and that the (Queens ( )wn and the 13th, 
 a^ well as the two rifle companies from Haldimand 
 - all then lying at Fort Colborne would instantly 
 proceed to join him. It is but justice to say. that 
 was i^recisel}' what was desired b\- e\ery one who 
 had taken part in the engagement of the da\ be 
 fore. Smarting under the (supposetl) humiliatii>n 
 of the termination of the previous day's strug- 
 gle, the result of blundering over which they had 
 no control, every man was glad of the immediate 
 (jl)portuniLy to tr) i'. again, .\nother chance was 
 wanted, and if the two l)attalions and the two rirle 
 (ompanies would be ordered into the thickest of 
 
 \ \ 
 
f .?c 
 
 Prize PdpiTS. 
 
 ! fe> 
 
 i I 
 
 the li^^ln or (-(.liihl have- it all U) thcnisches. they 
 ■.v,)ul(l like it ; hiin^lretl times more. Xot tliat the; 
 riL!htiiV4 could be an\ braver than it had been at 
 Ridgeway, but l^eeause of a feeling bordering on 
 les])eratii»n ; a determination to < arr\- it through 
 to tlie ii.nd in spite ol" e\'er}thing. That was the 
 "ire that kindled itself in every heart and expressed 
 itself in ever)' face. 
 
 I'he men were starving. The towns-people, 
 who lived close b\', were doiui; what they tjuld in 
 the way ot providing food h.r the hungry, but 
 their limited facilities and the shortness of the 
 !"iotice. prevetUed their best endeavors \\un\ ac- 
 conn)lishing very much in this resi)e<t. There be- 
 gan to \)j grave aj)prehensions that the battalion 
 might have to leave before man\ of the men had 
 received a moutht'ul to eat. .Xbout sunrise, how- 
 ever, all misgixings were put to flight by the ar- 
 rival of a number of Hamiltonians, loaded with 
 provisions for the men. Loaves of bn.'ad anel 
 roasts of beef were s[)read out upon the ground, 
 and were ijuickiy divided ajul de\.)ured. Manx a 
 hungr\ fellow, myself among the number, couid 
 scarcely refrain fVoni dropping a tear in gratitude 
 as we munched our beef, and reflected on the 
 thoughtfulness of the people at home. Several 
 ladies had also arrived from Hamilton, and were 
 :'X'ndering valuable assistance in |)ro\iding for the 
 
 4 
 
 u_ 
 
Ridgeway. 
 
 121 
 
 :s. I hey 
 :hat tlic 
 )ecn at 
 rini; OP. 
 through 
 vas liic 
 pivsscd 
 
 -people. 
 
 juM in 
 rv. hui 
 
 of the 
 rum a«- 
 horc bc- 
 )allali()n 
 len IkhI 
 ic. how- 
 
 thc ar- 
 j(l witli 
 ■ail aiul 
 ground, 
 Manx a 
 r, couid 
 .rautiide 
 
 on tlic 
 
 Several 
 nd were 
 
 for the 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 half-famished men. I was a bit of a boy then, but 
 the incidents ot kindness of which I was a silent 
 observer, on that eventful morning, will long re- 
 main fresh in my memory. 
 
 Early in the forenoon the long-expected des- 
 patches were received b> the officer in command, 
 and the result was, at first, a bitter disappointment 
 to all. There would be no battle ; there could be 
 none, for the simple reason that there was no 
 enemy to fight against. It seems the Fenians had 
 had enough of it the day before, and, all that was 
 left of them " let no grass grow under then' feet " 
 until they were back from whence they came. 
 They had landed upon Canadian soil with the in- 
 tention of making a glorious conquest, and, at the 
 same time, liberating down-trodden Ireland. But 
 handled too roughly at Ridgeway *' a change came 
 o'er the spirit of their dream," and in less than 
 forty-eight hours after their arrival they had been 
 put to flight and were re-crossing the Niagara river 
 in boats and scows, at every available place, under 
 cover of the nisj;ht. 
 
 Expecting that the enemy would, of course, con- 
 centrate at some other point along the frontier, and 
 make further raids upon our borders, our troops 
 had to be kept in readiness for any emergency. 
 The Queen's Own and the two rifle companie? 
 were, soon after, ordered to some post in the west, 
 
 H 
 
 i 
 
'% 
 
 ;■ 
 
 ( ; 
 1 ' 
 
 f 
 
 i : 
 
 • 
 
 !• ' 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 -i ' 
 
 
 f 
 
 [ 
 
 
 
 t' .. 
 
 
 ■; 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 I 
 
 
 122 
 
 Fn'ze Papers. 
 
 and the 13th being ordered to remain at Port Col- 
 borne to guard the mouth of the canal, the rail- 
 way bridge, etc., immediately returned to barracks. 
 The school-house, which had been given up for our 
 accommodation, was a good-sized brick building, 
 two stories high, and consisted of a single large 
 room on each flat. 
 
 The left wing, comprising companies Nos. 4, 5 
 and 6, occupied the ground floor, and the right 
 wing, companies i, 2 and 3, went aloft. 
 
 The generalship displayed in selecting that 
 school-house for a barracks is worth\- of commen- 
 dation. No place could liave been procured 
 which would have answered the purpose half so 
 well. The desks and benches all about were 
 splendid substitutes tor tables and chairs, and the 
 children's copying books, ink and pens did nicel) 
 in the way of stationery ; besides, if a volunteer felt 
 disposed to do a little in the way of studying, the 
 necessary school books were all at hand. 
 
 Half a dozen guards, of different strengths. 
 were organized and posted at various places about 
 the town, the ground about the barracks was put 
 into shape, and a temporary hospital was fitted up 
 down town, into which were placed some of the 
 sick and wounded. 
 
 The town hall at St. Catharines had been con- 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 -s 
 
 111 
 
'^ 
 
 Ridgeway. 
 
 123 
 
 (ort Col- 
 the rail- 
 barracks, 
 for our 
 )uilding, 
 tie large 
 
 4, 5 
 he right 
 
 ng that 
 om men- 
 procured 
 half so 
 •ut were 
 and the 
 d nicely 
 iteer felt 
 ing, the 
 
 'englhs, 
 5 about 
 'as put 
 ted up 
 of the 
 
 ^n con- 
 
 % 
 
 verted into a general hos})ital, to which all the 
 more serious cases were to be sent from all quar- 
 ters. 
 
 About noon, while working at some tatigue duty, 
 1 was called up, and much to my delight, furnished 
 with the necessary pass and ordered to escort some 
 patients to vSt. Catharines, and then to proceed on 
 to Hamilton with four invalids who had been re- 
 ported unfit for duty. On our arrival at St. Catha- 
 rines we found the town hall filled with comfortable 
 beds and stretchers and supplied with all the usual 
 liospital accessories, A number of the Queen's 
 Own and of the 1 3th Battalion, as well as of other 
 corps, were already laid up there, and were all re- 
 ceiving the most tender and best of treatment from 
 the surgeons and ladies of that town, who had 
 volunteered to act as nurses. Proceeding on, we 
 arrived at Hamilton about 7 p. m, that (Sunday) 
 evening. An immense crowd of citizens had as- 
 sembled about the station and were awaiting the 
 receipt of reliable news from the front. The 
 wildest rumors — all sorts of exaggerated reports — 
 had been hourl)' received in Hamilton, and in con- 
 sequence, the excitement for the last two days 
 had been beyond description. Procuring a cab I 
 distributed my men at their respective homes with 
 as little delay as possible. Our uniforms were the 
 signal ; the news of the arrival of some of the par- 
 
I Jl1 
 
 ■^ 
 
 124 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 ticipants in the fight sjiread through the city like 
 wild-fire. We were besieged on every side, at 
 every turn, by anxious enquirers about the boys at 
 the front. The first train next morning carried me 
 back to St. Catharines, and having an hour or two 
 to wait for a train on the Wclland Railway, I con- 
 cluded to spend the tniie among sick acquaint- 
 ances in the hospital. Hardened though I was 
 by the rough experience of late, my eyes moisten- 
 ed in spite of me. The lady nurses not only 
 brightened the place with their presence, but were 
 doing all in their power to comfort and relieve the 
 sufferers. Tenderly those poor fellows were nursed 
 by fair hands, and although the patients were 
 strangers, what matter that ? They were sufferers, 
 and woman's nature was appealed to. Deeply im- 
 pressed by their noble conduct, I have ever since 
 retained a warm appreciation of the people of that 
 town. The regular arrangements on the Welland 
 Road had, of course, been all upset ; but, through 
 the kindness of Brigade-Major V , of this dis- 
 trict, whom 1 accidentally met at the station, 1 was 
 soon after provided with a place in a freight car, 
 and was thus enabled to report myself back in bar- 
 racks that evening. As might be expected, I was 
 the bearer of many bits of good news and good 
 things for a number of the boys from their friends 
 at liome. 
 
 '^ 
 
 I 
 
Jiidgi'icay. 
 
 125 
 
 'y like 
 [Jde, at 
 joys at 
 ied me 
 [or two 
 (l con- 
 uaint- 
 I was 
 [oisten- 
 only 
 
 |t were 
 ve the 
 
 nursed 
 were 
 
 iferers, 
 
 5!y im- 
 
 ' since 
 
 Jf that 
 
 elJand 
 
 rough 
 
 s dis- 
 
 I was 
 
 t car, 
 
 1 bar- 
 was 
 
 i:ood 
 
 snds 
 
 I 
 
 
 The Battalion remained at Port Colborne for 
 about three weeks, and the experience of the first 
 few days was anything but enjoyable. The Com- 
 missariat Department of the Active MiHtia was 
 very different then to what it is now. It was in a 
 state of oblivion in those days, but has been worked 
 up to a degree of perfection since. The men were 
 entirely destitute of everything except arms and 
 ammunition. They were without even tin plates 
 to eat off of, or tin cups to drink out of, and I think 
 it can be stated, without fear of contradiction, that 
 the only knife and fork in the whole barracks was 
 
 in the possession of Quartermaster-Sergeant S . 
 
 And, come to think of it, it was just as well that 
 the rations were not very varied at first, and con- 
 sisted chiefly of solids (bread and pork) — some- 
 thing that could be got hold of without much for- 
 malitv. 
 
 The same stringent orders, prohibiting the re- 
 moval of any clothing or accoutrements at night, 
 had to be enforced every day. Work was hard : 
 about a third of the Battalion were constantly out 
 doing guard duty about the to^\'n, and the remain- 
 der, after drilling all day at headquarters, must fur- 
 nish men for picquet duty at night. Of all the 
 guards, perhaps the pleasantest, and the most 
 sought after, .,as that at the piers, with the guard- 
 room in front of the Canal Superintendent's house ; 
 
126 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 n 
 
 and, without doubt, the most melancholy of all 
 was that placed over the car-load of hardtack near 
 the elevator. Stonebridge, a small place, a mile or 
 two down the canai, was also a popular resort for 
 the men when off duty. Aft^r the first week, 
 thanks to the citizens of Hamilton, the rations be- 
 gan to be first-rate, and although the men were 
 working bard they were living well. As the days 
 wore 0:1, hundreds of incidents, humorous and 
 otherwise, occurred, which are, no doubt, still fresh 
 in the minds of all who were there, but as years 
 have elapsed since their occurrence, it is hardly 
 worth while to enumerate them. As the weeks 
 rolled round, the Fenian cause gradually fizzled out 
 in the States, and, after having sacrificed several 
 Canadian lives and put our country to an immense 
 expense, the American Government was forced to 
 take such steps as would prevent any further fili- 
 bustering like what had occurred. Some twenty 
 odd days after the fight at Ridgeway, peace had 
 been restored throughout our land, and the troops 
 were then all relieved from further duty. After re- 
 ceiving public marks of respect from the people of 
 Stonebridge and Port Colborne, the 13th bade 
 adieu to the old school house and returned to 
 Hamilton much improved in every respect by the 
 short campaign. Immediately after arrival, the 
 Battalion was entertained at luncheon in the drill 
 
127 
 
 Ridgmvay. 
 
 A the hearts of ihose 
 shed by the ^'*»^"^^;" «„„, by «V>e welcome. 
 Ued ''°^:,rrexpetnceof the ,3th Batul.on 
 
128 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 i^^ 
 
 Paper No. 6. 
 
 NOTES ABOUT KINGSTON. 
 
 7^he " Ups and Downs'' of a Municipality's Career. 
 
 The first European to visit this locality was M. 
 De Courcelles, who, some two centuries ago, held 
 the proud position of Governor of Canada. In 
 1672, it is said, this bold representative of France 
 came up from Montreal and met his Indian allies 
 in a grand council of negotiations among the iden- 
 tical limestones upon which the beautiful city of 
 Kingston now stands. It is not surprising to a 
 stranger to learn thai M. De Courcelles was 
 deeply impressed by the remarkable beauty of the 
 scene which, on every hand, met his gaze. Stand- 
 ing upon the low shore with his back towards the 
 north, he gazed out upon a magnificent bay which 
 is capable of harboring the largest ships which can 
 navigate the inland waters. Oft" to his left rose the 
 gentle elevation known as Point Frederick. Just 
 beyond this Point is the beginning of the world- 
 renowned Thousand Islands m the mighty river 
 up which he had just ascended ; while away off to 
 his right stretched the blue waters of a great lake, 
 
 l\^ 
 
Notes about Kin}^>toii. 
 
 [29 
 
 eer. 
 
 LU 
 
 the existence of which he perhaps then learned tor 
 the first time. 
 
 Struck with the strategical importance of the 
 place, the crafty Clovernor immediately gained per- 
 mission from the Indians to erect a wooden fort 
 and trading post. 
 
 Later on came those undarnted pioneers of 
 western civilization, Count de Frontenac, La Salle 
 and Father Hennepin, each of whom found it ad- 
 vantageous to make this place their headciuarters. 
 Frontenac completed the fort, gave his name to the 
 place and set manfully to work towards develop- 
 ing the country. His successor, La Salle, in due 
 time, rebuilt and enlarged this fort, after which, ac- 
 companied by his friend Hennepin, he traversed 
 Lake Ontario, gazed upon the great Falls, explored 
 Lake Erie, and, continuing on, finally discovered 
 that '' Father of Waters " the Mississippi. 
 
 And this was two hundred years ago. Savage 
 tribes were then owners of the soil and roamed at 
 will over their boundless domains. Long before 
 even Do Couroelles had set foot upon its shore, 
 this very spot had been selected by the fierce old 
 warriors as a chief place of rendezvous. And the 
 ground now covered by those handsome blocks 
 of warehouses, those delightful residences, with their 
 beaut iful gardens, was formerly the sight of an In- 
 
130 
 
 Pnze Papets, 
 
 dian village. Those very streets, over which wealth 
 and fashion now serenely expand themselves, 
 in all probability, follow the course of the 
 old trails which lead around among the 
 wigwams of the dusky aboriginies. And, just 
 as the happy and comented citizen now 
 reclines in an easy chair outside his front door 
 while he reads the news, so did the stern and silent 
 warriors of old stretch themselves upon the same 
 green sward and dream of the happy hunting ground, 
 while the squaws, propping their papooses up against 
 the trecis, went off amongst their neighbors to gos- 
 sip about — who can tell what ? But De Cour- 
 celles *' came and saw, and conquered." 
 
 No prisons, or asylums, or fortifications met his 
 gaze \ no, no. 
 
 The savages knew nothing of such adjuncts of 
 civilization. It is well that thev did not, for it be- 
 gins to dawn upon me that, if they had undertaken 
 to build a lunatic asylum which wouM have been 
 anything like adequate to their wants, they would 
 have had to have a building large enough to hold 
 every mother's son and daughter of all the tribes, 
 chiefs included. Therefore, to speak more cor- 
 rectly, it would, perhaps, be better to say that De 
 Courcelles found the whole country one vast luna- 
 tic asylum. 
 
 i 
 
Notes about Kingston. 
 
 131 
 
 wealth 
 selves, 
 of the 
 g the 
 just 
 now 
 t door 
 silent 
 i same 
 round, 
 against 
 to gos- 
 Cour- 
 
 nct his 
 
 lets of 
 
 it be- 
 rtaken 
 
 been 
 would 
 
 hold 
 ribes, 
 
 cor- 
 t De 
 luna- 
 
 From 1672 to 1784, this place continued to be 
 known as Fort Frontenac. But, at the close of the 
 American revolutionary war, a large number of 
 United Empire Loyalists took up their abode in 
 the neighborhood, and, in hoi^or of His Majesty 
 George III., the name was changed to Kingston. 
 
 Throughout the two hundred years of its exist- 
 ence, Kingston may be said to have had a wonder- 
 fully " up and down " career. 
 
 In consequence of its advantageous and com- 
 manding position, the British Government saw 
 fit, from time to time, to expend vast sums of 
 money in building fortifications and otherwise 
 strengthening the place. These military works 
 took years to construct, and when completed, 
 made Kingston well nigh impregnable. 
 
 In fortificational strength, it may be said it is 
 even now second only to Quebec. 
 
 Occasionally, however, the Home Government 
 would " take a notion " as it were, and suddenly 
 witndraw its patronage, remove all the troops, etc., 
 and then the place would become like what Gcd- 
 smith describes as the " deserted village.*' 
 
 During these times of trial, the old place beheld 
 the birth and rise of the Canadian Government, 
 and new rays of hope burst through the clouds 
 
132 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 \ \ 
 
 \ i 
 
 \ I 
 
 which had settled over its horizon. But this young 
 sprig, as if anxious to tollow the example of its 
 illustrious parent, actually became more vacillating 
 in its conduct towards this ancient municipality. 
 For years and years it kept throwing out hints cis 
 to what it intended to do, and finally went so far 
 in 1 84 1 as to make Kingston the capital of the 
 United Provinces of Upper and Lower Canada. 
 The first session of the United Legislature, under 
 Lord Sydenham, was held here, and once more 
 everything looked lovely. The honor was of short 
 duration however, for in 1845 the seat of Govern- 
 ment was removed to Montreal. There was then 
 much wailing and gnashing of teeth, and the hopes 
 of the people again went away down below zero. 
 
 Then again, as if repenting of its cruelty, the 
 Government would launch out handsome appro- 
 priations for the erection of various public institu- 
 tions, and the result is that there has been more 
 public money spent in and about Kingston than 
 any other city in the Dominion, Quebec excepted. 
 
 After all the trying ordeals which the city 
 has gone through, it is pleasing to ubserve that the 
 old place is to-day basking in the sunshine of a 
 natural pros[)erity. 
 
 There are numerous points of interest about <he 
 city, all of which are well worth a visa. Am .)">7 
 
Notes ahoi't Kingston. 
 
 133 
 
 is young 
 >Ie of its 
 Lcillating 
 'icipality. 
 hints ds 
 it so far 
 I of the 
 Canada, 
 e, under 
 -e more 
 of short 
 Govern- 
 'as then 
 le ho])es 
 zero. 
 
 ■Ity, the 
 
 appro- 
 
 institu- 
 !i more 
 n than 
 cepted. 
 
 ie city 
 lat the 
 e of a 
 
 It <he 
 
 V 
 
 these may be mentioned Fort Henry, Fort Freder- 
 ick, Military College, Tete de Pont Barracks 
 (which occupy the sight of old Fort Frontenac), 
 the Penitentiary, Rockwood Asylum, etc. 
 
 A number of pleasant drives lead off in various 
 directions, and several neat little steamers are con- 
 stantly flitting about the bay, and make frequent 
 trips tO points among the Thousand Islands. 
 Fishing for bass is a favorite pastime, and the har- 
 bor being so easy of access, much boating is in 
 dulged in. Occasionally a band plays on one of 
 the wharves, and on some evenings ir is not un- 
 usual to see at least a hundred little boats gliding 
 about, as the music floats away on the summer air. 
 And a westerner, like myself, cannot help remark- 
 ing the graceful manner in which numbers of the 
 fair sex manoiuvre little crafts over the calm sur- 
 face of the water. 
 
 Perhaps a word or two descriptive of some of 
 'be places of interest which I have visited, during 
 my short sojourn here, might not be uninteresting 
 on a future oc.casio'-;, but I am off now to join a 
 fishing excursion down the river. If we have good 
 luck and catch many, will telegraph. Meantime, 
 adieu. 
 
 [A Mr. Fogey e, who happened to be present at 
 the reading of this paper, mentioned that he re- 
 
i i 
 
 ii- 
 
 I I 
 
 134 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 membered Lord Sydenham very well. The first 
 meeting of the United Parliament of the two 
 Provinces, spoken of, was, indeed, an important 
 epoch in the history of Kingston. He was a resi- 
 dent of Kingston at the time. The city was then 
 the m( J ' iiportant place in Western Canada. 
 That fact > s acknowledged everywhere, in those 
 early times, but, he believed its importance is now- 
 disputed by all except the denizens of the city it- 
 self. He also lomembered Lord Sydenham's two 
 successors, Lord Durham and Sir Charles Bagot, 
 one of whom, he regretted to say. was killed by a 
 fall from a hoise. Mr. Fogeye then enumerated 
 the various impo-rtant bills which had been passed 
 under the administration of Lord Sydenham, and 
 gave much vakialDle information which the writer 
 of the ])aper liad omitted. 
 
 Another gentleman in the audience was aston- 
 ished to find no mention of the fact that '' Kingston 
 had been the cradle of Canadian statesmen," and 
 another could not understand how it was possible 
 for any one to write anything about that city with- 
 out making some reference to the Rideau C'anal 
 jobbery. But as this latter gentleman was always 
 dabbling in politics, very little attention was paid 
 to his remarks ; indeed, he was almost looked upon 
 as an intruder. Young Mr. Guffersby, who had 
 been stationed there, for a year or two, while con- 
 
 ^V,- 
 
II. The first 
 of the two 
 in important 
 e was a resi- 
 st)- was then 
 rn Canada. 
 ?re, in those 
 mce is now 
 f the city it- 
 n ham's two 
 ties Bagot, 
 killed by a 
 enumerated 
 >cen passed 
 nhani, and 
 the writer 
 
 Notes about Kingston. 
 
 135 
 
 nected with the "Bank of the World," related 
 many little episodes, of a social nature, which v/ere 
 very amusing. He also gave an account of his ex- 
 cursion up the Bay of Quinte, described the 
 old villages of " Bath " and " Picton," and said a 
 word or two about Belleville.] 
 
 was astun- 
 ' Kingston 
 )ien," and 
 s possible 
 city with- 
 -au Canal 
 as ahvays 
 was jjaid 
 ked upon 
 who iiad 
 hile con- 
 
136 
 
 Prize Papers, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Paper No. 7. 
 
 \ I 
 
 r I 
 
 rHE THOUSAND ISLANDS. 
 
 Alexandria Bay — Wells Island Camp Ground — A De- 
 lightful 'J 'rip. 
 
 '' The Thousand Islands ! " 
 
 I'hese words awaken a flood of beaut ul imagery 
 in the mind, for a kind of halo of ron. antic love- 
 liness i,eems to hover about them. Their sound 
 touches an ideal chord, and the fancy immediately 
 teems with visions of innumerable lovely, wild, 
 green, barren, grand picturesque islands, which 
 evolve and disappear before the mental eye, like 
 the wavering rays of the Aurora-borealis. 
 
 \Vho can forget the day, no matter how distant, 
 when they stood upon the deck of the steamer, 
 and, gazing out upon the enchanting scene, 
 realized that they were among the Thousand 
 Islands ? The experience is seldom erased from the 
 memory, for it is usually associated with all that is 
 beautiful — summer, pleasure, friends, happiness — 
 aye, and perhaps love — and the fancy clings to the 
 recollection like dew to a freshly blown rose. It 
 really seems as though nature exercised her most 
 
 il.2~^ 
 
 \ 
 
The Thousand Islands. 
 
 137 
 
 U. 
 
 NDS. 
 Ground — A Dt 
 
 eaut ul imagery 
 ron. antic love- 
 . Their sound 
 icy immediately 
 le lovely, wild, 
 islands, which 
 lental eye, like 
 realis. 
 
 ter how distant, 
 of the steamer, 
 hanting scene, 
 the Thousand 
 erased from the 
 1 with all that is 
 ds, happiness — 
 icy clings to the 
 blown rose. It 
 rcised her most 
 
 I 
 
 artistic genius in the construction and arrange- 
 ment of this constellation of islands. She 
 seems to have intended that the whole should ap- 
 pear to the best advantage, and all must acknow- 
 ledge the eminent success of the undertaking. 
 The grand old St. Lawrence seems proud of them, 
 and, like the Roman mother of old with her 
 babes, holds them up and says grandly, " These 
 are my jewels." For upwards of fifty miles the 
 view from the steamer is grand, delightful, inspir- 
 ing, and as the last of the islands fade in the dis- 
 tance, the eyes turn longingly back towards them, 
 regretful that the scene is passed. One may go 
 down the American channel, on the mail boat, any 
 number of times, but will always feel that the 
 swiftly fleeting passage is not sufficient. 
 
 The eyes gaze in wonder and admiration upon 
 the unrivalled panorama which upholds itself on 
 either hand, but the mind can thus, at best, carry 
 away only glimpses of a grandeur in which the soul 
 would delight to revel. 
 
 Therefore, to obtain something like an adequate 
 and satisfying conception of the wondrous beauty 
 of the Island region, one must disembark from the 
 regular steamer and go on board one of the numer- 
 ous little steamers which make frequent trips down 
 
 among the islands from Kingston. Then, round- 
 I 
 
i3« 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 ing on the right of Point Frederick, you get a fine 
 view of Fort Frederick, the new Military College, 
 and on the summit of the elevation, frown the 
 ramparts of the advance battery, and of Fort 
 Henry. The boat passes to the left of " Cedar " 
 Island, ui)on which is erected one of those huge 
 f^tone towers, which stand like great solitary sen- 
 tinels, guarding the entrance to the Kingston har 
 bor, and continues on down the Canadian channel 
 to the (|uaint little old town of (iananocjue, eighteen 
 miles below. 
 
 The highland of the main shore, all along on the 
 left, and the islands along on the right, make up a 
 most charming scene. Near Ganano([ue, islands 
 of all sizes are scattered around in wonderful pro- 
 fusion. Nearly all of the islands, above and be- 
 low Gananociue, as well as many of the lo\eIy little 
 bays, inlets and coves, which their irregular shapes 
 form, are endowed with amusing and grotestjue 
 names, such as " Fiddler's Elbow," " Crow's 
 Foot," etc. Some of the islands are large, and 
 many of them are covered with a wild and dense 
 shrubber\- of spruce, which gives them a curious 
 but i)leasing effect. Others are simjily large piles 
 of barren granite, of a coarse reddish hue. In 
 some places, the scene is so bleak, silent and lonely, 
 the whole asj)ect is so sombre and melancholy, 
 the great piles of rock so barren and desolate, 
 
 — — — , \ 
 
7he Thousand hlands. 
 
 139 
 
 you get a fine 
 itary College, 
 )n, frown the 
 and of Fort 
 t of " Cedar " 
 )f those huge 
 : solitary sen- 
 Ivingston har 
 adian channel 
 0(iue, eighteen 
 
 II along on the 
 ht, make uj^ a 
 locjue, islands 
 onderful i)ro- 
 bove and be- 
 le loN'ely little 
 egular shapes 
 nd grotes(]ue 
 iv," "Crow's 
 e large, and 
 d and dense 
 em a curious 
 ly large piles 
 ish hue. In 
 nt and lonely, 
 melancholy, 
 md desolate, 
 
 that one feels a sense of mournfulness creeping 
 over them. I'hen, suddenly, the scene changes 
 beautiful views of verdure-clad islands and charm- 
 ingly se(iuestered nooks spread out before the gaze. 
 Enthusiasm becomes again awakened, and the 
 heart becomes light and joyous. The mind is no 
 longer oppressed with a feeling of boundless, soli- 
 tary desolation, but is gradually filled with admira 
 tion by the irresistible beauty of the scenery which 
 smilingly invites one to stop and revel among fan- 
 tf.icic nature. 
 
 Thirty-five miles below Kingston, the boat winds 
 around among the islands and enters American 
 water at 
 
 ALKXANDRIA 15AV. 
 
 This lovely bay, with its surroundings, is ac- 
 knowledged to be the most magnificent portion of 
 the upper St. Lawrence, and is fast becoming 
 famous as an inland summer resort. The bay 
 l)roper is several miles in circumference and is 
 girdled about by a chain of exquisite islands, many 
 of which are dotted with fantastic little structures, 
 the summer liomes of families, chiefly from the 
 Eastern States. Overlooking the bay is the 
 " Thousand Island House," an immense structure 
 — and near it is another hotel of almost equal pro- 
 portions. l*'rom the summit of either ot those 
 
1%5^. 
 
 il 
 
 -S.1 
 
 ^-1 
 
 U 
 
 140 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 colossal buildings can be had a bird's eye view of 
 perhaps, the grandest river scenery in America. 
 
 The islands thereabout are devoid of that rug- 
 gedness which is observable elsewhere, and they 
 seem to rise softly up out of the water, in which 
 they appear to sit as easily and as gracefully as 
 carelessly arranged flowers in a lady's hair. Cruis- 
 ing leisurely in a little boat among those fantasti- 
 cally shaped islands, one is constantly being al- 
 lured from place to place by the enchanting views 
 which are ever presenting themselves to the as- 
 tonished gaze. 
 
 To be out among these islands in the early 
 morning, when the first rays of the sun steal across 
 the water, as it were, to embrace and caress them ; 
 to watch the shadows creep about tbem in the 
 evening as the sunlight bids them adieu, and to 
 behold them by moonlight, when they appear to 
 hang like shadowy phantoms along the horizon 
 while the silvery light shimmers and glimmers on 
 the rippling water, constitute a scene of beauty 
 which must linger in the memory forever. 
 
 Leaving Alexandria Bay and proceeding u]) the 
 American channel for a few miles, the boat stops 
 at the now celebrated 
 
 wells' island camp grounds. 
 This delightfully situated island is some twenty 
 
The Thousand Islands. 
 
 141 
 
 "ye view of 
 America. 
 
 ''f that rug- 
 ", and they 
 er, in which 
 racefully as 
 air. Cruis- 
 :>se I'antasti- 
 y being al- 
 nting views 
 to the as- 
 
 I the early 
 steal across 
 ress them ; 
 em in the 
 eu, and to 
 
 appear to 
 he horizon 
 mmers on 
 
 of beauty 
 
 ing u)) the 
 boat stops 
 
 •^■^ 
 
 ne twenty 
 
 miles in circumtcrence, and a portion of it is well 
 adapted for camp meeting purposes. The ground 
 is laid out in avenues, is kept remarkably neat and 
 clean, and the whole place is tastefully illuminated 
 at night. Hundreds of tents and cottages — some 
 of which are very handsome — are erected about 
 the grounds, and families reside here during the 
 whoie of the summer season. The place is owned 
 and conducted by the *' Thousand Island Camp 
 Meeting Association." It is, properly speaking, a 
 religious summer resort. It is non-seclarian, al- 
 though, perhaps, the Methodist element predomi- 
 nates. Many of the most eloquent ministers of 
 both the United States and Canada, as well as 
 leading temperance men and other orators occupy 
 the platform of the immense pavilion from time to 
 time, and thousands of visitors are attracted from 
 all parts. As many as half a dozen steamboats 
 have been counted at one time at the wharf. 
 
 Simplicity and economy seem to be the leading 
 features of this delightful resort, and in this respect 
 it may be said to be the opposite to Alexandria Bay. 
 The one may be described as a temple of fashion, 
 where tiie devotees worship at the shrine of plea- 
 sure ; the other is a temple of pleasure where they 
 worship at the altar of God. 
 
 " So near and yet so far." 
 
 tiach place is a little world within itself Each has 
 
 % 
 
t ' i 
 
 I I 
 
 142 
 
 Prize J\ipers. 
 
 Its own peculiar characteristics. The ambition of 
 one is not the ambition of the other, and yet both 
 places can enumerate their admirers by thousands. 
 
 The grand old St. Lawrence will, no doubt, con- 
 tinue to flow between them, however, and the only 
 warfare that is likely to exist will be one great 
 struggle for financial supremacy. Simplicity seems 
 to have the best of it in the meantime, however. 
 
 One of the most interesting places on the camp 
 ground is the large tent which contains Prof. Van 
 I^nnop's Biblical Museum. The Professor is a 
 Biblical scholar ; the articles exhibited are such as 
 are mentioned in the scriptures, and were collected 
 by himself in the Holy Land. Delighted with the 
 camp and impressed with a belief that its excellent 
 moral influence must have a beneficial eftect upon 
 all who sojourn within its bounds, I have almost 
 resolved to invite myself down, for a week or two, 
 next summer. 
 
 After leaving Wells' Island, a pleasant sail of 
 three hours, up the river, lands us again at the 
 " Old Limestone City." And this suggests the 
 idea that the denizens of Kingston ought to pass a 
 " Resolution of thanks '' to Messrs. de Courcelles, 
 de Frontenac, La Salle, and Hennepin, for the 
 special blessing of having located their city in such 
 clo.se proximity to the "'i'housan slands." 
 
pnibition of 
 id yet both 
 thousands. 
 
 |doiibt, con- 
 'd the only 
 one great 
 icity seems 
 however. 
 
 the camp 
 ^rof. Van 
 lessor is a 
 re such as 
 s collected 
 d with the 
 : excellent 
 "Tlect upon 
 ve almost 
 'k or two, 
 
 It sail of 
 Lin at the 
 ?ests the 
 to pass a 
 urcelles, 
 
 for the 
 
 in such 
 
 I 
 f 
 
 ^'A'i/ii,'s/o//, Adieu .' — Siutr G rapes T 14^^ 
 
 CHAPTER / X. 
 Paper No. 8. 
 
 *'KIN(;STON, ADIEU !-SOUR (ir<Al'KS.' 
 
 The Fenitentiiu v — Rochvood Asylum — Terrible Realities oj 
 
 Life. 
 
 Silently ; sorrowfully : with feelings almost akin 
 to horror, I reluctantly turn from contemplating 
 the beautiful in nature to meditate over some of 
 the terrible realities of life. I have yet to speak of 
 a couple of Institutions which I purposely post- 
 poned visiting until the last. No matter how much 
 1 tried to forget them, the recollection of their ex- 
 istence haunted me, and the grim spectacle cast a 
 shadow about me like a funeral pall. At last the 
 day arrived. Curiosity captured sentimentality, 
 and, wrestling with a train of thought that was 
 new to me, and brooding over Alexander Pope's 
 reflection, " Whatever is, is right," I braced myself 
 up and slowly wended my way to the Provincial 
 Penitentiary, and Rockwood Asylum. 
 
 The Penitentiary is located on the lake shore, 
 about two miles from the centre of the cit>'. The 
 great dome towering suggestively above the main 
 building, can be seen afar ofif, and I cannot say 
 that it awakens any particularly ple».sant reflections. 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 -: I 
 
 144 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 The whole of the large block of ground is sur- 
 rounded by an immense, quadrangular wall, upon 
 each corner of which is perched z. strong tower. 
 These towers have numerous embrasures, fi .m 
 which the guards have an uninterrupted range of 
 both the interior and exterior. 
 
 The first glimpse of this terrible looking wall 
 appals the heart, and one feels a shudder creep- 
 ing over him, but the feeling is somewhat allayed, 
 upon nearer approach, by the beautiful architectural 
 effect of the principal entrance. The lofty Tuscan 
 columns which support the entablature are of hand- 
 some proportions, and the whole has a strikingly 
 pleasing effect. 
 
 Gaining admittance through the huge iron doors, 
 I proceed over a nicely gravelled walk with taste- 
 fully arranged flower plots on either side, down a 
 slight incline which leads to the entrance to the 
 main building, in w^hich is the office of the Warden. 
 From here I am conducted through the long corri- 
 dors and into the various wards and departments. 
 The prison for females is in a separate portion of 
 the bi ilding and has its own dining room — with 
 its arriy of orthodox tin cups — its own kitchen and 
 its own laundry. In an other part are ranged the 
 long lines of little cells, in which these unhappy 
 women are locked up at night, and still farther on 
 
 i>-^ 
 
 vK 
 
 > 
 
■ound is sur- 
 ^ H'alJ, upon 
 trong tower, 
 sures, f:.m 
 ed range of 
 
 )oking wall 
 dder creep- 
 fiat allayed, 
 rchitectural 
 >fty Tuscan 
 "eofhand- 
 i strikingly 
 
 iron doors, 
 «'ith taste- 
 <^) down a 
 ice to the 
 - H arden. 
 ong corri- 
 cTtments. 
 'ortion of 
 •m — with 
 Chen and 
 tiged the 
 Jnhappy 
 rther on 
 
 % 
 
 ' 'Kttigstofi, A dieu !- -Sour Grapes, " 145 
 
 is the female workroom. All these apartments are 
 connected by stone passages and iron doors, with 
 bolts and bars. The inmates are all busy at some 
 kind of employment, and many of them turn their 
 faces away as we ]>ass along. 1 )ozens of them are 
 moving silently about, and some of them look back 
 at us with an eagerness, which seems to s?y, " I, 
 too, was once free." 
 
 Old, middle aged, and young. Mothers, sisters, 
 dau.irhters. Imprisoned ! Horrible contemplation. 
 
 That one, over there by the window, as well as a 
 few others, rniist remain in here for the rest of their 
 lives. They can never, never again set foot out- 
 side of those prison walls. If that young woman 
 at the sewing machine, lives for twenty years, she 
 will have purchased the privilege of going back 
 into the accursed world which sent her here. That 
 young girl sitting at the table, with her head bent 
 low down over her sewing, will be free at the ex- 
 piration of ten years, and several ol those at the 
 other end of the room will be at li';erty to wander 
 about the streets again at the end of five years. 
 And so runs the record. All of them were young 
 and innocent once ; perhaps some of them were 
 the light and hope of some happy home, and when 
 they were little prattling things, chasing butterflies 
 amongst the flowers, who could have looked upon 
 
, 
 
 
 r46 
 
 l*rize Papers. 
 
 the!ii »ind foretold the misery to which they were to 
 fall heir ? Why are they here ? Why are they 
 not out in the happy world like other people's 
 daughters ? 
 
 The portion of the prison for men is of much 
 greater proportions. The arrangements and apart- 
 ments are similar, but on a much larger scale. In 
 a wing of the building is a chapel, a school room, 
 and a librar\-. Gangs of convicts, in their prison 
 garb, are engaged everywhere in keeping the whole 
 of the immense place scrupulously neat and clean. 
 
 Close around the main building are located the 
 various workshops in which great gangs are system- 
 atically at work. Their labour is not sweetened 
 by the hope oi reward. They toil on silently, 
 hopelessly, day after day, year after year, and many 
 of them cannot look forward to liberty —cannot 
 expect one single instant of freedom — until they 
 have passed through the valley of the shadow of 
 death. 
 
 Some of them are paying the i)enalty of the 
 blackest of crimes ; crimes which could be com- 
 mitted only by a heart hardened by long years of 
 vice ; yet, others l)ear unmistakable evidence that 
 they are here through the committal of a deed 
 which would have remained undone had it not been 
 for the influence of bad company. 
 
^'Kingsto/i^ Adieu! — Sour Grapes J^ 147 
 
 They do not all look like criminals ; some of them 
 appear careless and indifierent, but this imprison- 
 ment has driven others mad. There is s ^mething 
 about that tall young fellow, who is looking stead- 
 ily at us, which seems to say " I am not guilty." 
 
 The most of them, however, have wicked and 
 vicious hearts, and these ur^fortu nates, uncon- 
 sciously perhaps, boldly flaur t i^Iioir colors at the 
 mast head. 
 
 1 turn away from this prison with a heart all 
 frozen up, and, as the iron doors creak on their 
 hinges behind me, I cannot refrain from wonder- 
 ing if even an " exaggerated appr-'riation of the 
 influence of the religiouc principle (jn the conduct 
 of human affairs" might not have ke^ some of 
 those cells vacant. 
 
 A short distance farther uj) the road is located 
 the Rockwood Lunatic Asylum. This is also an 
 extensive Institution and is beautifully situated on 
 the lake shore. It appears to be arranged and 
 conducted so as to afford the greatest possible com- 
 fort to the unfortunate ones confined within its 
 walls. The system of treatment adopted is the 
 most humane. The building is spacious, well 
 lighted and ventilated. I was kindly shown over 
 the various apartments and spent considerable 
 time among some of the patients. Some of them 
 
 ^■^-— — — -- 
 
» . o 
 140 
 
 ^^'i^^e Papers. 
 
 \ 
 
 are very talkative, while nH,„ 
 -ost profound n,;ia„ o,;;„l"r"'-P' ■" '"e 
 7" lights up the vacant ; '"^^ "^'^ ^""'e 
 
 ^'"-'y through the cor'lr T"^" "'^"^'"8 
 -«'. 'iuietly observers " "; '"'"'^ "^P- 
 "«" 'vas arested by an e deH ""^' "'>' ''«^''- 
 ■"g from the io„.er'end Sh '' 7.*"'" 'P'^^"^'^'" 
 f '"C Of ceremonious manner and f""'' "'^ '" ^ 
 m discovering that .h. k , ^ ^''^ '^ot lone 
 
 °">- than Q^e': Z^^'t '""'^ '° ^^ - 
 ""'h 'he idea that I, m°"t ^''^'^''^ '"'Pressed 
 ^"d had come to jJ her aT' T' ^'"''' ^°'"^body, 
 •-^^d was a curiou k nd o " m' '"''''■ »" he 
 «--^ literally covered wSbrL, ' ^°""". «'hich 
 ^"•^ "^"^ of tin, eacr Of 1 ?""°"^' ^""^ '^"'^'''es 
 « jewel Of priceless valuf X; '" '" ''""'^ ^^^ 
 been brought .0 her from t "' '""'^^''^ ^ave 
 ^hearted visitors. Thus th ' T^ '° '''"^' ''y """d- 
 '■"'"0^ the patients and ,,fr" ^^^"'' '" "^e to 
 ■""eh unnecessary stiffct."'' "'" '"-"from 
 ^ ne cool air of the I t 
 
 fl^y noiseless machinerV'.lTl" '"'° '^' '^'"'d- 
 
 '■Sht ^'■•eamsinattheS;"' "' ''^^""''"' ^"n 
 
 ""be appreciated by theT'; ',"' ""^"'"^^ »'■ these 
 
 the chambers of the sou ! ""["""""'e people, for 
 
 a blank. '°''' «^e shut and the mind is 
 
 A tour through thf p ■ 
 
are enwrapt in the 
 
 ^o trace of a smile 
 -nance. Walking 
 he female depart- 
 ^taring, tny atten- 
 ^^oman approach- 
 ^dressed me in a 
 ' J vvas not long 
 herself to be no 
 
 w^as impressed 
 ^^^^ somebody 
 ^^^s't- On her 
 
 bonnet, which 
 ns, and buckles 
 
 ^^' ejes, was 
 ' tnnkets have 
 ^^'"le, by kind- 
 >eems to be to 
 'n them from 
 
 'ito the build- 
 beautiful sun 
 ither of these 
 e people, for 
 the mind is 
 
 ^es one un- 
 ' one miser- 
 
 '"'' Kingston^ Adieu! — Sour Grapes!' 149 
 
 able. Poor human nature. I have beheld it to- 
 day as I never saw it before. I have seen human 
 suffering and misery depicted in pictures, but to- 
 day I have beheld it in all its awful reality. I turn 
 away, asking myself what does it all mean ? What 
 f^,reat end is it all intended to fulfil ? I go back 
 bewildered, overwhelmed, at the Divine scheme of 
 creation, and try to console myself with the reflec- 
 tion that " it takes all kinds of people to make a 
 world," and if the world had been perfect, then it 
 could not have had a Redeemer. 
 
 I have said adieu to Kingston, and am now off 
 for Hamilton. >Vhen you hear from me again, I 
 trust I may have regained my usual cheerfulness. 
 Meantime, adieu. 
 
 [The reading of the above Paper created a pro- 
 found sensation Many of the people were visibly 
 affected by the touching, though brief, references 
 to the unhapi^y inmates of the last mentioned Insti- 
 tution. The whole audience seemed moved with 
 pity. The sad subject, once opened up, became 
 exceedingly interesting, and all experienced a vague 
 sort of desire for further information. More min- 
 ute particulars as to individual cases would have 
 been acceptable. Many persons were reminded 
 of j.ainful instances which had come under their 
 own observation, and others were prompted to re- 
 

 I If 
 
 n 
 
 '50 
 
 Prize Papefs. 
 
 late accounts of the visits which they themselves 
 had made to similar Institutions. Some of the 
 gentlemen were even able to present valuable sta- 
 tistics as to the per centage of cases of lunacy in 
 regard to population, of various countries, etc., etc. 
 The description of the Penitentiary was also pro- 
 ductive of much comment, especially the two aptly 
 put ijuestions concerning the female prisoners, 
 viz : " U'hy are they here ? Why are they not out 
 in the happy world, like other people's daughters?" 
 These (juestions were examined at length, and 
 were, more or less satisfactorily, answered by a few 
 of the active members of sundry "Moral Socie- 
 ties,"' who happened to be present, as well as by 
 some intelligent citi/ens, who, although not actually 
 connected with any particular organization, had, 
 nevertheless, devoted considerable time to the 
 study of such (|uestions as "the prevalence of 
 crime'" and '' the causes of the increase of wicked- 
 ness. A Mr. IJuzzby, who had looked a great 
 (leal into the- sul)je(t of i)risons, favored the meet- 
 inu with numerous anecdotes from tiie works of 
 well known i)hilanliiropists. Indeed, this gentle- 
 mans extracts from that source were so ioj)ious 
 that the audience would have lost sight of the orig- 
 inal " Paper " entirely, had it not t/een for Mr. 
 I^ely, who perseveringly kept the public in mind of 
 it. A Mr. Solomon, a man of a serious a.spect, 
 
{ themselves 
 >ome of the 
 vahiable sta- 
 of lunacy in 
 ies, etc., etc. 
 kvas also pro- 
 the two aptly 
 e i)risoners, 
 they not out 
 daughters?" 
 length, and 
 red l)y a few 
 Joral Socie- 
 is well as by 
 not actually 
 ization, had, 
 ime to the 
 'evalence of 
 e of wir.ked- 
 iked a great 
 id the nieet- 
 he works of 
 this i-entle- 
 • so i:0j)i0US 
 of the orig- 
 een for Mr. 
 :: in mind of 
 ious aspect, 
 
 ''A7//xs/m, Adieu !- -Sour Grapes r 151 
 
 was glad of an oi)portunit\ to publicly thank the 
 writer of the paper, who ever he might be, for the 
 clever manner in which he turns a well known 
 (juotation to show the advantage to be derived 
 from living a religious life, the selfsame sentence 
 having been used, by its illustrious author, in the 
 very ojjposite sense. 
 
 A Mr. Abstainer, whose hobby was "Total Prohi- 
 bition." took occasion to say " that he would have 
 appreciated the paper very much more if the writer 
 had availed himself of the splendid opportunity of 
 showing how many of the cells, which he sj^eaks 
 of, have been supplied with occupants by the a( - 
 cursed demon 'strong drink.' " In fact', the im- 
 pression that the writer had neglected a rare chance 
 u) say something on behalf of the temj)eran(e (|ul>- 
 tion became pretty generally acceeded i<..| 
 
152 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 KXAMINATION OF THE PAPERS DUPLICITY OF 
 
 THE SECRETARY DISCOVERED CLOSlNv'^ SCENE 
 
 — DISSOLUTION OF THE FISH MONGERS' SOCIETY. 
 
 In consequence of the extreme length of some of 
 them and from a conscientious determination to 
 do ample justice to each, it was found impossible 
 to dispose of more than one paper at a meeting. 
 The work of examination had to be continued for 
 eight consecutive nights. The community at large 
 became thoroughly awakened and each meeting 
 was honored by a large and highly intellectual 
 audience. 
 
 Mr. Eely was a remarkably good reader and 
 seemed possessed of wonderfully indefatigable 
 (|ualities. Occasionally, however, it was necessary 
 to procure a substitute, but in every such instance 
 care was observed in selecting such members as 
 were known to be endowed with superior elo- 
 cutionary powers. Each paper was listened to with 
 marked attention, and the more enthusiastic por- 
 tion of the audience bestowed liberal applause upon 
 the discovery of any particularly bold and thrilling 
 conception, or at the completion of any strikingly 
 beautiful passage. 
 
 ■A 
 
Examination of the Papers. 
 
 '53 
 
 - DUPLICITY OF 
 
 - CLOSING SCENE 
 ►NGERS' SOCIETY. 
 
 length of some of 
 ietermination to 
 oiind impossible 
 ir at a meeting, 
 e continued for 
 iimunity at large 
 d each meeting 
 hly intellectual 
 
 )od reader and " 
 
 indefatigable 
 It was necessary 
 y^ such instance 
 ch members as 
 superior elo- 
 listened to with 
 ithusiastic por- 
 1 applause upon 
 Id and thrilling 
 f any strikingly 
 
 Chief among the outsiders who appeared to mani- 
 fest the keenest interest in the proceedings was Mr. 
 Straightlimb, the school-master. This gentleman 
 was careful to attend every meeting, and, i^artially 
 through a kind of general acknowledgment of his 
 various accomplishments and more so, perhaps, 
 to the outstretching, all-conquering force of his 
 character, he soon came to be regarded by the au- 
 dience as a kind of " General Supervisor and Chief 
 Examination Committee." He was frequently re- 
 ferred to by the President and others as to the 
 merits and demerits of various points in the papers, 
 and his decisions were usually given with much 
 care and elaborate circumspection. As a rule, his 
 opinions were pretty freely and fully expressed 
 everywhere, under all circumstances, but in the 
 discussions which ensued at these examination 
 meetings, he appeared to be entirely in his " native 
 element." He was exceedingly active and watch- 
 ful, and. during the earlier meetings, was evidently 
 much elated by the importance of the proceedings 
 as well as by the apparent importance of himself. 
 Throughout the whole of the last meeting, however, 
 a remarkable change was observed to have settled 
 over him. He was silent. Painfully silent. This 
 silence, on his part, had a wonderfully depressing 
 effect upon the meeting. Not that the people had 
 ever been particularly charmed by his oratory, or 
 
Prize Papers. 
 
 the bulk of the t mlbelln f '"'"°" "^''"^ '^'"^ 
 Hi^ refusal, ther fore t'vT "'^'■- ■^"--^^"'^"'A 
 '•n;n, .Hap'e or t:::^::^:: tt r "^' 
 
 ordinary proceed -na ^^ 7 ^ "^^'^^ ^-^tra- 
 
 / p^uLeea.ng, to say the Iptqi- /^f ,v r^ ■ 
 the whole nfm^ ,. ^^^ °^ 't. Dunne- 
 
 «'ise. that everybody felt int ,^ ?'' Profoundly 
 'hing terrible „as linf to . '"■"-''^■' '^^' ^°™- 
 roof was goi„. ,o Z ,."'''"• ^^'""^"'^r the 
 
 -''y whaf thesis y'r^,:\-^V7'°^ "- 
 make out. Mr. UpnerJl '■ "°^°'^>' "^""'d 
 
 spite of himself He frl' "''/''""^ ^'^^"^^ in 
 *e spel. by feiieitio" ^^Z" Tl '° ^"^^^ °'^ 
 able moment, he ro,^ T \ '"'^'"S ^ f^^or- 
 deavored to t^rc! a smi,e7'"'^'' '""'^'>' ^^^ en- 
 countenance as he sa"! ° '""^^ "^'^^ '''^ "^-'g" 
 
 "Mv Friends I h 
 
 make, which, I think wfirh'" """"""cement to 
 -re ; at least' I hope 'so '.J: T"'^ "•"" P'- 
 suspend the regular proceeding fo" 7'"'"'^'^ ''^ 
 m order that the Dlpn«=.r,t " " '^"' """utes, 
 before you. U^ny7lT"'T ""^ '^^^^'^^ 
 my nephew who went J".! ° f "'"^'"'^^^ 
 ago— '^^ ^'^'^^ here some time 
 
) was, in any way, 
 ^ talk, but from 
 to be regarded as 
 ission of any kind 
 ^r. Straightlimh. 
 r a single remark, 
 as a most extra- 
 ast of it. During 
 It bolt upright in 
 and profoundly 
 '<-'Iy, that some- 
 • ^Vhether the 
 give way, or ex- 
 I nobody could 
 ibly affected in 
 ied to shake off 
 nding a favor- 
 midly and en- 
 over his benign 
 
 ^uncement to 
 ed with plea- 
 concluded to 
 I few minutes, 
 ' be brought 
 Jt, remember 
 - some time 
 
 Examination of the Papers. 
 
 155 
 
 [Mr. Uppergiil was very proud of his relative 
 and labored under the impression that everybody 
 else entertained an equally large amount of admi- 
 ration for the youth.] 
 
 " Although still a young man, he has travelled 
 a great deal ; indeed, I don't know where he has 
 not been. However, I am glad to say that he re- 
 turned to us this morning from I forget 
 
 where. Of course, I informed him of the great 
 work which our society is engaged in. The ac- 
 count of the proceedings which 1 was enabled to 
 give impressed him most favorably. He cheerfully 
 signified his willingness to contribute something of 
 a light nature which might add a little to the en- 
 joyment of the last meeting, and handed me a 
 bundle of papers from which to select something. 
 In glancing over a recent number of the Canadian 
 Illustrated News 1 came across an article whi ch 
 struck me as being peculiarly applicable to the 
 present occasion, and it will afford me very great 
 pleasure to read it. (Hear, hear.) Of course, 
 everybody will understand that it has nothing to 
 do with the competitive papers. It is only offered 
 as a little diversion and must be regarded as a 
 purely gratuitous communication entitled — 
 
 " HOME AGAIN." 
 
 
 After an absence of some duration, with wha 
 
±±. 
 
 •! 
 
 "56 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 expectant eagerness do we look forward to a return 
 to our old home I As the boat, steaming slowly 
 on, gradually approaches her destination, how in- 
 tently do we find ourselves gazing off towards the 
 old hills, and, as the familiar elevations and de- 
 pressions of the far off outline become more and 
 more distinct, how the mind teems with a thousand 
 recollections ! One's experience in the old )>lace 
 may be looked back upon as one long, joyous sum- 
 mer holiday, or the memory may be tempered by 
 sadness, still, as the familiar objects loom up in the 
 distar.ce, the eyes turn longingly towards them and 
 the heart swells with the anticipation of once more 
 reveling among the scenes we love so well. For- 
 gotten, for the moment, is all the gratification real- 
 ized during our absence — the pleasant associations, 
 the new friends, the fresh ties and the varied ex- 
 perience, so recently left behind. In our valise, 
 perhaps, are carefully treasured many little souve- 
 nirs., but these, too, are forgotten ; chased out of 
 the mind by a glimpse of a far-off spire, or the re- 
 flection of the sun upon some well-known dome. 
 
 While we are away among friends, or off on an 
 extended tour, or spending the season at some 
 favorite resort, how quickly the time flies ; but 
 when we think (^f home, or approach its threshold, 
 what an age it seems since we left it ! 
 
 It is said the author of that sweetly beautiful 
 
^* Home Af^ai/i.'* 
 
 »57 
 
 a return 
 I slowly 
 how in- 
 ards the 
 and dc- 
 lore and 
 lousand 
 Id jjlace 
 )us sum- 
 lered by 
 p in the 
 lem and 
 ce more 
 For- 
 on real- 
 ;iations, 
 ried ex- 
 r valise, 
 e soiive- 
 i out of 
 the re- 
 ome. 
 
 f on an 
 t some 
 is ; but 
 eshold, 
 
 ^autiful 
 
 I 
 
 song, '• Home, Sweet Home," was one of those 
 unfortunate Bohemians who never knew the charms 
 of what he could call his own fireside. Who could 
 have believed it ? Millions of people in all phases 
 of life have been charmed by his excjuisite descrip- 
 tion of their own feelings, and the plaintive, heart- 
 movmg air, is warbled by beautiful vocalists, and 
 hummed by all classes, the world over. How dear 
 it is to the mariner in a foreign port ; to the soldier 
 in the tented field ; to the traveller, wherever he 
 may be. I, too, love the song, and in my wander- 
 ings have often been moved to — bah ; what am I 
 talking about I I am as mad as he was. I have 
 been a boarder all my life. 
 
 But, as I was saying, these old hills awaken a 
 flood of recollections. Yonder are Burlington 
 Heights, which I know so well ; all along on the 
 left extends the "' Mountain," up which I have 
 clambered in a hundred different places ; these in 
 lets and ravines are familiar to me, and all these 
 wharves and warehouses, a little shabby, it is true, 
 are — (" HaiMilton") — confound that fellow for in- 
 terrupting me so abruptly. But here we are, sure 
 enough, and, I must look after my baggage. 
 
 " To my lodgings," I say to the " Jehu," and 
 then I lean back in the seat and resume my reverie 
 — " Home, Sweet Home." But — pshaw ! — I can 
 make no kind of progress with my meditations, for 
 
M 
 
 ■58 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 I 
 V 
 
 c 
 
 I 
 
 X.\ 
 
 s 
 
 c 
 
 n 
 
 s 
 
 c 
 
 II 
 
 (I 
 
 ii 
 
 n 
 ll 
 ii 
 
 it 
 
 1 find myself constantly looking out of the window, 
 in the hope of seeing somebody I know. But 
 "Jehu,'' the misc, takes me up a back street, for 
 a short cut. It was a little annoying at first, but, 
 upon further reflection, I concluded that it was, 
 perhaps, better after all, as I always did object to 
 talking to a lot of people on the street, I had 
 scarcely goi the dust brushed off my garments, in 
 my room, when there was a loud ring at the front 
 door bell. " Hello," I said, " Til bet that's Snuf- 
 fers. How the deuce did he find out I was back.*' 
 1 went to the door to embrace him, but it wasn't 
 Snuffers ; it was only a youi:g man who was anxious 
 to sell one of his " Patent flip-uj) oyster openers." 
 
 I Avent back to resume my toilet, and was mus- 
 ing over old times, when, soon after, there came 
 another ring. " That 's Slicer, the old scamp : I 
 know his ring," I thought, as I went out to meet 
 him, but it was only an agent for some new kind of 
 clothes wringer. 
 
 I was permitted to finish 'Vessing without any 
 further interruption, and had just begun work, at 
 the seventeenth chapter of my new novel, when I 
 was startled by a tremendous jingle at the door 
 bell. Sounds awfully like a bailiff, I mused, but if 
 it turns out to be any more of those " Patent 
 Right" men, Pil hit him over the head with this 
 clothes brush. I was determined in this, and went 
 
^^ Home Again'' 
 
 ^59 
 
 boldly to the door, but it was none other than my 
 good old friend Snuffers. As soon as he laid eyes 
 upon me, he broke out in his usual hilarious 
 manner. 
 
 " Hawthorn, old fellow, glad to see you. Brown 
 ao a nutmeg, aye. How have you been?" 
 
 " First-rate," I said, "come in, old boy, and have 
 a cigar." 
 
 After the usual amount of badgering had been 
 got over with, I asked : 
 
 " What's the news, Snuffers ? You are a' ways 
 pretty well posted." 
 
 " Bad," he drawled out, " bad ; trade is dull ; 
 nothing doing. Snickles is gone up. Mixton is 
 tottering, Bupley is believed to have run off, and 
 what we are all coming to I'm blessed if I can 
 make out." 
 
 " Good heavens, Snuffers, I exclaimed, '* you 
 are surely not in earnest." 
 
 "O, it's all true enough. But say, Hawthorn, 
 did you hear about little Miss ? '" 
 
 " No," I said with alarm, " What rjiout h er ? " 
 
 " Why what the •n'-i:h'jr have yo^ been doing 
 with yourself? You haven't heard anything,' ex- 
 claimed Snuffers, with derision. 
 
I t 
 
 i6o 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 1 
 
 Ml 
 O 
 
 ti 
 
 s(! 
 
 oi 
 n 
 
 St 
 
 CI 
 
 ,1 
 
 (1 
 ir 
 \v 
 ii: 
 ll- 
 ir 
 K 
 it 
 
 '* I have been away, you know," I said, by way 
 of apolog)'. " But tell me, what has happened to 
 her." 
 
 " Why she is married ; yes, married to that old 
 money grubber. Littleby; old enough to be her 
 grandfather,*' replied Snuffers, in his forcible man- 
 ner. 
 
 "Why," i remarked, with some hesitation, "we 
 used to think there was every probability of her be- 
 coming, eventually, Mrs. — Snuffers." 
 
 ** There was no ground for the supposition," he 
 exclaimed, and then, after a short pause, he asked, 
 as he smacked his lips, " Where did you get that 
 sherry, Hawthorn?" 
 
 '■ What do you think of it?" I asked, glad to 
 change the subject. 
 
 " Not bad," he replies, as he rcsamples it 
 
 Just then there was another ring at the door-bell. 
 
 "'I'hat's Sheer, I guess, remarks Snuffers, 
 told me he was cominsi round." 
 
 H( 
 
 ' It was that gentleman, .sure en^iugh. As maybe 
 expected, the meeting between us was exceedingly 
 corJial, for we had been friends for a long time. 
 In the course of the chat which followed, S'icer re- 
 marked, 
 
 •^. 
 
^^ Home Again" 
 
 i6i 
 
 , by way 
 )ened to 
 
 that old 
 
 be her 
 
 3le man- 
 
 on, "we 
 f her be- 
 
 ;ion," he 
 e asked, 
 get that 
 
 • o 
 
 It 
 
 lad to 
 
 oor-bell. 
 -He 
 
 may be 
 
 .'cdingly 
 ig time, 
 'icer re- 
 
 " I have no particular news to tell you, Haw- 
 thorn ; I will leave all that to Snuffers ; but 1 have 
 something else for you, though, which may do as a 
 
 substitute, and that is an invitation from for 
 
 tu-night. Now don't say no, for 1 just left them, 
 and they made me i)romisf: to bring you." 
 
 " O yes, that's so, Hawthorn ; 1 was to have told 
 you about it myself, but I forgot it,'' said Snuffers. 
 
 " Just like you," remarked Slicer. 
 
 " 1 will think about it," I replied, and then we 
 had a real pleasant talk. 
 
 " By the by," said Slicer, " Limpkin's last article 
 in the Yearly is capital, and Fintoff has a splendid 
 new [)icture on view up town ; let's go up and see 
 it." 
 
 A Httlc later the three of us went up to see the 
 painting, and then we went round to see l*intoff 
 himself 
 
 On our way up we accidentally ran against (Jog- 
 gles. ( Joggles used to be a first rate sort of a fel- 
 low, but he has latterly developed into a miserable 
 old note shaver. 
 
 " Hello Hawthorn," he says, "back again, aye? 
 I knew you could not stay away long." 
 
 " I staid away as long as I intended to," I reply, 
 rather curtly. 
 
 I 
 
(:< 
 li- 
 st 
 cl 
 
 (11 
 
 in 
 w 
 
 til' 
 in 
 
 it 
 
 162 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 " That was until you spent all your money, I 
 suppose," and then he laughs like a fool. 
 
 " But anyhow, Hawthorn, what are you going 
 to do, now ?" he asks, seriously. 
 
 " The first thing I intend to do will be to cut 
 some of my friends," I remark, with some sarcasm. 
 
 " I advised you to do that long ago," he chuck- 
 les, as he looks at Snuffers. " I must be toddling 
 on, though," he adds ; " will be down to see you 
 before long. Hawthorn ; by, by." 
 
 " Confound his impudence," I exclaim. 
 
 " He is an awful bore," remarked Snuffers. 
 
 " He gives me the blues every time 1 meet him," 
 adds Slicer. 
 
 " I won't stand any of his nonsense," I exclaim, 
 savagely. 
 
 Pintoff was really glad to see us, but it seemed 
 as though he had become even more melancholy 
 than he was before I went away. We found him 
 solilocjuizing over the well-known lines — 
 
 " I feel like one who is left alone 
 In some banquet h.all deserted, 
 Whose hopes have lied. \vho>e jjarlands are <!ead, 
 And all hut him dej-. rted." 
 
 " Nonsense, old man/ began Slicer, and, leav- 
 ing the three to conduct a rather animated dia- 
 
tauna 
 
 Closing Scene. 
 
 loney, I 
 
 u going 
 
 e to cut 
 arcasm. 
 
 ; chuck- 
 toddling 
 see you 
 
 prs. 
 t him," 
 
 exclaim, 
 
 seemed 
 mcholy 
 nd him 
 
 Kl, 
 
 1, leav- 
 L'd dia- 
 
 ^ 
 
 163 
 
 ».-. 
 
 % 
 
 logue as to the grand object of life in general, I re- 
 sume my meditations on the pleasures of home. 
 
 Had tile meeting been in anything like a cheer- 
 ful mood, the humorous strain of this gratuitous 
 communication would have produced an overflow 
 of merriment. Everyone seemed afraid to laugh, 
 and, owing to a lack of sympathetic aecord among 
 the audience, Mr. Uppergill could not throw into 
 the reading of it half the spirit which he other- 
 wise would have done. It, therefore, lost much 
 of its sparkle and failed to awaken much more 
 than a spasmodic smile. The regular work was 
 resumed without any further delay than what was 
 occasioned by the bare reading of the communi- 
 cation. 
 
 Numerous members sought the opinion of Mr, 
 Straightlimb as to the respective merits of the 
 various papers, etc., etc., bnt that gentleman per- 
 sisted in parrying the pointedly put questions with 
 an ominous shake of the head, which seemed to 
 sav, "goon," or, "you can't draw me into your 
 dii bolical proceedings." A chilliness sprung up as 
 tj:v '.7h a respectable sized iceberg had suddenly 
 roliea into close proximity to the assembly. The 
 feeling of uncomfortableness continued to increase 
 each moment and as time wore on, the audience 
 began to feel like a shipwrecked crew in the Arctic 
 Ocean. 
 
I I 
 
 164 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 The work had to be proceeded with, however, 
 and the examination Hmped along without the 
 assistance of the talented school-master. 
 
 Each paper was taken up, briefly reviewed, 
 looked at from various standpoints, pryed into, dis- 
 sected, put together again and laid aside. What 
 were considered the masterly portions of each 
 were animadverted upon at length by Mr. Eely and 
 others, and thus, in due course, the time for final 
 action arrived. 
 
 When all was ready, Mr. Uppergill rose to make 
 the closing address, and took occasion to say in a 
 slow and hesitating voice : 
 
 " I feel tjuite sure that all present will join 
 heartily with me in saying that the Fish Mongers' 
 Society deserves to be warmly congratulated upon 
 the wisdom of the scheme which had brought about 
 this series of meetings." (Hear, hear — Mr. Up- 
 pergill was now beginning to feel a little more 
 cheerful.) " Apart from the fact that the Society's 
 offer had had the effect of stimulating so large a 
 number of the graduates of the public .schools into 
 exhibiting and utilizing in a manner the knowledge 
 which they had been enabled to acquire through 
 the advantages of our admirable school system, all 
 must admit that the meetings had also been pro- 
 ductive of much pleasure and profit. The pai)ers 
 
C/osifig Scene. 
 
 i6s 
 
 however, 
 :hout the 
 
 reviewed, 
 into, dis- 
 
 e. What 
 
 of each 
 
 Eely and 
 
 : for final 
 
 e to make 
 ) say in a 
 
 will join 
 
 Mongers' 
 cd upon 
 
 ght about 
 Mr. Up- 
 tle more 
 Society's 
 
 n large a 
 ools into 
 
 nowledge 
 through 
 stem, all 
 
 )een pro- 
 paj^ers 
 
 i< 
 
 ■A 
 
 which we have heard read appear to i e exceedingly 
 entertaining, and they display a diversity of talent 
 creditable not only to our national school system, 
 but also to the intellectual cai)acity of our young 
 peoi)le.'' (Prolonged applause, during which Mr. 
 Straightlimb is observed to be struggling to pre- 
 vent himself from rising to his feet.) 
 
 Mr. Upi)ergill continues : " I have been par- 
 ticularly well pleased with the productions, es- 
 pecially that portion of one wherein the writer 
 mentions that he had gone off on a " Fishing Ex- 
 cursion."' This seems to me to be intended as a 
 happy and delicate compliment to our society and 
 deserves to be sjjecially mentioned.'' (Hear, hear.) 
 " 1 might, perhaps, if I may be permitted so to 
 say, have wished that the subjects selected might 
 have been, perhaps, a little more of a scientific 
 character ; but, ladies and gentlemen, we must re- 
 member that ' Rome wasn't built in a day,' nor was 
 that famous con(|ueror of old satisfied with one 
 victory. The Fish Mongers' Society will, no 
 doubt, try the experiment again." (Loud applause 
 — above which Mr. Strai<:^htlimb is heard to mut- 
 ter, *' Don't be too sure about that.") 
 
 When order was again restored, the President 
 proceeded : '* As I have just said, the Fish 
 Mongers will, no doubt, try the experiment again, 
 
1 66 
 
 Prize Papers. 
 
 and will then offer a prize, probably for the best 
 paper on some specified subject." 
 
 " Yes, duplicity ! " suggested Mr. Straig/itlimb, 
 in a loud voice. 
 
 At this interruption Mr. Eely was observed to 
 wince and turn pale. Mr. Uppergill took a drink 
 of water and once more began : " I will not pre" 
 sume to detain you longer, ladies and gentlemen, 
 but will proceed to invite you to kindly decide as 
 to the superiority of " 
 
 At this juncture the threatening aspect which 
 Mr. Straightli/nb had assumed reached its culmi- 
 nating point. He arose majestically and solemnl) 
 gazed for a moment, first at the audience, then at 
 the IVesident, and lastly at Mr. Eely. Every- 
 one felt that their moment of extermination had ar- 
 rived. A painful stillness prevailed, and Mr. 
 Strai'^htlinih proceeded to say as follows : 
 
 " Mr. President, — Never, in the whole course of 
 my career as a public teacher, have I been called 
 upon to perform such a painful duty as at this mo- 
 ment devolves upon me. Never before has such 
 an instance of barefaced rascality come under m> 
 personal observation. I have to inform you, Mr. 
 President and gentlemen, that this honorable body 
 of Fish Mongers has been most grossly imposed 
 upon. The laudable object which you had in 
 
■^■1 
 
 Closing Scere. 
 
 167 
 
 5r the best 
 traightlmh, 
 
 observed to 
 00k a drink 
 will not pre- 
 [ gentlemen, 
 ly decide as 
 
 aspect which 
 ed its culmi- 
 and solemnly 
 mce, then at 
 ely. Every- 
 ation had ar- 
 d, and Mr^ 
 )\vs : 
 
 \ole course ot 
 been called 
 las at this mo- 
 fore has such 
 liie under my 
 )rm you, Mr. 
 jnorable body 
 bssly imposed 
 |h you had in 
 
 4 
 
 view has been shamefully defeated by a viper, who 
 wears the disguise of a friend." (Great consterna- 
 tion.) " The students of our public schools, gen- 
 tlemen, are not competitors in this matter ; indeed, 
 our people have been actually intimidated from 
 taking part in this competition." (Indignation in- 
 creasing.) " ICach and every one of those ' wish) - 
 washy ' productions called ' papers ' were writ- 
 ten by one and the same individual — I can't say 
 man. (Cries of " Proof ! Proof ! ") And that in- 
 dividual," continued Mr. Straightlimb, " is none 
 other than your friend ! Vour elocj^ieut reader ! ! 
 Your esteemed Secretary ! ! ! — Mr. Eely," 
 
 This announcement acted upon the assembly 
 hke a torpedo explosion. The President was 
 dumbfounded; the members were horror-stricken; 
 the whole meeting was thrown into the utmost con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Mr. Eely, strange to say, leaned back in his 
 chair, and looked, for all the world, as thougli he 
 had not done anything to be ashamed of. His 
 coolness onl)- increased the indignation. Perhaps, 
 if he had struck out on a different tactic and en- 
 deavored to "justify the action by the honesty of 
 his intention," the matter might have been 
 smoothed over and the assembly might have been 
 more merciful towards him. 
 
 Groups of members were holding consultations 
 
^. 
 
 
 
 i68 
 
 Prize Papefs, 
 
 in various parts of the hall, and, in a little whi 
 the President, armed with a bit of paper, the re 
 tents ot" which had been concocted by tlie ( 
 bined intelligence of the Society, proceeded to :| 
 dress the meeting. It was a most trying momc 
 for the honest and kind-hearted Mr. l^ppergill, b| 
 he felt that he had the support of the whole sj 
 ciety in the matter. 
 
 It was im})ossible to restore complete order, an 
 as Mr. Ui)pergiirs voice was not nearly so stron 
 as usual, scarcely any of his speech could de hear 
 in the body of the hall. There was an occasion: 
 break in the general uproar, however, and the 
 could be heard something like, " Scandalous I 
 " Villainy ! " ".Duijlicity 1" " Base Ingratitude ! 
 etc., etc. 
 
 After a couple of denunciatory resolutions hac 
 been submitted and adopted, the meeting l)rok( 
 up in confuHion. 
 
 * 
 
 •w 
 
 A week later the Fish Mongers' Society dissolved 
 — ceased to exist ; and the whole of its effects, in 
 eluding the '* Prize Papers," were sold, and th 
 proceeds were applied to endow a fund for the de 
 fence of the President in a suit entered against hin 
 by Mr. Eely, for defamation of character. 
 
 '"\. 
 
J* 
 
 lp/>e/i(iLx. 
 
 (69 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Society dissolved 
 e of its effects, in- 
 ere sold, and the 
 a fund for the de- 
 itered against him 
 haracter. 
 
 [The following japers h;ul been handed in to the 
 President along with the other paj)ers, hut the |>e- 
 culiar color of their en\ elope and the singular style 
 of the handwriting somehow aroused the suspicii^ng 
 of that gentleman that all was not riglu. He, 
 therefore, held a consultation in regard to them with 
 Mr. Minnows, the \'ice-President. .\fler mature 
 delil)eration these two worth)* ofticers arrived at the 
 conclusion that the mysterious looking documents 
 must be opened, and their contents examined Ih: 
 fore their rtnal submission to the meeting. They 
 tlien proceeded to make themsehes acijuainted 
 with the nature of their contents. 
 
 Suffice it to say that Mr. L'ppergill was as- 
 tounded at the r.ddacity of the writer, whoever he 
 might be, in attemi)ting to tritle with the respecta- 
 bility of their beloved society. He ( ondemned 
 the papers most emphatically. 
 
 Mr. Minnows was much stronger in his denun- 
 ciation of them than Mr. Uppergill. He looked 
 upon them as being the diabolical production t)f an 
 enemy of the society. He even went so far as to 
 suggest the abvisability of offeri ng a reward for the 
 
' I 
 
 I. 
 
 170 
 
 /tppeudi.w 
 
 api)rehcnsion of the base hound who thus sought 
 10 mak': the •* Fish Mongers' Socict) '" a common 
 »ool for the advancement of some political aim. 
 
 The pa))er,s were most unceremoniously rejected. 
 
 At the dissoluti(m of the Society the papers tell 
 into the hands of the bailiff, who had been put in 
 on a landlord's warrant. I'hai functionary, like 
 the most of his ilk, not being familiar with literary 
 effusions of any kind, and finding them hidden away 
 in a kind of secret pigeon-hole, immediately 
 gras|)ed the idea that they must be something 
 ♦ )f special \ able. llem:e their apj^earancc here.] 
 
 ■• A <,KI..\ I' DI-.MnNM k.\ I lt).\." 
 /At.' // was :,>(>r/,Y(/ /t/'. Ifow it niitu- off. 
 
 " Here ! No. 5 '. '." shouted tlie telegraph clerk 
 excitedly to the small boy " .Messagv for Mr. 
 lilower : run. " The small boy went off like a 
 [lush of lightning; indeed, a disinterested on- 
 looker would have imagined that the urchin was 
 propelled by that subtle element which is now so. 
 successfully made the servant of the public. Be- 
 fore he can reach the office of the gentleman desig 
 nated, however, we will have time to learn that 
 Mr. Blower is one of the '' pillars " of the com- 
 munity, and is, also. Secretary of the local branch 
 'f the great " Restoration Party." He was sitting 
 
 N_.. 
 
1 
 
 lus sought 
 a common 
 :al aim. 
 
 y rejected. 
 
 papers tell 
 •en put in 
 •nary, like 
 ilh literary 
 dden away 
 iimediately 
 something 
 rue here.] 
 
 ;rapli clerk 
 c tor M r. 
 off like a 
 rested on 
 Lirchin was 
 is now s<^). 
 ihlic. He- 
 man desig 
 learn that 
 the Goni- 
 al branch 
 was sitting 
 
 { 
 
 *> 
 
 'A (jteat DfiNoustration." 
 
 '7' 
 
 in his office, (|uietly reading the morning paper's 
 report of the last great " Pic-nic, and was regard 
 ing with much evident sstisfaction the accounts of 
 the superhuman eftbrts which were everywhere 
 l»eing put forth on behall of the *' l*arty,'' when the 
 "-mall boy, almost out of breath arrived and handed 
 him the telegram. 
 
 To ordinary people the reception of a telegraphic 
 itesj)atch is ([uite ;i little episode, and the surinisc 
 usually puts one in a Hutter. 
 
 Not so with Mr. Hlower. As soon as he had 
 fmishcd the |)aragraph which he was reading, he 
 received the desj)atch in a wonderfully unccmcerned 
 '.iianner and leisurely tore it open. .Suddenly a 
 ^orl of terrible eagerness seemed to take posses- 
 sion of him. He read the desjjatch again : then 
 he savagel) demanded to know of the small boy, 
 '• what kept him so long on the way." He did 
 not wail for a re))ly to his «juestion but seized up 
 iiis hat and rushed off to interview Mr. McOuter. 
 
 Mr. McOuter is the l*resident of the local 
 l>ranchofthe great ''Restoration Party." and is, 
 in every sense, a very |>rominent ( iti/en. 
 
 This gentleman was at home attending to his 
 :)usiness and Mr. Blower dragged him, in a rnost 
 '/uysterious manner, into the private office and then 
 (losed the door. 
 
• I 
 
 t <^ 
 
 172 
 
 . ippt'iidix. 
 
 In a few minutes the two rc-appcared and luir 
 ried off excitedly to see Mr. I'lishard. rsl Vice- 
 President of the local branch. This gentleman 
 was also at home, and, strange t(» say. two or three 
 whispers and a nod or two, were all thai was neces- 
 sary to throw him into a stnl of ( xcitenient such 
 as Ik* used to e\|;erience at the greai railwav 
 fights. 
 
 In less than no time, tomparalixely speaking, 
 the three he( ame wonderfully elated and doubled 
 awa\ to lind Mr. Runner, an active and energetic 
 yoking member of the great part\. It would seem 
 as thou!.;h this yoimg gentleman had been expect 
 ing ihem and that he wa-^ at luall) jiossessed oj a 
 knowledge of their . rrand for lhe\ had scarceK 
 uttered more than a word o* two before the .k ii\e 
 yoimg man fairly jumped iiit (»1 his • hair with de- 
 light. The tour prominents tiun rushed out into 
 the street, pickefl up a (()U|)le m.re of the trusty 
 supporters )f the ' i'art),'" hailed a <aband drovi.' 
 off to the (lub. So absorbed weri- they in the tre- 
 mendousness*of the matter that they could not see 
 anything, or anybody, and tluy actually ignored 
 stveral of their geitlenien fiiends who were loung 
 ing in the anteroom. I'hey held a sec ret cone la \e 
 in a private parlor and dec:ided ujxjn a line of ai 
 lion. \ c:o}>) of the following circular was des 
 ]>atc hed b; an army of messengers loall the promi 
 
 I 
 
/ (heat Demonstration. 
 
 «73 
 
 and luir- 
 rsl Virt- 
 lUicniiiii 
 or three 
 a> lU'ces- 
 nl such 
 railway 
 
 peaking, 
 doubled 
 nergetic 
 Id seem 
 expe( ( 
 
 e<l (vf ;i 
 srarc el\ 
 .• .i( ti\t 
 rith de- 
 >i;l into 
 .' trust \ 
 1 drove 
 the tre- 
 nv)t see 
 gnore*! 
 I<»unj^ 
 
 MlcIaNc 
 
 !»r at - 
 IS des- 
 j)roini- 
 
 
 lUMit nieinl)ers as well as a large number of the 
 small fry of ihe great " Party, vi/. : 
 
 ■• Dkak Sik, \our preset- o is demanded at 
 
 the rooms of the " Restoration fartx ' this evening 
 
 ai eight orlock. News of a most extraordinary 
 
 nature just to hand. 
 
 (Signed). 
 ('. VkOriKk. .\. hu)v\'Kk. 
 
 Presideiu. Sec'i'etary." 
 
 Ml the gentlemen then refreshed themselves, 
 moderately, after which they proceeded to their 
 vari(jus places of business to brood over such topics 
 a> the \ would be likely to touch Uj)()n at the 
 coming nieetmg. 
 
 There was .1 large .itlendaiice of the faithful, 
 mm\ precisely ;it S orlock the President opened 
 llie JUfeling with the following speech : 
 
 •• Icllow Niipporiers of the great cause \ ^'ou 
 have been summoned here 10 take action on some 
 imp«)rtant news \\hi( h came to hand today. ( ren 
 tlemen. thi^ «()nstituenc\ nuist be redeemed. Kor 
 some time ba< k it has been lost to us the enemy 
 ha> triumphed, but we rej(;i( e to know that the 
 hour is (ommg when the great " Restoration 
 I'arty" will strike for liberty! for life! (Hear, 
 hear.) I<dr years our co tntry has suffered througli 
 mismanagement and general incapucit). 'Ilie 
 
 
mi 
 
 \ 
 
 «74 
 
 ippftuiix. 
 
 niembfe-rs or our |>aily liavc Itccn >iil)jc<:ted to ail 
 sorts of indignities at the hands (jt tlic supporter-, 
 ol' the blockheads v. ho arc in power. Oin* interest -^ 
 arc being strangled and our rountry is being im- 
 poverishe<l i>y a (iovernuient whoso i)olicy i> 
 wholly and Mjlely 'to the \ Ktors belong the 
 sjioils. {(Ireal applause.) 1 tell you, gentlemen, 
 il we hojM.- to mainiaijt ;i tooihold in thiN • ouniry 
 we must fight our way l>a< k into power. (Cheers.) 
 A great re-action has already .set in : ihe yoke ha> 
 galled and an indignant j»eopIe are rising and will 
 <TUsh the usurpers who are making shi])wreck ol' 
 the nr.tion. (Tremendcjus dieering. ) Hundred> 
 and thousands of our people have been discharged 
 from offiro to inakv room I'nr lru< ulcnl supporter-- 
 of an incapable dnvcinnieni (an thi^ b» ri 
 tiured ? I ask. Can this be endured longer "^ No. 
 ni\ rriend.>, an enlightened people will uoi. ( iu\ 
 not, submit to such base injustice. (Loud ( heer.>. 
 and ( ries cf •' \o * no ' '") Then let us be up and 
 doing. 'I'he Secretnrx to-day re':eivcd lidijigs lron> 
 our chief. I have the great pleasure of announc 
 ing that he has consented to \isit us at an earlv 
 day (Wild and prolonged applau.se. l It behooves 
 us to make his v isil the o( ( asion ol a tremendous 
 demonstratir)n. We must give the illustriou> 
 leader ot the great " Restoration Party ' an ovation 
 such as was never befon beheld in this section of 
 
 h 
 
 ^. 
 
"./ (treat Di'moiistratioii. 
 
 I :> 
 
 cd to ail 
 
 interest> 
 )cin^ im- 
 policv i.> 
 
 '»'^g the 
 ntlcnicr. 
 ountr* 
 ( hecrs, ) 
 f»k-e ha> 
 ind will 
 vrcck ol" 
 fi!ndrc(U 
 s<hargc(l 
 
 ' I>c (.r- 
 'I" ^ No. 
 
 lot. vAi\ 
 
 I <lic'cr.>, 
 up and 
 'i^s Troni 
 inoiin, . 
 
 n oarlv 
 
 •fioovcs 
 
 endous 
 
 Jstrioii> 
 
 'Vation 
 
 tion (>/ 
 
 country. (Immense applause. I It must he nisucli 
 magnitude as will astonish our enemies and {;i\c 
 our people a glimpse of their own ->tri.ii|j[tl». 
 (Hurrah.) 1 must imj»ress upon the meeting thai 
 the time is short. \ot a mo:"ncnt must l>e lost. 
 Kvery man must do his duty. (Cheers. > 
 
 iMr Pushard then nildressetl the meeting : 
 
 Mk. CiiAiiMiw \\i< IkiI',ni>s. 1 tlesiie l(» 
 congratulate tiu members oi the ' Restoration 
 P;' y " in tins conummity U|»on having gained the 
 (onsent of our illustrious Chiet' to vi>it i!>. ii will 
 indeed be an important event. The opportunity 
 must l)e laade tlie most of. The mnltiiude must 
 be brougln within hearing distance ol" our part). 
 The i)eople ot" tins . ountrN aw bi ing greviousi) 
 opjjressed and liie\ doi'l kntnv ii. Their griev- 
 ances must be jtointed .mi loiiu-m : liie} mu^: Ik- 
 told how the\ are bein-i made to suffer b\' a "^'i of 
 incapables who attained pow< r through lri( kerv. 
 The people must b*. biou^ht together, thereiure. so 
 that our leaders tnay explain to the masses the ter 
 rible state oi ihmgr>. and at the >.ame time, pomi 
 out the leiiicd) lor the eviI. I haNe great t'aith in 
 these pi< iiii^ for they bring together the men. 
 women and • hiMien of the land. All go awa) 
 appalled at the villainy of our present rulers and 
 imi)rcssed with a convi<lion that their onl\ liope 
 
i 
 
 176 
 
 l/>/><7/i//A. 
 
 o\ SriUalioii IS in ihc ullinuilc ^U(•(■ciis ot ilic great 
 '•Kc'Sloraiion l*an\." (Cheers.; 
 
 The Chairman then called u|)on Mr. i'inu>ihy 
 OS( allahan. for a few remarks. 
 
 Mr. ()S< allahan then arose and said : 
 
 nui 
 
 •Mk. ( "m airman \\i> (liN I i.kmkn, - Its not 
 ( av a sphaker that 1 am, bm ye sail know I'm 
 
 a divil of a worker. (Hear, hear.) I r 
 
 who]" 
 
 thi 
 
 id wid 
 
 l1 
 
 ,irr\ 
 all ki 
 
 tht 
 
 noi av the sixth ward wul me, anU yeesall know 
 i ve no low at-all-at-all lor thin^ spalpeens that 
 l>ate us ill the last eleeiJon. Thevre our inimics- 
 i\try OIK' a\ thim. the l)le"J^ar(l^. Shiire meni])!u*w 
 has been oiii a\ work '.his six \\i'rk>. and thj divii 
 a haporth will lhi\ ilo for hii:-. (("hcers.) Me 
 and iiic frinds 11 all \\()te U>v the ' .^toration I'artN', 
 and wc's il all in. at the pit iiic " 
 
 Ml'. ( )"S(;ill,ihan"^ sp(\ < h was rctrivrd widi up 
 r(>ri')u> .•ii)j)hiii>i-. 
 
 Mr. MiuSand). beiii;^ loudi\ « .died for. then 
 aro«<i' ;unl said : 
 
 ',-s 
 
 it's e'en ;i lang tinu . )\ ken. sin' I hae addrcs>ed 
 •1 tneelin sir a> this. 1 hae na eoortly ^ift o' }<ab, 
 but I li;ic a heal I wha ne'er deserts a friend. I 
 hae ( onfidence m a oor leaders, an more partieii 
 larl\ in oiu' respe( ted chief. \\v a' must look i(» 
 him l«ii rrlicf fi'om a' oor woes. I wild be on'N loo 
 
 ^% 
 
. / iircat /)('n\(>nstr<iff<>n. 
 
 »77 
 
 u,l;id to hac supp(>rtt'(l ni\ ain countrynion. wha' 
 leads the ither ))ai"ly. but, ye ken, lie's grown iuo 
 weel ai (juaint wi' them ither chaps. I hae ne'er 
 yet kenn'd ony guid in theni. They « anna [)c)int 
 t ony giiid lliey hae done lis s'\n the\ hae he'en 
 power. 'I'heN may preeeh awa" wi" a' their might 
 
 oil 
 
 in 
 
 aboot free trade on sic ither h()l)i)ies. but a" thai 
 will nae do for our we bit o" ( ounti'y. If oor forty 
 millions o neighlK)rs will no pernrit us to tak oor 
 we l)it things amoong thein. we must keep their 
 guids awa" fra us. I wud !ia coouasil on) great 
 expenditure in the demonstration but. steel, we 
 must mak the mo^l ool o it." 
 
 The Chairman then remarked thai the object 
 was lo have an expression of o|)inion from all 
 '|ua>ters, and then <'allecl upon Mr. Skinnnerhorii, 
 ihe colored representatix e. to address the meeting. 
 
 Ml. Skiinmeria)rn appeared lo have n due ap 
 prcciation n\ the hnnor i (uitevred upon bin), and 
 pro» <.'e(ie<l to sax : 
 
 •■ I haiiu a gwin to tain noii long, gentlemen. I 
 J je.^' wi^ii to f'rm you that the Storation I'awt) 
 is je."! iiow our j-eople i^ a gwiji to vote. V\'e 
 haint got no }> iii'f in dein |)awlie^> w.u votes todder 
 way. Wilt we wants most is ekle rights: we want 
 df pri\'iHge of setten on joories an' ben lected to 
 de council." (Cheers.) 
 
i:^ 
 
 . \ppcndix, 
 
 I 
 
 f I 
 
 'I'wo or ilncc otlicr speakers, ol" minor ( oiibc- 
 ijuence, wciv called upon, aftc which the Chair- 
 man remarked that he was very much |>lease(l i' 
 have his fellow » iti/eiis L\|)ress themselves s.i 
 freely, and promised ih;U everything would W 
 made right just as soon as the reins of ( ioveri,- 
 meiit biive been rcS( ucd from lli«. ii.md.s '>r" ih.- 
 people's oppressors. He was ai.^o \vx\ gl.iM lo lind 
 such a unanimous expression nl ()jtini(»fi in ra\( r 
 (if ha\inv. a great dcmonsiraiion. 
 
 i'he ariive and cnergcli' \ounu Mr. Kiiime', 
 then addressed the nu'eting as Jollows : 
 
 " rh«.' speeches would, of < otir^e. be llu» mam 
 feature. i>U) then w< mu^t haw a big siatw lo at- 
 tract the people to lieai tht in. W'r mjm^I ha\e 
 archers, and streamers, au-l tla">. ind uiot'oe^ : a 
 tremendous jirocc-^sion ; il iea-.l a i|o/'Mi ban(U ; 
 ab >ul fifty mounted m.irshals in ligalia : presen- 
 tation of addres.ses, lunclimn, uul the wiuiie t(t 
 wirul up with lirework.s. We nnist io\rr ihe 
 fences with posters, and we \\\\\>\ ^end m\ nun. 
 ti»Jn lo e\er)body ev«.r) where. That is thi onb 
 way that enthusiasm can be engeudered. We n\u->l 
 also have money, .\nd we might as well (pen du- 
 subscription list at once. 
 
 Some of Ihe older gentlemen dionght that (»ii 
 account of the depression and die prospei t oi a 
 
 f 
 
"./ iheai Demonstration." 
 
 •79 
 
 hard winter, the demonstration should l>c j^ot u|) 
 on a cheaper scale. 
 
 Others were under the iminession that lireworks 
 would be a useless ex[)enditure of money. 
 
 A few considered that one ^0(>d l>antl ought lo 
 he sufficient. 
 
 Mr. Wiseman, a manuiacturer. expressed i)int- 
 self as believing tlial all that kind ni hollow di>- 
 j)lay would be entirely sui)erliu()us. What the 
 people wanted were facts. They wanted to hear 
 the leader of the great •• Kestoralion I'artv " enun- 
 ciate his policy and explain i(» them how ihey 
 would be benefitted b\ giving iiim iheii sujiport. 
 
 Mr. Kunner, however, was conlideiii ihai this 
 scheme wa.s the only one that woukl ensure suc- 
 cess and was determined thai none other should 
 be adopted. He was .d)l\ l)acked up bv the 
 President and both .Mr. I'nshard and .\lr. lilower, 
 
 The meeting began In grow uproarious and the 
 audience divided into two faitions one for e\- 
 tJavagance and the other for econoni). 
 
 Mu("h valuable time was thus lost and the meet- 
 ing finally adjourned imtil the next evening. 
 
 (in i'.K CON I'lNirii. ) 
 
1 
 
 1 
 
 I. So 
 
 ■^/>/'f //(//. 
 
 m\. 
 
 ^f^'^iv TWAIS^ UA'ICH NT 
 
 ' 'I'll not 'i vv,-; '^''*''' '""'''' 
 
 •■!"' ""I vin.iiHivv , ''■'''''''~^' i''^'"-^'- 'till I 
 
 '" '"' •'■"'•*ta<li(.n ? 
 "•'^^- I n,,i siiilerccP o ,■,■,.. 
 
 "'Jjiirgation whi<h Ins |„. , '" '""'< "^^ 
 
 >'^^- '-il stones in .7 „ ", '""'""' """" '"<•■ 
 
 ^'"1 inno-en,. I Inv. ,.^ ? ' ''"' X'"'" ' ' 
 an. a ,„ar,yr. '"'^"^'^ "^'""'"l .-.mis,.. , 
 
 ■'■hi« i- ho,v i, all came about. 
 -Wtw short years ago I V,..,, . ^^ , 
 
 iiiiWiiiM»Milill|ii»l>1lt-<iMil8lijil»l|Wi 
 
Mnrk y'n>iii/i s II air/i Si:>n\ 
 
 I Si 
 
 tnidc wished nic 
 
 Kill Id ih;»l pass. My 
 
 place of business was iu»l a very ostentaiious 
 affair. I)iil it was ( onvenieiuly loc atcd on one of 
 the main streets of a ( anadinn ( ity. and. sut'tice it 
 lu say. it answered the puvj)Osc for whit h it was 
 intended reniarkalily well. 
 
 I wa> not to say wealthy, hm in a fair \\a\ of 
 becoming so. I enjosed the unwavering eonti- 
 dence of the publii . The people trusted me im 
 plicilly, and ihey had .dwa\s !)een in the habii of 
 leaving their arti( les at my establishment in the 
 UKjsi friendl) and cheerful manner. .M\ honesty 
 and integrity. 1 might say. were above suspicion. 1 
 had ac(|uired the reputation of being a thorough 
 n)aster of llu difficult trade, was ri\il, obliging, 
 and attentive, never appeared to know anvthing 
 outside ol lU) own businesss. ;mu1. moreover, was 
 an artful listener, and ne\er allowed myself to con 
 tradict anything or anvbod\. 
 
 All il 
 
 lese excellent traits gained lor nu 
 
 that 
 
 measure of sue* ess whic h 1 so much deserved. 
 
 r was, iherefoie, kept tolerabb well employed in 
 renovating the innumerable and eccentric time- 
 pieces with whic h the ( onnnuniiv wa.s bles.scd. 
 
 .\lm(.>st every jjerson, old and vuung, of both 
 
 sexes, wore a watch of jiome 
 
 kintl 
 
 or o 
 
 ther. 
 
 of these sjjecimens of mechanic al ingenuitx were 
 
k 
 
 I ! 
 
 ^ 
 
 iSj 
 
 Appendix, 
 
 not. jjcrhiips. of the most modern shape, and, 
 doul)tless, some of them did not originally ( ost 
 an\ fabulous sum of money. 
 
 Such ( onsiderations. however, were a matter of 
 ^uprenu• indifference to me. I was not compelled 
 to wear an \ of them. They were eminently satis- 
 fa<'tory to their individual owners. Indeed, every 
 one seemed to value his own much above that of 
 liis neighbor's, and that fact was sufficiently satis 
 factorv to one whose simi)le duty it was to repair 
 them. \'aluai)lf tliougii ihcy were, they had a re- 
 markal)lc habii o\ stojjpinu occ-tsionally, and, as 
 the daily life of il)c people w.i> regulated entirely 
 1»\ their repeaters, the work of keeping them in 
 running order was <iiiite ;» profifabk- btisiness. 
 
 h (an be rcadil\ nndcr.stood. therefore, thai 1 
 was justilicd in cherishing the fond hope of being 
 M)on able to retire, buy a snug littk: house and lot, 
 get married, ami spend my declining years in 
 making disco\eries in tlu higher branches of the 
 horological scieme. and in making tnyself useful 
 \\\ other betievolenl wa\s. 
 
 lUil. alas ! how vain are human hopes. 
 
 •• It wa> e\ jr thus, we are told, and I think it 
 is also mentioned somewher.- that life is all sanity 
 Awy\ vexation of spirit. 
 
 In a njosi nnsterious and unaccountable man- 
 
Alark- 'J\>iii/i\\ llatc/i Storw 
 
 '«3 
 
 r.tr 111) l)Usintss suddenly dropped off— shut down, 
 as it were. I'lic people (eased to bring in their 
 disal)led time keepers. Nobody seemed to want 
 anything done. 'I'hosc persons who had l)een in 
 the habit of (hnpj)ing in to ehal a)>()ut the weather 
 M\([ su« li. now weni hurrying i)ast as though tliey 
 were <:hased by wolves or bailiffs. The neighi)ors 
 all looked over ai me askan<:e, and even my (»wn 
 friends appeared .uimous to steer <:lear ot me. 
 
 I could n(;t make it out. 1 felt that there was 
 some subtle i)ower at work, which I knew not of. 
 
 Kor a whole week, the only persons who came in 
 tv) .see me were my ()ld landlord, the gas man, two 
 IT three commercial travellers, the la.\-gatherer, 
 .A\i\ a ( oui)le of ladies who were .soliciting sub 
 ^criptions for the heothen. 
 
 I made int|uirie> a^. to whether an\ of the other 
 storekeepers had noticed anything in the wa\ of 
 u de))ression. but all the gr(;<cr> and dr\ good^ 
 men a|)pt..nc. ! is bus\ as u.^ual. * 
 
 I trie*] to di ;co\xr if I had offended llu. |»ul)lic. 
 ill an\ way. i)Ut I < ould think of nodiing that 
 (ould he construed thatwa). I luul ne\er taken 
 any side wiiatever in politics, and I had alwav.-» 
 oubscinbed liberally to 'veryn.'ligious denomination 
 that 1 had e\ er heard - f. 
 
 TIh' depression conti uetl from day to Jay, until 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 4 
 
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 <i 
 
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 ^/ /a' 
 
 ^ 
 
 
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 &1 
 
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 WEBSTER, N.Y MSM 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
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 I could stand it no longer. I had 10 go up and 
 (.all upon some of the other watchmakers to sec it 
 they had noticed an\- interruption in business. . 
 
 We were not very friendly, as a <;Jass, and. in 
 fa<t. 1 believe any of us would much rather ha\e 
 the other one's bond than his word : still. I 
 thought 1 would risk it, anyway. 
 
 I stei)ped into old Mr. Laverge's. and was much 
 comft^rted in fmding him idle and cross. T alM> 
 observed that his work-bench a|)i>eared as though 
 it had not been disturbed for a month back. ] 
 endeavored to look pleasant and a( ted as though I 
 was much |)ressed with business, as I said : 
 
 ''(rOod morning. Mr. l.averge. Let me have 
 one of your 'patent double-acting, two-ply. Ameri- 
 can, duplex chronometers," for a few minutes. Per- 
 haps I may be able to sell it for you.' 
 
 "Havnt got any,'" he growled. Then. a> 1 was 
 stepping out, I asked casually, 
 
 " How is business. Mr. Laverge ?" 
 
 " Splendid : never was better," he muttered, 
 savagely. 
 
 \ knew differently however. 
 
 Then I went over to see Mr. I'ompkinson, an- 
 other brother chip. I found this poor fellow 
 
 \ • 
 
 A 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
Mark Twain's Watch Story. 
 
 iS: 
 
 pacing up and down the back end of his store, 
 trying to keep himself warm. 
 
 I was now beginning to fee! hap]))-. 
 
 " Tompkinson," I said, hurriedly, ''let me have 
 one of your 'six-ounce, 2 2-carat gold cased, Englisli 
 patent levers, for a little while." Maybe 1 may l)e 
 able to sell it for you." 
 
 "Just out of them,'" he replied, in a busine s 
 voice. *' I expect to have a couple of dozen in 
 to-morrow.'" 
 
 "I am afraid that will be too late,' 1 said, sor- 
 rowfullv. 
 
 Then we had a little chat about the situation in 
 Europe, etc., and as I was going out I encjuired, 
 incidentally, 
 
 " How do you find things ?"' 
 
 " First rate,"' he said. '' Very busy just now." 
 but 1 knew the poor fellow was trifling with the 
 truth. 
 
 I went back to my own shop with a light heart. 
 I was satisfied that the depression was general 
 among us. 
 
 A few days after 1 was further cheered uj) b)- 
 seeing my old friend Noodles coming in with his 
 watch done \\\) in a [liece of newspai)er. 
 
(•( 
 
 i86 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 r 
 
 
 1^- 
 
 *' Mr. Hawthorn," he said, sadly, " I let my 
 watch run down last night and it don't seem to 
 want to go to-day. 1 am sure there is nothing 
 wrong with it." 
 
 I cheerfully set to work to examine the rusty old 
 concern, and found it so clogged uj) with dirt that 
 the wheels could not move. 
 
 " Wants cleaning," I remarked. 
 
 "No, no, Hawthorne, you can't come that over 
 me. Give me l)ack my watch. I've learned a 
 wrinkle or two about you fellows." he added, as he 
 walked out. 
 
 1 was amazed. I liad to put up with it, how- 
 ever. 
 
 After a while one of my best customers came 
 in and remarked : 
 
 " My watch has stopped, Mr. Hawthorne ; just 
 start it going for me. I know there is nothing 
 wrong with it." 
 
 1 took it and looked into it in a scientific man- 
 ner. The works were as dirty as though the watch 
 had been used as a fanning mill. 1 also found the 
 mainspring broken. I thought I had not better 
 say anything about its being dirty, so after a while 
 1 remarked timidl)- : 
 
 " It must have a new mains])ring.'" 
 
 \ 
 
Mark Iwaiiis Watch Story. 
 
 187 
 
 The gentleman stepped back a pace or two and 
 looked steadily at me. Then he broke 01, t as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 *' Now, see here, Hawthorne, none of your non- 
 sense. You watchmakers have been fooling us 
 long enongh. I got an insight into your method 
 of doing business lately. There is nothing the 
 matter with the watch at all." He put the miser- 
 able old turnip in his pocket and went away mad. 
 
 The next customer I had was old Miss Smithors, 
 This ancient dame remarked as she came in : 
 
 " (lood day, Mr. Hawthorne.'' 
 
 " Good day, mum," said J, in my blaiuicst 
 voice. 
 
 " I have a watch, 3ir. Hawthorne, which I 
 value very highly. It has been in our family for 
 generations. It was a present from my grand- 
 mother, and I would not have it spoiled for any- 
 thing." 
 
 " O, certainly not," I remarked with . 'tabic 
 emphasis. 
 
 Then she placed the antic[uated old time-piece 
 in my hand. It was about the size of an ordi- 
 nary English walnut and of much the same shape 
 and color. 
 
 " Handle it carefully," she remarked. 
 
 .-■.■>' 
 
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 h:! 
 
 i?i 
 
 yt:H^ % 
 
 i i^^i Appendix, 
 
 " Certain]}', madam," I replied. 
 
 1 held an iiKiuest on it as it were, and the evi 
 dence justified my verdict, I announced : 
 
 " It must be cleaned, Miss Smithers." 
 
 " O, my gracious !" she exclaimed, '• it surely 
 cannot need cleaning. ^Vliy, it has always kept 
 excellent time," 
 
 " That may be," I replied, firmly, "' but it can 
 never keep any more time until you have it over- 
 hauled. In fact,'" I continued, " it looks to me as 
 though it has never been cleaned since the day 
 your grandmother gave it to you."' 
 
 " My grandmother did not give it to we','' she re- 
 l)lied, energetical!) . " The dear old lady was 
 dead long before I was born," 
 
 1 saw that I had put ni}- foot in it, so to speak, so 
 1 remarked, with appropriate mournfulness : 
 
 •' Indeed ; how sad." 
 
 Then she informed me how that she had re- 
 cently read of a Mr. Twain, who had a nice gold 
 watch completely spoiled b}- some watchmakers 
 somewhere. 
 
 I mentioned my doubts as to whether anybody 
 by the name of " Twain " ever had a gold watch. 
 The idea tliat gold watches had not become " quite 
 
 t 
 
Mark Tk'aiiis W'otcJi Story 
 
 189 
 
 nd the evi 
 
 ed: 
 
 <; 
 
 It surely 
 ways kept 
 
 I^ut it can 
 ve it over- 
 ^s to me as 
 ^e the day 
 
 fie,'' she re- 
 Jad>- Avas 
 
 speak, so 
 
 ess : 
 
 L' had re- 
 nice gold 
 cli makers 
 
 anybody 
 d watch. 
 
 ic" quite 
 
 so awfully common" was a little < onsoling to the old 
 lady, but she finally concluded that she would not 
 leave her's just then. an\wa) . 
 
 I tried to bear up under these terrible trials, 
 but the distressing circumstances were wearing me 
 away to a mere skeleton. 
 
 Towards evening of the next day iMr. vSnoker, 
 scissors editor of the Cliampioii, came in and re- 
 marked in his usual pleasant way : 
 
 '* Mark Twain has written a capital story about 
 his watch. Have you read it?' 
 
 " No," T replied faintly. 
 
 'J'hen he proceeded to relate the particulars of 
 Mr, Twain's exj^erience with the watchmakers. 
 
 '• Its only a yarn," 1 ventured to suggest, 
 
 " Don't know about that," he said. " I am in- 
 clined to believe there is a good deal of tru 'h in it." 
 
 i'heniie cheerfully informed me " that he had a 
 coujile of valuable watches at home which needed 
 fixing up, but he thought he would not have the 
 W(3rk done just now." 
 
 1 was gradually 1)ecoming distracted. I was 
 obliged to go out and try to get a little fresh air ; 
 so I started up towards the post office. I had not 
 gone more than a block or so before I stumbled 
 against a couple of ac()uaintances who appeared to 
 
h 
 
 -. : \ 
 
 190 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 be wonderfully elated about something. They 
 took hold of me by the arms, and, as they walked 
 me along, informed me that they had a splendid 
 story to tell me. (They were quite confidential.) 
 
 '' Yes ? " I interrogated, meekly, 
 
 " O, its capital," said one. 
 
 •' He pitches into you watchmakers pretty lively, 
 I tell you," chimed in the other. 
 
 Then I was obliged to listen once more to the 
 wliole of that horrible story. 
 
 I tried to smile, but I knew it was only a sickly 
 kind of a smile. I turned away sorrowfully and 
 wended my way back to my deserted sho[). Life 
 was indeed beginning to be a burden. I re- 
 membered that I had an invitation to a small 
 party that evening and I resolved to go in hope 
 that some pleasant company might tend to shake 
 off the terrible melancholly which had lately set- 
 tled over me. 
 
 The servant admitted me with a chuckle. 1 
 thought the hostess eyed me with a peculiar twin- 
 kle; even th,^ guests smiled as they bade me "good 
 evening." Before I had been in the room ten 
 minutes old Codgers the " Ath " proposed, for the 
 benefit of the- audience and myself in particular, 
 that he should read " Mark Twain's story about 
 his watch." The prop(^sition was hailed with de- 
 
 ^ 
 
Mark Twain's Watch Story. 
 
 191 
 
 light by everybody except myself. I turned pale ; 
 became sick ; I begged to be excused, and went 
 home. 1 sought repose in the privacy of my own 
 chamber. But I could not sleep. The ghastly 
 visage of ruin stared me in the face. For days 
 after 1 attended at my store and tried to look 
 clieerful and busy, but 1 failed — failed most miser- 
 ably. The only visitors who came in to see me 
 were a few idle busy-bodies who dilated on the 
 beauties of that abominable story. Fmally the in- 
 fernal thing found its way into my own boarding 
 house. Human nature could stand no more. 
 
 I w'as prostrated by a raging fever, and, for three 
 weeks I laid unconscious ; did not even know 
 my head from a pumpkin. I was perpetually 
 haunted by a shadowy view of the poorhouse. 
 \Vhen 1 recovered my senses I found sixteen sum- 
 monses and four capais waiting for my considera- 
 tion. As soon as I was strong enough to bear it, 
 1 was informed that my shop had been closed up 
 by my creditors, who, it seems, had i)ounced down 
 upon me like a parcel of hungry wolves upon a 
 helpless iamb. 
 
 1 went forth into the world a shipwrecked, 
 ruined, broken-hearted, sad-eyed man. 
 
 Still, I am not of a revengeful disposition. 
 
 1 can smile upon my enemies. 
 
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 W. F. MtMAHONS 
 
 CHRISTMAS 
 STORY. 
 
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