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CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microficheSc

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques

1980

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•M

*' J5cac mc, mg JSarh, wbcrc bf&C0 tbc Mater^Spritc ! *'

^^fc

amp

AMBLES IN ^^
EALMS OF ^^

PORT
TORY
ONG

Samuel flDatbc\v0on S5a\)li6*

n pubUebing l)ou0e of
f: Montreal: 1897.

I tarn. E)iT9^alc <5l Co.

^~W^

atfttHifi

f\(o
/297

68753

^tuma^auuammmmmi:^

i^^mn^*^i^*^i^*mn^^mu^^mif^^m^

PREFACE

i^*^i^^mii^*mit^^m»t^^^i^*^f^^m

^i^^zz-j^:^.

^CHILD was given a little corner of the Great Garden
to dig and plant and care for and be his very own to do
with as he pleased.

He labored many days with unaccustomed hands and
strange tools to break the hard ground and fit it for his
planting, then went out along the wayside and by the stream and
through the wood and to the mart if perchance he might find wherewith
to deck his little garden.

He sought diligently and returned laden, having found here a seedling
and there a slip and yonder a root, of which he knew not yet the name nor
that whereunto the thing should grow, yet did he nevertheless set each
in its appointed place and tend and water them all the hot, sunny days.

And some laughed to see the Child at play in his garden, and many
were indifferent ; but some few paused with words of cheer and helping
hand, whereat the Child took heart and worked on. And, by-and-by,
buds appeared and the green leaf showed and the blossom opened and
the Child was glad by reason of the pretty things in his little Garden
of Delight.

Yet some, in passing, when he would show them his pretty blooms,
and learn their names and species, made answer curtly and desired the

PREFACE.

Child to trouble them not with his posies, nor hinder them on their jour-
ney towards the Valley of the Golden Stones to which they were bound.

And again there passed, on their way to the Crystal Hills, a company
of Wise Men learned in such things, and the Child would know of a
surety the measure of his planting. And one said : " Weeds, rank weeds,
all of them, stay me not with such ! " — and another : '• Nay, brother, see
you not this and that and yon rare plant ! " — and still a third : " In very
truth, little one, both say well ; study you this Treatise on Gardening,
wherein I show how to mark the Weed from the Flower, and learn, that
your Garden be not marred."

And as the Child read and pondered there came a noise of joyous
laughter and he saw a Laborer, freed for one day from toil, pass with his
family and hamper of good cheer to a merry-making in the wood ; and
the Child was moved to offer them a nosegay to brig... . Iheir holiday,
and bade them choose.

And the Man and the Woman, the Youth and the Maid, the Aged Man
and the Boy plucked the Child's blooms with thankful hands and went
on their way with glad faces.

And the Child marveled that the blossoms by which the folk set great
store and of which they gathered many were given in the Book as of little
worth, and, that of the few choice plants it showed him the Garden
grew, the Aged Man and the Boy, alone, had, all unwittingly, each
gathered but one.

S. M. B.

Montreal, June, 1897.

ITiTl ■ I ■ I ■ |Lkf7|[TfiT7

\ Contents ^

FRONTISPIECE.

PREFACE.

^ TENT, ROD AND PEN.

Trout Lines.

The Ensnaring Dimples of Fontinalis.

At Home with the Grey Lady.

In Jewelled Gown She Silvery Lures.

The Enchanting Hills of Mystery and Desire.

High Days and Holidays.

How to make a Fly-Rod.

ANNEXED : A Tale of Macnider By-the-Sea.

BALLADS AND POEMS.

A COWARD I A Tale of the Town.

SONNETS, VILLANELLES AND RONDEAUX.
REBEL OR PATRIOT : A Story of '37.

I! RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

gj NOTES.

'TMMMMmMm/MMm.

•ENT

AMD

^PBN

xff—\{fr Tej—Zfp—vsj—t^r-x^-t{pr-t^

Tfoot Lines*

The Ensnaring Dimples of Fontinalis.

At Home with the Grey Lady.

In Jewelled Gown She Silvery Lures.

The Enchanting Hills of Mystery and Desire*

High Days and Holidays*

How to make a Fly-Rod.

,-9^

:^V?:?«^^f?:><%^'>'5t^^^,

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

" And I wish the reader also to take notice, that in
writing of it I have made myself a, recreation of a
recreation. And that it might so prove to hini, and
not read dull and tediously, I have in several places
mixed, not any scurrility, but some innocent, harmless
mirth; of which, if thou be a severe, sour-complex-
ioned man, then I here disallow thee to be a com-
petent judge . • . and I am the willinger to jus-
tify the pleasant part of it, because, though it is known
I can be serious at seasonable times, yet the whole
Discourse is, or rather was, a picture of my own dis-
position; especially in such days and times as I have
laid aside business and gone a-fishing. . . ."

ISAAK WALTON.

i^««*W!8»«fe

TROUT LINES.

CLICK; click; click, click, click-k-k-k, vvhir-r-r-r,
szz-z-z-z —

" There he goes ! Up with the anchor, Peter !
After him, Louis; the line is giving out !"

Stalwart arms grasp the paddles, and the light
canoe is driven with swift and powerful strokes after
the rushing fish ! Not a moment too soon; the pres-
sure is relieved — the line slackens — a sounding splash
— a flash of silver and a shower of rainbow-colored
drops in the gleaming sunlight !

'• He's off !"

" Not a bit of it, sir; reel him in, he's your fish !"

The slack is taken up — the reel fills — we are right
over the spot — the pliant bamboo is strained to break-
ing point. Suddenly, the rod straightens with the
spring of an archer's long-bow; the line flies up with
a whiz, and at the end of . it a giant fish outlined
against the dark green background of the tree-shaded
banks of the rippling river. In recoil from the un-
expectedly ■ sudden rising of what seems some aveng-
ing spirit of the waters, the canoe isi 'Overbalanced,
upset, and the occupants flung to the depths beneath.
Then, as consciousness returned, and wondering eyes
opened, a glance explained everything.

The Scribe^ in reminiscent mood and slippered ease,
bad instituted the periodical winter overhauling of
angling gear beside the apology for a camp-fire in, his

10 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

own particular den, and had dropped off into a doze.
His pet retriever and the household cat, having sat
silently interested spectators, took this fitting oppor-
tunity to assist in thej operations they had till then
been content to oversee. The end of a trout-line
dangling from its reel set in plsxie on a rodi gave the
cue. A few tugs started the music, and the dance
began. The consequences of the exertions of such
vigorous performers on a limited stage may be left
to the imagination — the effects on the sleeping part-
ner have been described.

It may be that these were intensified owing to the
latent malady ever responsive to awakening sugges-
tion ; for, among the niany ills that flesh is heir to
is one — if it xiiay be termed an ill — that attacks alike
the young and the middle-aged, and spares neither
gray hairs nor bald heads. While in some respects
its characteristics resemble those of certain diseases
that engraft themselves where existing conditions of
diluted blood or dilapidated frame render the system
susceptible to attack, it differs from them, and is pecu-
liar, in the fact that its ravages are mostly confined to
those natures that are cast in a finer mould, and it
scornfully passes by those of a baser sort, who enjoy
a comparative immunity from contagion.

Strange to say, that although the " Faculty" num-
bers many victims among its most distinguished mem-
bers, the Pharmacopoeia provides no remedy for the
malady. It is not as bad as seasickness, nor as de-
bilitating as lovesickness, that drags its weary length
along, and finally leaves the sufferer in a state of un-
satisfied emptiness and general collapse. It is rather
feverish in character and intermittent in attack, but

TROUT LINES.

has one symptom in common with the latter disease
that impels the patient to protest with Orlando : *' I
would not be cured !" In short, it is the " Trout-
Fever !"

Who has not had it ? Who is ever free from it ?
Who docs not look for it as regularly as the returning
wormth of the earlyi 'sunnner gives new life to the
blood so long congealed 'by the frosts of winter ?
Who does not feel its first insidious advances as he
takes down his Greenhart or Split-bamboo from its
bracket and lovingly brushes off the dust with his
best silk handkerchief, gives a few turns to the reel,
just to hear the old familiar click, or tenderly smooths
out the rufilled feathers of his favorite "killers"? In
imagination again waditig the same old stream, or
on the secluded lake carefully balancing himself on
the improvised raft or more luxurious skiff, indifferent
alike to pouring rain or beating sun, he eagerly strives,
by the well known tactics, to induce, the wary water-
sprite to " come and be killed." Yes, my friend, you
and I know all about it, don't we? We've been at-
tacked so often that we recognize the symptoms at
once, but, like sensible men, instead of fighting the
inevitable, we proceed to take the case in hand.

True it is, there are some people who can compla-
cently congratulate themselves upon being free from
all danger of arriving at such a maudlin condition.
Tlicir idea of the proper enjoyment of a holiday is to
get themselves up in the immaculate costume of the
ballroom; to appear as symphonies in black and white
in the nightly crushes at the Springs. These know
nothing of the delights of flannel shirts and old clothes
or the dolce farjiiente after the al-fresco lunch, when

TENT, ROD Ar:D PEN.

pipe and story exhale a flavor that Time has not af-
fected. They would look upon the homeward tramp
through the silent woods with the precious load of fish
and other " truck" as unmitigated humbug, or at least
as something they are well out of.

With such your true fisherman has nothing in com-
mon; in his kindness of heart and broad charity for
all that the Craft enjoins, he trusts to circumstances
to place the Philistine within reach of those influences
that tend to produce a better frame of mind, and impel
him, at some time, to pause in his engrossing hunt
after the mighty dollar, to forget for a while the claims
of 'customers, clients or creditors, and turn his back
on the work-a-day world, and his face to those quiet
paths, by river or lake, where Peace and Contentment
have their home.

" Enough of moralizing," say you, " -it's fish we're
after !"

Ah! my friend, you should learn, the first line of the
angler's creed, that '' it's not all of fishing to catch
fish" ; and when you have driven ten miles or more in
a rough conveyance over rougher roads, whipped a
lake all day without getting a rise and driven back
again at night with an empty creel, an unrufKled tem-
per, and a contented mind, you may count yourself
among the novitiate of the Craft. If in camp, you are
able to show as the net results of a day's work enough
fish to supply present needs, cooked them, eaten them
with other fare off one tin plate with the aid of a three-
tined fork and a pewter spoon, enjoyed the meal as
you never did the finest a city restaurant could ofifer,
washed the dishes, and are content, you have done
well. If, then, you, too, can fall to moralizing upon

H« g i;

TROUT LINES.

tbe vanities of an uninterrupted existence within sound
of the market quotations, sing " Hey ! for the life of
the merry greenwood," and realize that the line be-
tween the enlightened adept and the untutored pot-
hunter is defined in that the one considers merely the
fish and the other the fishing, you have reached a plane
where the craftsman can welcome you among the in-
itiatetl. Having done this, he can do little more, for,
as the Grand Master before quoted says: "Now for
the Art of Catching Fish, that is to say, how to make
a man that was none to be an, Angler by a book; lie
that undertakes it shall undertake a harder task than
Mr. Hales, a most valiant and excellent fencer, who,
in a printed book, called * A Private School of Defence,'
undertook to teach that art or science, and was laughed
at for his labor. . . For Angling may be said to be
so like the Mathematics that it can never be fully
learned."

Shall the apprentice attempt what the master shrinks
from? He may be well content if the reader be, wil-
ling to accompany him on his rambles and show a dis-
position to be entertained by his attempts at a little
pleasant gossip by the way.

To the Canadian angler chafing at his enforced de-
tention in the city and sighing for the slowly com-
ing time of his all too short annual outing,
the embarrassment of riches is a disturbing
factor in making choice of a place for the en-
joyment of his own particular sport. There
are the bass lakes of the Eastern Townships, the Mus-
koka, and Gatineau districts; the muskalonge fishing
of the Thousand Islands and the Ottawa River; there
are the trout lakes back of Quebec and those of the

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

Laurentian district, where the monsters come from;
the Saguenay and Lake St. John, where the festive
Ouinaniche sports in his native element, not to speak "^
of the sahnon rivers of New Brnnsvvick and the Lower
Peninsula, which are availaljle only to the very wealthy
and, as a matter of fact, are all held on leases by clubs
and select syndicates at high prices.

The counties of Kamouraska, Temiscouata, Rimous-
ki and Gaspe in Qucl)ec, Restigouche and others in'
New Brunswick, bordering on the State of Maine, may
well be called the sportsman's paradise. It is here the
lordly salmon has his haunts ; here the moose and cari-
bou roam over their native wilds, and trout lakes and
streams may be counted by the hundred. One may
safely get off at almost any station in the district named
and with a portable boat and camping outfit, strike back
into the country from five to twenty miles and dis-
cover lakes for himself that had never been disturbed
with the cast of a fly, and by using a little judicious
" influence" with the cultivateurs, secure their good
will and co-operation, with permission to fish in any
lake that may be on their land.

A word of technical interest may be looked for and
perhaps as well inserted! here and shortly dismissed.

My experience of trout fishing in lakes during the
summer season — which is not by any means the best
time for fly-fishing — varies as to the size of fish. I find
the best time to fish from about four o'clock to dusk,
though I have taken them at all hours of the day. The
style of fly — of which a cast of three is used — seems to
be of small moment, as when trout are rising at all
they seein to take almost anything. The general rule
is, for bright days, to use some such flies as "dark

TROUT LINES.

hackles," " turkey wings,' or " black fairies." For dull
days, any bright-colored fly takes well, and when dusk
comes on, a "coachman" or "white miller" as a dropper
is very taking; in fact, the "coachman" or " Parma-
chene belle" are good flies to make one of a cast at any
time. A slight breeze to ruffle the water is a very de-
sirable element, if it be not a cold wind from the North
or East.

Each lake — and there are hundreds scattered through
the country more or less available — has individual
characteristics of its own as to the size of fish, some
apparently yielding none but small fry, and all of them
containing in their hidden depths much larger ti>h, to
be got at only with sinker and worms; a mode of fish-
ing, let it be observed, justly held in contempt by ycur
true disciple, who would infinitely prefer to have it
said that he had " taken nothing" than to secure a boat-
load in this nefarious fashion, of which the market sup-
plier may well be allowed a monopoly.

THE ENSNARING DIMPLES OF FONTINALIS.

" COME IN !"

" Thanks ! and we'll Uglit some of your cigars, for we
came up to talk over your proposal to do as Peter did,
and *' go a-fishing," and a smoke helps one along.
What do you suggest ?"

" What about taking up our old quarters at the Sea-
View House at Macnider? There are Silver Lake and
Beaver Lake and Trout Lake, where you made such
a record as a raftsman, not to speak of the brooks, the
Tartagou River and the more distant White Lakes
and their outlet, White River, all good for a day's out-
ing and a basket of trout. We can take Johnny and
make a three-days' trip down to that new lake he talked
about, where the fish grew so big that one the last
party caught was so immense they could not get it
into the boat, but had to tow it ashore, and the whole
party lived on him for a week !"

Of course that settled it to the satisfaction of the
quartette of congenial chums whose minds had been
concerned as to the direction their steps should take on
this particular and eagerly looked for holiday.

Tackle was at! once overhauled and repaired, two
wall tents, blankets and other requisites necessary to
the better catclung, curing and digesting of trout were
added to the combined outfit, and the day fixed for
starting.

The close of a sultry sunmier's day — ''the fever being
hot upon us" — finds us wending our way down to the

ENSNARING DIMPLES OF FONTINALIS.

dock of the Richelieu Company's elegant steamers that
nightly ply between Montreal and Quebec, those two
queen cities of the North in whose defence and praise
swords have been drawn and mightier pens than mine
been wielded. Their feet are kissed by the noble St.
Lawrence, that lovingly yields such willing homage,
and proudly performs the menial part of burden-bearer
of the tribute that the nations bring to enrich his regal
mistresses, already embarrassed with the wealth of me-
mories that cluster round an historic past, when self-
denying sons and daughters of the Church, chivalrous
soldiers, far-seeing statesmen, and earnest patriots laid
broad and deep the foundations of their country's his-
tory.

Three hundred and fifty years ago, Cartier, lost in
wonder and admiration, first sailed over its broad ex-
panse. His pious soul, in memory of the day, would
fain dedicate it to some tutelary saint — Canadian no-
menclature ever after taking largely the same pious
bent — and he hailed it St. Lawrence !

The poet, or novelist with a poet soul, will some
day arise who will embalm his memory in some soul-
stirring epic worthy of so great a theme. Germany
has her Rhine, immortalized in poem, tale and legend.
The Hudson and other rivers of the Great Republic
have had their praises sung by many tuneful voices.
Other lands, too, can boast of their beautiful rivers,
whose shores have echoed to the stirring of some heroic
deed, and shall it be wondered if the sons of the North-
land view with glowing pride the glorious possession
flowing in majestic sweep past their doors, whether
these belong to the manor or the cot. Every foot of
land washed by its crystal flood is redolent with the

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

breath of romance and heroic daring. From the very
spot where we start on our journey, the immortal Bol-
lard embarked in canoes with his handful of predes-
tined martyr companions. A few steps back into the
town is the spot where the intrepid Maisonneuve — "first
soldier of the cross," and governor of the colony —
stood alone and held at bay before the p^atc of the fort
a swarm o^ red-skins. A few miles down and almost
within sight — we pass the spot on our way — the heroic
Madeleine de Vercheres held her father's fort for seven
days and nights against the baffled Indians till help
arrived, her only garrison being women, boys and old
men, who could not take the field.

As the boat swings from her moorings, we think of
the little band kneeling, two hundred and fifty years
ago, before their improvised altar, on the spot where the
wharf now stands, and dedicating the infant settlement
to the protection of Our Lady under the name of Villc
Marie, and all the accompanying circumstances so gra-
phically related by Parkman as "true history and a
romance of Christian chivalry." A " Royal City,"
truly, with wealth in rich abundance, gathered from
near and far, from mine and field and sea, by the sturdy
energy and brawn and brains of, and as lavishly poured
at her feet by, the city's hard-headed Saxon sons. To
the eye undimmed by the glare of the latter-day mag-
nificence, and the ear attuned, to catch the whisperings
that echo amid the jarring clamor and bustle of a great
trade mart, these appeal with forceful insistence. The
very air is voicelful v/ith memories of a stirring past.
Amid the work-a-day crowds, impalpable forms, clad
in doublet or cuirass, move to the accompanying tinkle
of rapier and spur; the ghostly chanson of rollicking

ENSNARING DIMPLES OF FONTINALIS.

voyageiir or coiireur-de-bois is hushed by the warning
finger of cassocked cleric, or shamed by the averted
c^lance and shrinking demeanor of hooded saint ghding
by on some okl-time errand of mercy; while high and
shrill above the clangor of alarm bell, Pilotcs warning
bark, or defiant gun, screams the strident yell of the
vindictive foe that ever hovered, alert and ruthless.

A comfortable supper, and a more comforting smoke
on the moonlit deck to the soothing accompaniment
of the violin and harp of the gentlemen from sunny
Italy, and "we seek the seclusion that our cabin
grants."

After a sound sleep, we wake in the morning just as
the steamer rounds the point under the guns of the
citadel of Quebec. The slanting sun gleams brightly
over the sparkling river, shining through the inter-
mingled spars and rigging of the scores of vessels
moored under the cliffs or anchored in mid-stream,
and flashes again from dazzling tin roofs, touching up
the distant foam of Montmorency Falls with a beam of
light, the whole a picture of wonderful beauty, ever new
and never-to-be-forgotten. Quebec! — the Mecca of
the modern tourist, satiated with the chequer-board
cities of more go-ahead proclivities — who shall do jus-
tice to the romantic associations that cluster round its
storied past, or describe its beauties ? Not I, here and
now at least, for we go a-fishing, and trains won't wait.

The Intercolonial Railway, by which we continue our
journey, follows pretty closely the shore line for about
two hundred miles, when it takes a sharp turn off
through the Metapedia Valley. The beautiful pano-
rama of ever-widening water, and distant mountain is
continuously unfolded before our eyes. Our journey

20 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

ends at tlic sharp corner referred to and we are soon
at Macnider.

On alighting, we find the beaming face of "mine host"
looming up on the platform, and jumping into one of
the antiquated carriages that here serve as busses,
wc settle down for the five-mile drive to the Sea View
House, on the shore. As the tide is in, and the after-
noon warm, we take our first plunge in the sea, coming
out with a glow and an appetite, and a warm spot in
our hearts for all mankind.

It is usually understood at the Sea View that when
people go ofY fishing they go to " the lake" — a well
known spot, easy of access, and in consequence com-
paratively " fished out" — but, as aforesaid, Johnny had
thrownj out hints on a fomier visit of an Eldorado
where the fish were swarming one over the other in
their anxiety to be caught. And the size! " OJi, mon
Dieu ! " — the French tongue failed of words to ex-
press the magnitude. We had, therefore, made pre-
parations to make an early trial of thel simple-minded
habitanfs veracity, as well as to relieve him of a solemn
promise to show the place to no one before we had
tried it.

We found Johnny, and engaged his c/iarette and
pony to take the baggage, his buckboard and mare to
transport ourselves, and himself and his brother Isidore
to go as boatmen, cooks, and general camp utility men,
all to be on hand next morning, which finds us up
bright and early, and the breakfast provided by our
kind-hearted landlady quickly stowedl away.

In view of the rough roads and consequent jolting,
the proper packing of the miscellaneous camping out-

■ jy 'ip iii l i wiw

ENSNARING DIMPLES OF FONTINALIS.

fit is a matter of some concern and much rope, but is
soon arranged under Johnny's skilful handling.

Rod-cases, overcoats, necessary change of clothing,
and our "beufs" — than which there is no better foot-
gear for the sportsman ; light, strong, easy to the foot,
and, when properly made, (|uitc water-proof — are load-
ed on the charette. Three day's provisions for two hard-
working and hard-eating men; four others not so v/ell
disposed in one respect, and a mare and a pony
well qualified in both, quickly follow. These,
with what utensils we required in the way of pots and
dishes — not forgetting that standby of the camp, the
frying-pan — with the tents and blankets, made quite a
load for the charette, which we send off as a sort of
avant-courier to make an impression, and more espe-
cially to lead the way, we ourselves following with all
the importance a dilapidated buckboard and battered
habiliments would permit of.

We pause for a moment to cut a " persuader" from a
convenient hazel-bush, then "All aboard!" with a part-
ing shout that induces the sleeping inmates of the hotel
to growl a malediction on the heads of our noisy crew,
and startles our ancient nag into a sufficiently lively
state of mind to carry us with a rush over the short
stretch of heavy, sand-covered road along the beach
and up the little hill at the end. Passing the fir grove,
we reach the first big hill — one out of many we shall
have to wrestle with on our journey — at the top of
which we found Isidore, whose impedimenta consists
only of his woodman's axe, the usefulness of which
will !)ecome apparent from the time we pitch our tents
till we break camp. Isidore being settled among the

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

baggage on tlie chareitc with Johnny, we are now fairly
started on our twenty-five mile drive.

We follow the shore road for about eight miles, pass-
ing through a thriving French village, witli, as usual,
the most prominent objects, its parish church and the
neighboring presbyth'c. Straggling out at either end
of the central point at ever-widening intervals is ihc
double line of familiar old-fashioned farm-houses,
with their eaves overhanging in gracefully sweeping
curves, whitewashed, and, according to the laste of each
individual owner, the roofs and window-frames painted
in vivid colors, or a mournful black; many of tliem
with the front door appearing several feet above the
level of thei road, but witli no steps up to it, suggest-
ing ideas of a state of siege with the ladders drawn in ;
one serving as a model for all the others, and each fur-
nished with the same pattern of snapping cur, most
valiant in bark, but whose usefulness is not otherwise
apparent. A worn foot-path around the gable end dis-
closes the more homely entrance by the back door,
which will probably continue to be used till the inhab-
itants reach a state wherein it will be possible to live
up to the requirements of a front-door stoop, and, as
the stage people say, a practical door.

A striking feature in connection with most of the
better places is the substantial -looking barn, with its
long-armed windmill built out at the best angle to catch
the prevailing breezes, a chain gearing running through
the wall and connecting with the threshing maclnne
inside, all of them, however, at this season of growing
grain standing silent and grim. Another noticeable
feature attached to nearly all the houses is the old-fash-
ioned, oval-topped, clay oven standing in the open,

KNSNARING DIMPLES OF FONTINALIS.

wherein the housewife, bakes the heavy, sodden black
stuff called bread (!) by heating it with a strong fire,
raking out the ashes and putting in the loaves to bake,
just as her Normandy or Brittany French ancestors
did hundreds of years ago. Along the fences, on liius
strung for the purpose, or against the walls of the
buildings, arc the opened skins of black poqioises, with
the fat attached, which laten will be resolved into the
flagrant and luscious porpoise oil with which much of
the cooking is done.

Presently we leave the shore and turn off for our
tedious climb straight over the hills into the back coun-
try, making for what Johnny calls the " donziimc
range " or " concession," pausing for a moment at the
top of the first hill to take a parting look at the ever-
fascinating sea spread like an expanse of glistening
mirror at our feet and reflecting the glare of the bright
summer sun. We journey for miles, scarcely meeting
a human being, and for long stretches not seeing a
living thing, and reach in time a stream where the road
descends and rises again at the other side of the bridge
in a way that would cause the heart of a city hack to
ooze out ,of his heels, but which our hardy nags seem
to take as a matter of course.

Our road crosses several likely streams that sugge^t
possibilities of a good catch of the dainty little brook
trout, but which we now regard with supreme indiffer-
ence. More hills, along whose crests we drive and
enjoy a magnificent view of indented valley and rising
mountain, all covered with a thick growth of primeval
forest; passing several lakes of varied extent, which
Johnny contemptuously describes as ''pas don" or as
containing nothing but '' i/es pctits poissons blancs''

.■■*s**i#^-'"

24 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

Finally we reachi the "last house" and halt a moment
to purchase a supply of milk. Then we plunge into a
two-mile drive over a bush road, the vilest specimen
of " road" it was ever my lot to traverse. We reach at
last our journey's end and drive our team into an open
space by the side of a most temptinj^ little sheet of
j water, sunk, as it were, in the hollow of the surrounding

; tree-coverqd hills,v which dip gradually down to the

1 water's edge and form a fitting background to the pic-

I ture, and throw ourselves on the ground to ease our

{ bones after the six hours' drive.

Johnny speedily], has a fire going, tea made, and we

all fall to on a refreshing lunch, topped off with the in-

\ evitable and never-to-be-forgotten smoke. Ah ! that

smoke — unpleasant comfort, discomforting pleasure —
j who shall account for it, who condemn?

! A pleasant location having been settled upon for the

1 tents — the larger one for ourselves and the smaller one

i for the men — it was decided that we should take our

! . first cast in the scows, which Johnny had dragged out

\ from the spot where he had " cached" them the year

before, leaving him and Isidore to set up the tents and
have things in readiness for our return before dark.
I The ground, or rather water, was new, the boats leaking

; like baskets from exposure to the weather, and as all

\ wanted to fish to the exclusion of paddling, the chances

, appeared slim. However, Fortune favors her friends,

and the end of a day threatening rain being the best
possible for trout, a few casts soon showed there were
plenty of fish. We speedily landed several good ones
of three-quarters to one and a half pounds. Presently,
' in making a long cast near a likely spot, where the

lily pads showed al)Ove the surface, my flies were seized

ENSNARING DIMPLES OF FONTINALIS.

with such vigor and displacement of water as to draw
fcrth an expression of deHght.

'* I've got him — the patriarch of all the tribe of
fishes !''

Reeling him in as fast as the exigencies of light tackle
and an eight-ounce bamboo rod would permit, he was
gradually drawn within sight of my end of the boat.

" By the shades of your valorous ancestors, Don
Carlos, come and have a look at him, so that if he
should break away I shall have a witness to the tale
I have to tell !"

The landing net soon disposed of him and he was
laid in the bottom of the boat, the admired of two pairs
of delighted eyes, the pocket scale recording his weight
at two and a quarter pounds. Darkness was now set-
ting in and we made for the landing, where the cheerful
blaze of the camp fire shot across the quiet waters.
Johnny and Isidore had done their work well. The
tents were pitched, the baggage stowed inside, a tempt-
ing bed of "sapins," or spruce tops, spread, and the rugs
and blankets laid on top of these.

The respective catches of the two scows were jjuly
examined and compared, and though my big trout was
awarded, and still holds, the " record," the results were
eminently satisfactory all round.

The all-important and ever-interesting function of
camp-life — the evening meal — was now convened, and
six hungry men proceeded to discuss one that skilled
hands had prepared; rough and icady, perhaps, but
enticing, as hungry fishermen well know. Fresh trout
— on the fin — fried to a turn with rich bacon. Pota-
toes boiled in their jackets and dried to a powdery

whiteness. Fresh bread and butter. Tea — hot, strong,
3

tt^mffnilSataim^^^Sh

26 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

sweet, and served at the proper moment, winding up
with canned peaches that never tasted so good before.
Not very luxurious, perhaps, or fit to " set before the
king" in >iis royal apartments, but served in such sur-
roundings possibly even his royal nose might take on
a less contemptuous curl. Have you ever eaten such
a meal in camp, my friend ? If so, you'll agree with
me; if you haven't, I can only say, you have not yet
lived !

Isidore's axe having been busy among the pine-
slumps, a fine store of camp-fire material is at hand
which is now put to good use, and we gather round the
roaring blaze that lights up the gloom of the surround-
ing woods and shoots its cheerful beams far across the
blue waters of the lake shimmering under the deepen-
ing twilight. Cigars of a peculiarly racy brand kept
for the purpose having been handed to the men, and
feeling safe against prowlers of all kinds under their
powerful protection, we give ourselves up to the serene
enjoyment of our pipe of peace, the contemplation of
the delights of a day well spent, and of Johnny, as we
see him in the light of i the camp-fire — ^the beau ideal
of the hardy, simple, honest French-Canadian farmer
or ciiltivateiir^ whose ancestors are typified in the cou-
reiir-des-bois of the old regime, and from whom are
descended the voyageurs and raftsmen of later times.
In fact, he might be allowed to speak of himself with
better show of reason, as a certain royal personage is
said to have done ; " Z^ camp ! dest moi !" He has
travelled, has John; been to Quebec, the lumber shan-
ties, and to that Eldorado of the French-Canadian la-
borer — Fall River. He lives in a little cabane on a
rough hillside, its one solitary room containing himself,

ENSNARING DIMPLES OF FONTINALIS.

wife, and the usual tribe of children, which will proba-
bly be increased by one each subsequent year we see
him. We wonder where he would laise enough among
the stumps of his little clearing to keep the life in his
growing family. His house you would not stable your
horse in. He does not see as much money in a year
as you spend in cigars in a month. The ttoffe for
his scantl wardrobe is probably made in continuous
process from the sheep's back by his hard-worked, pre-
maturely aged wife, and thc"^^/(/Jf"on his feet will by
careful patching be made to last for years. He is a
devoted son of the Church, to which he drives with his
family some seven or eight miles when he desires its
ministrations, and wishes to enjoy a gossip with his
widely-scattered neighbors at the same time. He is
strong, healthy and happy ; has probably no idea of the
barrenness of his lot. He is fond of life and would
not willingly leave it, but would make the most strenu-
ous efforts to prolong, if need be, what you might be
disposed to qualify as simply an existence. His fund
of gaiety and good humor is inexhaustible, and his
peculiar chuckle, as he seizes some mot dropped by the
Philosopher in buckboard or boat, is funnier thati the
attempted witticism, and quite as straining on their
limbers. His neighbors call him lazy, and say he is
fonder of going of with " les mssieii's " on their fishing
trips than he is of attending to his farm, but this is
mere envy of his good luck and greater qualifications
for the business which he regards as well-paid pleasure.
He is abFe to do more work round camp and in a boat,
stand more exposure, carry a bigger " pack," eat more
provisions, and is a better man for the rough work of
a fishing trip than any I have ever met. Sai^t !

vajti'" ™*"

^-.^^M^

TENT, ROD AND TEN.

Johnny, may we smoke many a pipe and share many a
meal together yet !

Our first day in camp ended; night closed in, and we
retired to rest on our spring bed of fragrant spruce,
to sleep the sleep of — if not the just — the tired and
happy fisherman.

Rain fell during the night, but cur tent_was perfectly
dry. Continuing in a drizzle all the next day, we did
not propose to lose vv^hat promised good, if damp, sport,
so donning our mackintoshes we sallied out. This
time, with our boatmen to paddle, and comparatively
drier, because more soaked boats, as Paddy would say,
luck favored us and we prepare for the supreme mo-
ment of the first cast. " Carefully, now ! Just at the
edge of those lily-pads," and dovv^n they drop right on
the spot. The flies are scarcely wet when with a sound-
ing splash a good-sized trout seizes a fly and hies ofif
with a rush, making music as he goes. He is quickly
brought up, however, gently played a while, and gradu-
ally drawn within reach of the landing net, when the
transfer is made with proper despatch from his native
element into our basket.

And so the sport goes on. We paddle up and down
and across tlie lake, anchor at the likely places, and
fish all over to the entire satisfaction of all concerned
and the repletion of our fish-creels. As the sun gets
high we go ashore to the camp for our midday lunch,
which we enjoy as a luach only can be enjoyed under
such circumstances. After a rest, and the inevitable
pipe, we go at it again, till, tired out, we make for the
landing-place, and prepare to pack up and start for
home in the morning.

The third day, at noon, sees us packed up ready to

ENSNARING DIMPLES OF FONTINALIS.

start on our homeward drive, and we bid good-bye to
the scene of many pleasant hours, our " record" con-
sisting of the sport we had had, the fish we had eaten
and enjoyed, and a sufficiency to allow of a welcome
treat being offered to our friends in their seaside quar-
ters. The long drive seems, as it always does, shorter
on going over it the second time; in point of fact, being
mostly down hill, it takes us an hour and a half less
to do the return journey. We bring up our craft in
full sail with flying colors, somewhat battered but still
in the swim ; the crew are paid off, with an added
bonus in the shape of some spare outfit, which is greatly
appreciated, and the present voyage is over.

AT HOME WITH THE GREY LADY.

IT FELL ON A DAY, one summer, amid the bewil-
derment of interminable figures of many books piled on
office desks, and the oppressiveness of heaps of goods
encumbering shelving and floor space in warerooms, and
the irritating chaffering of the mart — varying only in
degree from the huckstering of the MarcJid Bonsecours
to the larger operating on the floor of the Exchange
— when the ever-recurring longing for a whiff of the
tonic breath of the woods and streams made all these
seem but a weariness to the flesh, that a letter arrived.

Seeing that in the nature of things this must be a
common occurrence, oft repeated many times a day,
it might scarcely be worthy of remark were it not for
the weighty import of thei contents, which, in brief,
proved to be an invitation from my friend the Professor
to accompany him on a ten-days' outing in the northern
wilds of Michigan, where it was proposed that we should
enjoy life under canvas on the banks of one of its cele-
brated rivers, the Au Sable, and fish for Grayling !
All care for the minutiae of such an expedition in the
matter of equipment was hospitably assumed by the
Professor, who, however, kindly considering my inex-
perience, merely suggested that in one's personal outfit
a Saratoga was unnecessary. In fact, the nearer the
"plunder" — the Professor forgot himself at times —
could be reduced to the proportions! of " a silk hand-
kerchief and a shocking bad hat" the better would the
transportation department's arrangements be facilitated.

AT HOME WITH THE GREY LADY.

■^1
■■.,(

-1

■ ■■r

Here was enough, surely, to stir the blood of the
eager tyro just then entering the novitiate of the Craft,
and to set a-buzzing all his hopes and dreams of achiev-
ing genuine camp experience under ideal conditions;
and the many hundreds of miles of intervening distance
were annihilated, and the worries of business were for-
gotten, and the swift consideration of its claims de-
cided the possibilities, and the answer was prompt, and
it wasn't " No !"

Knowledge has come with experience and the years,
but the Professor's scanty suggestions respecting ward-
robe caused some concern. Surely, even in the bush
in midsummer, something else was useful — at least
as protection against the flies and mosquitoes — say an
eld pair of pants, ditto boots, and a shirt, if not a coat.
Then, a rod and tackle were essential, and a pipe an
absolute necessity.

When at last an outfit had been evolved from the
depths of inexperience and store-closets distantly ap-
proaching the requirements laid down, second thoughts
reverted to the object of all this pother — "to fish for
Grayling !" What sort of a thing was this, anyway,
and where had one heard the name before ? Then it
dawned, and light appeared; but with it the thought
that while I shared with the poet the delight of having
met " with here and there a lusty trout," neither "here"
nor "there" nor anywhere had I come across, or met
with anyone who had even/ seen — not to speak of hav-
ing caught — such a thing as a " Grayling," Recourse
was then had to the books, and the Master was, natur-
ally, consulted first. Hear, therefore, what good old
Isaak Walton says in his " Observations of the Umber
or Grayling " : —

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

" The Umber and Grayling arc thought by some to
differ as the Herring and Pilcher do. But though they
may do so in other nations, I think those in England
differ nothing but in their names. Aldrovanus says,
they be of a trout kind; and Gesner says that, in his
country, which is Switzerland, he is accounted the
choicest of all fish. And in Italy he is, in the month
of May, so highly valued, that he is sold there at a
much higher rate than any other fish. The French,
which call the Chub Ufi Villain call the Umber of the
Lake Leman Un Umble Chevalier; and they value the
Umber or Grayling so highly, that they say he feeds
on gold; and say that many have been caught out of
their famous river of Loire, out of whose bellies grains
of gold have often been taken. And some think that
he feeds on water-thyme, and smells of it at his first
taking out of the water; and they may think so with as
good reason as we do that our Smelts smell like violets
at their being first caught, which I think is a truth.
Aldrovanus says, the Salmon, the Grayling, and Trout,
and all fish that live in clear and sharp streams, are
made by their mother Nature of such shape and pleas-
ant colors, purposely to invite us to a joy and content-
edness in feasting with her. Whether this is a truth or
not, it is not for me to dispute; but 'tis certain, all that
write of the Umber declare him to be very medicinable.
And Gesner says, that thet fat of an Umber or Grayling
being set, with a little honey, a day or two in the sun,
in a litle glass, is very excellent against redness or
swarthiness, or anything that breeds in the eyes.
Salvian takes him to be called Umber from his swift
swimming, or gliding out of sight more like a ghost
tiian a fish. . . First, note, that he grows not to

AT HOME WITH THE GREY LADY.

the bigness of a Trout, for the big^gest of them do not
usually exceed eighteen inches. Hei lives in such
rivers as the Trout does, and is usually taken with the
same baits as the Trout . . and is very gamesome
at the fly, and much simpler, and therefore bolder than
a Trout; for he will rise twenty times at ai fly, if you
miss him, and yet rise again. . . He is of a very
fine shape; and his flesh is white, his teeth — those little
ones he has — are in his throat, yet he has so tender a
mouth that he is oftener lost after an Angler has
[looked him than any other fish."

Again, we turn to the fifth edition of a work pub-
lished in Dublin in 1777, entitled: "The Art of An-
gling," by R. Brooks, M.D., and read : —

"The Grayling is in proportion neither so broad nor
so thick as a trout, and in size seldom exceeds eigh-
teen inches; they weigh about half a pound; but in
some places they are said to| be three times as heavy.
Tliey delight in rivers that glide through mountainous
places, and are to be met with in the swiftest parts of
those streams . . . The time of its spawning is in
May. The flesh is accounted by some to have the
most agreeable taste of all river fish ; it is firm, white,
cleaves like the salmon, and is judged to be very whole-
some. It is a brisk, sprightly fish when in the water
and swims as swift as an arrow out of a bow; but when
he feels the hook he is dead-hearted and yields rather
too soon for the angler's diversion. The same rules
that have been laid down for taking the Trout, will
also serve for the Grayling, only let your hackle be
somewhat finer."

This writer also notes, in almost the same language
as the Master, the alleged characteristic of the Grayling

i \

84 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

to attack more boldly and frequently than the Trout,
and both speak of the methods of taking with bait,
which the modern angler will hold in contempt.

In turning to the Encyclopedia, we find under an
article giving the Latin name — Thymallus Vulgaris —
much confirmatory of the foregoing as applied to the
fish found in England and the Continent of Europe.
In addition, we find it referred to as a "scaled fish*
which "inhabits clear streams with rocky or gravelly
bottoms, and 'seems to require an alternation of stream
and pool.' The back and sides are silvery grey,
marked with longitudinal dusky streaks; the dorsal
fin is spotted, the spots arranged in lines across the
fin. The Grayling is greatly esteemed for the table,
but requires to be cooked when newly caught, when
it has an odor which has been compared to that of wild
thyme. . . There are several other species of Thy-
mallus, none of which are British. One of them. . .
a very beautiful fish . is called . . * Fish-with-

the-wing like-fin,' by the Esquimaux."

Finally, on referring to the dictionary, we notice
under the heading, " Grayling," brief corroboratory
data, specially remarking the peculiar " very broad dor-
sal fin," and, in addition: — " Zool — An American fish
of the genus Thymallus, having similar habits to the
above; one species — Thymallus Ontariensis — inhabits
several streams in Michigan."

Here we reached a point in our enquiry where it
were well to pause in search of technical lore; and,
knowing we were at last on the direct road, to reserve
further investigation till such time as personal intro-
duction might lead to better acquaintance with the
Grey Lady of our quest. For, notwithstanding the

«b...

AT HOME WITH THE GREV LADY.

eminent authorities above quoted, and mindful of ar-
chaic diction, it seems more fitting that such a dainty
incarnation of lovely wilfulness and sweet perversity
should be clothed in female guise rather than in that of
the more prosaic sex, however courtly and worthily
displayed.

Thus fortified with extended information, curtailed
impedimenta, and a limited return-ticket, I started
alone on the invasion of the territory of our bordering
neighbors; and if the warm welcome of the Professor
were any indication of the hearty reception which Ca-
nadians €71 masse might expect, the wisdom and fore-
thought shown in the purchase of that return ticket
were fully justified.

This, though long, was, however, only one of three
stages of the journey; and regretfully cutting short our
stay at the Professor's charming home, we fled together
due North and were landed with all the baggage on the
platform of the little station of Grayling at the head of
the Au Sable River. We lost no time in the exchange
of travelling gear for the " shocking bad hats" and
other things; found the two guides, who had been, en-
gaged with their boats, all in readiness to load up and
start down the river at daybreak — if our impetuosity
so decided; fixed upon a more reasonable after-break-
fast hour than this, and " turned in" to dreams of free-
dom from the thraldom of civilization.

Seven o'clock of a fair August morning found our
whole party assembled beside the loaded boats moored
to the bank of the stream, which at these almost head
waters was of the very diminutive proportions of a
small brook. The Professor yielded to me the place
of honor in the bow of the forward boat steered by

(«

TENT, ROD AND PKN.

his veteran guide, Bill, while he took his seat in my
man Charlie's boat, and — I with gun, he with rifle
within easy reach for use on anything wearing fcDtiicr
or horn — we waved our farewells and were at last off
on our twenty-five mile run towards our goal in the
deeps of Nature's solitudes. ,

The river soon widened and took on the* character-
istics peculiar to these streams; here, sluggishly moving
in level, reed-fringed reaches, calling (or continued
and( strenuous use of the paddle, where an occasional
duck or heron or sentinel eagle offered a mark, and
perhaps a prize, for our shooting skill ; there, sweeping
through a shelving sluice, with scarce enough water to
float us, and plunging into the swirl and eddy of a deep
pool below. The skill with which our steersmen
guided us along our rapid, tortuous water way, where
the natural difficulties of chute and eddy were vastly
heightened by the necessity of dodging the fallen ce-
dars on either bank, reaching almost acrossi the swift
stream — technically known as " sweepers" — was a mat-
ter of admiration to the tyro and experienced camper
alike as they ducked and clutched at those precious
hats in the desire to hold possession and enjoyment
thereof.

We put ashore about one o'clock for a tea-kettle
snack, and shortly after starting again we had evidence
from a crashing in the bushes along shore that we were
in a nt)ted deer country; though we saw none, we fur-
ther on passed an old Indian in camp, and a man
** poling" his way back to the settlements, who had
each four illegally killed out of season — a circumstance
which no one thereabout at that time seemed to think
it his business to meddle with.

AT HOME WITH THE OKEV I.ADV.

We reached our camping ground about four o'clock,
a nice, clear point at a bend of the river, made fast and
(|uiokly had tiie baggage ashore. Here, again, the
ileft, n'.ethodical way in which our guides set about the
work of preparing camp was a matter of admiration to
us who, feeling ourselves in the way, were content to
"sit around" and watch and sni'>ke and wonder. Our
wall-tent was produced from among the bundles, poles
cut, and it was soon set up on the chosen spot with
pickets and guy ropes all in place. Then the near-by
balsams were despoiled of their feathery, scented,
plumes in great armfuls which, being laid, tops up, one
over the other, covering all the floor space, and then a
rubber sheet and a blanket spread over all, presented
a most inviting bed. Pillows were arranged with the
bags and spare clothing, great army blankets laid ready
for top covers, the tackle and remaining outfit brought
in under shelter, and our housekeeping affairs were in
order. Tlie small fly tent set up near by for the men
was more easily disposed of, and with everything so well
advanced it was seen that there was yet time to drop a
line at the door of the Lady in whose domains we now
were.

There's not a grizzled old fisherman of them all but
may, if he will, hark back to his Simple Simon days
in search of suitable sensations fitting the occasion;
or, failing here, may pass on to ,his salad years, when
with mingled feelings of joy and trepidation he pre-
sented himself on the front piazza of the only fair one's
abode in the wake of the mutual friend who had under-
taken to administer the solemn rite of introduction,
and there discover them.

Did I think, as I stepped into Bill's boat and we

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

.'\i

itm\

drifted down lo what he said was a good pool just
below our camp, of the be-ruffled gallant gliding in
his gondola along some shadowed Venetian canal, lap-
ping against the stones of his lady's prison-bower ?
Did I hear the flick of the pebble against the window,
or see the flash of a fair white hand in the moonlight,
or perhaps catch an echo of the kiss and the rippling
laugh that trembled and faded as the boat shot by into
the shadows? I don't know. I only remember drop-
ping my lure as daintily as I knew and the swift and
sudden response, the desperate leap, the easy yielding,
the surprise of the extraordinarily large and beautiful
dorsal fin spotted and colored with the brilliancy of a
peacock's feather, and the flash of dotted silver beneath
as the prize was surely being drawn within reach,
though evidently very insecurely held, all as laid down
in the books !

Evidence as to the delicate care bestowed on such
a dainty pound-weight was the covered well in the
centre of the boat — made watertight except for the
holes in the flat bottom permitting the water to enter —
into which the fish are dropped as caught and thence
transferred into a creel built in the stream by the camp
and there kept alive till wanted for the base use of the
frying-pan.

And to think, in view of all this solicitude, of the
party of so-called " sportsmen" the guides spoke of who
came in, one season, with barrels, and bags of salt, pre
pared to take home their catch in pickle !

Night closed in and all — workers and loafers —
lounged about the glowing, pine-scented camp-fire in
the enjoyment of after-supper pipes; and there filtered
through the smoke and the consciousness of the latter

AT HOME WITH THE GREY LADY.

final conviction as to the all-round skill and proficiency
of the former by reason of pleasant sensations arising
from the display of ability in the culinary branch of the
guides' profession, and we were content. Silently we
sat and smoked and tested our sensations in the novel
situation; alone in the woods, dozens of miles from
anywhere, and wrapped about in their utter and awe-
some stillness and shadows; the latter only intensified
by the flare of our pine-knot blaze, and the former but
emphasized by the plaint of the river fleeing the reach-
ing arms of the " sweepers" and snuggling against its
banks at our feet, the cradle-song of the brfeeze as it
rocked the pine-tops overhead, and the good-night calls
from the rent-free dwellers in Nature's tenements as
interpreted by her sympathetic, though unromantic-
looking, lover, the veteran Bill.

Untamed by other charmer, this grizzled, taciturn
hunter and trapper is happiest when at home in the
woods and will, with a few books, his gun, traps, and
scanty stores, spend the long months of winter alone
in such shelters as he may erect in moving from one
camping-ground to another, gaining from his experi-
ences a training in self-reliance, and building up a
wholesome, manly character as rare as it is unappre-
ciated among the swarming] masses of city-dwellers.

The call of the whip-poor-will needed no interpreter,
but it was needful that he point out to us the difference
between the cry of the screech-owl or the hoot of the
cat-owl; while the echoing whack of a beaver's tail on
the smooth surface of a near-by water stretch, and the
" chuck" of the muskrats among its fringing reeds,
were cause of wonderment till explained by our men-
tor; and the distant bark of a wandering fox, or the

r m

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

r; ;

lair, faint cries of a paclc of wolves in pursuit of deer
lost their disquieting features under the reassuring
indifferencQ with which Bill dismissed them in a word.

It was now time to turn in for a first-night's perform-
ance of a role in the proper costuming of which tradi-
tion enjoins Pyjamas. The deprivation of these did
not seem so strange as the manner in which the more
experienced actor proceeded to dress for the part; first,
slipping over his soft cap a fish-net-like mosquito veil,
and tucking the ends well under his turned-up coat
collar. Then, securely fastening other avenues to his
person at the wrists and ankles, and assisting me to
similarly equip myself, he declared — after plentifully
sprinkling the tent walls and ourselves with extract of
pennyroyal — that we were now fortified against all at-
tacks of mosquito or " no-see-um," and might sleep as
peacefully as in the peppermint-laden air of a counti-y
church. Even a bed of roses has a few thorns sticking
up here and there, and the compensating thorns in our
much perfumed couch were the aggressive little "no-
see-ums" which, despite peppermint and wrist-bands,
wo ked their determined will on hands, arms, and
otherwhere, to our no small misery. This to ease, I
prepared on waking to strip ofif and indulge in an early
morning* plunge in the pool at our door, when the
alarmed expostulations of the others caused me to en-
quire as to the cause. " Feel before you leap," sug-
gested the Professor; and on^ doing so my feelings
underwent a sudden and severe shock.

I have plunged into the chill, east-wind-driven surf
in the bay, or the deceptive shinunering enticements
of deeper water ofif the Point Rocks, at Macnider, and
as hurriedly scrambled out again, chilled to the bone;

AT HOME WITH THE GREY LADY.

but the piercing, icy cold of this clear, northern stream
in midsummer was a thing to remember and shun, and
the scaled and hwry swimmers were left in possession
of their own bathtub, while we stuck to the tin pail.

Life in camp had fairly begun, and, as there were ten
days before us, we desired to taste delight in leisurely
and epicurean fashion becoming those who go " a-fish-
ing" rather than merely to catch fish. In this spirit
one may "fish" in a boat or ashore, with rod or without,
in a hammock with a book, or, stretched at full length
on the pine-needle carpet peering through the smoke
of a pipe, energetically doing nothing. No telegrams,
no letters, no newspapers ! " In the world, yet not of
it," and, for the present, no desire but to be away from
it. We "caught fish," of course, and enjoyed to the full
the angler's keen delight in so doing; but we took no
more than we could use each day, and kept no " record"
of the spoils. We challenged each other to trials of
skill, and if I beat the Professor at rifle target practice
he took ample revenge when we made far-off, amateur
attempts at "poling," generously off-setting his vic-
tory by an offer to give me some lessons in Poker on
Sunday, when it wasn't proper to fish !

Such an evenly balanced conscience is apt to cause
uncasinessf>and I observed symptoms of trouble in the
Professor's. On being pressed, he confessed that his
longing for venison and his respect for the law were at
conflict, and he feared the victory of matter over mind,
inasmuch as a broiled venison steak was at that mo-
ment the one thing lacking, without it Hfe was empty,
and for it he would risk much. Could I help him, and
did I think my scruples would affect my nerves and
impair my proved, steady aim, and would I get into

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

V ■

Bill's boat and g-o up the river at once and be ready to
" shine" down when dark set in, and bring meat ere he
died? Certainly I would, with pleasure, alloyed, how-
ever, with misgivings that this was but another of my
friend's facetious ways of taking the stranger in and
affording him entertainment.

On the way up, I learned from the guide much res-
pecting deer hunting, and how, between the hounds
and the bullets of the swarming pot-hunters on one
side and the fangs of the scouring wolves on the
other, industriously at work day and night, in season
and out of season, the poor deer were even then on the
high road to extermination. The practice of "shining"
deer is, alas, too common wherever they are found and
the conditions of streams or lakes occurring in the dis-
trict are favorable to its employment. In brief, and
speaking generally, " shining" is accomplished by plac-
ing a strong, forward-thrown light in the bow, beneath
and behind which the hunter, sitting in shadow, directs
his aim by the fascinated eyes of the game towards
which the steersman's silent paddle is propelling the
craft. It is resorted to, usually, in the closed summer
season, when the deer seek the water to rid themselves
of flies, is a nefarious practice at best, and we justified
ourselves ini the use of it by the immunity granted in
game laws to hunters in extremis and forest-rovers
providing for the family larder.

Having reached our objective point some miles
above camp, we waited till dark, lit our "jack," and
shoved off into the night ; not even a whisper or move-
ment in the boat being permitted as we glided like a
phantom with the current, along which Bill's silent pad-
dle guided our unerring way. We passed the first stretch

AT HOME WITH THE GREY LADY.

of smooth water, but only silence absolute and deep fell
on our straining ears. Then a thrilling run of rapid
and pool, dodging under and around the overhangiiig
" sweepers" grimly threatening catastrophe, brought us
to the next "reach," over which we had about passed
w hen we heard the splashing in the rushes for which wo
had been so eagerly listening ;but too late, as it was
useless to turn back and attempt a successful approach
up current. Again we scurried through a bit of swift
water where the vigilance of the steersman must be
more keenly alert, and the attention of the rifleman
may be diverted to the panorama whizzing, by, and the
fantastic dance of light and shadow among the trees
on either bank, and on the water stretching in a molten
flood before ; then into another likely '* cover,"
which also " drew blank ;" a final slide, and, almost be-
fore one might realize it, our six-mile run was over,
and we were slowing up where the flare of our "jack"
was nodding to the welcome of the camp-fire, and were
stepping ashore, empty-handed, to condole with the dis-
appointed Professor, and persuade him to try his luck.
Tliis he did the next night; and for four consecutive
nights did we, alternately, make the trip, with no better
luck; and the tantilization of the ftast deferred waxed
great with our whetted appetite, but the longed-for
realization w'aned wath our fading hopes.

It is the unattainable we ever desire; and though
our refrigerator was kept full of fresh fish, and we had
large supplies of hard-tack, condensed milk, and other
such back-woods luxuries, the moon we sighed lor
frisked just beyond reach. The situation was desper-
ate and off-chances must be taken, so a foray down
river by daylight was decidedi on, and Bill and I again

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

were elected to go as the foraging party. We slipped
off after breakfast, with the good wishes of the two
left behind and the smiles of the morning sun beckon-
ing us on before, alert and eager for achievement; but
beyond going ashore to inspect an ingenious contriv-
ance put up by an Indian hunter for smoking his ganif',
and, again, to see the work of beavers in cutting down
trees for their dam-building operations, the trip was
uneventful; and, having run some ten miles, we decided
to put back.

The Chinaman is said to have defined toboganning
as : — " F)iz-z-z-z— Walkee-back-a-milee ;" the moralist
draws useful lessons from the difference between slip-
ping down hill and slowly regaining the lost ground;
and on a fishing river it makes all the difference
whether one is usiii^^ a paddle or a pole — to the one
so doing. As for me, having given up the hope of
getting meat, and the necessity for doing anything not
being apparent, I stretched full length in the bottom of
the boat and proceeded to do nothing most sedulously
all the way back — simply live. Thus engaged, the top
of a high bluff we were nearing came within my line of
half-awake vision, when I was startled into a fully
aroused condition by seeing what looked like a large
calf come skipping up to the edge and look over, a
hundred yards or so away.

" Deer," remarked Bill, quietly. " Think you can
hit it so far away f* I dassent try to git any nearer."'

"Well! ril have a crack at it, anyway !"

" All rieht, I'll steady her agin th' bank. Now
keep—"

The well-meant advice was cut short in the impa-
tient ring of the first shot of the kind I had ever fired,

AT HOME WITH THE GREY LADY.

which, through the smoke, I could see, with pardonable
elation, had taken effect; and it only required Bill's
hearty ''Well done, good shot, you've got him, sure!"
to make the satisfaction complete. WeJ put ashore,
found the slain deer fairly and s(|uarely hit, prepared it
for transport, dragged it down the bank and into the
boat and made for the beleaguered camp, where we
were welcomed in hearty and substantial fashion fitting
the occasion. If our feasting lacked the vigour and
thoroughness of our more savage brothers celebrating
such functions, we certainly tested our guides' skill
as caterers; and the taste of those grills and roasts, and
the smell of their preparing, are among the memories
that abide with us of our sojourn in the domain c. the
Grey Lady. (

All too soon these golden days of idyllic delight r.re
counted „off, and the Jast one is reached, the last fly
cast, and the last meal eaten in our " Camp Lazy,"
which we shift that night a mile or so up stream, where
we are to be met in the morning by a lumber team,
and thus jirosaically toted back to civilization and store
clothes. We had that night practical demonstration
of the need for great care being exercised in selecting
camping ground in a timber country; for there fell
upon our taut canvas roof such a shower of rain, and
there roared about our walls such a storm of lightning,
thunder and wind as one meets with but rarely; and,
when we sat upon the top of our baggage piled on
the great lumber waggon which carried our whole party
— boats and all — and wound our way out of the woods
among the giant trees that lay prostrated in every di-
rection, some torn bodily up by the roots, others
snapped off like broken pipe stems, ,we appreciated

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

the sagacity that instinctively leads trained experience
to pitch a tent so as to quard against such ever-present
danger.

After some six hours of this laborious, dromedary-
like method of travel, our weary, unshorn, sunburned,
fly-bitten persons, and battered belongings, were un-
loaded at the country inn from which we had started,
and wc were contemplating the pictures of ourselves
reflected in the little chamber looking-glass. Unat-
tractive at best, the most partial critic might well shrink
from faithful description, and we fled the sight and
sought the remedial possibilities of dressing-case and
valise, ^nd the consolatory evidence of the platform
scale, which showed a gain of five pounds each in our
weights.

The next morning we bade farewell to our trusty
squires, who were waiting to see us off in the early
train which was td carry us the first part of our long
journey of eleven hours to my comrade's home, where
delightful hospitality tallies so with inclination that one
needs no pressing to linger and enjoy, and the days
pass. These, too, must end, and the daily grind be
taken up, and the twenty-fifth day since this was sus-
pended finds me again in., harness after nearly 2,000
miles of travelling to and from the quest on which I
was bound, with a few beaver chips and a deerskin
as evidences of success.

But if these bcj all, then were it barren indeed, ajid
the writing and reading of these chronicles a fruitless
task !

IN JEWELLED GOWN SHE SILVERY LURES.

" And here is a hearty draught to you, and to all the
Brothers of the Angle, wheresoever, they be, . . and
to all that love us, and the honest art of Angling
. . for I love any discourse of rivers, and fish and
fishing." ,

IF, perhaps, unmindful, or unknowing, of the strict
letter, there ,is no doubt of the complete assimilation
by later-day " Brothers of the Angle " of the whole-
some sentiment of the Master's time-honored toast.
Indeed, it was in pursuance of the implied injunction
of the closing portion that a little knot of them were
engaged, one summer afternoon, on the balcony of the
Sea- View, at Macnider, just as they had been on every
convenient occasion since Fortune had so kindly
brought them together. Therel was the I General, who
had hunted and fished in every corner of the world, mtc
which it was popularly understood he had sprung, like
a great forerunner, fully armed, and had been accumu-
lating impedimenta ever since. Then, the Veteran, who
had caught salmon, not to speak of trout, in greater num-
bers and for longer years than he cared to remember,
in all their most favored haunts. The Philosopher
and the Scribe were there, too, absorbing knowledge
from the lips of the Elders; while the unlearned and
unnamed Neophytes simply wondered at and envied
the capacity for absorption, and the skill displayed in
the unfolding of the Book of Wisdom.

48 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

As we sat and talked, tlie eyes of all swept over the
noble expanse of shininiering bine spreading from the
cliff-foot North, East and West, and fcjund no resting,
save upon what seemed a bank of clouds faintly seen
through the haze of the northern horizon, where lie
the Hills of Mystery and Desire. We spoke with
diffidence of our early yearnings and later resolve to
visit and explore, and disclosed a half-formed project
to hire Sandy's schooner, gather a following and make
a descent in force forthwith and settle once for all the
nature of those wonderful trout he was ever dangling
like an Tgnis-Fatuus before our mind's eye. The
Veteran heard with the tolerance of years for youth,
but without enthusiasm; declared he wanted no "wet
sheets" or "flowing seas," nor "a wind that follows fast,"
either, when he went fishing; expressed a decided pre-
ference for Pullman conveyance in which to reach, and
dry beds, comfortable boats, and good men to enable
you to enjoy your fishing when you got to it. As we
silently watched him deftly and artistically putting the
finishing touches on a fly he had been making for our
instruction, we thought with ill-suppressed envy of the
private preserve which made it possible for our friend
to indulge his taste in such happy way, when, as if
answering our thought-suggestion, he spoke again : —

" Now, look here, you, Philosopher and Scribe,
what's tlie use of wasting your time and taking such
trouble and risk going forty miles to the North-Shore
for a few trout when there's my water on the Bale des
Chalejirs lying idle. It's ,too late for salmon, but
there'a lots of trout, and big ones too, and you're wel-
come to all you can take. I'll give you a letter to
Peter, who'll look after you on the water, while his wife

IN JEWELLED GOWN SHE SILVERY LURES. 49

will attend to your comfortable lodging ashore! Wl»ai
do you say ?"

What was there to say, or do, but to try .to express
our thank's as best we could and arrange the time of
starting to suit train and steamer schedules? But, when
all this had been done, it wasi found that a sudden in-
disposition would prevent the Philosopher from going!
What now to do ? Play Hamlet minus the title role,
or close the doors — go alone or stay at home? The
theatre-bred, accustomed to the stimulant of crowds,
might demand tliQ one, but "The Contemplative Man's
Recreation" is independent of extraneous stay; and
its votaries, failing in better, are quite content alone
in their own good company — hence the Scribe's un-
hesitating choice.

I find myself, therefore, in light marching order,
with handbag and fishing tackle, on the platform of the
little station at Macnider waiting for the down train,
which soon whirls us ofY; now plunging into the gloom
of interminable snow-sheds, and again emerging into
the shimmer and sparkle of that noble sheet of water,
Lake Metapedia. We slip for miles along its shores
till the road dives into and burrows its serpentine way
through the gorge of the Metapedia Valley, along the
clifY-shadowed banks of the smiling river of the same
name — the forest-children's higTTway across the inhos-
pitable wilds of that portion of the Gaspe Peninsula
and utilized by civilized men in building the now dis-
used " Government road" on the other shore, whose
broken-down bridges and grass-grown track we catch
glimpses of as the superseding train flashes swiftly by.
A foretaste of delight and a spur to appetite is afforded
at the sight of a couple of local, business-like " fisher-

■ww"n

irwuwn

BS*iaj4»i(»«4*"^vft^ >.-v;j>.''"" -I'-fti..

■MHMI

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

men" lugging on board at a way station a magnificent
string of fine trout, the spoil of this well-known river;
and, again, at the mouth, where the other celebrated
stream, tlic Restigouche, joins and forms one of the
finest salmon preserves extant, we get passing sight of
the luxurious quarters, of the fortunate owners. We
are hurried on to the seaside port of Ualliousie and at
once go aboard the little steamer " Admiral," lying at
her dock ready to start at daybreak.

On waking, we find that we are well on our way
down the 7)V«>, skirting the North shore and dropping
freight and i)assengers at stated points into the great
scows that have put out and serve as lighters in lieu
of wharves. Our turn comes and we are dropped with
other freight into the yawning depths; the long sweeps
are got out and our unwieldy craft is slowly urged to
the not distant shore, which we reach at last with an
appetite as keen as our impatience at the delay.

The gossip of mine host, and the more cheering fare
of his wayside inn, serve to pass the time while con-
veyance to Peter's is being arranged and got ready;
and a stout team with a monosyllabic driver is pre-
sently bearing) us towards our goal some miles up-
river. Here, news of our coming having prece is,
our welcome was warm and cheery. Peter V vvas
temporarily absent, but our hostess's kii o over-
looked nothing; rest and refreshment being, preferred,
and substitutes for Peter and his boy in the canoe as-
sured for the afternoon's fishing, the interval is utilized
in taking stock of our surroundings.

The house is perched on a little blufif at a sharp bend
of the stream, overlooking one of the best salmon
pools on the river, and is but one of a number strung

IN JEWELLED GOWN SHE SILVERY LURES. 51

like beads along the road leading from the sea to vice-
royalty's quarters on the edge of the wild. Each
household is interested in the sport of salmon fishing,
through supplying p(jlers, cantx^s, produce, etc., to the
anglers, who secure accommodation by temporary en-
gagement, periodical lease, or purchase outright, of
lodges and fishing rights.

Here, surely, a royal sjiort may be fittingly .enjoyed
in luxurious ease, with care removed and inconveni-
ence refined away !

The monarch steps down to a waiting barge moored
to the bank belovV his lodge, seats himself in the low
armchair in the centre, nods to his henchmen — who sit
to paddle or stand to pole, one. at either end — and is
steered, or pushed, down stream or up as fancy directs.
His robes may not be very imposing, and his crown
but a shapeless mass of felt; but his rod of office is of
the best workmanship, his. tobacco or cigar of courtly
flavor, and his all-end^racing smile of satisfaction and
litter content a thing the biggest king of them all niay
envy and vainly hope for till " crowns and kingdoms
perish." Royalty and vice-royalty come here seeking
that which courts and high places ill afTord; men of
state and men of affairs gladly drop the weightiest mat-
ter if they may but come and kiss the hem of the Jewel-
led Gown; and the palace-dweller turns his back upon
the tinselled pomp and glitter, hurries leagues upon
leagues to the little, unpainted, wooden lodge, well con-
tent if in his short stay he may catch but the glint of
the Silvery Lure of the tantalizing Sprite flitting by
wood and stream.

Meanwhile the matter of fact Alfred and Tom are
waiting the pleasure of the every-day-young-man, and

,i'JiOiMSJSii'ai^iJS..*i\^.

52 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

we put off at once upon the; water. A first glance es-
tablishes the necessity of heeding the Master's maxim,
now become a truism : — " fish fine and far-off ;" for
except in the deep, sluggish, level reaches, where fish
are not usually caught, the river flows in a succession
of pool and rapid over a clean, gravelly bed. and the
water is remarkably clear even at great depth. We
met with but fair luck, enough, however, to whet ap
petite and put one in a, humor to enjoy the house-
wamiing to which Alfred invited me that evening.
This was enlivened by the strains of the country fid-
dlers, brougiit over the hills " at great trouble and ex-
pense ;" the presence of some of the anglers from neigh-
boring lodges, together with a goodly supply of lemons
and other Juices from their stores; and the vigorous
efforts of the beamingv dancers to test the stability of
Alfred's new frame house, which they persevered in
till well into the dawn.

The next morning brought to me the first fair view
of the silvery lure of the Jewelled Gown; for, having
shifted our scene of operations, we seemed to have
better luck in the new pools; and the reel sang merrily,
as, anchored at the head of a little rapid, we cast into
the pool below,, and the silver flashes came at us singly,
in pairs, and would no doubt have come in greater
number had we offered more inducements in the way of
flies. That two were enough, was soon shown when
I got a lively trout, fresh in from the sea, of two and
a half pounds, and another of one and a half, at once,
on a light line and cast, at the end of an eight-ounce
bamboo rod and tried to hold and land them in the
swirl of the tumbling rapid. By careful handling of
rod, landing-net, and canoe, we managed, between us,

IN JEWELLED GOWN SHE SILVERY LURES. 53

to bring- up all standing with cargo safe; and while fill-
ing up — pipes understood — we had opportunity to
study and praise.

The speckled trout of the brooks and lakes is a sin-
gularly beautiful fish; the Michigan Grayling is unique
in its dainty, delicate dress; but a fresh run sea-trout,
lusty, fiery, and strong, having the characteristics of the
lake trout, but with fainter markings and dimmer spots,
and the added charm of the sheen that flashes from its
silver coat, is, to me, the acme of piscatorial beauty. As
a sport-afifording, gamey fish, when found fairly numer-
ous and large, in ideal conditions for taking, there are
few if any to compare; and even your veteran ^almon-
fisher, after a long day swinging a heavy, two-handed
rod without result, may be induced to admit that an
hour's play with a newly-run school of one to five-
pound sea-trout is " not half bad."

Rain now interefered vvith the comfort of, ' f it did not
entirely interrupt, the fishing, but the next evening
Noah's bow of promise was once again displayed to
cheer and encourage; and, as if to be more emphatic,
it was this time doubled, and the glorious spectacle
sweeping across the sky in broad arches whose bases
were the eternal hills about us, lit by the last beams
of the sun sinking behind the Western range facing
our door, is in memory yet.

The next day an early start was made up-river, with
Peter and Richard polin.cf; partly to cnjov a leisurely
trifling with the fishing in the pools controlled by our
Veteran host and the proflfered hospitality of a neigh-
boring angler-friend at a midday dinner by the way,
but largely to simply explore the charms of this untried
new world of stream, mountain and wood basking in

54 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

glorious sunshine. The sturdy polers made short
work of swift current and boiling rapid; and at one
place, where a considerable actual fall is encountered,
and appears to bar the way, I was astounded to see
them make straight at it, and, by surprisingly skilful
manoevring of the poles, the canoe was actually forced
up and through the foaming water, and almost before
one could draw second breath was floating in the calm,
level stretch above. Here, we shortly turn and start
on our long, dreamy, flight back, wherein poles are
discarded and paddles but little used, except for steer-
ing; the rod is scarcely heeded, and the pipe allowed
to go out; all tension is relaxed in body and brain;
thought and speech are quiescent and dumb. The
witchery of the river is upon and about us, entering in
and taking possession of our very being; its musical
laugh is rippling in our ears; its seductive allurements
are dancing before our eyes ; the perfume of its breath
is stealing over our senses; and we drift unheeding
of the fleeing hours, and the shadows lengthen, and the
dusk falls, and — we are floating in the pool below
Peter's house !

A suspicious splash, followed by the widening tell-
tale circles, arouses all the dormant passion of con-
quest. A tempting "white miller" is slipped on the cast
and profTered as a feeler, with most taking success, and
for half an hour the pool resounds to the splashing of
the captives that are gathered in, till darkness and
satiety combined intervene with a stay of proceedings,
and we go ashore for supper.

I have studied good old Isaak Walton's recipes for
cooking a Trout, and have tasted Johnny's accomplish-
ments in that line with the aid of a frying-pan and

IN JEWELLED GOWN SHE SILVERY LURES. 55

some bacon, and have found them good; I have es-
sayed the achievements of the Windsor's chef and
found that fancy sauces and imposing names cannot
redeem indififerent material or make stale trout
fresh; but I take off my hat to the memory of that
freshly-caught boiled sea-trout, served with q%% sauce,
the good lady of the house placed, smoking hot, on
the supper table that groaned in pitying asides at the
clumsy compliments the grateful fisherman showered
upon the embarrassed cuisviicre !

Not even ambrosial delights in the Temples of the
Gods may long detain mere mortals yet fettered to
grosser things; and the time arrives when one must
pack up and hie away to labor. It is arranged that
Peter shall take me down in the canoe as the more plea-
sant way of reaching the sea shore, where connection
with the steamer will be made ; and, accordingly, next
morning, we bade farewell to our kind friends, feeling
that even the Master with his boon companions and
pupils might be well content with mine hostess's
speeding of the parting guest and the modest reckon-
ing of the charge.

We drift leisurely with the easy glide of the current,
which flows more sluggishly as we approach deep tidal
water, and soon catch sight of the blue sea at the
mouth of the river. Reaching this, we have still quite
a run across a deep bay where the sea breeze has full
sweep; but, notwithstanding this raises quite a swell,
the little canoe rides like a gull, and, obedient to Peters
steady urging — reinforced by some shaky paddling
of my own — is shortly floating in smooth water by the
little pier of the fishing station on the beach. Here
we find store of ice and skilled hands to properly pack

56 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

the fish we had reserved to bring home, and we adjourn
to the snug quarters of the store-keeper to wait for the
steamer and enjoy a gossip along with his proffered
hospitaHty. His quaint originaUty and shrewd com-
menting on men and things were as entertaining as the
talk of his wonderful cancer cure and evidences of its
operation were amazing; while his truly enchanting,
old-fashioned garden, filled with quaint Hollyhocks,
Sweet Williams, Marigolds, Monk's-hoods, Phloxes,
and other species, unknown and forgotten in these
hot-house days, all arranged with care and taste along
pebble-paved, picket-bordered walks, was like a peep
into Fairyland, and remains an abiding assurance that
one may catch many things beside fish if one only
wishes and keeps one's eyes open when going "a-fish-
ing."

At long last, the smoke of the steamer is seen round
the point, and, with a hearty hand-grip to Peter, and a
word of kindly farewell to our Genie of the Enchanted
Garden, we are off in the scow and, in time, aboard.

As we stand on deck watching the vanishing point of
the beach and the widening stretch of blue between,
there comes the thought of those who "go down to the
sea in ships," or are occupied in labor by its moody
shores ; of those who live the free life of the forest and
camp by the running stream; of Johnny, and Bill, and
Peter, each different in character, yet each typifying
traits developed by the subtle spirit of out-o'-doors ;
of the Great Teacher who chose His disciples from
among just such men, and found them not wanting;
of the hale spirit of " The Compleat Angler," sweetened
and made lovable in the practice of his "gentle art;"
and there comes, too, the wish to leave as parting fare-

IN JEWELLED GOWN SHE SILVERY LURES. 57

well to those who have companied thus far in these wan-
derings, a line from his Creed : —

'* . . the blessing of St. Peter's Master
be . . upon all that are lovers of virtue,
and dare trust in His providence, and be quiet,
and go a- Angling."

THE ENCHANTir^G HILLS OF MYSTERY

AND DESIRE,

THERE IS TUCKED AWAY in some pigeon-hole
of memory of most of us, however prosaic, a recollec-
tion of some youthful aspiration, some desired achiev-
ment, some longed for atttainment, that danced and
flitted before our imagination ever luring us on to the
uncertain and illusory path of accomplishment.

To the boys of Macnider, the distant hills of the
Laurentians, hazily seen even on clear days across the in-
tervening miles of blue sea between, loomed large with
promise, their skies shone fair with hope, and their
streams sang joyously to the dance of the leaping trout
as none other. The " North-shore" lured them as the
great unknown, big with wonder and discovery, has
ever tempted. But there was no Isabella to pa.wn
jewels and equip ships, and there certainly was power-
ful influence to restrain impetuous mariners from ven-
turing so far on their "long, low, rakish crafts" im-
provised from the left-over planks of Sandy's schooner-
building operations. And when we had attained the
dignity of a " flat," the veto power still held, and the
injunction: "not to pass the 'point rocks'" was rigor-
ously maintained. And, even when in course of time
Sandy's schooner was finally completed and floated
like a sea-pigeon preening itself in the crystal mirror of
the bay, the admired of dozens of pairs of envious eyes,
and Sandy magnanimously offered to take a load of their
owners direct to the promised land, there was still the

THE ENCHANTING HILLS OF MYSTERY.

passage-money — which Sandy vowed was " fur naw-
thin' " — and our parents' permission to be secured at
one and the same time. Then it was we tasted the bit-
terness of hope deferred, and, in our small way, felt
the humiliation of Columbus going a-begging among
the Courts of Europe on a question of ways and means,
and entered, in a measure, into his feelings when he
heard the stern and decisive " No!"

The Boy, however, soon grew into man's assertive-
ness and opportunity, and, by hire or purchase, achiev-
ed the yacht or yawl that should realize his youthful
dreams ; some of him, alas, but to find the sailor's
death amid the treacherous shoals and currents and
sudden storms that banish delight from those inhos-
pitable shores.

The Doctor was ever one of the most ardent and
venturesome, and took long to mature his plans; but
when, prior to his last summer's outing at Macnider,
he proudly displayed certain Admiralty charts, nautical
instruments, tackle and arms, it was surmised by the
more cautious Scribe that something was in the wind
and might be in the water before long. We were not
long in doubt what he was about in the far-away regions
of the Gulf where he had betaken himself, for a tele-
gram reached us at Macnider to the effect that a fast
and safe yacht had been purchased, an experienced
pilot secured, and that even now the impetuous owner
was on his way up and desired the Scribe to secure the
presence of The Infant and Don Carlos, together with
the more important items of tent, blankets, camp out-
fit and provisions, all to be on the beach ready to be
put aboard on the arrival of the Commodore, where-
upon we should immediately set out for a cruise to the

60 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

" North-Shore," where we should camp and sail, shoot
ducks and porpoises, catch trout, and — speak it with
awe — perhaps a salmon ! Here was a lengthy pro-
gramme at short notice, truly ; but the long anticipated
joys of landing a salmon and seeing Eldorado at the
same time stirred, up the Scribe at once to action.
There are, however, considerations of business and
wives and boys of their own that weigh with the now
Old-Boy. The Don pleaded business and the general
Tomphool notion of the whole thing, and promptly
declined. The Infant concluded his patients could
wait a few days — we said they'd be glad to — and, as
the expedition lacked ballast, thought he'd better go.
The Scribe founcl no insurmountable objections in any
of these respects, and, having in mind the gastronomic
needs of a ship's company, and his peculiar adapt-
ability to meet them, had, philanthropically, about de-
cided to take the cook's chances of voyage, ship, and
crew as a fair risk, when the Commodore^ hove in
sight through the fog, pitched his anchor ashore, and
followed it himself, demanding if we were ready to
start ! Now, it is permitted even to a Jason or a Nan-
sen time to fit out, and the intrepid navigator was per-
suaded to allow at least twelve hours for this, and to
start by daylight. This found us ready and determined,
notwithstanding the Don's dismal prognostications of
disaster; but, as we had seen him in close conference
with Cannnelle on the river while pretending to be
fishing, and knew Cammelle' s pessimistic views res-
pecting foolhardy, amateur sailors and cranky sail boats
already, we preferred the quiet assurance conveyed in
the wink of our pilot Louis' twinkling eye, and cast off
amid the rather subdued farewells of families and

THE ENCHANTING HILLS OF MYSTERY.

friends, and pointed straight out as close to a fair Nor'-
East breeze as we could win. This assurance was com-
pleted as, when fairly .started, we watched Louis'
business-like handlinjj^ of chart and compass, the cal-
culating? and laying of our 45-niile course to our un-
seen destination, and his emphatic declaration of his
ability to sail the boat alone and go to Anticosti if
need be, though admitting the evident advantages of
deck and cabin for comfort and added security.

Though the wind held fair, and we bowled along at
a 5-knot gait, certain ominous signs presented them-
selves, which one of our Medicos felt it to be his duty
to go forward and investigate; and from the ensuing
sounds the Cook was of opinion that a storm was ris-
ing. He was about to anxiously apostrophise ''the
Pilot" respecting " danger on the deep," when his
glance fell upon this worthy as he sat in careless ease
with his hand on the tiller, his pipe in one side of his
mouth, and an incomplete grin on the other, and he
refrained. The callousi and indifferent attitude of our
other Medico to the troubles of a confrere struck with
the hard plunk of ai winged duck, scattering and shat-
tering a layman's innoculated respect for the camara-
derie of the Profession, and the Cook sat and smoked
and thought and wondered where the wisdom of pay-
ing any more of his hard-earned dimes to the Hospital
to cure him of a sore head after shore leave when two
of its most brilliant attendants were impotent and sub-
dued before a little Mal-de-nier !

The rapidly nearing shores took form, and Louis
proudly pointed out the cluster of hou?es — the only ones
for miles either way — which marked the entrance of
the river for which he had been making in one straight

TENT, ROD AND PEN,

run for half the clay, and remarked : " dat where I pro-
mise' to bring you, and dere you arc !" Our confi-
dence in his skill was confirmed as we watched him
dodge the shoals and sandbars bordering the channel,
which he made with ease, and we swept in on the swells
into smooth water and rounded under the sterns of two
Gulf fishing smacks anchored in the quiet bay. We
and our baggage were soon ashore aud the camping
ground selected. The tent was pitched, beds were
made, a fire started, and supper prepared and eaten
with the rapidity and Ccusc of old cam]:)aigners in good
time to allow of the usual camp-fire pipe before turn-
ing in for the night.

It might bo supposed that a "jy^y wall tent would
afford but inadequate accommodation for four men
and their baggage. But if our six-footer sighed for
more room he liad at least enough to ensure that his
many feet came well inside the tent flap, and we half-
raters took what was left without a sigh for the luxury
(?) of our late seaside quarters; and, drowsily adapting
the mariner's prayer; "Lord, have pity on those poor
folks in the hotel nd^v," we surrendered to the soothing
benisons of the chant of the lapping tide, the crojn
of the pine-scented shore breeze, and the pervading and
absolute peace surrounding our little hold, unshared
by intruder and sentinelled only by the sleepless stars.
Thus fended, we resigned ourselves, trustfully and
care-free, to the benign ministry of Nature's own nurse,
Sleep. So may it be when we meet the Cowled Sister
as we camp by the other river, and our fears, born of
the hospital and the charnel-house, fiee and are gone
as she folds our passive hands and leaves us sleeping

iriiMiikilH

<*»■

THE ENCHANTING HILLS OF MYSTERY.

with the chaste kiss of peace upon our fixed and serene
brows !

Our tent door faced the East, and the slanting
beams of the early niorninpf sun, reflected from the blue
tide now at its full, awoke us to the actualities and pos-
sibilities of a glorious new day. Our glance swept
around from the little point where we were encamped,
formed by the river on the right, and the deep bay to
our left, where three white porpoises were sporting
within stone's throw of the shore that for miles East
and West shelved precipitously to the sea. The tree-
crowned bluffs were unbroken by building of any kind,
save where the few fishermen's cots clung to the sand-
bank shared with them by the telegraph station, and the
little chapel used only in the infrequent visits of the
missionary priest in his journeyings along the coast
by pilot boat or dog-team, and the desolate beauty of
it all was charming. The more prosaic thought oc-
curred, however, that it was the last day of legal sal-
mon-fishing and that our obtaining the privilege of
permission to try the doubtful chances of capturing
a belated wanderer of the tribe depended upon the good-
will of the guardian of absent owners' rights. As our
tackle consisted only of light bamboo trout rods, and
their accompanying fly-books could not show half a
dozen salmon flies among them; and, moreover, as
trout fishing privileges are in general free'y accorded
to accredited anglers, we thought that our ambition
to score one salmon out of the hundreds already taken
might, under all the circumstances, be reasonably facil-
itated. Much to our regret, we found the keeper of the
keys absent down the coast and not expected back for
some days; but assuming the tacit permission of his

64 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

letainers as a gracious invitation to enter the open
gateway, we enlisted one of them as guide to the un-
known land of many dreams. We left Louis in camp
to do some needed minor repairs and stepped into the
waiting canoe to be ferried across to the point whore
we should begin what we supposed would be a few
minutes' walk to the Unknown to which we were being
lured.

Oh, those miles through hot sand where the sun
beat mercilessly, and those hills that extracted perspi-
ration and breath so ruthlessly, and the weariness and
the thirst only aggravated as we glanced in passing at
the restful luxury of the barred and deserted fishing-
camp and the evidences of thirst assuaged scattered
all about !

The added discovery that we had brought no lunch
did not, however, deter us, and we still pushed on till
the welcome sound of the " chute" and the sight of an
ideal pool at its base dispelled all fatigue and roused
us to our opportunity. The Commodore and the
Cook soon had their bamboos rigged with the likeliest
trout cast the united experience of fisherman and guide
could suggest; while the Ballast betook himself and
the gun — with which he had immortalized himself by
bringing down a duck on the way over — to the sha-
dow of the friendliest rock he could find in that weary
land of great rocks.

The conditions of blazing sun and hot weather were
not such as to invite success, and we met with indiffer-
ent measure of it. The easily satisfied Commodore
soon resigned his rod to the wiling hands of the gmde,
professing to prefer taking lessons to fishing himself;
but the Cook, despite a splitting headache, vowed he

THE ENCHANTING HILLS OF MYSTERY.

would stick to tlie panic so long as it followed and
adhered to the lines laid down by him, and the results
were ten or a dozen trout runninp^ from half a pound
to two pounds weight. Suddenly a sountling spla>^h
almost at his feet caused the writer to turn a glance of
enquiry, which fell upon the excited half-breed guide
gesticulating and pointing to where his line cut
through the water of the pool impelled by an, as yet,
unseen motor. His yell of delight: — *' utic belle sau-
mon " — was heard above the roar of the falls, and we
gathered around intent unon the question propounded
by the bald-headed man's friends: "what will he do with
it?" Tliat this might soon be resolved into: " what
will it do with him?" was evident as we saw the line
swing towards the head of the rapid below, and the
vain effort of the fisherman to overcome with his light
tackle the weight of fish and swirling water. The fish
was swept with a rush into the pool below, and the man,
quickly following along the bank, soon had him drawn
into a quiet comer, where he checked him till the net
was brought and a hasty consultation held as to the
best way of landing him. Obviously, the owner of the
rod should have assumed his right and the guide his
duty; but both the Medicos declined to assume respon-
sibility in such an unaccustomed operation and passed
it over to the Cook as more in his butchering line.
He, nothing loath, rose to the situation on top of the
rock where the guide was perched and took the rod,
leaving the other free to handle the net which, with true
professional ease and skill, was swiftly slipped under
the now subdued fish and he was lifted out on the bank.
The triumph was not spoiled by the diminutive size of
the captive — which proved to be a small salmon of

66 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

about five pounds weight — but the Cook yearned for
the thrill of a capture wholly his own, and returned to
his stand by the pool where, from certain signs he had
observed, he hoped this might yet be* effected. A few
casts evoked a reponse that his experience of trout-
fishing entirely failed to account for; but the whispered
comment of the guide who came running up with :
" saumon, m's'sieu ! rest t'ree minute !" fully explained
it. Tlie suggestion being acted on, the guide further
remarked : " if you 'av 'Jock Scott' you ketch um sur? ;"
but, so far as appeared, "Joek" not being of the present
company, we concluded we must perforce submit to
the implied alternative, when the guide's eyes fell on
the fly-book, and he pounced with a cry of delight on
a solitary fly hidden awav in a corner. In a jiffy he
had the tail fly of the cast off and the exchange made,
and with a satisfied smile he bade me " try * Jock Scott,'
you see !" I did try what I now gathered was "Jock
Scott," and we did see, in less time than it takes to
tell it, a flash of silver darting through the pool in
"Jock's" direction. The fly disappeared in the unmis-
takable manner that follows a sure rise; the strike was
fortunate and timely made; and the supreme moment,
long anticipated and hoped for by the angler, when he
should be fast hooked to a salmon risen to a fly cast by
himself, was now upon him. He had read and been
told of such moments; had just assisted in landing
the first he had ever seen caught; but this was a sen-
sation unuiistakably new, and it must be enjoyed to
the full.

Although it was soon evident that the captive was a
small fish, the fact that inexperience and light trout
tackle were pitted against one of the kingliest of game

«r-

THE ENCHANTING HILLS OF MYSTERY.

fish — albeit only a princeling — in a little pool at the
head of a boiling rapid, gave the odds largely in favor
of the fish. The excited spectators kindly refrained
even from giving advice, but silently and intently
watched the struggle of the angler to keep his fish in
the comparatively quiet pool, fearful that the intense
strain would prove too much for the tackle, and the
fish either break away or be swept down into 'the froth-
ing cauldron below, where the chance of landing was
slight. Steadily but cautiously the tackle was strained
to the limit of endurance,, and the battle forced away
from the brink of the "chute" into the deeper pool
above. Now a leap clean out of the water allowed a
few feet of line to /be quickly reeled in, only to be re-
signed inch by inch as the fish bored his way to the
bottom of the pool, whence the relentless spring of
the bent rod would again draw the struggling captive
nearer and nearer to doom at the hands 'of the alert
and eager guide, who waited, net in poise — in default
of gaff — for the proper moment to strike. The angler
was now conscious of having the mastery, but fearful
of the strength of his tackle, hastened to end the fight.
A final leap — a last dive — and the fish was yielding to
the remorseless strain of rod and reel. The line was
slowly but surely gathered in, and the fish drawn within
sight, then within reach, of the waiting net, which the
skilful guide swept under him, and he was lifted out on
to the shingle and mercifully despatclied with a blow
on the head. Amid the uniteil congratulations of the
party, the gaffing tribute was cheerfully yielded by the
proud angler, whose deHght was, however, somewhat
chastened by the throbs of the headache — forgotten
during the struggle — and the thought of the hot, weary

68 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

Smiles before him ere ease and sleep might be hoped
for in the little tent by the sea -shore.

We draw a veil of silence respecting the tedious
^ homeward tramp, and the remarks of the tramps by

I the way; sufficing to say that the desired haven was

reached at last, and the used-up Cook — neglectful of
his duty, and taking time only to swallow the dose ad-
misistered him by the commiserating medicus — flung
himself down among the blankets,' seeking oblivion in
sleep. He woke some two hours later with headache
nearly gone, and his professional complacency wholly
so, as, peeping under the tent door, he watched the rest
of the party engaged in preparing a supper, to which
he was soon invited, and compelled to acknowledge as
— no, not better — but at least equal to anything his
skill had hitherto evolved.

Next morning, we awoke to find Louis scanning the
hazy sky and shimmering water with an anxious mien
that, under the circumstances of what appeared to us a
charming day, seemed inexplicable; but his quiet re-
mark: "tink we go back," we unquestioningly took
as a command, and prepared to pack up and get off,
as we: had no wish to be either becalmed or storm-
stayed. We breakfasted, broke camp, loaded up, and
were off by eight o'clock on our long, and, as it proved,
miserable return voyage.

How the sun beat on that long, two-hours' drift that
K scarcely took us a mile from shore, it were well to for-

get in the cheerful sound of the water falling away from
the bows as we cut through the waves that quickly rose
under a tidy breeze that suddenly followed the calm !
The helping breeze dropped as quickly as it came and
left us pounding about in the cross-chops of the "Rond-

THE ENCHANTING HILLS OF MYSTERY.

du-Mer" in mid-channel, almost out of sight of land
on either shore; while old Neptune took toll of the
cargo that some of the party were sure they had, this
time, stowed away fast and safe. Then an ominous
lowering to windward caused Louis to get into his oil-
skins and shorten sail, while we prepared ourselves and
our mackintoshes to receive what might come. It
came — rain in sheets — borne on a squall that drove us
ahead into the grey unknown where the compass alone
pointed the way, which the melancholy tattoo of the rain-
drops, beaten upon the taut canvas, did not serve to
enliven. Presently, the wind left us to the pity of the
fog! and rain; and, when the fog left us to the sole
mercy of the rain, we saw through the drizzle the dim
outlines of the nearing shore to which we were bound ;
but our hearts fell when Louis informed us that the
particular point of it he had hoped to reach was ten
miles away, dead to windward, and that our only hope
of making it was to take to the "wooden sails" and
get closer in-shore within reach of a favoring evening
shore-breeze! Here was exercise we had not bar-
gained for; but, accepting our luck as philosophically
as usual, we comforted ourselves, as we took turnst at
the long sweeps, in the thought that it was at least
warming to our chilled, wet skins. After a spell of
this galley work — which seemed hours long — the shore
breeze caught us from the favorable quarter, and we
skimmed along in smooth water, close in, lit our pipes,
and congratulated ourselves that we were well on the
way for home and dry clothes, only to find the wind
again fail us while yet some five miles from our des-
tination ! " Get out tlie oars !" rang out the Commo-
dore's command, in weak and liquid tones. But

70 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

instead of the customary, ready "ay, ay, sir!" he was
greeted with, " not much, we're going ashore to finish
this cruise in a hay-cart !" Rank nuinity^ this, and
provocative of dire penalty; but, fortunately, trouble
was averted by Louis' cheerful announcement: "good
breeze come!" which, sure enough, did, in liberal mea-
sure; while the rain ceased and we made the best going
of the day in a bee-line for the lighthouse at our harbor
mouth. This we won with ease, tied up to our moor-
ings just as dark was closing in, and hurried for shelter
and dry clothing. The latter having been donned, a
prescription not in his Pharmacopeia insisted upon by
the Chief of Staff and taken with a little Havana flavor-
ing, it was thought that the party were in a proper
mood to be catechised by sympathetic friends respect-
ing net results to show for time, trouble, and expense.
When these were truthfully tabulated and announced
as two salmon, twelve trout, ten plover and one duck,
contempt broke forth in sarcasm or lurked in the curl
of lip where words failed. What argument should pre-
vail against such a point of view, or of what avail to
lay bare the hidden things of the Craft, and the chas-
tened joys we treasured as abiding memories of our
trip, to the indifferent and uncomprehending Philis-
tine? We, therefore, held our peace respecting these;
and, as we viewed the white-capped, storm-tossed face
of old St. Lawrence that for days held to the ill-humor
we had so fortunats^ly escaped, we reflected, with the
serenity of the initiated, that in pursuit of the delights
promised all faithful votaries of our Cult there are off-
setting trials which, rightly vie\ved,but serve to enhance
the pleasures that far outweigh the pains. Thus re-
flecting, we could not but believe that, even to the un-

THE ENCHANTING HILLS OF MYSTERY. 71

tutored in the deep things of the Mystic Rite, there
must come from their experience of Life a knowledge
of its hard, uneven way; and we, allowed ourselves the
hope, that, permitting themselves to come under the
sway of the Brotherhood, tliey, too, might learn from the
practice of its ritual to philosophically accept the rough
with the smooth on every path, and find, after all, that,
once trodden in this spirit, the way is not as rough as
it appears at starting, and, the journey done, that the
recollection of the smooth and easy travelling it affords
alone remains.

si
s

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

HOW their memories come crowding as one stops
a moment to think amid the whirl of work-a-day affairs!
Halcyon Days, truly, clouded though some were, cold
and wet others, yet all brimming with delights that
cheer and hearten as they come trooping in review !

Shall we mark that as one of the dark days, Don
Carlos, Thanksgiving Day, though it was, too, when
you beguiled me from my first love, my lissome rod,
and won me to a passing notice of your lusty-voiced,
compelling gun? You remember, don't you, how the
fates lured us to the Siren-haunted Islands of Lake
St. Francis that autumn day? How cold it was in the
early dawn when we went to meet the guides and boats
that failed to keep their engagements? How tantalizing
to see the ducks in great flocks at quite a safe distance?
Did we not in desperation assail the boathouse-keeper's
hold and despoil him of a craft wherein we loaded de-
coys, guns, and our three shivering selves, and started
on our independent, conquering way ? Wasn't the
water cold as it splashed over us and froze in falling,
and weren't you mad enough to blow the whole flock
of decoys we had set out so carefully and so painfully
into little bits because in their wooden perverseness
they wouldn't decoy at all ? And then that poor, lone
straggler we almost ran down, and each fired two barrels
at ! It was a very dead duck, of course, and I remem-
ber both you and William each insisted you had killed
it, while I never once doubted, and still think, mine

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

was the fatal shot. Let it pass, however, and perish,
too, the recollection of his funeral expenses, for the
memory of that duck is very dear.

A very different kind of day was that Dominion Day
when Mac, having fired my imagination with glowing
tales of the; wondrous bass-fishing to be had in these
same waters, persuaded me to re-visit them under other
conditions. One great difference was some loo de-
grees of temperature, but in results there was little to
choose, though we had an experienced guide, a good
boat, lots of "bait," and fine weather. The fish were
there, that I know, because Mac caught one — about as
big as his hand — and we had a fine day's fishing,
though we got no more fish. There's nothing truer
to the appreciative mind than that the fish arel the
least part of the fishing. Did we not have a glorious
outing under the bluest of skies upon the fairest of
waters within sound of the voice of the great Giant of
the North, that became a roar as our boat shot through
the swirl and foam of the rapid where he turned and
tossed in his narrow, rocky bed ? And music, too, of
the sweetest and best, from nature's own choristers. I
never heard such a storm of sweet sounds as the birds
gave us that day as we lay at anchor in the swift current
that swept past their island aviary. Even if one were
versed in bird lore, which I am not, it were scarcely
possible to distinguish the parts of the different singers,
but as true artists they poured forth their melodious
notes in a burst of rapturous music that was a revela-
tion to me; for it is a curious fact that in the heart of
the wild woods, where my way has mostly led me, there
is a solemn and oppressive stillness, broken only by the
6

' V

r (

74 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

foot-fall or rattle of wheel on the rough bush road, and

a singing bird is a rara avis indeed.

Those were days to be marked with an exclamation
point, when, in the long ago, the Seigneur invited me
and his other friend, the China man — not so named
because he is a Chinaman, or a\ man of china, but as
short for " Man-in-the-China-tea-trade," — to accom-
pany him on one of his infrequent visits to stir up his
distant and procrastinating censitaires and incidentally
to enjoy some trout fishing in his domain. It is a typi-
cal French-Canadian fishing settlement and dates from
the days of the French Regime, when it was raided by
the British in one of their ascents up the river. Our
mode of reaching it was by courtesy of the steamship
line stopping their boat to land us in the waiting fish-
ing smack arranged for weeks before. This uncertamty
was only surpassed by that of our getting away, when
we lay outside the harbor all night in the same open,
fish-smelling boat, with the rolling swell and the blow-
ing of the grumpus about^ us in the fog as a lullaby,
and the fear of the steamer passing us as an antidote
to keep us awake. We had novel experiences
among primitive folk, watched the fleet go and return
with the toll of the sea; saw the cod in its various
stages of fresh to salted, and smelt the smells compared
to which those of famed Cologne would seem as of
" Araby the blest." We got trout, too, as the record
and memory tell, but, alas, as so often happens to
fishermen, the biggest was lost ! It may not be
charged, however, in this instance, that " one can't lose
what one never had," for we certainly had this one, as
he seems now, without actual scale register, of a great

fit§fllflifiiilfiui0ifm*^ »■ I myi m m%\im im»mf'<r^'''' \'»'' *i ''»'' ' ^m ^'f^'^-^--

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

many pounds weight ! We got him among a number
of other fine trout in one of the most exciting three
hours' fishing that I can recall — having been fortunate
that day in coming upon a large ** school" in the shal-
lows of a lake which took our object lessons and whip-
pings in such good part that we became acknowledged
masters of the whole academy but lost our best pupil
out of the buckboard on the way home!

In this itinerary of flying trips from home or dis-
tant headquarters, when the rule was to " travel light"
and dispense with all superfluous camp equipage and
seek such sleeping shelter as the neighborhood aiTord-
ed, it may not seem such a far cry from Gaspe's cliffs
to the Laurentian fastnesses, where countless crystal
lakes nestle amid the forest-wrapped, eternal hills that
compose the vertebrae of the world's backbone. It was
with anticipation sharpened to a fine point that our
small but enthusiastic party took their first steps into
this unknown land of promise from the train that had
screwed and" burrowed its tortuous, upward way to the
" height of land," and walked into the open arms — or
maw — of our waiting " guide.' There be guides and
guides, boatmen, teamsters, and bush-whackers, and
it makes all the difference in the pleasure of a fishing
trip what kind you may be blessed with — or othei-wise.
Some guides are born so — all good ones arc — and some
achieve their opportunity by the force of circumstances,
and the necessities of sporting-goods-cmi)orium-made,
record-breaking, pot-hunters. We tried to classify
ours as we peered into the deeps of a forest of red whis-
kers that a Highland gillie might be proud of; but the
clamor of shrill patois as he loaded our rod-cases, our

t r \

|1''

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

p^rips, and ourselves into his buckboard 1)^' the side ot
the httle, station and whirled us off into the darkness
of a country road in the direction of his home by ihe
lake, sonic three or four miles awav. served only to
unmistakably indicate his nationality and not at all to
allay our not unreasonable fears of hidden piratical de-
si.G^ns. These were fully dispelled, however, when he
ushered us into the bosom of his sleepinj^f family, and
by the lip^ht of a stable lantern dimly burning we; saw,
amid the secminj^^ly innumerable heads and Ici^s, a great
mound of fifteen or twenty double loaves of bread piled
on the kitchen table, which he informed us was ** ma-
dame's" semi-weekly baking- for the sustenance of the
aforesaid pledges of good-will and pillars of Church
and State. If we were to be incarcerated , we should
not be starved, at any rate; and we subsequently proved
that it was very good bread — better than any I had
ever had in any " French-Country" farm-house — and
that madame's reputation in the countryside as a baker
of the first class was w'ell founded. The sleeping ac-
commodations were good enough, and sufficient to
allow of us having exclusive use of them — two in a
bed — and in the morning sunliglit things looked more
promising, if no cleaner. This day we tried the lake,
beside which we found ourselves dropped, with indif-
ferent success, coming ashore for dinner, but the next
we planned to drive ofif to another, some few miles
away among the hills, and again enjoy the old delight
of being alone in the woods, some distance from any-
where, and at the same time test the merits of a small,
portable, aluminium camp cooking outfit the writer
had taken some pains and much pride in bringing to
a state that, in^ view of the results hoped for, and at-

'. M

"'^^iMify'fi*""'''','"

HIGH DAYS AND HOLH)AYS.

tained, may be put down as perfection. We made sure
of somethinj^l" to eat by taking along the usual supply
of bacon, potatoes, bread, tea, and the "etceteras," and
hoped for the trout ! Our spirits were as high as our
hopes as we drove along the road that wound and
climbed around lakes' and over hills from whose tops
other and more distant lakes might be discerned sil-
vering the wondrously beautiful landscape. We came
suddenly upon a scene, however, that caused a jar amid
the sylvan peace. It was a matter of a dispute between
neighbors about some strayed cattle; but, from the
numbers — of men and women — actively engaged, and
the children holding on to one another among the fence-
rails, intently, fearfully, if passively, concerned, and the
noise, gesticulation, and threatening demeanor of the
disputants, it seemed as if nothing less than an incipient
revolution was a-foot, and the presence of troojis an
inmiediate necessity. Not a blow was struck, in all
the time we cared to stay and look on, and we left satis-
fied that there would not be ! It's a way they have,
and the scene was characteristic of the people to a
degree. We soon reached the particular lake for
which we were bound — Lac La Croix, of ominous
name — turned our nag loose, "cached" our provisions,
jointed our rods, took to our boats, and — began to fish?
Not yet. Some wandering cattle were observed in
dangerous proximity to our hidden provender, and we
put back to make it more secure; and any doubts we
may have had as to the taste of cattle for strange food
were set at rest as we reached the spot. Our guide
had left his coat ashore, and, by way of appetizer, or
grace before meat, a wanton calf had devoured one
half of it ! This may be as. hard for the reader to swal-

78 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

low as it must have been for tlie calf; we did not see
liim do it, hut we did see the coat minus' sleeves and
tails; and, from a subsequent episode which we did
see, have no doubt where the missinj^ parts went to,
as will be shown further on. We ap^ain took to the
boats. We fished. We whipped that lake till it must
have smarted under our vig'orous lashings as our faces
did under tlie broilinp;' sun, and the too close attentions
of the mos(iuitos, but we j^^ot no fish — not even a rise!
ThisI was but " fisherman's luck," and we fell back on
the philosophy of the Craft, and our more sul)stantial
eatables. Here it was our f^uide shone. He could,
at least, make a fire? but if we didn't "do the rest," we
showed him how, for what he didn't know about camp
cookitifi;- vvould take more space to tell than we can
spare here. He ate till he couldn't stand — hardly 5-it
up, in fact — and when we sucrcfested washing the dishes
to pack away clean in their box he proposed taking
them back as they were for his maid-of-all-work, at the
farm, to attend to ! This completed the missing link
respecting his name and class, and "Joseph de la Bou-
tonniere" we dubbed him on the spot. Our Philan-
thropist mumbled something about "cruelty to animals"
wlien, after the usual pipe — the "washing up" having
been duly insisted upon and done after a fashion — we
proposed a final tour of the lake. Notwithstanding
his rattling manipulation of the oars — perhaps because
of it — w^e again " got no fish, not even a rise !" We
put ashore, gathered our traps, and prepared to leave
withj this unique record; but we had not proved con-
clusively the capabilities of the locality for unusual sen-
sations .Our outfit had been placed beside a rail fence,
and a large, coarse cloth, used in our culinary ablutions.

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

thrown over it. Our four- footed, vealy friend had
come to the barrier to see us off, spied the dish cloth,
and, with the vivid recollections of his unfinished meal
off the coat, seized the cloth in his mouth. The
writer sprang" over the rails to the rescue, but before
he could reach it the yard of linen had disappeared
with a crash down the throat of that voracious calf !
To this spectacular curtain drop, it is but fair to add,
by way of prologue, that we w^ere not deterred frojn
again trying our luck in the same district at a later
and more propitious season; and fortune so favored us
that we are of a mind, Joseph and the calf and the
mosquitos to the contrary notwithstanding, to repeat
our visit at the most convenient opportunity.

And what shall we say of the pleasant days spent in
enjoying the hospitality of the genial New Yorker in
his luxurious " Camp Comfort" By-the-Lake ? Is not
the spot among the bright landmarks of youthful mem-
ories long before our friend acquired his fishing rights
that he enjoys so thoroughly and shares so freely in
his annual Northern outings ? Have we not often
waded up to our short middle making a tour of the
lake, and captured many a well-filled creel, when it
was a sort of no-man's-water in the midst of almost
impenetrable bush ; and do we not know every shoal
and bay where a rise may be looked for as well as the
Lord of the Manor himself ? Was it not here, or on
the nearby water of mine host of the Sea View, at
Macnider, that, with infinite labor, we took, and
thought we had secured, such fine kodak views of
" Landing a fish," " Shooting a duck," camp and boat

I ;

- -^^^^satWKMMiM^MtMi

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

scenes in which our friends and ourselves figured pro-
minently in the star parts, only to find on taking them
to be developed on our return to the city that we had
forgotten to turn the key after snapping the shutter
and that all wore superimposed one on top of the
other !

• 1

And that day when our Jehu dropped us from his
buckboard below Tartagou Falls and we started in to
wade down the river tq its mouth, where we were to
meet the team and enjoy our well-earned lunch in, as
we thought, about three hours ! If " it's a long lane
that has no turning," it's a longer river that turns and
doubles on itself every few yards, and has to be waded
evef foot of the way that, fiom the Falls to the sea,
as the crow flies, is only a matter of a mile or two.
After about six hours of plunging into deep holes, and
skipping from one slippery foothold to another along
our unknown way, wd began to think the end should
be near, and dragged our water-logged persons to the
top of the high bank to reconnoitre. As we found we
had only covered about half the bee-line distance, we
concluded we had had enough of the water route, as
well as trout, and struck across lots in the direction
of more filling entertainment, only to be forced to take
shelter under the trees from the deluge of water poured
upon us from the thunder-storm that had long been
threatening, audi which effectually soaked any remain-
ing dry spots about us that the river had spared. The
wet and the dry are both encountered in the pursuit of
other things beside trout; and it is well if we can learn
to take each as it comes, and console ourselves with

3WiS<Ba

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

the thought that in the working out of the law of com-
pensation it is easily possible to take comfort in sim-
ply getting dry after being wet.

A narrow commercial soul might decide that it
"wouldn't pay" to hire a team, drive 25 miles, stay
over night, drive back in inky blackness, and arrive at
our quarters at midnight, half blind with sleep and
fatigue, on the chance of getting a dozen of sea trout;
but the Doctor and the Philosopher are not of this
mould, and, with the Scribe, have done it more than
once, and would, no doubt, as gladly do it again as he.
Wouldn't the Doctor's fashionable patients have been
edified to see him roll up a disreputable pair of nether
garments above his knees, wade out among the sea-
weed after a plover he had shot and finally remove them
altogether in his determination to secure it; the writer,
meanwhile, being engaged, partly in laughing and
partly in persuading the refractory steed scared by the
shot not to carry out his evident intention to start for
home and leave! the shooter and his waving signals
stranded on the beach ! Their defection would be cer-
tain were he to compound for them the prcscrii)tion he
concocted from the materials supplied by our kind-
hearted host as an " eye-opener" for oui early morning
trial of the fishing. We found the eggs and milk laid
out on the table in true angler's style, but the Doctor
not knowing, or forgetting, that the whisky — which is
not part of our stores — is usually supplied from the
fisherman's private flask and is essential to the com-
pletion of the potion, mixed it without this and drank
it off ! The effect was instantaneous and complete,

IHiTgl'iHiiri liii

H W MW 'W i

82 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

and wb ;n wc last met lie declared the memory and the
taste wti 2 with him still. We found our compensation
in the tishing, for, notwithstanding^ some little inter-
ruption caused by tang-lcd lines, and the removal of
hooks switched painfully into inconvenient parts of
ourselves and our boatman, we got some nice sea trout.
Our boatman, too, afforded and provided both inter-
esting study and entertainment. Though one short of
his full con^plement of legs, his arms and his wit serve
well the purposes of his calling, and make him a favor-
ite with the anglers on the river. His father was
French, and his mother is as broad Scotch, and he him-
self is, consequently, not always sure of his English.
In that tongue, he would be called Campbell, his
mother calls him Cawmell, and his French neighbors
call him Camme//e ; sLud after he had crammed us with
I blood-curdling tales of devouring sharks, angry por-

poises, blowing grampuses, and swash-buckling whisky-
smugglers — not to speak of wondrous salmon and
trout caught when we were not there — we were dis-
posed to call him Munchausen, but forebore for the
pleasure he gave us.

There is a shrine in the heart of the primeval woods
that stretch in pathless solitude from the last conces-
sion of Macnider on to the fringe of civilization that
reaches out in greeting from the State of Maine, where
dw^ells the fair Neigette. True lovers must they be to
endure the rough country roads, rougher bush roads,
and no roads at all, that for thirty-five miles and ten
long hours must echo to the rumble of wheel or tramp
of weary feet before the pilgrim may lay down pack

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

and staff beside the lake where stands her rough-hewn
bower.

"Tho' the way be dreary,
Sad the day and long,
Still there conies at evening,
Love's own sweet song."

We heard faint echoes of it as we drove along the
banks of the lovely winding river that here flowed pent
between high bluffs, or there widened out into smiling
meadow, locally known as " La Grande Moue," because
in time of freshet completely submerged and left by the
falling waters a vast, boggy flat. Its cheery notes sus-
taincdi us in our long climb up the endless hills where
our way led us past hamlet and farm and bleak country
church-yard, till, the summit gained, we drew deep
breaths of 'satisfaction and delight in viewing the glo-
rious panorama of valley and hill and forest spread
for miles around. It was with us in clearer tones as
we turned our backs on the " last house" and plunged
into and among the stumps of the rough shanty road
that for seven long miles led to our goal. In walking
ahead of the noisy calvacade, one might catch a glint
through distant vistas of what, to his imagination,
seemed the shimmer of the elusive sprite's gossamer
robe, and to his leaning ear might faintly come the
seductive call of her siren voice, only to find on nearer
approach but a beam of sunlight filtering through the
whispering leaves and spruce-tops. The song swept
about us and wrapped; us round in sweet content and
care-free peace as the oars slipped into the unrufifled
surface of the water and we glided out into the lake

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

from the landing and feasted our eyes on the double
picture of tree and sky reflected therein in the gathering
twilight. It hummed a cheerful accompaniment to the
clattering and sizzling that aimounced the preparation
of hospitable viands in the camp cuisine^ punctuated
the pauses in our guide's recitals of his lonely experi-
ences as a trapper and hunter in these same wilds in
k^ng winter days and nights; and lulled us to dreams,
blanket-wrapped, in our bunks filled with aromatic,
sltep-compelling, balsam boughs. What cared we to
hear about the five-pound trc;ut caught by others, or
to sec the actual measure with which his twenty-three
iuches were recorded as proof positive ? Did we not
take more than we could eat, and as many as we cared
to carry back — a goodly number of them from one and
a half to two pounds weight? Had wc not the joy
four happy, unclouded days alone with a mistress whose
charms never pall; and were we not content to accept
the drenching ram that accompanied us every foot of
the seven miles back to the roadside farm-house where
dry clothing was possible as the weeping farewell of
our woodland fay whose song was choked with her
tears ? To-morrow's joy shall banish to-day's regret,
v,'e thought, as the bright afterrxon sun stayed with us
all the way back till he dropped to rest behind the
Laurentian Hills on the North Shore, and we kept
on to seek ours beneath the midnight stars that sen-
tinelled our temporary summer home.

Let these reminiscences close with the record of
One Day, at Macnider, whereon the Pork-man, the
Paper-man, the Pill-man, and the Penman, with the

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

two Workingmen, Johnny and Isidore, had novel ex-
periences and caught strange fish. It was a fine day,
too, as I recall it, and we had arranged for a flying trip
to the unfrequented back " concessions" by the station.
After) an early breakfast, our waiting buckboards
are headed East, and, turning off at the post-of^ce, we
strike straight back and make for the "height of land"
which we reach after a laborious pull, then again turn
to the West along the narrow "concession" road,
brushing off the morning dew from the overhanging
foliage, and startling a stray hare that has come out
to sun himself. Presently our guide exclaims : "ZV/^,
m'ssieiis, c'est V place ici ! " and we pull up at the door
of his friend's farm-house. Here information as to our
farther progress is obtained, and permission given —
for a stipulated consideration per rod rigorously exacted
by the habitanfs faithful help-meet who guarded the
gateway to this land of (uncertain promise and cash
payment — to drive over the farm road (?) along which
we carefully pick our way, jolting over the corduroy
and stones, and dodging the stumps that thickly strew
the edge of the path, monuments of departed greatness.
We drive as far as we can, or rather walk alongside,
chafing the poor martyrs pilloried on the buckboards
who were elected to pilot the crafts. Then unhitching
the horses and turning them loose in the pasture, we
don our tramping boots, and shouldering the divided
load, we begin our tramp of a mile or so to the margin
of the lake. The lily-pads and rushes that here and
there appear look promising spots to throw a fly at,
but the extreme smallness of the sheet of water causes
ua to be scq:)tical of the results, seeing which, our
mentor hastens to reassure us : " crain ^pas, vi'ssiejis —

86 TENT, ROD AND PEN.

craifi 'pas, ly a beaucoup dpeches en dedans,'' to which
we respond by making' preparations for the attack.
One of the party, who has a penchant for that sort of
work, starting to wade, is quickly dissuaded from that
mode of warfare by nearly sinking out of sight in the
soft, deceptive bottom, and, in the absence of boats,
there is nothing for it but to make that friend of ship-
v\ recked mariners — a raft. The remains of one that
had been used by the " natives " was discovered and
quickly repaired, poles cut, and the Pill-man and the
Penman, with Johnny, launched out upon it, leaving
the Pork-man and the Paper-man to wait till another
could be put together by their man Isidore. The ease
with which this was done, with nothing but an axe to
cut down the logs, which are fastened together by
witlies of the slender branches of trees, supplemented
by the more prosaic four and six-inch nails we had
brought along for the purpose, would have been an
object lesson of admiration had we not had other mat-
ters to attend to. To one not accustomed to this mode
of navigation, the task of making the circuit of a lake
on a small raft of logs, in the face of quite a little
breeze, with no better propelling power than a long
I sapling, and having to look after a rod and line of

your own, and at the same time have due regard to

your neighbor's, lest a careless step sliould spoil -.he

prospects of a day's peace, would appear well calculated

' to make one pause. But a few attempts soon found

( us sailing along as unconcernedly as an Ottawa rafts-

i! man, and coming to a likely spot near a shoal, we drop

our stone ancbor, jam our poles down through the
j logs to steady her, and begin operations. Intent on

the excellent success attending these, we are not aware

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

of the invader advancing to storm our retreat; but an
unusual commotion at the end of the lake near which
we then chanced to be caused the trio, on our raft to
cast enquiring and anxious glances in the direction of
the noise. " Great Isaak Walton, ladies ! A pic-nic
here, of all places !" we impatiently exclaimed — and
went on with our fishing ! As we had the only avail-
able crafts, gallantry would dictate that we should, at
least, make formal tender of these; but our wrath was
high against the guardienne at the gate permitting so
many more to pass where the resources were already
fully taxed that, each waiting for the other raft-party
to do their duty, and both satisfied that pic-nics could
better be held on dry land than aboard wet rafts, no
move was made by either of us — and the fishing pro-
ceeded ! From the sounds of chopping and splashing,
however, that soon reached our ears, it dawned upon
us that it was trout, not tea and cake, the new-comers
had in view, and that the "guide"(?) was actually build-
ing a raft ! To this proceeding we could take no valid
objection; and, as we supposed he knew his business
as well as our men did theirs, we gave the matter no
further thought beyond observing that in due time the
three ladies, with their escort, "guide," and entire para-
phernalia of lunch-baskets, shawls, and rods, were
launched and coming our way ! We were startled
from our equanimity, however, as a cry for " Help !''
rang across the water, and we saw at once there was
trouble, likely to be very serious, if we could' not get
to their assistance speedily, as their raft was going to
pieces ! Shouting to " keep cool!" we threw down our
rods, tore up anchor and poles embedded in several
feet of soft mud, and put to the rescue as rapidly as

W WIi Ui— * «

;' i

TENT, ROD AND PFN.

our ungainly crafts could be forced through the water
by our united efforts. We were none too soon, as the
logs of their raft — quite inadequate for the "purpose,
and merely tacked together with shingle nails by their
stupid man — were parting company, and the whole
party in imminent danger of being engulfed in the lake
and its more treacherous bottom of soft mud. One cf
the ladies, in fact, was actually in the water and onlv
supported by the floating logs, but all, with their escort,
were cool and plucky — the shining example to ihe
contrary being their un-handy man. All were soon
transferred to our two rafts and put safely ashore, when
the ladies proposed to at once start for home, some
eight miles away. To this we demurred, pointing out
the risk, and profcrring the hospitality of our camp-
fire for drying purposes, and the resources of our larder,
tea-kettle, and bottle of "pain-killer" as preventives
against taking cold. These being accepted, we pro-
ceeded to do what we could in the way of entertaining
our unexpected guests. A roaring fire was quickly
started, the kettle boiled, and a jorum of hot " pain-
killer," water and sugar, as the best medicine available,
handed to each of the shipwrecked as they stood round
the fire drying their wet clotliing. Fish were cleaned,
bacon sliced, and both turned over to Johnny's experi-
enced hands and fr>'ing-pan. Potatoes were boiled,
tea made, bread and butter prepared, canned peaches
opened, and all were soon engaged in what, to us, vvas
a matter of fact, but which our visitors declared to be
a novel and pleasing experience, quite off-setting thvHr
first cool reception. It seemed a wise precaution to
take, however, before setting out on the long, home-
ward drive; and we were pleased to learn that no ill

HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS.

effects followed the accident, or our remedial treatment
of it. Dinner over, our guests departed, the " table"
cleared away and the dishes washed, we stretched our-
selves under the trees, for the quiet enjoyment of the
usual after-dinner smoke before continuing our inter-
rupted fishing during what remained of the afternoon,
until the time should arrive when we, too, must pack
up and return home. We come ashore at last, tho-
roughly satisfied with a splendid catch. The fish are
taken from the creels and spread out on the grass under
the trees, and, as they lie all mixed up together, hot
disputes arise as to who caught the big ones. These
settled — or temporarily suspended — the fish are
" douched" in the lake, and carefully laid in the baskets,
with ferns and grass about them — needless to say, the
big ones not at the bottom — then, shouldering our
leads, which are heavier than when we started, we
begin our homeward journey. We are pretty well
tired out, and the lonely drive in the deepening twi-
light is not conducive to hilarity. But soon the lights
of the- village loom in sight, and we straighten up, tickle
our flagging steeds, and bring up at the hotel door
with as much style as our dilapidated appearance will
permit. The fish-baskets, of course, are produced, duly
inspected, and commented on according to the idio-
syncrasies of each. The young ladies : " Poor little
things !" The " other fellows" : " Lucky dogs !" The
papas and mammas: ''What a nice breakfast we'll have
to-morrow — thank you so much !" Mine host, taking
his cue from the latter : " Hope you will go again soon!"
To which we reply : " SO SAY WE ALL !"

HOW TO MAKE A FLY-ROa

ARE you a fisherman ? I don't mean by this a p^rand-
mastcr in the p^entle art, but arc you, even as the writer,
in the humblest way a disciple of the Craft? Have you
been a learner only lon^ enough to discover the won-
derful fascinations it offers to all who once enter its
mysteries, proving their devotion by life-long service?
Do you feel the stirrings of emotion as you think of
the delightful spots you have visited in your search
for the scaled and spotted water-sprites; the happy
hours spent in camp, canoe, or skiff; in imagination
drinking again brimming draughts of Nature's tonic
fresh from her fountains deep in the solemn woods ?
Do your fingers tingle with appreciation as you handle
the plumed and gilded lures that hang light as thistle-
down on the fairy films that bind them to the polished
wand, bright as the lance of knight-errant of old, and
does your heart respond to the silvery music the whir-
ring reel sings in your delighted ear ?

If you possess any of the spirit that animated the
gentle Isaak Walton, and now breathes in a, multitude
of followers in his foot-steps; if you know a good rod
when you see and handle it, and believe, or will take my
word for it, that one made by ycur own hands, that you
have seen develop imder your own eyes by your own
wor'^, is productive of many times more enjoyment than
the very finest you can get, simply by doing as others
do — buying it; if you have but an ordinary knowledge
of tools and how to use them, and are possessed of the

HOW TO MAKE A FLY-ROD.

stick-to-it-ivcness necessary to carry you tliroujT^h your
self-imposed labor of love, then you arc in the mood to
listen to a few friendly hints from an amateur possibly
no better qualified than you to do what he has done,
and now proposes to his brother anglers to attempt.

The first essential requisite in a trout lunch is, of
course, trout — the better the trout the better the lunch.
The first thing required in making a rod is the wood —
the better the wood the better the rod ; and for this it
is advisable to apply to some reliable dealer in fishing
stock for good, selected, seasoned material, even if you
have to pay a little more for the choice. As to the kind
of wood, the many varieties of fancy woods suitable for
the purpose may be narrowed down to two — Lance wood
and Greenhart. In the opinion of experts, both hold
high, if not equal, rank, my own taste leading me to
choose Greenhart on account of the handsome graining
and rich warm color when polished. The prime essen-
tial, however, is, that the pieces selected should, vvhen
worked down to tho proper size for the joints, stand a
severe test of bending by resting one end on the ground
and pushing down the other to form a bow, holding in
this position for some seconds, and then suddenly re-
leasing the tension. If the recoil is swift and steel-like,
and no departure from the straight is apparent, your
wood is first-class, provided, of course, it is also free
from knots and sudden cross grains.

We will suppose that it is desired to make a rod of
the ideal standard — 8 to lo oz. in weight, and lo^^ to
II ft. long. Excessive lightness on the one hand is
as undesirable as too great length on the other — 'back-
bone' and elasticity within reasonable limits are the
essentials to be aimed at — hence the judgment of most

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

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1.0

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^ 1^ 12.0

■ 2.5

■■■

11.25

1.8

U IIIIII.6

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TENT, ROD AND PEN.

«i

I nickel-plated,

anglers would fix the standard at about the figures
named, though rods weighing only 4^ oz. and 9 ft. in
length are in use and highly praised by their admirers.

It cannot be too strongly insisted upon that in rod-
making, as in fishing tackle of all kinds, your materials
should be of the best, and any striving for cheapness
avoided as you would the plague — better buy a rod for
two or three dollars and have done with it.

The materials required to make a rod of the standard
named above, which may be procured of any reputable
dealer at a cost of about four dollars, are as follows : —

1 piece of greenhart, l| in. square and 3 ft. 9 in. long for butt.

middle.

*• tips.
Reel seat (below hand),
mated ferrule, without \

dowel (capped, welt- > for butt,
ed and water-proof,) )

" middle,
entering ferrule, for extra tip.
\ doz. No. 3, I doz. No. 2, 2 doz. No. I Rings and Keepers,

(more than required, but useful for repairs).

2 nickel-plated single ring tops.

1 ** W in. winding check.

2 " solid metal stoppers for ferrules.
I pot Best liquid glue, or Russian Cement.

I small bottle best coach body varnish.
I " varnishing brush.

I loo-yds. spool. No. A, best scarlet machine silk.
I sheet each, fine and extra fine sand-paper.
10 yds. Good line for winding hand grasp, colour to fancy.
\ lb. each, powdered pumice stone and rotten stone.

The possession of the necessary tools, work-bench, etc ,
is, of course, assumed, and expense in purchasing these
cannot fairly be charged to the cost of making the
rod.

in «<

HOW TO MAKE A FLY-ROD.

And now to work; commencing with the butt piece,
which you will plane down clean and true to a square
slightly more than seven-eighths (^) of an inch. Mark
off 13 inches from one end to form the butt or handle
at which point the diameter is to suddenly diminish to
that of the small end of thd winding check, and con-
tinue to evenly diminish on a true taper to the small
end where the ferrule is fastened. To guide you in
reaching this result, take the ferrule and mark its circle
exactly in the centre of the wood, andl plane it down
square in a diminishing diameter, say from half an inch
at the handle to three-eighths at the small end, taking
care to plane all sides equallv so that the diminished
size of the rod will spring true from the centre of he
butt and taper equally on all sides down to that of the
ferrule end. It may, be necessary to use your wood-
file in working close to the handle where even a small
plane cannot well be used. To avoid the strain of
planing in the usual way against a bench plug, bore a
hole each way through the butt three-quarters to one
inch from the end, drive a pin, made of a strong wire
nail with the head filed off, in your bench, drop the
wood on to this and plane from this hold-fast. Use
this method with all the pieces, and cut off the inch of
wood with the holes in it when you set the entering
ferrules and the reel-seat. After getting down the
wood in the square to the proper size, allowing for the
final scraping, plane the corners off and bring it to a
true octagon, then file and scrape to a perfect round
— the handle to a size that will allow the reel-seat to be
slipped on when ready to glue, and the ferrule end to
a diameter that will permit the ferrule being set in
place flush with the wood. You can make a good

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

scraper by taking" a bit of broken saw or other flat
piece! of steel, and, with a rat-tail file, filinp^ on its
straight edge three half-circles corresponding to the
diameters of the rod at the juncture of the handle, the
large ends of the middle joint, and the tips, respective-
ly. These three sizes will give you all you want to
use on the rod, and if filed true and held at the proper
scraping angle, you have a most useful and handy tool.
After scraping down to a perfect round (which may be
facilitated in the final stages by imparting a rotary
motion to the joint held in one hand while scraping
with the other), of the proper size to fit the reel-seat,
the winding check, and the ferrules, set these in place,
cutting off the surplus inch with the holes in the butt,
and fittting with g'lue. Use care and patience in filing
the shoulders of the rod equally all round, so that the
ferrule will set true and straight, and placing it no
further on the wood than will allow the ferrule of the
second joint to enter to its full extent without striking
the end of the butt piece.

Proceed now to plane down the second joint, from
you, by using the pin instead of butting it against any
thing, in a true diminishing taper in the square, from
the diameter of the entering ferrule at the large end,
to that of the receiving ferrule at the other, then bring
it to a perfect octagon and scrape to the round. Cut
off the surplus inch with the holes, fit and glue the
ferrules true and flush with the wood, carefully setting
them so that they will lie straight with the line of the
joint, the^ receiving ferrule in proper position to admit
the entering ferrule of the tip without striking the
wood of the second joint, nor yet leaving a space be-
tween. Treat the tips in the same way, tapering them

► ii^^iti _-',U'',

HOW TO MAivB A FLY-ROD.

from the dianicter of the entering ferrule down to the
insignificant diameter of the top rings, which are not to
be set in place yet. The tips being so light will require
most delicate handling, using your 3-inch plane ad-
justed to the finest possible tissue paper shaving.
Should the joints in planmg take a warp or twist, heat
the part over a gas jet or lamp, and work it back to the
true, where it will likely remain.

Your rod is now ready to joint and put to the cru-
cial test, from which, if you have done your work carc-
fullv. examining every step of the way, planing your
joints and setting your ferrules true, you have every
reason to believe it will emerge to your entire satis-
faction. Jointed together, it should spring from the
centre of the handle at a diameter of fifteen thirty-
seconds (15-32) of an inch and diminish in a perfect
taper to the tip, each ferrule in place in a perfect line
with the rod. Held in the hand at the grasp and tested
with a swaying motion, the action should be even, free
and elastic, and comprise the whole length of the( rod
down to the handle, and when fastened by a line at the
tip and bent its curve should sweep in a graceful, cir-
cular bow., If your rod does all this you may compla-
cently shake hands with yourself and proceed to the
next stage of sand-papering and varnishing.

Sand-paper each joint in turn with the coarser paper
till all uncvennesses are removed, and rub to a high
finish with the very fine, taking care not %o scratch
the polished metal of the ferrules, then rub down vvith
a soft cloth and you are ready for varnishing.

This is the point where your patience will be tried
in waiting for the slow-drying coach varnish to do its
work; you could expedite matters by using the quick-

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

er-drying hard shellac, but at the expense of permanent
exc<^llence and superior hnish ; don't do it.

Pour out a small quantity of varnish in a saucer,
and thin with a few drops of turpentine till it drops
freely from the brush, then apply it evenly in as thin
a coat as you can, just enough to allow of its "flowing*'
quality to show itself and obliterate quickly all traces
of the passing brush marks.

Note this point in varnishing: thin coats, evenly ap-
plied, and plenty of them, allowing one to dry hard
before applying another on top. Observe this rule
and you will go along swimmingly, if slowly; neglect
it and you may have your work to do all over again.

Now tie a string to the metal parts of the joints,
fasten this to a hook and hang them up on a line in a
room free from dust, out of the way of careless hand-
ling, and with plenty of room to allow of free circula-
tion of air about them. Treated in this way, with good
varnish, you ought to be able to apply a fresh coat
every twenty-four hours, but don't do it till the one is
perfectly dry. Apply four or five coats in this way,
and then allow the joints to hang for two or three
days before proceeding to " rub down," which you will
do, first, with pumice stone and water, and then wipe
dry and clean; next with rotton stone and water, to be
afterwards washed oflf and dried; next with dry rotten
stone, and then polish with a soft linen or silk hand-
kerchief till it reflects your satisfied smiles as you finish
this stage of your work.

Allow the pieces to hang for a day or two to tho-
roughly harden the polish, so as to avoid all danger of
" smudging" in the twisting of the joints in the next
piocess of "winding."

HOW TO MAKE A FLY-ROD.

Now joint your rod and test its working, twisting
the ferrules till you find the proper adjustment that will
give the best action and take the truest set, then lay
it on the floor with the ring side uppermost, and make
a scratch fin the varnish where each is to be placed.
Put three on the butt piece — one at the junction of the
ferrule with the wood, and the others equi-distant be-
tween that and the handle; seven on the middle joint —
one at each fernile, and the others equi-distant be-
tween; eight on the tips — one at the ferrule, and the
others at an evenly diminishing distance apart between
that point and the ring top. By placing the rings in
this manner on the tip you better distribute the strain
on its delicate structure, and by placing a ring close to
each ferrule you greatly ease the strain and lessen the
chance of breakage at a point where the danger is al-
ways greatest.

Having marked the places for your rings in a
straight line from the reel-seat to tip, proceed with the
winding, beginning with the hand-grasp.

It is assumed that yoit have learnt that essential to
an angler's training — the " wind" with " invisible fas-
tening" — if not, don't delay, but get hold of it at once;
it is invaluable in neat repairing of broken rods, splic-
ing and ring ^winding, and, while readily learnt from
practical demonstration, is not so easily explained in
the space at command.

Trim down the wood of the handle at the " check,"
so as to make a shoulder to prevent the cord from slip-
ping. Wax the cord you have procured for the hand-
grasp with bee's-wax, and proceed to wind it evenly
and closely round the "grasp" from the check to the
reel-seat, and finish with the invisible fastening. If

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

you use a fine (juality of drab linen line for this pur-
pose, you, can add to the beauty of the '* grasp" very
greatly by winding some of your scarlet silk betwet'n
the turns of the heavy cord.

Now come to the first ring. Wax your spool of
silk lightly throughout with bee's-wax, and re-wind (ii
to another empty one; then, having with a file beveled
tlic end of the keeper to the thinnest possible edge so
as to permit the silk to wind more evenly and readily
to place, fasten the keeper tenif orarily in position by
a turn or two of thread round the half of it further
away from the end at which you begin to wind. Start
the winding a few turns distant from the keeper, and
wind the silk evenly and closely around rod and keeper
up* to where it arches to fit the ring, taking care not to
overlap, then undo your temporary fastening, bend up
the keeper, and continue the winding round the rod
under the arch of the keeper. When you have cover-
ed the short distance occupied by the arch of the
keeper, insert the ring in place and continue the wind-
ing around the other half of keeper and rod, and fasten
at a few turns beyond the end of the keeper!

Do not attempt to wind the silk with one hand
round and round the rod held in the other, but, having
started the winding properly, hold the silk in one hand
and twist the joint round with the other, so as to draw
the silk through the fingers which guide the coils to
their place on the revolving rod.

Continue the winding in the same way with each ring
down to the ring top of the tip, which you will now
cement in position to receive the line from the con-
tiuous straight row of rings you have so carefully
fastened on. Now burnish your windings with some

now TO MAKE A FLY-ROD.

polishing tool — an old tooth-brush handle is as good
ab you can use — to remove any unevenness and pro-
duce a smooth surface, then give a thin coat of varnish,
being careful not to daub the rings, and with a pointed
stick insert a drop of varnish under the keeper. Apply
several coats to liand-grasp and windings, after giving
plenty of time for each to dry, until you have a number
of smooth polished bands around the rod, which, when
liard and dry, will be as firm and binding as metal
circlets.

With the exception of a grooved wood form fitted
to the size of the joints (which you can either make
yourself from a piece of soft wood the length of the
joints, and one and three-quarter inches in diameter,
or buy for a small sum, with a cotton case to slip it
into), your rod is now finished ! and my w ^rd for it, :f
you are what I take you to be, the enhanced pleasure
you will get out of it will more than repay you for all
the trouble, and you will esteem it at a greater value
than one costing many times as much if bought in a
shop.

MM>

^^j!s««y

nnexed

1
I

3 ^ cs E=3 J== x=3 =: r=t =x^ c=x £=3 x=a X

pf^'

Macnider*....
By-the-Sea«

A Tale

(

ii/

rt i * ** \ mi iimii$mutA

ANNEXED.

f^^ ^^ ^^

A TALE OF MACNIDER BY-THE-SEA.

AS an ultra-farhionablc watering-place Macniclcr
cannot as yet be called a pronounced success, though,
much to the regret of its original discoverers, it is fast
achieving the greatness its later-day admirers would
fain thrust upon it. Time was, when the only modes
of reaching and enjoying the delights of its hidden
charms were a hundred-mile drive in primitive con-
veyances from the railway terminus at Riviere du Loup,
or, by securing passage on board a peripatetic schooner
or infrequent steamer from Montreal or Quebec to
brave for days the humors of old Father St. Lawrence
till its rocky headlands loomed up through the fog,
and chance the uncertain landing in successive stages
of pilot-boat, " flat," and hay-cart that finally dumped
its load of boxes, boys and babies at the not too
savory door of one of the patriarchs of tne settlement,
who might, for a consideration, have been persuaded
to '' take in" city boarders. But how those boys and
babies^ did thrive in the tonic air that swept in un-
adulterated sweet saltness among its North-set cliffs,
toyed with the tousled hair on the bare heads, and
tanned the bare legs and feet that had forsworn alle-
giance to the hated badges of an effete civilization, and
kicked up their heels beneath as short an allowance

I. J

104

ANNEXED.

of tattered clothing as a due regard for the proprieties
of even such remote regions might call for. Then,
the face of the Great River had not been furrowed by
the countless tracks of the swift coursers of commerce
that now pound their tireless way back and forth, and
the halibut, the cod, the herring and the porpoise
yielded their tribute to the toll-gatherers of the fishing-
fleet who now huddle by the fires fed by the worm-
eal<^n ribs of their decayed boats, or have long ago
given up their old bones to feed the worms in the old
kirkyard by the manse at L'Anse des Morts. Thcii,
the buckboard of the summer-boarder and pot-hunter
had not invaded the sylvan fastnesses where the spotted
trout hide in the crystal deeps of their native lakes,
and their tributary streams were as yet undisturbed by
the splashing of the tireless wading-boots of the in-
satiable fly-fisher, and the all-pervasive whirr of his re-
lentless multiplier had not sung its siren song to the
accompaniment of the tumbling waters as they foamed
and swirled and eddied among the stones of the maple-
shaded, peopled pools. Then, the Boy was heir-at-law
in Macnidcr and enjoyed his grudgingly conceded
rights and assumed some w^holly disputed privileges
with the usual proprietary air of one to the manor
born. In season and out of season, the crows, the
gulls, and the plover on the beach — and sometimes
portions of his chum's anatomy — bore unwilling wit-
ness to the feats of marksmanship of which the bor-
rowed nuizzle-loader of the farmer-fisherman's ingle-
nook was capable. The planks piled on the beach
that remained over from the building of Sandy Mc-
Laggan's new clipper schooner mysteriously disap-
peared about the time certain *' long, low, rakish craft

A TALE OF MACNIDER BY-THE-SEA.

105

appeared ini the ofifing," and, the identity of crew and
plunder being fully established, a settling day neces-
sarily arrived in which the Boy took a painfully pro-
minent, if not pecuniary, part.

The hobble-de-hoy days of Boy and hamlet flowed
swiftly on ; the Boy is a man and the Girl a feature in
the landscape that, as yet, had scarcely asserted itself;
while the Rip Van Winkles of this drowsy nook slowly
woke to the fact that the pockets of tired refugees from
inland cities were mines of wealth more easily ex-
ploited than the potato patch. Cottage, Boarding
House and Hotel swiftly rose and superciliously el-
bowed the homely cots where their greatness was cra-
dled. If the pocket-books of the visitors grew thin,
their cheeks filled out and took on the glow of health,
and they were content with what fare their providers
thought good enough for them; and if, to all seeming,
the cheeks of the latter still retained the same elon-
gated, leathery features as at the first, the cynical
vowed that a closer examination disclosed a metallic
texture in close affinity with the hoarded coppers in
the big banks in Montreal and Quebec upon which
their owners could now draw well-filled cheques that
would be promptly paid.

The evolution of a summer watering-place was thus
accomplished !

Though not, as before said, one of the ultra-fash-
ionable, it is a fair and lovely spot as seen from the
deck of the " Sea-Gull" dancing over the blue waters
of the bay, and small wonder that those who have
once tasted its quiet, cool, northern delights vow a
perpetual fealty that the warmer charms of gay south-
ern beauty are powerless to break. The coast line
8

"«|Wf^ll|M*M«W

^mm

106 ANNEXED.

sweeps from far Sandy Beach church, dotted along its
length with white French-Canadian farm-houses, cot-
tages, and hotels, past the Boule, Maiden and Eagle
rocks, round Church Bay and Shipwreck Bay, formed
by the promontory of Mount Hope and the chain of
rocks thrust like a barbed) lance deep into the bosom
of the writhing sea, the scene of wrecks and the grave
of brave men, and until the erection of the lighthouse,
a fearful menace in the path of ships. Beyond the
Point Light, the eye follows the rocky shore-line past
the Kirk and kirkyard by L'Anse des Morts, on to
where the lumber mills are loading their product into
the vessels anchored ofi the little river, until all indi-
viduality of land and seascape is lost in the haze where
the path of the Great Northern Highway fades in the
blue distance.

Was it the witchery of a perfect day, bracing air,
charming surroundings, pleasurable content with each
other's society, or all together, that had, all uncon-
sciously, beguiled these two to prolong their stroll so
far from their hotel as this pretty bit of spruce-bor-
dered road that stretches from the bend by the Seig-
neur's Manor House to the kirk at L'Anse des Morts?
Not a house or a person in sight; only the snake-fence
creeping along beside them, the firs elbowing close up
to their roadside path, and the blue tide lapping the
stones almost at their feet, it would seem as if the
tennis flannels and rackets with which they were equip-
ped were as far from their customary spheres as their
owners now realized they were from home.

"Where are we, any way ? — Oh, isn't it all perfectly
lovely ? — How shall we ever get back ?"

"As to the first, about three miles from the hotel.

A TALE OF MACNIDER BY-THE-SEA.

107

Secondly; agreed by all means, and if I'm included,
thanks ! Lastly; I suggest the simi)l(.' |)lan of resting
on the rocks here and wait till the buckboards pass on
their way back from the Falls and get a lift."

" Don't be flippant, Mr. King, and please find me
a seat."

" Most seriously, Miss Grahame, here's the easiest
I can find."

Seating themselves, after this little passage, they had
time to take in their immediate surroundings. Just
at the point where their walk ended, the road passed
between a high bluff on the land side and a jagged
pile of rocks that jutted out into the sea on the other,
on which were the remains of an old wind-mill, long
since departed from its original use and fast disappear-
ing into the smoke of near-by beach-cabin fires.

The girl seemed absorbed in silent enjoyment of
the wondrous beauty of the scene. The young man,
respecting her mood, sat idly by, chipping the liclien
oft the rock with his racket, but ever alert for sounds
of the returning picnickers, on whose good offices he
depended to find a passage back for his charge. He,
too, was under the spell — it may have been of place,
air, sky, or sea — but from the way he glanced from
time to time at the rapt face of the girl it might be
inferred that it was not these alone that held him.
Little wonder if it were so, for she certainly made a
charming picture in her white tennis serge dress and
blouse, her fair, blown hair tumbling beneath the
daintiest of white Tam O'Shanters, and her face lit
by the light and flush of health bubbling through the
laughing blue eyes and glowing on cheek and lip, witli
the massed grey rocks and evergreens for background.

108 ANNEXED.

It might readily have occurred to her, had she been
looking his way, that he, too, was well dowered by
nature. No dandy of the avenue promenade this well
set up, athletic, well groomed figure in flannels and
straw hat that now spread itself in lazy ease on the
rock; and for the rest — moderately tall, rather dark,
his clear-eyed, wholesome, bronzed, frank face showed
a youth whom one would be glad to have on one's
own side in a football or zareba rush, and as a friend
to trust on all occasions.

"Don't you think," he finally broke in, "that it's
about time we became acquainted, Miss Grahame ?"

"Why, Mr. King !— "

" Oh, yes, of course I don't forget the hop last week
when Mrs. What's-her-name pronounced the conven-
tional fornuila : ' Mr. King, Miss Grahame,' but that
tells me nothing."

" You might try the ' Society Reporter ' " —

" Now, that's what I call flippant, not to say unjust.
Of course I've used my eyes and they've served me
well and pleasingly, but you — the ego one does not
usually display on one's sleeve for every daw to peck
at, has eluded me, and I'm really interested in know-
ing this."

" Well 1" thoughtfully, " suppose I make an exception
in your favor as a biped without feathers and try to
enlighten your inquiring mind ?" —

" Perhaps my allusion was inapt, but it's no magpie
curiosity tl\at impels me,, I assure you, and if you care
to turn your * ^roscope my way, of course — "

"Then, ki me as Edythe Grahame — my chums
are permitted to call me * Ed,' and sometimes, when
in the humor, in allusion to my supposed ancestry of

A TALE OF MACNIDER BY-THE-SEA.

109

grewsome memory, are pleased to refer to me as 'Bon-
nie Dundee/ A loyal Canadian, born and resident —
oh, these many years ! — in Canada's fairest city, Mont-
real. By fate and good fortune a B.A. of McGill, and
hoping to find a 'career' worthy of my dear Alma
Mater. Alive, and in love with life — with faith in
enthusiasms — I love my friends — care not if I have any
enemies — hate shams — detest the Americans. There!
is that enough ?"

" Oh ! quite, thanks ! but the blow is cruelly heavy."

" You are an American !" —

" With melancholy pride I own to the detested im-
peachment."

" Oh !— I-I'm so sorry."

" For the fact, me, or yourself?

" Please be kind. But how could you — I mean
why did you — oh, dear, no, I mean — with that unde-
mocratic name, how could I know ? I tliought you
were a good Canadian, or an Englishman, at least "

" Well ! with due apologies, I'm not. Just a Yankee
of the Yankees. Born in Boston. A son of Harvard,
duly finished and labelled. At present, without a
' sphere.' Drifted up North, ' on pleasure bent,' and a
kind fate dropped me here. Not a bad fellow as they
go — boys call me * Rex,' and, when kindly disposed,
* Facile Princeps' — Elson King, self-convicted, con-
demned, awaiting sentence craves your grace."

" Pardoned and restored to favor ! But," seriously,
" I've good cause for my antipathy — national, not per-
sonal. My grandfather, when a lad, was, with his
family and many of their friends, driven from their
hemes; in 1784 and forced to seek new ones in the
Canadian wilds — their only crime loyalty to their king.

110 ANNEXED.

He was killed in the defence of his adopted land, which
those same countrymen of yours coveted, tried to take,
and were driven from in 1812. My uncle — my father's
twin brother — was killed in one of the little skirmishes
of '37-'38, helping to put down rebels who, if not
actually drawing- support from your country, found
ready asylum and refuge there when forced to flee.
In the Fenian troubles of 1866 and 1870 we saw again
— at least negatively — the work of your people; and in
these my father took active part in command of a por-
tion of our Volunteer force, but, in consequence of
the exposure to which his not too robust frame was
subjected, he became a confirmed invalid and died
a few years ago. Now, do you wonder that I, the
child of his old age, in view of all this and in view of
the * Annexation' cry that we hear your people raising
in these days, should feel as I do, and believe that, as
when in 1812 Dr. Eustis, the Secretary of War of the
United States, assured Congress : ' We can take
Canada without soldiers ; we have only to send officers
into the Provinces, and the people, disaffected towards
their own Government, will rally round our standard,'
so it is to-day, and should stoutly resent , it ?"

" Well ! admitting, for the sake of the present unfor-
tunate argument, all you say, is this a case where the
sins of the fathers should be visited upon the children
unto the third and fourth generation ? And, besides,
this talk of 'Annexation' in certain of our Press is
quite indifferently regarded by the country at large;
in fact, when thought of at all, is believed to be the su-
preme wish of the people of Canada themselves."

" Never ! Annexation — forced or bartered — never!
Independencie^Imperial', Federation — anything but

A TALE OF MACNIDER BV-THE-SEA. Ill

that ! Why, the very boys and gfirls would do as
they've done before — take up amis in defence of .heir
heritage ! Yes, I myself, would rouse the ' Tuques'
of Terrebonne and the * Bonnets' of Glengarry and
the drama of Chateauguay would be enacted over
again !"

In her excitement, the eirl had risen to her feet and,
all unnoticed, her white Tam O'Shanter had fallen to
the ground. This King appropriated and, before she
could interpose, had placed on the end of his racket
and stood before her, merrily singing :

" Then open your West-port and let me gae free
For it's up wi' the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee !

♦ »

This relieved the tension somewhat; peace and the
cap being restored, seats were resumed and she began
again : )

" Well ! let it all be, and tell me how you've amused
yourself here in this out of the way corner."

" Oh ! I've been all over the place in the intervals
of tennis. Been out after halibut with old Simmons
and back to the Lakes with Johnny for trout; and if
the results in fish were inconsiderable, I was greatly
interested in studying my guides. Then I paid my
respects to the Seigneur and his family and called on
the worthy incumbent of the Manse. I learned much
of the legendary lore of Macnider from all of them,
but was most interested in a very mythical tale of the
wreck of a * French Frigate' just about this spot,
before any of the present inhabitants had emigra;?d
here. All were lost but a few men who got ashore in
one of the ship's boats, beaintr a 'chest filled with
gold' which they buried on the shore, taking the pre-

SajHHSK

112 ANNEXED.

caution to murder one of their number and bury bis
body in tbe same bole so that his spirit would haunt
the spot and warn off, intruders till such time as they
might return and claim what they called their own.
According to the tale, they all died, but others who
became possessed of the secret of the hoard but not of
the key to its hiding place did, from time to time, come
to search — at midnight — and traces of digging were
found, but wliich my clerical friend attributed to some
of the lads trying to test his credulity."

" Yes, I Ve heard the story, too, but am inclined to
think there may be more in it than appears. To re-
turn to your perfidious country again. You know
that at the time you tried to take ours, England was
fighting Napoleon, whose schemes none could fathom.
What more natural than as a result of the flirtation
of Columbia with the Dictator he should secretly send
a ship well equipped with men and money in the hope
of rousing the French-Canadians to assist you by for-
swearing their allegiance to England, and thus deal
his enemy a vital blow and make friends with the
United, States at a small cost ? What more probable
than that such a ship might elude the British cruisers,
slip up the river, meet with an awful storm and leave
her bones and precious freight on these rocky, tin-
known shores, and no record be preserved of it save
a dim, legendary tale in the mind of the 'oldest in-
habitant' ?"

" 1 suggest it as a fit subject for debate at your next
club meeting, to be followed by 'Annexation or In-
dependence : National and Personal aspects' !"

No reply was offered to this, and, in watching the
eyes of the girl fixed on the rock beside her, the young

A TALE OF MACNIDER liY-THE-SEA.

113

man concluded that he had risked much in his chunsy
attempt at good-natured chaff. He was more than
startled, however, when the girl dropped to her knees
with' her face bowed over the great boulder, bent a
wide-eyes gaze on its flat surface, and excitedly cried :

" I knew it ! — I knew it ! — and that I should be
the one to prove it !" —

" What is it ?— What have I done ?"

" Look ! Look !" she cried, pointing to some marks
roughly cut into the stone.

Hastening to assist her, as with trembling fingers
she was endeavoring to brush away the sand and other
drift with which time and wind had filled the chisel-
ing, their united efforts soon laid bare the marks, or
inscription, which thus disclosed itself :

lOO
M

" There !" she exclaimed, " what do you think of
my theory now ? There's the evidence of the buried
treasure and the key to its hiding place ! Can't you
see it ?"

" I see some marks, certainly, which I don't exactly
understand, but suppose they merely indicate some-
one's boundary line. As to your Napoleonic fancies,
buried gold, and mysterious cryptogram, really, you
must permit me to be excused — "
'* Then, what do you think of that ?" — and she tri-
umphantly held up to his now sobered gaze a gold

114 ANNEXED.

coin, well preserved, and bearing date of the early
years of the century, which she had just fished up out
of a cleft of the rock where it had apparently long lain
undisturbed.

This certainly put a new phase on the question, and
King's laughing manner gave place at once to one
of serious concern as he said :

" It is certainly strange; can you read any meaning
in the hieroglyphics ?"

" Why, it's as plain as daylight ! Here you have
the Imperial 'N'; the 'Cross,' which Napoleon, at
least outwardly, respected, and which superstitious
sailors would most naturally use as a talismanic index
to point a direction, as you see it does, straight to that
little hollow beyond the road. The 'loo M' can mean
nothing else but *ioo Metres' and the lower figure is
evidently that of the old French playing card symbol
of the 'Spade' and tells plainly 'dig,' all set out on this
big rock which served as an unmistakable landmark.
Can anything be plainer ? Now, the only question
is : When shall we dig ?"

King was by this time completely carried away by
Miss Grahame's enthusiasm, if not her reasoning, and
they fell to discussing plans. Of course, they at once
agreed that to take anyone into their confidence would
spoil the fun and credit of the adventure; and yet not
for ten pots of gold should two young peop.e venture
to brave Mrs. Grundy and hie them forth at midnight
along the beach with pick and spade to look for them.
King, however, bethought him of his guide Johnny,
the proud father of thirteen fine French Canadian citi-
zens, and, for chaperon and digging purposes requir-
ing some degree of tact, skill and secrecy, unimpeach-

A TALE OF MACNIDER BY-THE-SEA.

115

able. They had just settled all this, and also decided
upon waiving the point of the traditional midnight
hour in favor of the more reasonable one of just at
dusk, and agreed that the te->t should be made that very
evening, when the rattle of the buckboards and the
merry laughter of the picnic-party coming along the
road woke them up to the present. On their hail, the
cavalcade stopped, places were found for them and
they were soon at the hotel.

Miss Grahame at once retired to her room, where
she stayed till the clatter of the great bell, and tlie
children scampering along the corridors in their cus-
tomary merry race to be "first in," warned her that
the important function of " high tea" was being con-
vened. She appeared at table in the quiet attire she
usually assumed in place of her tennis dress, but her
subdued air was so different from her customary gay
demeanor as to draw out the lively raillery of her
neighbors. King was late coming down, and his
absence from the gay party, with whom he stood in
high favor, together with the knowledge of their after-
noon's ramble and the girl's changed mood, did not
tend to diminish the rattling fire of small shot laugh-
ingly launched at her.

He came presently, to Miss Grahaine's relief, shortly
explaining that he had been looking up Johnny to
make arrangements for a drive.

He certainly had not been idle. Johnny is one of
those not uncommon persons of his class who dearly
love, and w411 go far, to 'hae a crack,' as his Scotch
neighbors say, and, in consequence, are sometimes
not easilv found w^hen wanted. He was unearthed at
last gossiping in the little store with the village oracles.

116 ANNEXED.

his nap^ and biickboard tied to the fence outside.
Kinpf, having- duly impressed him with the necessity
of keeping down his propensity to gossip, it was ar-
rangctl that he should he waiting at the foot of tlie
" big hill" at half past eight with his buckhoard, a
lantern, his axe, a pick and a shovel. Nothing was
said of the object in view or the need of such articles,
but King knew that Johnny would be on hand and did
not wish to give him cause for uneasiness in knowing
too much of the nature of the work now required ^)f
him. He had tested Johnny's sterling (pialities in
driving over rough bush roads, in camp — especially
at meal times — and in a) boat, and had proved their
mettle; but this was so out of the usual Hne of his de-
mands upon Johnny's fortitude that King deemed it
well to have him start, as it were, " under sealed
orders." The necessity for a measuring line was very
evident also, and King thought of Grant, the Civil
Engineer, who was living at the hotel for the summer,
engaged in some work for the Railway, and was on
the point of borrowing his steel tape-line, when he re-
collected that Grant was a mighty man of " chafif" and
feared his ponderous wit being directed to enquiries
as to whether King had picked out the particular little
French beauty and intended setthng down on the slice
the old gentleman might be disposed to clip ofif the
homestead as dowry and wished to help measure it
off ! He was sure of Grant's tape-line, but not at all
sure that if his pleasantries did not take this turn they
would not, at least, be directed to " seeing what was
up," with a view to having some fun out of it. On
the whole, he concluded to keep his own counsel, and
fell back on the laborious task of measuring off, foot

A TALE OF MACNIDER RY-Tf IE- SEA.

117

by foot, one of his cod lines to the length of the pre-
scribed loo AUtres, which he calculated would be 328
feet. This done, and his flannels exchanged for a
strong walking suit, he made his appearance at the
tea table as stated and assisted in his entertaining way
in making the meal pass pleasantly. \

Tea over, and the company dispersed about— *^ie
gentlemen with cigars and papers and the ladies with
their letters, or chatting quietly, preliminary to the
evening anmsements of cards and dancing — King and
Miss Grahame found themselves comfortably ensconc-
ed in two of the big rockers in a quiet corner of the
piazza, when he at once began :

" The dark conspiracy is in train ! But seriously.
Miss Grahame, I have grave doubts — not as to your
theory, which seems reasonable, if not probable — but
as to your being equal to the strain. The excitement
ii> telling on you even now; better let me go alone with
Johnny, or bring some of the other people along — "

'' Not another word, please; I'm nervous and excited
if you will, but that's no reason for backing down.
We spoke of 'Canadian Independence,' you know, and
I mean to prove it." ,

" Well ! from my point of view, and considering the
matter in hand, it seems to me as if 'Annexation' were
the proper term; but you must decide, as it's time we
were off."

"I have decided !" she said, rising to her feet; and
smiling down on him as he sat in the big rocker, she
softly trolled a stave of the old song in a laughing
voice that) was meant to be very brave and steady :

118

ANNEXED,

(( (

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle my horses, come call up my men,
Come open your West-port and let me gae free —
For you've not seen the last of my bonnets and me!' "

"I hope not, indeed !" King replied, with more em-
phasis than he was conscious of, as they sauntered
off in the twilight to the (appointed trysting-place at
the foot of the " big hill," where Johnny and his buck-
boardl were already waiting.

" Well, John, all ready, I see ! Everything aboard?"
" Oui, m'ssieu', h'all correc', jus' wait for you !"
" Very good, then, go ahead, round by the Point !"
The tide was in, and as they swept around the bay
the thought of their errand did not prevent their en-
joying the prospect spread before them, and the sweet
summer air as it softly rippled across the peaceful
waters of the bay which glistened white in the gloam-
ing and reflected a light upon the winding road by the
shore that made all objects clear. There is little travel
over this road in the evening, and they met no teams
as they rattled along without speaking till Johnny's
curiosity got the better of him, and he tentatively ven-
tured :

" You go for dig clam', M'ssieu' Keeng ?"
" No, John, GOLD," King returned, shortly.
'^ Set£-;ie/ir !'* Johnny commented, in open-eyed and
open-mouthed wonder and doubt as to whether his
passenger was serious, or merely quizzing him as he
so often did.

They were nearing their destination by this time
and King decided to take his guide into full confidence,
so asked him if he had ever heard the tale of the

A TALE OF MACNIDER BY-THE-SEA.

119

wreck and the lost treasure. The startled expression
on Johnny's face and the flood of broken English and
French jargon poured forth in answer soon settled
the fact :

'^ Grand Dieu ! Afssieu', you nevare try for fin' dat
gol' ! Ee's fnatidit swvQ. My frien' look for him since
long tarn, and one night she come h'on spot look lak
good place an* commence for dig, when le Diable she
fly tro' de bush — mek more noise dan t'ree Caribou —
chase my frien' h'all down de road pas' L'Anse des
Morts. She ketch dem sure but dey jomp h'on de
Cimiti^re an' mek de Croix wit' dare finger', den she
go h'off back h'on de bush. Don' go no farder,
M'ssieu' Keeng, n'tournez cJiez vo7iSy pottr Vmnoiir de
Dieu r

If Miss Grahame was disturbed at this outburst, she
gave no sign, while King only laughed and made
Johnny to understand that if he was afraid he might
go back but that he should have to walk and, more-
over, he need never show his face again except to come
and get his team, which he would find tied to the
hitching-post at the hotel. The fear of losing
" M'ssieu' Keeng's " good-will — and good dollars —
was stronger than the fear of " Le Diable" of L'Anse
des Morts, and Johnny promptly turned the team off
the road into the clump of firs near the big rock indi-
cated by his passenger, where they had now arrived.
The reflection from the sea gave light enough for the
operations now rapidly set in train so as to bring them
within the shelter of the woods on the other side be-
fore any stray travellers coming along should inter-
vene with too curious eyes. They mounted the big
rock where the clearer light easily permitted them to

120

ANNEXED.

find the marks and trace the direction indicated by
the perpendicular line of the cross. One end of the
cod line was held, and carefully set to this, by King,
and Johnny was hurriedly sent across the road into
the little hollow beside the bluff and told to mark the
spot, which he did as well as his very serious mis-
givings and agitation would permit — Miss Grahame
watching every move in silent expectancy. The tools
and the lantern were brought from the buckboard,
and the strangely assorted trio now grouped them-
selves at the spot where hopes and fears lay buried.
They were now in( the shadow of the bush and it be-
came necessary to light the lantern as a preliminary to
clearing away some brush with the axe to permit of
^'&g^"g operations being started. Johnny held the
lantern and King had just got it lit when suddenly as
if from the ground at their feet rose an awful whirring
sound such as Johnny had described. The lantern
fell from his trembling hands with a crash to the
ground, and with a wild cry: ''Mon Dieu, le DiableV
John cleared the short space intervening between them
and the road, along which he flew, utterly oblivious of
team, passengers, or anything but his blind terror and
his desire to run as fast and as far as possible. Even
King's cool nerve might have been excused a slight
lapse when called on so suddenly, but he had no time
to scare if he would. The mad folly of the whole pro-
ceeding swiftly smote him when he saw the effect on
the overtaxed nerves of his companion, and he had
just time to catch her in his arms as she was falling
to the ground in a dead faint. He did not lose his
head under this entirely unforseen climax, but carried
her quickly across the road to the open glade by the

A TALE OF MACNIDER BY-THE-SEA.

121

water; and his thoughts were busy in the short time
he stood guard over her as she rechned against tiie
rock where he had placed her. The old tale of ship-
wreck and treasure faded from his mind in the new one
his fancy was weaving. Was this a rock of Fate — of
Shipwreck or Hope? Of treasure, not buried, but in
plain sight, he was now fully conscious, and the policy
of "Annexation" which he had so warmly disclaimed
he now as resolutely adopted. Would she accept it
in lieu of her avowed one of " Independence ?" He
recalled her firm declaration : " I have decided !" and
also the fact that a motion to " reconsider" may, by
consent, be introduced in debate, and had concluded to
press this when, her strong vitality having asserted it-
self as he expected, she opened her eyes and saw him
smiling down at her as she had smiled on him in the
big rocker on the piazza, but the jaunty air was want-
ing as she said:

" Oh, what a fall was there, my country-women !
Actually fainted, didn't I, like any ordinary body ?"

" Don't speak of it, except to say you are well enough
to start back at once. I suppose Johnny is running
yet, but the team is here, and I know the road quite
well, and if you can still trust me after all this trouble
I've got you in — "

" Now ! please—I take all blame. You could have
done no less than do as I wished, could you ?" she
said, as he handed her into the buckboard. Then, as
they drove slowly along the road, her gaiety returned
and she continued :

"The worse of it is, we've settled nothing. My
theory is, like my forebears' curious legal dictum, 'not
proven.' My trusted 'Independence' has played me
9

> ii

122

ANNEXED.

false, and you have had no opportunity of testing the
strength of the 'Annexation' sentiment when con-
fronted with an object attractive enough to call it
forth."

" Oh, no, you're quite wrong there. I'm a convert
to the doctrine in a modified form."

" Having failed in coercion, you would try cajolery,
perhaps."

" Well, that's not exactly the word I should use.
The fact is — you must know — don't you see — I want a
word : — ah ! Johnny supplied it, V amour — "

"Oh, dear, no, that's not his name at all; it's Jean
Baptiste Belaire, and there he is in the warm flesh,
looking thoroughly ashamed of himself, aren't you,
Johnny ?" she nervously enquired as the buckboard
stopped and King told him to get aboard and that he
could go back for the tools and the lantern early in
the morning. Nothing more was said regarding the
night's adventure, and, the reins resigned to Johnny's
accustomed hand, each for a time pursued in silence
the theme now uppermost in both their minds. King
at last broke the silerxe bv saying :

" We understand each other, I think. Miss Grahame,
which shall it be, 'Independence' or 'Annexation'?"

" Oh! — you startled me. I was just wondering when
I should be able to prove my theory of the crypto-
gram."

" Won't you decide the more important point first
and let the other wait ?"

" Not yet — I'm — I — ah, here we aref at the hotel !"

Fortunately, all the guests were deeply immersed
in their cards and dancing, and they were able to slip
quietly across the now deserted piazza and into the

A TALE OF MACNIDER BY-THE-SEA.

123

entrance hall. They were just passing on to the par-
lors when some one in the office caught sight of the
couple, and a bluff, hearty voice familiarly hailed them:

" Hi ! where have you two been all evening ? We
were looking for you all over to make up a hand at
whist, but they said you'd gone for a walk. By-the-
way. King," continued Grant, the owner of the voice,
" did you ever notice in your rambles over in the di-
rection of L'Anse des Morts a peculiarly shaped mass
of rocks jutting into the sea with the remains of an old
mill on it ?"

King shot a covert glance at his companion as he
answered : " Yes ! what of it ?"

"Well, some twenty odd years ago, I was on the
survey for the Railway which, as you know, runs back
from here some three miles, where they finally de-
cided to put the station, but which was then a ques-
tion of being placed nearer the sea, and we were run-
ning an alternate line along the shore. Our camp
was close' by, and I found that this rock was just ex-
actly loo miles from our division point on the West,
so I concluded ;to note the fact on the rock, with the
addition of the cardinal points of the compass showing
the true North. As it was a Government work, one
of the lads suggested that the 'broad arrow' should be
added as well, and before I could explain that this
was a British, not Canadian, 'totem,' or interfere to
prevent, he had cut it in with my carvings, which I sup-
pose may still be traced there, though I fancy no one
hereabouts knows of them, as I never mentioned the
matter before to-night. I have good reason to remem-
ber the place, however, because I lost there a ' spade

124

ANNEXED.

guinea' that I had carried for years as a pocket piece
and would give a good deal to see again."

" Then, we are pleased to be able to return it without
fee or reward," said King, as he, in a few words, ex-
plained how Miss Grahame had found it hidden away
in a cleft of the same big rock where it had lain so
long undiscovered.

Thanks and congratulations were exchanged in the
most natural way, and Miss Grahame demurely passed
out to retire upstairs. King followed, caught and de-
tained her at the foot of the stairway, begging again
for his answer in the light of the new developments.
Judging from his pleased expression as he held her
hand somewhat longer than was necessary in saying
good-night, it might be inferred that this was satis-
factory. Miss Grahame, too, seemed not averse to
having her hand thus "annexed" — nobody being in
sight — but a puzzled expression flitted across her
otherwise smiling face as she asked :

" But what was the noise we heard that frightened
us all so much ?"

" Not all of us, please ; I thought at the time that
we had disturbed a covey of partridges lying hidden
in the ferns, and now ^I'm sure of it. Good-night,
dear, and pleasant dreams !"

jiwjafMttr

■I

I I !

BALLADS AND POEMS.

^^^ ^^F^ ^fiF^

HOW WE WON THE TROPHY.

NO stirring deeds of arms I tell, by flood or trampled

field,
Nor clash of sword on plumed helm, nor spear 'gainst

ringing shield.
The Isthmian and Olympic games were sung of old in

Greece,
And in the bright Laurentian land we too love wars

of peace.
Let gladsome paeans songful rise, on high your gar-
lands toss,
With chaplets crown our hero-game, the Indian's gift.

Lacrosse !
Then let it down our history ring with Deeds and Arts

and Laws,
And children's children welcome it in thunders of

applause !

The Captain's Story*

Tell how we won the Championship and swept the

field that day ?
And you, the old-time veteran, the great game missed,

you say 1

IIW^V*>.V7t?1.'.V»*~-VV.v«t.'*S>^*',i-.

Wm.

128

BALLADS AND POEMS.

Your fighting spirit sure has flown, your blood no

longer stirs
As inl the days of long ago when first you won your

spurs !

In swelling crowds, full hours before the time play
should begin,

The people came in car and cab, still ever flowing in,

Filled the grand stand from end to end, packed all its
ample space

In towering tiers of manly strength, beauty and win-
some grace.

I vow 'twas sight to fire the blood; — enthroned, that
serried mass

Of life, with color pulsing; underfoot, the velvet grass;

Above, the blue Canadian sky; beyond, the river's
sheen

Shot back the burnished rays that kissed the moun-
tain's crested green.

And almost hidden 'mid the flock, with brilliant plum-
age gay,

That fluttering and twittering await the coming fray,

Was one white dove whose heart I knew beat 'neath
its downy vest.

In visions of her love's return, crowned, from that
stirring quest.

All paused. I watched the players stand, or toss the

rubber high;
Admiring scanned each stalwart form, dear to an

athlete's eye,
As o'er the field with easy ^ace, the lissom figures

glide;

HOW WE WON THE TROPHY.

129

Or, playful, chase the darting ball with lithe and winged
stride.

The signal whistle shrilly piped, sharp on the stroke of

three
The teams lined up in centre field; out stepped the

Referee.
Kindly he warned us of the rules; "Now boys, let

people say,
In after years, who see this game, * 'twas pure Lacrosse

that day !' "

Nervous! you're right; although our men were in the

finest trim.
And jauntily toyed with their sticks, their smiles were

rather grim.
Ten thousand pairs of eager eyes, the Championship

at stake ! —
Man, each green blade sprang 'neath our shoes with

bristling nerves awake !

I won the toss and chose to play down, with the sun

behind;
And, as the team strung out to place, urged them to

keepi in mind
The precepts I, all practice eves, unceasing trained

them in —
"Cover; check close; get on the ball; keep cool and

sure we'll win !"

The Centre-fields knelt for the face. " Ball's off!" the

ladies cry.
Quick as a flash our Outside Home caught at it on the

fly. ,

ij>i8a»«a*>»»»»»'jg."--~-- ^^2-^^rtd« M ' «mui "liiiiirf^tfj^

iSSt^Mii

130

BALLADS AND POEMS.

And, heedless of the raining blows, dodged each man

as he came*.
Passed it to Home. A shot, dead on; the Umpire's

signal. Game !

'Tis ours I 'tis ours 1 Surprise, delight, dear brimming

eyes confess,
And sweet with hope their speech to me, and joy at

first success ; —
Then, as bent bow in .archer's hand twangs from

the loosened string,
The pent voice of the people's heart breathed in

one mighty ring !

The old heads, when they got their breath after the

first glad shout
None could restrain, looked very wise and muttered :

" Boys ! look out !
That's but the first — too quickly won, — the pace is

rather fast !"
And swift the ready challenge came : " Yes, much too

good to last !"

Next game both sides had settled down and showed
some pretty play.

As up and back the ball was tossed along its l)ounding
way.

Our Home poured in their red-hot shots; theirs rat-
tled round the poles;

Till, swift and true, in arrow , flight, the ball whizzed
through our goals!

The second game against us scored, our, doughty rivals
heard

HOW WE WON THE TROPHY.

131

The cheer that heartens jTonibatants, — and then they

took the third !
Somehow that's always been our luck — it takes a crack

or two
To knock the dust out of our eyes and let the grit

shine through.

And so it proved, for, when the teams answered the
whistle's call,

My men were first upon the field ; I saw in each and all

The look betokening gritj would tell, 'spite ,the stone-
wall Defence

That held the goal impregnable — a living barrier dense.

Again the ball was quickly faced. Our Cover-point

leapt in
'Mid whirling sticks and bore it off, amid ear-splitting

din ,

Of profifered counsel, ringing cheer, applause that

never lags
Till luckily he heard me roar: "High drop, right on

the flags I"

One instant balanced on the net, then urged by power-
ful swing

The soaring ball rose to the sky as if on buoyant wing.

The players stood and watched its flight; the stand
gazed, breathless, too.

And strained their eyes upon the speck cleaving the
distant blue.

As darting hawk in downward swoop, the rubber,

curving, dipped;
The Home rushed in. "Check sticks!" I cried. Each
man his crosse tight gripped.

i t

132

BALLADS AND POEMS.

1 fl

&■

Crash went the sticks! Home's furious swipe the

flag-pole barely shaved.
" Missed by an inch !" the Umpire said. The hard

pressed goal was saved !

Back toi our end the rubber whirled. Their Home

sprang to attack
In fierce assault our citadel, by our Defence hurled

back.
In vain they tried to force a breach, each, well-aimed

shot was stopped,
Till Point a soaring over-hand , clean through their

fortress dropped !

" Magnificent!" " Twas only chance!" But all could

plainly see
How narrow was the line between defeat and victory.
Each side two games; ten minutes' rest; but three in

which to win
Or lose, or, draw! — the odds were then a crosse-stick

to a pin.

Three minutes for the Championship! How the swift

seconds flew ;
" Play !" cried the Referee at last, and shaip and quick

'twas too;
The face — a draw — a catch — a shot! "Game!" rings

across the, field;
Our hero-team had nobly won the honor and the

shield !

And if our sticks were tossed in joy, you should (have

seen the crowd
Dance, laugh, and slap each' other's backs and shout

in glee aloud;

HOW WE WON THE TROPHY.

133

While sparkling eyes their plaudits beamed, and ker-
chiefs waved on high,

And polished tiles went rocketing up towards the even-
ing sky.

But sweeter far than glad applause, dearer than glit-
tering prize.

The whispered praise from those dear lips, the wel-
come in her eyes.

Stilled the unquiet heart that beat in fond anxiety

When Victory's wings brushed by Defeat — now tri-
umphing with me.

The gallant stand our rivals made we shall not soon
forget,

The cheer we gave them on the field rings in my mem-
ory yet.

Right loyally they sent it back, and in its hearty ring

Was highest tribute to success — defeat had left no
oting !

• i

134

BALLADS AND POEMS.

LOVE'S UNDOING.

CAME Youth, one day, to cool his fevered blood

In Ocean's deeps that, foam-starred, lave the shore.
In pearly scallop dancing- .on the flood

Nereis floats, and stays her trident oar.

Blind passion burns; untamed desires implore
Love's largess, that in coy and wanton mood

Love still withholds, till, flushed and panting sore,
Hot Youth her bark invades with ardor rude
And, masterful, compels Love's loveless servitude.

II.

Youth's hey-day past, strong Manhood's bearded
prime —

Cloyed with the surfeit of spent passion's fire —
Fond Love upbraids, unmindful of the crime

That filched Love's bloom to feed his fell desire.

Sweet pleadings move him not, with malisons dire
Twines he hei; filmy locks with ruthles hand

And, heedless of Love's tears, through ooze and

mire

The Goddess-born bedrags to Ocean's rand

That, gulfing, bears her from the tear-sprent, moaning
strand.

<.„

love's undoing.

135

III.

Wild shriek the wintry winds across the sea
As down those sands, pain-racked, and crouching
low.
Mis-shapen Age creeps, waiHng pleadingly —
Unceasing as the ocean's ebb and flow : —
" O Love, come back !" — Afar the hoarse winds
blow
The cry; :and angry waves the answer fling

Prone at his feet. Still fair as driven snow
Love lies, and kind her mantling tresses cling : —
Dead, Love yet lives, avenged in deathless memory's
sting !

^^^i^VmmmMM^.

136

BALLADS AND POEMS.

i',

THE HERO OF MONTREAL.

1642.

(Parkman's "Jesuits in North America.")

IN the heart of the Royal City, that rises grand and

fair
On the banks of the blue St. Lawrence, is throned a

stately square :
" Place d'Armes" is the name they gave it. Ay ! fitter

than ye wot,
Was the chivalric title given that scene of combat hot.

Sound ye bells from yon tower his praises! Extol, O

Ville Marie,
The renoun of thy valiant Founder, who dared so

much for thee!
Bid your trumpet-tounged heralds cease not to fling

their paeans wide *
O'er the field where thy doughty Champion brought

low the Redman's pride.

'Mid the gloom of the wild-wood's silence see yon de-
voted band

Reverent kneel at their leafy altar, and consecrate the
land.

THE HERO OF MONTREAL.

137

See them wrest from the trackless forest a space to

call their home,
Where they sleep 'neatly the twinkling tapers hung

high in Heaven's dome.

By the faith of a brave endeavor, and self-forgetful

toil,
The germ of a future city takes root in kindly soil.
And the birds, and the trees, and flowers breathe forth

a song of peace,
That descends as a benediction to bid complainings

cease.

'Now their out-branching roots strike deeper; old

friends lend powerful aid;
And the zeal of devoted woman inspires the soldier's

blade.
For the souls of the dusky heathen they claimed as

their reward;
A New Land for their earthly sovereign, its People for

the Lord.

Soon their faith shall be put to trial. The river from

its bed,
With the roar of a host advancing, in solid phalanx led,
To the sack of some leaguered fortress, rose up one

awful night.
And the hearts of the watchers failed them, before the

direful sight.

Lo! the hand of the Lord, in mercy, the rushing waters

stayed.
As of old the engulfing billows on Gallilee He laid.
10

■bw.

138

BALLADS AND 1 OEMS.

And the Cross, in devout thanksgiving, one joyous,

happy morn,
To the summit of far Mount Royal in stalwart arms

was borne.

But the lust of the wolfish prowler is thirsting for his

prey;
And the blight of the skulking savage lurks darkly night

and day.
In the soldier's enforced inaction, the foe he could not

see
Dulled the edge of his fiery mettle, and chafed his

spirit free.

Sullen murmurs and loud complainings soon reached
the leader's ear,

And the taunt, undeserved, " Thou cowai J !" was flung
with mocking jeer.

" Do we neveH draw sword, Commandant? do naught
but watch and wait,

While the arrogant Redskins flout us, before the for-
tress gate ?'*

*mtM «lf «^ >lf ^f ^f ^if ^ig

»^ f^ ^g% rf^ ^» rfs #^ ^»

In the dawn of a bright March morning, the crisp

snow lying white
Round the fort still enwrapped in slumber, what sounds

the ear afright?
'Tis the bay of the watchful Pilot, as, with her yelping

brood,
She gives tongue to the dreaded tidings : "The foe is

in the wood !"

THE HERO OF MONTREAL.

139

All was bustie and hurried arming. " Now shall ye

have your will !
And take care that ye fight as boast ye — I promise ye

your fill.
I shall lead ye myself to thrash them — yon curs must

feel the whip:
See that ye be not slow to follow, nor fail their claws

to clip !"

Bind the thongs of the snowshoe tightly, and test the
flintlock's prime;

Fill your measure of ball and powder, waste not the
precious time.

Lest the wolves in the thicket hiding should sneak in
fear away.

And the hunter return disheartened, balked of his long-
sought prey !

(

At the head of the little column the leader takes his

place.
Now they make for the snowy clearing, and cross

the open space;
Till the hush of the woods enfolds them, still as the

silent grave.
Where the plumes of the tossing pine trees their spiny

tassels wave.

On they push through the whirling snow-drifts, 'mid
countless pitfalls deep,

To the depths of the sunless forest, still wrapt in win-
ter's sleep:

jii liWmMM feStJ-i^^V

nT» , . i I ,. .. .^.^ afeWS^JWWwwriBaMwiate:!:

"Sni^KSt-S

140 BALLADS AND POEMS.

When a yell from the ambushed demons through all
the archer rang,

And the whiz of the biting arrow answered the bow-
string's twang.

For a moment the bravest falter — the odds are five to

one —
But they fought till their powder failed them, for

thought of flight had none,
Till the Captain, to save the remnant, commanded the

retreat,
And the rush of the fleeing soldiers proclaimed the rout

complete.

The intrepid Commander, scorning on foes to turn his
back,

All alone, in the open clearing, defied the howling
pack.

Till the last of the wounded stragglers the longed-for
shelter ^gained

He confronted the shower of arrows the Indian bow-
men rained.

Then, their chief from the van advancing, 'mid yells

and vengeful cries.
With the spring of a panther bounded to seize so rare

a prize.
But^the heart of the Soldier quailed. not, full at the

tufted head
From the grim, black lips of his pistol ^the last, swift

challenge sped. ]

The war-whoops of the shrieking rabble now turned to
cries of woe

THE HERO OF MONTREAL.

141

As they gazed at their fallen comrade, dead on the

crimsoned snow.
" Though the scalp of the hated Frenchman ne'er grace

the council tent^'
We shall rescue our chieftain's body, and wail his

Tribe's Lament." i

Unmolested, the brave Deliverer the fortress wall re-
gains.

Now the women press round him, weeping, to kiss
his bloody stains;

And the men, in glad praise of their hero, break forth
in loud acclaim,

As the sound of retreating footsteps across the snow-
drifts came.

'Mong the names that enrich the pages of Canada's

bead-roll.
Shines there one in a halo lustrous, the man of noble

soul.
Who endured with a faith unswerving, nor recked the

toil and loss:
Maisonneuve, the Heroic, the Fearless, " First Soldier

of the Cross."

142

BALLADS AND POEMS.

IN MATABELE LAND*

"SADDLE and mount and away!" — loud the bugles
in Durban are pealing :
Carbine and cartridge and girth-buckle, look to it,
troopers, and ride !
Ride for your lives and for England ! Ride in your
hot saddles reeling !
Red in the blaze of their homesteads, the trail in
your kin's blood is dyed.
Up ! who be: men, and no other — rank, title, or no
name, what matter ?
Brood of the lion-cub litter, your birthmark's your
passport to-day.
Hard is the ride, and the fight ere they break for their
coverts and scatter:
Spring to the bugle's quick challenge, then, saddle
and mount, and away 1

" Find them and fight them and stand !" down the line

ran the captain's curt orders —
Hot as the mission's red embers, they burned to the

hearts of the men.
Swift o'er the track's desolation, tho' peril each foot of

it borders,
On thro' the assegais' hurtling and make for the

jungle-king's , den I
There, where the waggons are creaking, with ill-gotten

booty encumbered,

iMl

-.ik^aw Mi*itiiijiiitjjM^»^-t

iiHi

IN MATABELE LAND.

143

Rush the zareba ! It weakens — it breaks ! — but to
close as the sand
Follows the swirl of the tide-beat — a handful by thou-
sands outnumbered ! —

England shall hear that we failed not to find them
and fight them and stand.

Stand for the Queen ! Ay, God save her ! and save us,
for sure there's no other;
Trapped, with no chance for our lives, let the black
devils see we can die.
Scrawl them a line or a letter — sweetheart, wife, sister
or mother —
Quick, for their bullets fly faster ; a hand clasp —
" old fellow — good bye !"
Round up the ihorses and shoot them — close up the
dead comrades' places —
Pray if you can, but shoot steady — the last cartridge
gone ! — all is still,
Save for the yells of the victors, that hush as they see
the white faces
Kindle when comes the last order : " Men ! hats ofif,
God save !" — Ay, He will.

144

BALLADS AND POEMS.

THE BELL OF JUSTICE.

COMES o'er the sea from Italy

A story quaintly sweet:
Nor minstrel's tale of lovers frail

Nor jousts where brawlers meet.
No lute-swept air to beauty faire,

That bard or harper sings,
DothI sweeter chime; to scented thyme

No richer fragrance clings.

To guide the State, a kindly fate

A noble prince had crowned
Italy's king, while liegemen sing

His praise the champaign round.
In all things just, in sooth, needs must

That vassals homage pay.
Where Love doth reign, no galling chain

Constrains his gentle sway.

Through Italy the King's decree

By heralds blazoned wide :
" 'Twixt man and man," the mandate ran,

" Let justice alway bide,
Nor fear that I, when any cry

For succour at my hand.
Shall close mine ear, nor deign to hear

The humblest in my land."

THE BELL OF JUSTICE. 145

" Here in yon tovvcr, my kinply power

Decrees a bell shall swing;
The meanest one may hither run » 1

And loud for Justice ring,
When grasping might shall claim as right

What Justice ne'er allows,
Nor fear that he shall spurned be,

Nor we his cause espouse I"

Such rule benign, like mellow wine,

All hearts warmed through the land,
And, man to man, each warring clan

As banded brothers stand.
The Justice-bell ne'er pealed its knell;

Thei frayed rope useless hung:
A creeping vine doth, braiding, twine

The rotting strands among.

When, lo! one morn, a sound was borne

Across the busy mart.
And, as the knell of passing-bell,

It pierced the city's heart.
The long-hushed clang like clarion rang

Amid the echoing walls;
The elbowing crowd demand full loud

Who thus for Justice calls !

The King and Court, with Jiurried port,

Assemble in the square.
" Who thus doth ring? The plaintiff bring !

Deny his claim who dare !"
No answering sound, while far around

The bell's loud clangour tolls :
And awe-struck, dumb, the rabble come

As breaking tide-wave rolls.

•I

146 BALLADS AND POEMS.

" rfaith, perdy, a mystery !

Ho! varlets search the place
And hither bring whoe'er doth ring

And crave our royal grace!"
The minions, sped, with hasty tread,

And, hurrying through the crowd,
Urged on his( course a worn, lean horse,

'Mid laughter long and loud.

The poor, starved beast, that fain would feast

Upon the tender vine
That tempting hung, the bell had rung !

And Justice! owned the sign.
" Now by my crown !" with haughty frown,

The King cried lustily,
" The bnite doth pray for help to-day.

Nor pleads in vain to me !''

"Let no one stir: bring forth the. cur

That left yon beast to die ! —
Now sirrah! see with my decree

You hasten to comply !
Thy faithful friend thou'lt kindly tend.

Serve him as he served thee;
Shalt house and feed thy toil-worn steed

Till^ death shall set him free !"

With cheeks aflame, and tears of shame.

The caitiff meekly swore
To keep the trust, and owned it just.

Then with a lusty roar
The crowds divide) on either side.

For horse and man make way;
Loud plaudits ring: " Long live the King

Who justly rules this day !"

THE FUR KING.

147

TI-IE FUR KING.

MY kingdom by the frozen sea

My love the Snow Queen shares with me;

Unchallenged I in simple fee

Hold fast my royal fief.
My runners scour each forest glade;
Stout hearts guard well my, fort stockade;
I laugh at seige or escalade

And rule a North-land chief.

Then pledge me my lieges and lustily ring,
While flare the back-logs and the! pine -rafters ring-
No laggard shall serve the bold Fur-trader King !

A downy robe bedecks my Queen,
Thick-set with gems whose fulgent sheen
Outshines the flash of rapier keen

And paleSf the Winter moon.
No ermine mantle soft I wear:
For me the robe of royal bear —
My V shaggy subjects yield with care

A 'poll-tax paid eft-soon.

When Winter's icy grip is freed,
And, with the rush of^ frantic steed,
The river roars with headlong speed

Tossing its foam-flecked mane;
'Mid breaking ice-floes' thunderous, crash

148

BALLADS AND POEMS.

Plunging its way with reckless dash —
Tearing its sides with many a gash
And moaning in its pain:

When, resting from its heaving throes,
Drunk with its draught of melting snows.
Sullen and calm the river flows,

I launch my royal barge.
Its bellied birch with peltry stored —
A prince's ransom is on board —
Sweeps on its way, majestic, toward

The river's far dkJiarge.

With chansons gay my dark-skinned crew
Their paddles swing with lusty thew.
Till bursts within our eager view

The loved flag fluttering
Its lettered folds above the Fort,
Whence pours from gate and sally-port
A motley crowd of every sort

Joyously welcoming !

We gather round the roaring fire.

Forgetful of the perils dire

Safe passed, while laugh and jest mount higher

In friendly rivalry.
And hands are clasped, and glasses clink.
And toasts are pledged with nod andvwink —
The dancing lights in chorus blink

And join the revelry.

Then pledge me my lieges and lustily sing,
While flare the back-logs and the pine-rafters ring-
No laggard shall serve the bold Fur-trader Kino^ !

"•iMiiiimni

THE SIREN OF THE WOODS AND WATERS. 149

THE SIREN OF THE WOODS AND WATERS.

THERE'S a dainty nymph within the forest dwelHng-,
That I worship with the ardor of a boy;

Though I woo her with a fond love all-compeUing,
She's inconstant, oft-repellent, shy and coy-

Our trysts we keep not/neath the moon's cold glances.
Or the starlight—twinkling beams from Cupid's
eyes;

But she calls me where the sunlight brightly dances,
And her joyous laughter mocks at lover's sighs.

Do you ask me to describe this fairy creature,
And, Portia-like, dissect each matchless grace ?

Though in my heart is treasured each loved feature,
Alas ! I have not yet looked on her face.

I seek ber in her haunts 'mid ferns and grasses.
Ask news of her from ever)^ living thing;

Anon I hear a rustling where she passes —
Tis but the whirr of partridge on the wing.

I watch her light canoe skim o'er the river,
I hear and see the paddle's dip and flash —

Tis but the sheen of water's rippling quiver,

Where rising fish leaps up with sounding splash!

iSiH

i«te

150

BALLADS AND POEMS.

When dreaming on my bed of fragrant cedar,
Of happy hours on lake or dewy mead,

I hear a sound as if some gentle pleader
Whispered "Woo me, come and follow where I lead."

I rush into the night in wild endeavor
To seize the prize the night-wind bears to me —

See but the scudding white mist driving ever,
Hear but the hooting owl upon a tree.

Though phantom-like my grasp she has eluded,
I see her foot-steps printed everywhere,

By river-side or wooded dell secluded,

And Fm satisfied to know that she is there.

Shall I tell the little maid whose troth I plighted,
Of her mystic rival lurking in the wood,

Whose siren-voice sings in my ear delighted?
Destroy the charm I would not if I could !

Will she yield her place to this unwelcome stranger.
Or admit a rival claimant to the throne ?

Must I choose between these loves, and Love endanger,
Or can I hope to make them both my own ?

THE VIKING.

151

THE VIKING,

AS a bird from the North, my winged prow swoops
forth

Swift on its venturous quest.
Brave deeds shall be done and rich guerdon won,

'Neath the skies of the golden West.

In the fathomless deep my forefathers sleep —
And the shrouding Sea guards her dead —

To a brave death hurled, with their flag unfurled,
'Mid the storm or the battle's red.

Shall the Sea-King's son fear his pathway to steer
Thro' thei rage of the storm's black night

Ever following fast and hisi dirge at last ? —
In Valhalla's Halls there is light !

Ho! little I reck, tho' the leaning deck

Gleam white in the foamy sea.
And the hiss of the gale fill the bellied sail,

And the comb of the wash swirl a-lee !

Ha ! the wild, mad race, as the winds in chase
Thro' the cordage whistle and sing;

And the good ship leaps o'er the crested steeps
With thd joy of a living thing !

152

BALLADS AND POEMS.

My defiance I laugh ! Full-measured deep quaff

New life in that breath divine.
Sweet ne'er love-cup as this, nor a bride's first kiss,

Nor the sparkle of gold-red wine.

At the glad call, " The Foe !" from their dice-play
below.

Sword in hand swarm my bearded crew.
As the prey draws a-near, full-throated their cheer

Rings out o'er the heaving blue.

Hark! the stout timbers crash, and the grapling's teeih
lash

My keen prow to her gaping side;
And the red torrent flows as the steel's cruel blows.

Stalwart-armed, mow a swath deep and wide.

Vain helm, corslet or shield: die who do not yield:
Streams my conquering flag to the breeze !

On its unstayed emprise it, heralding, flies, —
Reign I, master of men and the seas !

THE APOTHEOSIS OF PASSION.

153

THE APOTHEOSIS OF PASSION.

AS in a dream I saw the garish pageant
A-down Time's highway roll its dust-sprent way.

On bannered car triumphal, Love's vice-regent,

Dove-drawn, rose-bowered, queens undisputed sway.

Libations, laughter, song, in fit espousal:

Velvet patched motley rubs; King, courtier, clown

Vie with the herd, swelling the mad carousal

The trumpet's blare and cymbals' crashing drown.

And high above the din and horrid clamor
Bell-notes pipe clear, soaring the train along,

Hymning to Love ! — struck as with ringing hammer
On brazen lute-strings by some King of Song.

Whereat each mimic songster chimes in chorus,
Tinkling his faltering rhymes, aping the King.

Yet, one theme all; or faint, or swells sonorous
Ballade or Roundelay from twanging string.

Bard, Minstrel, Troubadour, in song and story —

Their Leman's kisses hot upon each cheek —

Unblushing, chant their stanzas amatory.

Lewd, wanton tales 'twere very shame to speak.
11

154 BALLADS AND POEMS.

As the Day's Lord, vestured in regal splendor,

Hides his flushed face in Ocean's foam-white breast,

Wooing soft ease in her embraces tender,

By brooding Night en-curtained to sweet rest.

Appeared that Form Divine, proudly reclining
In cushioned sloth amid the gold and red

Of silken trappings, unpriced jewels shining
In aureoled diadem about her head.

Surging about her car, with eager thronging,

Maid, lover, sandaled friar audi wrinkled crone
Beg of her largess — in one plaint prolonging —
Charm, philtre, aught that Love's dread power shall
own.

And close I pressed, amid the loud acclaiming,
To look upon the Vision, Goddess-born.

Love ! Fools and blind that sacred name defaming;
A soulless clod, fire-scarred and passion-torn,

Lit only by the sad and fitful. sparkling
Of eyes that mock the jewel's starry blaze

In their white fire, now wearily endarkling,
'Neath kindly eyelids fending the crowd's rude gaze.

As flies a dream, the dazzling vision faded :
When came the Fair One, in my weak hands thrust

A scroll. " Go write !" me gently she upbraided :
" Know ye her name ye serve, not Love but Lust !"

" This be your god, ye dowered of the ages !

Wield yei your pens inspired in cause like this ?
Shall Mammon's Mistress stain your unsoiled pages ?

Sell ye your birthright for a wanton's kiss ?"

THE LAMENT OF NEW FRANCE.

155

THE LAMENT OF NEW FRANCE.

Ville Marie, Sept. 8, 1760.

NOUVELLE FRANCE is wounded, dying, oh! that

we should see the day,
Hear the death-knell sadly tolling for a Nation passed

away !
Gone are all the dreams of glory, wasted all the toil of

years,
For the alien's yoke is on us, vain a People's bitter

tears !

Valiant men and sainted women freely poured their
blood and gold;

Reared a home 'mid untracked forests, braving dan-
gers, foes untold:

Savage foes and unmasked traitors; enemies in camp
and court;

Grasping greed of haughty placemen — caitiff horde of
evil sort.

Loyally we served our master, blindly loved a recreant
King;

Won him empire wide as ocean, grand as sweep of
eagle's wing.

See ! the sceptre weakly falling, dropping from a nerve-
less hand:

Holy Mother! aid thy children, rescue thou thy chosen
land!

^^.

156 BALLADS AND POEMS,

One by one the gems are dropping from the diadem of

France,
Louisburg in fair Acadia, on to Erie's wide expanse,
Ruthless hands despoil and ravage; humbled, crushed,

lies proud Quebec,
And our hopes with heroes* life-blood mingle in the

awful wreck.

Now the fairest, brightest jewel, Ville Marie, our hope,

our pride,
Last and dearest of our treasures, sinking 'neath the

swelling tide !
See ! the hordes of robber-vultures hovering round with

fetid breath.
Gloating o'er thy dying struggles, grimly waiting for

thy death !

East and west and south they gather, as in seed-time

swarm the crows;
Thick as whirling leaves in Autumn, fierce as Winter's

drifting snows.
Yesternight we watched their camp-fires gleaming

bright like myriad stars;
Saw their blood-red banners flaunting, torn and stained

with battle's scars.

Scarp and bastion, tower and steeple shone amid the
blaze of light:

Grim and silent glowered their Cc.nnon, gaping for the
morrow's fight.

Haviland's and Murray's veterans, Amherst's conquer-
ing troops we see

Steadily their lines converging round the walls of Ville
Marie.

THE LAMENT OF NEW FRANCE.

157

Rouse ye, sleepers, day is breaking; sound the stirring

reveille :
Sons of France! the hour awaits ye; heroes ye may be

this day !
Strike ! as valiant sires have taught ye, though the

odds be ten to one :
Man the ramparts, guard the trenches, stand till death

or victory's won!

Why this solemn Sabbath stillness? Where the noise

of battle's roar ?
Not a shot from friend or foeman and ye tell us all

is o'er !
Why yon hated ensign flying where our lilies proudly

waved ?
God ! it means Capitulation ! Empire lost, a Land

enslaved !

England ! thou art strong, be generous, fate of war has

made us thine :
Spurn not thou our vows of fealty sworn before our

broken shrine !
Though >we cherish shattered memories, precious

dreams of glories past,
We are ONE, for bane or blessing, linked to shape a

Future vast I

158

BALLADS AND POEMS.

THE COUREUR-DE-BOIS.

IN the glimmering light of the Old Regime
A figure appears like the flushing gleam
Of sunlight reflected from sparkling stream,

Or jewel without a flaw.
Flashing and fading but leaving a trace
In story and song of a hardy race,
Finely fashioned in form and face —

The Old Coureur-de-Bois.

No loiterer he 'neath the sheltering wing

Of ladies' bowers where gallants sing.

Thro' his woodland realm he roved a King !

His untamed will his law.
From the wily savage he learned his trade
Of hunting and wood-craft; of nothing afraid:
Bravely battling, bearing his blade

As a free Coureur-de-Bois.

A brush with the foe, a carouse with a friend,
Were equally welcome, and made some amend
For the gloom and silence and hardships that tend

" To shorten one's life, ma foi V
A wife in the hamlet, another he'd take —
Some dusky maid — to his camp by the lake;
A rattling, roving, rollicking rake

This gay Coureur-de-Bois.

THE COUREUR-DE-BOIS.

159

Then peace to his ashes! He bore his part
For his country's weal with a brave stout heart.
A child of nature, untutored in art,

In bis narrow world he saw
But the dawning light of the rising sun
O'er an Empire vast his toil had won.
For doughty deeds and duty done

SaliU ! Coureur-de-Bois.

Mil

llMbbiMlMMWAA^UMb

160

BALLADS AND POEMS.

THE BIRTH OF THE SNOW-SHOE

TIME the Red-man had dominion

And the World and Love were young,
Lonely sat a Chieftain's daughter

Strangely crooning Love's new tongue.
Soft her cheek as downy nestling,

Black her hair as raven's plume,
In her eyes the deeps of pine-woods,

Ripe her lips as wild-plum's bloom.

" Oh, my love ! why doth he tarry ?

Doth the Snow-Sprite stay his feet.
Strewing deep his path with pitfalls.

Traps to snare my runner fleet ?
Hath the Frost-King chilled his singing

That his love-call is not heard
Ringing through the forest's stillness

With the joy of mating bird ?"

" Lend yourl aid, O forest children,

Ye who 'mid its mazes dwell ;
Teach your song ye tossing branches,

Fleet of foot youH secret tell !
Through the snow-foam's driftiiig whiteness

Winged shall fly my love to me.
And the rhythm of his footfall.

Passing, voice Love's melody !"

THE BIRTH OF THE SNOW-SHOE. 161

Came the Caribou and Cougar, —

Who so fleet and strong of h'mb ?
Swift, the Eagle and the Wild-goose,

Answering, swept the tree-tops' rim,
" We can sham<^ thy laggard lover,

Teach his faltering feet to fly.
Lead him safe past Snow-Sprite pitfalls,

Far from Wood-Nymph's siren cry !"

Sprang the stately, fleet Wapitti,

Leaping as with winged stride;
None so fleet and none so kingly,

Antler-crowned, the forest's pride.
'Take my life, O royal maiden —

Yield I this for Love's dear sake —
Of my heart a charm thou'lt fashion,

Fleet as I who wears shall make !"

" Take thee withes of singing branches

That the murmuring winds have kissed;
Rive the threads from out my mantle.

Skilfully, enweaving, twist.
Frame thee wings to deck thy loved one;

On his feet with braided thong
Of thy dark and shining tresses,

Bind with Love-knot, firm and strong !"

" Naught shall then his coming tarry —

Snow-cloud's blight or Frost-death's chill —
And the music of his passing

Shall with joy the wood's gloom fill !"
Laid he down his robe of velvet.

Kindly tribute at her side.
All its richness dark enpurpled

With his life-blood's ebbing tide.

162

BALLADS AND POEMS.

Took she, then, the singing branches,

And the Monarch's riven vest;
Deftly weaved the magic net-work;

Shaped it fair, with dove-plumes drest.
Thongs shej wove of two soft tresses.

Bound them with the mystic tie.
That no mortal may unloosen —

Strong as Love or Destiny.

To his lodge, by fleetest runner,

Sent her gift; — nor tarried she.
Swifter than the North-wind's rushing

Came he, speeding mightily.
Yet, no man might see the passing

Of the winged hunter's feet,
But the music of his snow-wings

On her listening ear floats sweet.

Oft, the silent, lonely trapper.

As he tramps the whitened waste
On his swiftly-gliding snowshoes,

Distant camp to reach in haste.
Hears the spirit-hunter's passing

'Mid the forest's slumber deep,
And the music of his snow-wings,

As he hies his tryst to keep.

ASPIRATIONS.

163

ASPIRATIONS.

"ON EARTH Peace among men of good pleasure!" —
What cry is this that down the ages ringing,
As gladsome marriage-bell?, or angels' singing,
Swelling again in tones whose solemn measure
Wakes in the tired strife-worn soul long weary
Of buffets in life's battle, marches dreary,
An eager longing to possess the treasure

Of a quiet spot to rest him in a world at peace.
Anon amid the stillness of the bivouac's dreaming
The piercing reveille peals forth its strident scream-
ing,
The camp awakes, the hosts advance with banners
streaming ;
'Mid shouts and cries and hoarse command.
And mingled din on every hand.
With wild appeal like men to stand,
The marshalled force in solid band
Exultant greet the mandate of their King : —
"Dream not of peace but wield the sword I bring!"
Yet still above the roar and crash of battle,

And howls of war-dogs straining at their chain,
The clash of steel, the death-hail's ceaseless
rattle,
And groans of mangled men in mortal pain
Is heard a murmur like a summer breeze

164

BALLADS AND POEMS.

Among the swaying pines, which, sweeping

on,
Swells now into a gale, until anon
The storm-clouds burst above the bending
trees; —
And once .again some stricken soul breathes
out
Its prayer for peace, whose welcome, glad re-
frain
Is chanted by a host, until aj::ain

It breaks into an agonizing shout :
"How long, Oh! Lord, shall blood thine image

stain ?"
How long shall nations lift their sword in hate.
Invade, with lustful greed, each other's soil,
Distrust, deceive, their quarrels arbitrate
By force of arms and bloody war's turmoil ?
How long shall man his brother's birthright
spoil ;
By right of might, or right of law, oppress
The weak, and of their goods himself possess —

Enrich himself with fruits of other's toil ?
Among the men bv whom a nation's led —
Who fill the lep-islator's honored seat —
Are Honor, Truth and Duty, obsolete,
And right and wrong perverted terms, or dead?
Do Place, and Power, and Party tand for
these,
And statecraft mean but faction's wrangling

fight,
Is Policy a synonym for Right,

And Loyalty a cloak to change at ease ?
While musing thus I seemed to hear

» I

ASPIRATIONS. 165

A whispered murmur in mine ear,
As if some visitant were near —
Some Seraph from a brighter sphere —
A message singing sweet and , clear :
" When nations love not war, soon wars shall cease.
Then dawns the universal reign of peace.
When man shall own his brotherhood as one,
Then Love shall rule, andl tyrants be undone.
When peoples choose the Right, Love's law fulfil,
Needs must that rulers bend to do their will !"

And do we wait, while hearts beat high with hope,
For succour from the woes that darkling lower.
And look for One to save, who, by his power.
Shall wrong redress and with injustice cope ?
Methinks I seei him now, in radiance bright.
His comely form and features but the shell
That wraps a soul, a pure and limpid well.

Whose hidden springs sustain, refresh, delight.
I crave a speech with one so passing fair.
Commune and question, praying him to tell
The secret of his power, and by what spell
He shall achieve, his high emprise declare.
"And would'st thou then, poor weakling, with thy
dreams of peace and rest,
Rise up and gird theq for a fight, a bloodless new
Crusade, ^

Waged not with forged arms of steel, which, none the
less, shall test
The mettle that is in thee? — pause if so thou art
afraid ; >

For cruel blows may wound thee should they fail of
mortal stroke,

16G

BALLADS AND POEMS.

And heart and brain may weary in their groping for
the hght,
When kindly deed and earnest word but scoff and
sneer provoke,
And cold indifference numb thy soul as chill of
winter's night. ^

In scorn of these cans't thou press on, thy colors float-
ing wide,
Strong in the faith that shall prevail, and conquer at
the last;
Persuade, convince, and other? call to battle by thy
side
'Gainst vested Wrong enthroned as Right through
errors of the past ?
May in thy free, fair northern-land foul war's grim front
ne'er lower; ;
From Wisdom learn the precepts that impel to ways
of peace;
In nation-building act thy part and prove worthy
thy dower.
Thy rest shall come some time, somewhere thy toil
shall have surcease."
And speaking thus his gracious presence seemed
To vanish from my sight, but as it passed
A train of spectral shades in numbers vast
Came trooping by, whose radiant faces beamed
With light ethereal, and their shadowy forms
Resembled that which late mine eyes had seen;
In mould heroic and benignant mien

As men they seemed unscarred by passion's
storms.
Their serried, marshalled ranks advanced along
In panoplied array, with banners spread

ASPIRATIONS.

167

To catch the inspiring breeze that overhead
Flung wide their folds, and bore afar a song

That seemed an echo of an old refrain : —
" 'Peace on the earth, to men naught but good-will/
For God, and Man, and Country, we, until

Our toil and work shall end and Peace shall
reign !"
No deadly arms they bore to force their way,

But in their helms an oriflamme they wore.

In glittering brightness shining on before
To light the path and ambushed foes betray.

Of various legends these and seen, afar —
Here flashes Duty's star serene and stern.
There High Resolvewith dazzling light doth burn,

And Honor's blazing crest no cloud doth mar.
Ideals, Earnest Thought, and Noble Deed

Have each a place, and with inspiring cry

They rush, and Fraud and Error, cowering, fly,
And Captive Conscience from its bond is freed.

Then, gathering strength from every well-won
fray,
They forward, press to reach the nearing goal
That speaks of rest to many a weary soul —

Of freer life, a bright, a better day.

stm»^ww> ffn w i w i a ii > *-'

168

BALLADS AND POEMS.

CANADA, MY LAND, MY LOVE.

L'etranger voit avec un ceil d'envie
Du Saint-Laurent le majestueux cours ;
A son aspect le Canadien s'ecrie : —
O Canada, mon pays, mes amours.

— Sir Geo. Cartier.

GREAT LONE LAND by foot untrodden save where
wandering hunter passes,
Where the caribou and beaver hide in stream and
leafy glade;
Treeless prairie, trackless forest, beetling crags and
dank morasses,
Lakes majestic, rushing rivers, seething rapids, wild
cascade !

Kannata,t in siler.ce sleeping;
The solemn pines a vigil keeping,
Where the forest children nestle 'neath their shade.

IL !

" Aca nada If — nothing find we — this the Eldorado
vaunted,
Where the stones are precious jewels and the sands
with gold are bright ! —

CANADA, MY LAND, MV LOVE. 169

False Colombo, base impostor: home of ghouls and
demon-haunted,
Cheerless land of rock and jungle, buried in a wintry
night !"

Aca nada — barren, fruitless:
Cursed the Don his errand bootless, —
Furled the flag of proud Castile in recreant flight.

III.

See we now a Royal blazon — azure field and lilies
golden —
Spread its folds where Gaspe's breezes kiss the
bosom of the sea !
" Good Saint Lawrence, patron, hail ! for dangers
passed to thee beholden;
In Heaven's name we raise our standard, the sword
and cross our charter free.

Canada, O new-born nation;
Join in praise and invocation;
Te Deum shall its benediction be !"

IV.

Nouvelle France,§ anon we hail thee, fearless hearts,

though few in number;

Soldiers, statesmen, churchmen, laymen, serve thy

thy cause with burning zeal,

Proving faith by life's devotion; rouse ye now from

dreamy slumber 1

Hear the roar of faction's clamour — see the gleam of

foeman'si steel !

Wolfe and Montcalm — heroes dying;

The Fleur-de-lys 'mid carnage lying.

While loud the British guns victorious peal.
12

170

BALLADS AND POEMS.

Ours to guard this peerless birthright, speak we tongue
of France or Britain;
Ours the thriUing inspiration born of noble deeds
well done !
Onward then, thy manhood proving; see in flaming
letters written;
"The weak/ is now a mighty Nation!"* endurhig
firm; while Time shall run.

Canada ! the crowning glory :
Theme for poets' sweetest story,
Our native land ! for us through travail won.

"SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI." 171

''SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI/'

I CHANCED, one day, by a woodland stream
That threaded its silvered way, a-gleam
With dancingf sunlight's mirrored beam.

Among its rocks and sedges;
And canopied under a Maple's shade,
That sentinelled the forest glade,
I dreamily watched the ripples that played

Along the river's edges.

Idly dreaming and drinking in
The breath of the woods — sweet Nectar's kin-
Antidote for the fret and din

That age the city craftsman,
When out on the river I heard the thiash
Of falling oars, with their rythmic plash,
And the chanson's gay and joyous dash

Trolled by some passing raftsman.

At least I thought 'twas this heard, —
But I give you my purest rhyming word,
Although you may doubt and cry, " Absurd !"

On a pine-log there, a-straddle,
A Beaver sat with his houseliold goods,
Like a chopper returning from the woods
When work is done on the high spring floods,

Swinging his tail for a paddle !

172

BALLADS AND POEMS.

Beating the time with, his paddle's sweep,
He chanted in tones both full and deep
A pitiful lay, 'twould make you weep

To hear its doleful measure.
Seeing me beckoning on the bank,
He steered his raft through the sedges dank,
/nd beaching her there with a sounding clank,

Demanded to know my pleasure.

" Oh whither away, my friend ?" I said ;

" Can you not earn your daily bread,

Here in your home, that your sails are spread

In this truly emigrant fashion ?"
He shook thef wet from his jerkin buff,
And wiped away with his furry cuf¥
The tears that sprinkled his whiskers rough,

And thus claimed my compassion :

" I am leaving," he said, " my native land.
Though her name be nroud and her record grand,
But ingratitude' I never will stand —

Come death before dishonor !
My country has taken the fullest toll,
And levied her taxes on each round poll
Of the Beaver clan, till every soul

Hurls maledictions on her.

"To die for one's country is no disgrace : —
'Mong the names that honor's bead-roll grace
A grateful country awards a place

To the soldier who dies! in action.
Do you wonder I shake my native damp
From my dripping coat and quick decamp.

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"SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI." 173

When Fni known to fame by a postage-stamp,
A hat, and a party-faction ?

" When the Heralds quartered a coat-of-arms,
Of beasts and birds and fishes in swarms,
And I saw my hairy-coated cliarms

Its blazoninp^ crest adorning-,
Contented I was to die; my name,
I said, shall have undying fame !
But when the news to my castle came

My joy was turned to mourning."

As he ceased, a patter of drops came down
And showered us over from toe to crown;
It seemed as if her sorrow v/ould drown,

In tears the Maple was weeping.
In a flood that drenched her shapely limbs,
The grief-sapped tears that beauty dims,
Welled from, her bird-eye's round red rims.

From out her wreathed locks peeping.

"'Tis sad, my brother, past all belief,"
Slie said, when sorrow had found relief:
" My life fed yours, we're one in grief

For treatment unprecedented.
I had burned my way to my country's heart
I thought, I had taxed the painter's art
To limn my charms, and for my part

With this would fain be contented.

" I bore it when my tinted leaves
Were bound and pressed in treasured sheaves
To which the fond collector cleaves
As to some dear possession,

:^££_

174 BALLADS AND POEMS,

And Fame seemed very near to me
When thou and I were called to be
Twin emblems in some jubilee

Or St. Jean Baptiste procession.

" My wreathed chaplet Fame had bound
A grateful country's Arms around, —
I deemed my name would far* resound

By Herald's trumpet bruited.
Alas for fondest dreams of fame ! —
I'd voyage with you and hide our sliame —
To native land renounce all claim —

Were my ties less deeply rooted.

"But take, my broth-', a pledge with thee;
This token of love wear thou for me
In thy lonely travels by land or sea,

Nor deem me thus soft-hearted
In wishing to be remembered still;
Though age may wither, and grief me kill,
May kindly fate keep thee from ill

When thou and I are parted !"

The Beaver kissed the leaflet that fell

In his outstretched paws, while the forest dell

Seemed wrapped about with a mystic spell

That breathed its sad insistence.
I helped the Beaver his craft to launch ;
And, straddled aboard its timber staunch —
In his moutli tight-gripped the Ma])le-branch—

He paddled away in the distance.

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A COWARD.

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A TALE OF THE TOWN.

THE City Club has at times been stirred to the
inner circles of its select membership by the agitation
of the " up-town movement," but the proposed change
of quarters has always been voted down by the more
conservative element who cling to the associations
that have gathered with the years about their old home.
Tempting offers for the present site, and most attrac-
tive proffers of new ones, have been put aside more
than once, and the Club still stands, square-shouldered,
imposing, and dignified, as becomes a city magnate,
on one corner of the intersection of two main tho-
roughfares, where it was placed, many years ago, by its
substantial founders. It was a residential neighbor-
hood then, but store and warehouse and great office
building have swallowed house -and church, and their
places know them no more. The arc light and the
trolley-car have thrust themselves in, but the Club's
old-fashioned, unabashed front is immovable, and de-
clines to be improved away. The internal economy
is in keeping with its traditions — substantial, not to
say luxurious, but before all, comfortable. Cooking,
cigars, and wines the best in the city; rich carpets and
hangings of a period when these were bought to last;
ghairg of ample proportions that invite to restful ease,

178

A COWARD.

The cozy smoking-room, with its wide, low win-
dows, is on the corner of the building and commands
a view of both the intersecting streets. In two of its
easiest chairs drawn up beside the bow window open to
the cool evening breeze-^for the^day has been hot and
the room is close — two of the Club's members are filling
as much of them as possible. They are languidly
chatting and watching the bustle in the street, while a
third is reading the papers near by. All three have
the look of men versed in the art of dining and fresh
from the practice of its rites, and are now engaged in
offering the propitiatory incense to| the dyspeptic imp
who hovers near.

" Hallo ! There goes little Strathmore, the new
Rector of St. Cuthbert's," said Reginald Varcoe, from
the depths of one chair, to his neighbor, Gerald Rossi-
ter, in the other, " know him ?"

" Rather ! Don't you remember little ' Cissy'
Strathmore ? Seems almost like yesterday when he
came among us at school with his baby face (and de-
mure ways," replied Rossiter.

" Of course ! I recall hiniinow, and I'll never forget
his first appearance and the boys' demand for his name.
* Cyril Ivan Strathmore,' he said it was, and looked as
if he was afraid of the sound of it." laughed Varcoe.

" Yes !" returned Rossiter, " and I think it was your-
self who objected to the length of it and shortened it
to * Cis' on the spot."

" It stuck as closely as it seemed to fit," laughed
Varcoe again, " for ' Cissy' jit was to the end of our
school days, when he entered College to study for the
Church, and I a broker's olHce, after which I lost trace
of him, or *her,' for a time."

A TALE OF THE TOWN.

179

" I entered the University at the same time to quali-
fy for the Law," continued Rossiter, "and his utter
lack of all qualities that impress the average assertive
undergraduate was so powerfully evident as to draw
forth their resentment, and, finally, undisguised con-
tempt, which took form in the epithet ' Coward,' with
which they dismissed him from their thoughts and
occupations."

The man in the third chair seemed disturbed atl ,this
conversation, which he could not help overhearing,
and his reading of the papers made 'unsatisfactory
progress as Rossiter proceeded :

" He married soon after leaving College — a high-
spirited girl, much too good for him — and they buried
themselves in the wilds of a little country parish. His
wife was ambitious and urged him to use his influence
in high quarters to obtain a city appointmetit, but he
seemed to lack all desire to bestir himself. This,
naturally, brought about dissensions, she urging, till
he, finally yielding, applied for the vacancy in one of
the smaller city churches and got it. — how, Heaven
only knows !"

" Yes, I remember," said Varcoe, "and further, how,
almost in spite of himself, his wife spurred him on to
aim higlii and almost forced him to accept his present
post at St. Cuthbert's, where she at last found a sphere
congenial to her tastes. Then came the scandal — "

" In which] the woman came off worst, as usual,"
interjected Rossiter. *' Never heard particulars.
Don't relish these gossipings much, anyway. All I
know) is, she is gone, and he is there enjoying the posi-
tion she helped him to."

" Ugh ! The brute !" exclaimed Varcoe. " Bit of

:»>

180

A COWARD.

a tiff — high words — and the * Coward' struck her,
turned her out of doors and — "

"IT'S A LIE ! A vile, black LIE, straight from the
father of lies !" was hissed in their startled faces, and
Pemberton, their neighbor, his chair overturned, his
paper crushed in his trembling hand, his face pale, his
eyes flashing, confronted them as they now stood fac-
ing him in dumb amazement. Each expecting the
other about to forcibly resent the insult, time was given
for flushed passion to cool and better counsels prevail,
when Rossiter said, in, as easy a manner as he could
assume off-hand :

" Oh ! come, Pemberton, that's going too far !" to
which Varcoe added :

" Don't make a scene here, old boy, we'll forgive
youi if you'll explain."

The provocation nuist be great that would move the
dignified merchant, Henry Pemberton, of the Board of
Trade, to express his feelings in such language towards
fellow-members in the precincts of the staid City Club.
Recognizing the lapse, as his passion cooled, his apo-
logy was prompt :

** I forgot myself, I know," lie said, " but when I
heard you two fellows, who should have known better,
gossiping like peddlars and vilifying one of the noblest
men in the city, I was not moved to pick and choose
words."

" Isn't it true ?" said both at once.

" True ! — the foulest slander ever concocted !"

" Conmion rumor has it so," Varcoe ventured.

"And \,'e had it on seemingly good authority,"
apologized Rossiter,

A TALE OF THE TOWN. 181

" Then contradict it on mine, if not in my words,"
said Pemberton, decidedly.

"Certainly, with pleasure," they both assented, "give
us the facts."

" Here they are then — I have them first hand, as
Strathmore has been my lifelong friend. But let us
sit down": —

" We were chums as boys in our little country town
where our families were neighbors. Cyril was of a
high-strung, nervous temperament, that ha'l little sym-
pathy from the sturdy boys of our set, and, as it was
thought that the associations of a boarding school
might tend to counteract this, he was sent to Bishop's
Court School, where you first made his acquaintance,
while I remained at home attending our High School,
till I left to enter business in the city. Our friendship
was resumed when he entered the University here and
continued till his unfortunate marriage, to which his
family and friends were utterly, opposed. The girl was
a coquette and heartless flirt, and, once engaged, re-
fused to release him, fancying she saw in his influential
connections stepping stones to a higher social circle
than her own. His high sense of honor held him back
from breaking his plighted word, and they were mar-
ried, as you know, but the utter incongruity .of their
natures was a bar to all harmony. There were, fortu-
nately or unfortunately, no children born to them, and
she liad little taste and less desire for home's quiet
joys and cares. Her flirting propensities asserted
themselves and resulted, first in gossip, then in open
scandal, so much so that he broke up his little home
and accepted the charge of his present parish, with its
arduous labors, in the hope that new associations and

182

A COWARD.

work mig-lit bring peace, or at least distraction. To
his congregation, and in the public eye, he seemed to
be filling his place, with honor and respect, while, on
the contrary, though kept concealed from all but a
few of his intimates, things at home rapidly grew
worse. She took to tippling in a quiet way, getting
her supplies smuggled in with the household groceries.
Then the devil came in the fine clothes of a good-
l(.>oking society man and the ruin was complete. She
left her home, one night, without a word and disap-
peared as completely as if the river had engulfed her,
and ^11 efforts of the discreet detectives employed by
her husband have so far failed to discover any trace.
He has a notion that she is still in the city, however,
and, knowing well the end of such a course, he searches
day and night among the haunts of the pavement waifs
for some word of her, living or dead, and it is pro-
bably on suclx sad errand he was bent when you saw
him pass along just now."

A strained silence held the trio as the narrator ceas-
ed, and after a pause, Rossiter said, holding out his
hand :

" Forgive me, Pemberton, I didn't know. Your
words, now, are quite understandable and fit the case
exactly."

'* And me, too," assented Varcoe, *' if you'd called
us ' cads' we'd have forgiven you. But it seems to
me," he continued, " that he'd better look elsewhere
than the slums — it takes time to get there, and the dis-
appearance is recent."

The three sat silently smoking, each busied with his
own thoughts. They had dined early, this evening,
and, few members having yet arrived from their vari-

llW Ili L i i li i n

A TALE OF THE TOWN.

183

ous places of business, they had the smoking-room to
themselves. It was a different scene outside, however.
Their bow-window overlooked the busiest corner of the
city, and at this hour, when office and factory and ihop
gave, up their crowds of tired workers, who hurried
homewards, on foot, in car, cab, or well-appointetl
private equipage, it was vibrant with the pulsating of
the great arteries centering here at the heart of the
city. They watched in silence the ever-changing
panorama passing before them till a sudden rush of
the crowd, and, above their horrified cries and hoarse
shouts, a woman's agonized scream , brought them to
their feet. An accident, evidently, and serious. Hur-
rying into the street to learn the nature of it, and aid
if necessary, their eager enquiries, as they elbowed
their wa" to the scene, elicited from a policeman only
the meagre information : — " Thim dom trolley ke-ars
agin !"

Following in the wake of his burly form dividing
the crowds, they reached the spot and soon gathered
some particulars from the spectators. A reckless cab-
man driving two ladies home in a cab, misjudging his
distance, had attempted to cross the tracks in advance
of a car, with the inevitable result : horse, fatally in-
jured and awaiting only the kindly bullet; cab, a wreck;
driver, cut and bleeding but not seriously hurt; one
passenger much shaken but unharmed, and the other
reported badly, if not fatally, injured. Her com-
panion was bending over her in anxious ministr)^ as
the friends pushed forward to aid, but one glance and
they^ stood transfixed! The eyes snapping defiantly
in her still handsome face — the elegant and modish
attire — the half-averted look, or bold stare, with which

MBMia

MHMi

184

A COWARD.

the crowd regarded her, or the covert glance exchanged
among themselves, told the unspeakable story, and not
a man, woman, or stray gamin in all the crowd but
instinctively knew her for what she was !

With clang of gong, the ambulance rattled up, and
the attendant doctor jumped from his seat by the
driver and reached the injured woman just as a little
clergyman had succeeded in forcing his way through
the crowd with proffers of aid. The big policeman
recognized! the Rector of St. Cuthbert's, and strove
to dissuade him :

" Shure, yer 'anner, 'tis not fer th' loikes av ye t'
tooch her. Lave her t' me an' th' docther, ware uzed
t' sooch wurruk !"

" Bobby's right, Mr. Strathmore. With due respect,
I think my services are needed rather more than yours.
Besides, don't you see ?" he added, significantly.

* Yes ! yes! I know, I know; but the poor child
seems seriously hurt, if not dying, and shall I hold
back from my duty ?" he urged as they stooped over
the prostrate form and the doctor proceeded to make
a hasty examination of the injured woman — her com-
panion looking on in agitated concern, and the crowd,
as is its custom, interfering to a degree only deter-
mined by the reach of the policeman's club.

The doctor took the limp hand of the woman whom
the Rector had gently raised and was supporting
against his knee. His serious look as he felt the pulse
and then bent down to place his hand over the heart
changed to one of alarm asl his eye fell on the white,
drawn face of the clergyman fixed in steady gaze upon
the pallid features; and when he saw the Rector's head
fall over the bruised form he was supporting, the doc-

A TALE OF THE TOWN.

185

tor prepared to administer to him the stimulant he had
at hand for the other, remarking to the burly police-
man :

" Fainted ! — no wonder — all nerves — no business
here at all. Bring the stretcher and we'll take her to
the Hospital, and do you call a cab for Mr. Strath-
more and get him home at once when he comes to !"

These words acted with swifter effect than the doc-
tor's draught could have done. Tlie clergyman, fully
sensible, straightened up and, with a commanding ges-
ture of his outstretched, free hand, said :

" No, doctor ! not to the Hospital, to my house,
please !"

" What ! — " ejaculated the amazed physician with
scant politeness.

'* Shure yer 'anner's clane daft ! — Cum alang wid th'
stritcher, now ! Kape back, all av yez, an' give th' min
a show, will yez ?" cried the policeman, in the impor-
tant way of his kind in such a crisis.

" Stop !" interrupted the voice and appealing hand
of the Rector. *' Good friends, I have every right ;
this — this, lady, is my — my wife !"

" Howly Mother ! — God forgive her !"

** Good Heavens ! Mr. Strathmore, you can't mean
it ! The man's mad," the doctor added in a vigorous
aside.

" No, doctor, not mad, only broken hearted, and I
count on your professional sympathy and kind help."

There was no mistaking the solemn tones in which
these words were spoken, and the broken body was at
once tenderly lifted into the ; ambulance. The crowd
had not had such a sensation offered to them
in the memory of the oldest among them, and,
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186

A COWARD.

as the doctor and ^he Rector took their places
and slowly drove off through the passage forc-
ed by the police who had gathered as the news
of the accident spread, they broke into a cheer that
shook the windows Df^the Club on the corner, and
then swiftly dispersed with appetites whetted for the
particulars of the case they knew would be dished up
with appropriate scareheads in the morning papers.

The three friends slowly sought the retreat of their
Club and in silence dropped into chairs in the first
quiet corner they could find.

" Well !" said Rossiter at last, " won't somebody kick
me, or at least fit me with a name ?"

" Skulking cowards, are we not " assented Varcoe,
"ashamed to show ourselves or offer aid to a friend
in distress !"

"We have seen something of the Divine in poor
humanity," said Pemberton, "and we may well feel
small and mean and shamed beside it. The doctor
told me that the woman was dead — must have been
killed instantly — and, moreover, he was sure Strath-
more knew it when he acknowledged her as his wife !"

S,.^ ONNETS e^^^^
e^^VlLLANELLES^

i?!,N^-,"-^<

I M " ~I

SONNETS.

^^V^^W^V

SHE LOOKETH FORTH AS THE MORNING.

MORN-MAID, "fair as the Moon, clear as the Sun,"
She all her empire fronts, wide-eyed, serene;
Yet terrible as banner'd army's sheen
She shall be in her wrath when, rolling dun.
Cloud-wraiths of night, all shapes unclean that shun
The day, ignoble wrong, and all things mean
Shall flee her god-like rage, nor intervene
Their ghoulish hate to stay the Onward-One.

All realms are hers, to full possess. Rich dower
Of gifts she bears to cheer; and ills that rise
Imj>erious in stricken ones shall flee
Her sovereign touch. Unsoiled as dew-gemmed
flower
Greeting Morn's kiss, smiles through her Truth-
lit eyes
The rare in-dwelling Soul of Purity.

190

SONNETS.

ALONE.

NOT he, wrapt in isome ample solitude,

Whose towering peaks buttress the arching blue:
Or, where the dim, scant gleam sifts faintly through
The gloom and tapers the cathedral'd wood.
Nor when, his cell's door shut, he, calm, would brood
On deep things hid, haply entreat anew
The olden boon, in strain of lusty thew,
The spent wrestler compelled from the All-Good.
Acclaimed in that great throng of living dead,
He sweeps vast, peopled shades, the peer of
kings.
Who sit, effulgent, on Mind's ivory throne,
Hold speech, and sweet delights before him spread
To cheer and stay as the crowd's laughter rings
And through their streets a stranger glides
alone !

VENGEANCE IS MINE.

191

VENGEANCE IS MINE.

FROM Eden's joys Earth's erring parents flee
The driving sword, flaming in Cherub hand;
In tears of sweat to win from God-curst land
The bread of sorrow, so the stern decree.
Travail'd in Sorrow, I Sin's dark progeny
Of Envy, Hate, and M'lrder, lecherous band,
Work their fell deeds, and lo, the thirsty sand
Drips red with' brother's blocd spilled treacherously.
Banned vagabond, by God and man abhorred,
The murderer slinks, pleading with bitter wail
'Gainst punishment too great e'en for his
crime.
Vengeance who takes on Cain shall feel the sword
Of Vengeance seven-fold keen him swift assail.
Lest he atonement bar e'er Cain's set time !

192

SONNETS.

QUEBEC

IMPERIOUS, throned above the blue expanse
Of flowing tide that laps the cliff, and slips
Past prisoned logs and chains of anchored ships,
Straining in leash for swift deliverance !
The Old ill brooks the New; old world romance
Invades the mart, breathes from the muzzled lipo
Of war-dogs couchant on their curb, and drips
From blood-stained battlement. Anon, perchance,
From cloister-bell quaint summons tinkling flows.
Waking pale ghosts that flit in cowl and hood.
Or stately glide, or clank in grim array —
Dream-shades of vanished night. Morn, break-
ing, glows.
Flushing roof, spire, and frowning gun in flood
Of sunlight, presage of a new-born day!

Bil lM W JWiWti OTil tW .< " »< H > f 8»<wv

AS CYNOSURE UNDIMMED.

193

AS CYNOSURE UNDIMMED.

FLOATING defiant over subject seas
That ^whelming rise and hiss their rage in vain;
Where envious foemcn's blows unceasing rain,
Yon oriflamb itsi challenge to the breeze
Flings wide. Heat, storm, nor traitor, these
. Dim not the lustre of its crimson stain
Our fathers' red life dyed, who for our gain
Wooed death and fame in blood-bought victories.
Emblem of Empire vast, of old undreamed,
Meeting the rising, and the setting sun.
Thee loyal homage gratefully we pay,
Hail thee our choice! For us thou hast redeemed
A Country, dowered a Home, and won
A share in Greater Britain's onward sway.

194

SONNETS.

OUR BIRTHRIGHT.

GO ! read the patent of thine heritage,

Inscribed in glowing words that flash and burn
With pregnant import. Con it well and learn
The thrilling taleithat lights the storied page.
See Faith and Valor hand-lo-hand engage
Opposing powers, and by their prowess turn
The Wild into a puissant Realm, and earn
A deathless fame, bright to the latest age !

'Tis thine and mine! Shall we then hold it light-
Despise our birthright, as some base-born churl,
And recreant yield it with a nerveless hand.
Or stain our scutcheon with a Judas blight ?
When traitors hiss do thou, indignant, hurl
Thy challenge back: /It is my native land !"

— *.^.

THE (JIANT.

195

THE GIANT.

GREAT River of the North, majestic stream,
Titan, begot of god-wed mother, Eartli!
What awful, world-racked throes ushered thy birth?
No weakling's cradle rocked thy infant dream;
But, couched on Nature's breast, the! Eagle's scream
Thy lullaby, thou stretch'd'st thy brawny girth,
While his peaks, trembling, echoed to thy mirth
As thou did'st wake to know thy strength supreme !
Now, to thy l^air, where beasts and wilder men
Do rage and bite, whilst thou dost, sodden,
sleep,
Thy Master comes, and thou'rt no longer
free;
In fretting chains, by crag and mist-wraithed fen,
Forth leads, and bids thee cleave, full wide and
deep,
For Him, a portal to the rock-barred Sea !

196

SONNETS.

MONTREAL*

HAIL to thoe. Royal City! Like a Queen
Thou sittest on thy throne in regal state,
Ruling thy servitors, that on thee wait,
With courtly dignity and noble mien.
Under thy canopy of maples green
Thou takest tribute at thy castle's gate,
Borne in by, white-winged messengers, and great
Their golden store; but richer far, I ween,

Thou art in loyal hearts tlxat beat for thee;
That turn to thee as pilgrim to a shrine,
Or wanderer in foreign lands toward home.
Wealthy in memories; thou hast the key
To treasures of a storied past, a mine
Of riches for thy sons in time to come.

t
t

n*v

INSPIRATION.

197

INSPIRATION.

WHERE softly steal fantastic shadows grim
O'er bannered wall, limned saint, prone effigies.
And time-etched brass, sleeps, dust-choked, mute as
these,
The Voice that stirred the Minster's arches dim.
With master-touch, obedient fingers skim
In eager joyance o'er the yielding keys,
And the groined vault is filled with harmonics
That soar and swell in grand, triumphant hynm.
Thus some great soul, cloistered amid the gloom
And shades of prisoning shell, in silence waits
The word inbreathed that shall to the dumb
clod
Give speech. As winged spirit from its tomb,
His message flies — nathless the erst-barrcd
gates —
And, hushed, men whisper: "Hark! the voice
of God!"

. i

198

SONNETS.

THROUGH CANVAS DOORS.

WHAT witchery is this that o'er me steals
With magio spell, as dreamily I lie
On couch of fragrant boughs? No comrade nigh.
The woods are hushed, their curtained gloom conceals
A silent choir. The shimmering lake reveals
A mirrored picturing of cloud-flecked sky
And tree-crowned hill. The weird and mocking cry
Of wandering loon 'mid answering echoes peals.
And save for this, or where the wanton trout
With eager splash disturb the limpid blue,
All Nature sleeps, and bids the tired heart
Rest in her arms that, sheltering, round about
Enfold, and, as a child, drink in anew
A balm to soothe life's fret and fevered smart.

S'.'i*

^gfVj^H v HI wj c ^JCTnuy

'MID LOFTY PEAKS.

199

'MID LOFTY PEAKS.

DREAM on! prophetic soul, thy vision clear
Sweeps far beyond the ken of groundling eyes
Dimmed with the glitter^ of the tinselled prize
Luring the sordid s'^ul to blindness drear.
By soaring pinions high up-borne, O Seer,
On flights of winging thought, we see thee rise
To dizzy heights of dream-land's distant skies,
Waiting, expectant, hidden truths to hear,

When thou in prescient spirit slialt translate,
In song, the mysteries shown thee in the mount
To Neophites who would their meaning con.
The jostling crowdl may mock thy mean estate
And deem thee poor, unknowing of the fount
Of wealth thou hast in fee; heed not, dream
on !

200

SONNETS.

'^•

:} {■■

ON CONQUEST BENT.

BEAR me ! my bark, where hides the water-sprite
In shadowed deeps, whose crystal ripples lave
The pebbled shore, and fringing rushes wave
Their arrowy stems above the gold and white
Of lilies floating on their cushions light.

Her crested herald starts — gay, thieving knave —
From some o er-hanging branch, that vantage gave.
With harsh, discordant note, and errant flight,

He seeks her favored haunt, where yon cool rill
Its sweetness merges in the shady pool;

Here sports the blythesome nymph in wan-
ton) glee.
My witching lure I cast with artful skill ; ,

Fling, too, my heart, nor doubt the olden rule
Shall wm my love that, yielding, hies to me.

THE AWAKENING.

201

THE AWAKENING.

BESIDE a rill that cleaves the jewelled mead
In twain, dreaming of love, Youth, sleeping, lay;
Unheeding the fierce Sun's devouring ray
That, withering, smites. Sweet pity comes to plead
With Love and succor follows hard the need.
Shadowing with arching wings that gently sway,
And fan his pillowed locks, Love broods alway,
In ministry' divine from passion freed.

Upsprings the sleeper from soft, fitful dreams.
In amorous clasp that radiant form to seize,
And pure, chaste lips with kiss unholy stain:
Untempered pour the hot, relentless beams
O'er brow and dumb, parched lip. On trem-
bling knees
He falls, alone with fretful passion's pain.

ill

202

SONNETS.

I'-

TO THE END.

WHAT ills it if, with unseen, deadly stroke.
Swift falls the bolt from out the summer blue —
Or, won the heights, the shot, fell-aimed and true,
Stills the acclaims that split the battle's smoke ?
Would'st thou the fevers and the wounds that yoke
The warrior soul to useless clay — bestrew
With pitying tears a weary couch; or, view
In guerdoned sleep him wrapped in victor's cloak ?
Who choose the hard and siren-tempted way
Where points the God-like, stern, unbending
One—
Loud-heralded, or wanting e'en one friend
To hearten, cry " Press on !" or, falling, stay —
Halt ye nor reck! Or quick, or dead, "Well
done !"
And valor's crowned cross the glorious end.

VILLANELLES.

^^ ^^ ^^

THE VILLANELLE,

AS floats the silvery tinkle of a fairy bell

Calling the revellers to moonlit elfin-ring,
The rhythmic tripping of the dainty Villanelle

Ripples its sparkling flow, as purling brooks that well
Limpid and pure from moss-hid source, in woodland
spring,
As floats the silvery tinkle of a fairy bell. .,

Titania's wand, perchance, 'tis weaves the subtle spell
Its witching measure breathes, her laughing fays
who sing
The rhythmic tripping of the dainty Villanelle

In li(iuid notes wafted from grove and flower-starred

dell
Adown the evening breeze, melodious whispering,
As floats the silvery tinkle of a fairy. bell.

What mortal ear may catch, what tongue essay to swell
The fairies' evensong, and sweet-voiced, lilting, flmg
The rhythmic tripping of the dainty Villanelle ?

As tlie Sea's slumber-song breathes in the sounding
shell ;
As the bird's matin hymn fluted on joyous wing;
As floats the silvery tinkle of a fairy bell.
The rhythmic tripping of the dainty Villanelle.

204 VILLANELLES.

BY LEAFY WAYS.

THE joyous music of the reel's glad singing,

The mirrored bark, the gleam of paddle-blade,
The crack of rifle through the forest ringing.

The camp-fire's curling smoke its shadow flinging

On canvas walls: as Wood-Nymph's serenade
The joyous nuisic of the reel's glad singing.

Skims the reed-beds the wood-duck nestward winging;

The browsing deer flees, startled and afraid.
The crack of rifle through the forest ringing.

The chattering Fisher, on his frail perch swinging.

Protests, as interrupts his bujiy trade,
The joyous music, of the reel's glad singing.

Flicking the drops to plume and crest light clingnig,

The Diver laughs to hear loud peal and fade
The crack of rifle through the forest ringing.

E'en as I sit and muse comes memory bringing

The tented scene, neath odorous balsam shade;
The joyous music of the reel's glad singing,
The crack of rifle through the forest ringing.

MMillHHMHBHHHHMBHMMaHliHiMl

I. M. B.

205

LITTLE blue-eyed Marguerite,

Mischief-loving, merry maid, —
Lips just made for kisses sweet.

These to take 'tis surely meetj

Wouldst thou ! Oh, I'm not afraid,
Little blue-eyed Marguerite !

Fly me not with eager feet,

Pouted lips and frown-arrayed ! —
Lips just made for kisses sweet !

Cry a truce, for peace we'll treat;

A kiss exchange. Why so dismayed
Little blue-eyed Marguerite ?

Others there may ho:, petite,

Eyes, as blue, and not so staid ; —
Lips just made for kisses sweet !

Jealous ! Tears ! Why all this heat ?

Summer storms are soon allayed.
Little blue-eyed Marguerite —
Lips just made for kisses sweet.

206

VILLANELLES.

WITH ROD AND LINE.

A year ago, or thereabout,

I crossed the hay-field by the brook,
With rod and hne„ to catch a trout.

Black-eyed Justine, with muscles stout,

And forked prong, the sweet hay shook,-
A year ago, or thereabout.

The Cure's pride, demure, devout;

Monsieur may pass — nor will she look —
With rod and line, to catch a trout.

Fence-rails between, a merry shout;

" Sure catch your fish before you cook !"
A year ago, or thereabout !

The streamlet's windings, in and out,

I followed far, if in some nook
With rod and line, to catch a trout.

Nor fish, nor maid with smile or pout ! —

Ah! me, that I thei way mistook —
A year ago, or thereabout.
With rod and line, to catch a trout !

RONDEAUX.

f^^ ^^^ ^^

THE ENCHANTRESS.

HER beauty spot, ruff, powdered hair,
In fashion of a time forgot,
When, captive to that witcliing snare —
Her beauty spot —

Thro' minuet and gay gavotte

The gallants bend, with roguish air

Smile down on me, who love her not.

Elusive nymph, my mistress fair,
Who flees me to her crystal grot
Coyly to hide the dimples rare
Her beauty spot.,

208

RONDEAUX.

NICOTINA.

NOR count it sin, or woful plight,
The gipsy's wiles have snared nie in !
I willing wear her yoke ;so light,
Nor count in sin.

Such ])lunip, brown waist and satin skin
Would tempt resolve of anchorite ; —
Runs hotter blocKl my veins within I

Ope, toying fingers ! seize the sprite,
And nectar-breathing kisses win
For lips that wait their sweet delight,
Nor count it sin !

BITTER-SWEET.

I would forget ! and Memory sings
Her siren song, with its sweet fret.
And soft, tumultuous whisperings,
1 would forget.

As foes some guarded keep beset

With beam, and bolt from strenuous slings,

And storm the breached parapet

Thoughts, trooping, come; their challenge rings;
An my heart's steeled amulet
Prove traitor, and the portal swings! —
I would forget.

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REBEL OR PATRIOT.

A STORY OF '37.

" I have read, somewhere or other, tliat History is
Philosophy teaching by example." — Bolingbroke.

" HAS it then comq to this ? Are a people's aspi-
rations to be laughed at as the vaporings of a morbid
imagination, their just demands spurned with con-
tempt, and their dearest rights trampled under the
heavy heel of a brutal alien, who, by the fate of con-
quest, now rules in this land of our love, and seems
to think that the Treaty of Cession gave him the souls
of a people to despoil as he did their lands and goods!
The veriest cur that scuttles along the alleys of the city
will turn to bay in desperation if cornered by his pur-
suer, and shall not we, in whose veins flows the best
blood of France, rise in the strength of a righteous
cause audi avenge the studied insults heaped upon us.
We would live in peace, forget the mistaken past, and,
hand-in-hand with him, strive together to work out
the new destiny that God has in store for our beloved
Country. He will none of us or our ideas, his haugh-
ty notion of going hand-in-hand with the 'besotted
habitants' as he contemptuously call us, is thus" —
and the speaker, with a quick, fierce motion, grasped

sMaaFSMWKM

■1

■(

i
I

212

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

his left wrist with his right hand, the intensity of his
emotion being shown in the marks of his fingers
thereon as he flung his hands apart in an expressive
gesture of protest and desi)air.

"What does it then inean," he continued,"when the
voice of a people tlirough their elected representatives
is stifled, and their complaints ignored ?"

* War, war, 'my noble father !

Thus I fling it;

And fair-eyed peace, farewell!'

" But they tell us we are not prepared for this, point
to the garrisons of British soldiers ready at a mo-
ment's notice to sally forth and crush the first attempt
at sedition in the blood of our deluded 'dupes, who
shall be shot down in the field, or reserved for the
traitor's death on the gibbet. What of it ? ' It is
the cause and not the death that makes the martyr,'
and were the dangers a thousand times as great,

* My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a free-born people long debate
Which of the two to choose — slavery or death?'"

Strange words these, surely treasonable, and, one
would think, hardly suited to the time of the first year
of Her Gracious Majesty's reign, or proper to the
speech of a loyal subject in her growing Canadian
colony. However we may juage of them, there was
no mistaking the meaning of them to the speaker, or
interpreting the fiery ejaculations and impassioned
gestures as other than the outward signs of a noble
spirit stirred to its profoundest depths.

A STORY OF 'IJ.

213

The time was towards the evening of the 24th of
November, 1837. A dull, leaden sky threatening
snow; the hard frozen ground and fast forming ice;
the ungainly limbs and branches of the trees rising
gaunt and bare, save for the few shrivelled leaves that
still clung to their stems in spite of the whistling winds
that had dispersed their scattered companions, all be-
tokened a typical day of eaily Canadian winter. The
scene was the valley of the Richelieu River, truthfully
described as the " Garden of Canada." In the verdant
beauty of its summer dress, or the golden richness of
its ripening fields of grain, it would seem as if the ap-
pellation were fitly bestowed, but in its preparati )ii
for a long winter sleep, the blue waters of the Riche-
lieu hiding beneath a fast-forming icy covering, and
the signs of tumult and disturbance in the very air,
desolation seemed to claim it for its own.

Here it was at a spot about midway l)et\veen the
little village of Chambly, at the head of navigation,
and Sorel, at the mouth of the river where it opens
into the St. Lawrence, that the leaders of the " Pa-
triotes," as, they were called, had gathered what num-
ber they could muster} of the habitants of the district
and persuaded them — ill-equipped as they were — to
make a stand and offer armed resistance to the author-
ities. It is not our purpose here to discuss the politi-
cal questions that disturbed the country at the time,
suffice it to say that the French party did suffer under
substantial grievances, which, however, the more
thoughtful of their leaders did not despair of overcom-
ing by constitutional means, and strongly discounten-
anced the more.' hot-headed in their wild appeals to
the last resort of the oppressed. A skirmish iiad

(

'I 1

214 REBEL OR PATRIOT.

already taken place at St. Denis, a few miles below,

the day before our story opens, and the forces under

( j Col. Gore were compelled to retire temporarily on their

base at Sorel. Encouraged by what appeared to be
the victory of their cause, the people of the neighbor-
ing" village of St. Charles were being aroused to a
more determined attitude, and now awaited what
might follow such an — probably on both sides — unex-
pected opening of the campaign. Such in brief was

the situation; now let us take a look at him of the
f ( ...

' ! fiery and eloquent tongue discovered in the openmg

sentences recorded above.

Raoul de Bienville, the son of the seigneur of the
district, was now in his twenty-first year. He had
been sent, as was, and still is, the custom with the
wealthier country folk, while very young, to the clas-
sical College of Montreal, and having completed the
eight years' course, was entered to study law in the
office of one of the best known French practitioners.
Quickly falling in with the customs of his young com-
patriots, he joined a political club, and, being specially
gifted among men all born orators, was soon in de-
mand on occasions of elections and meetings, where
his eloquent speech was noticed by the leaders of his
1 party, and he was marked as a rising young man.

• j 1 he ardent, emotional, and passionate characteristics

- f of his race being intensified in his nature, he was soon

drawn into the advanced rank of the Patriate cause,
and on the first mutterings of revolt he, disregarding
the wiser counsels of his friends in the city, hurried
oflf to his native county to wait developments.
See him now as he paces excitedly up and down the

A STORY OF 'n.

215

stretch of road before his father's house in the gather-
ing twiUght !

The house stands a Httle back from the road and
overlooking the river; a prominent object; a veritable
enfant-du-sol ; the creation of a past century; a long,
low building with a frontage of perhaps eighty feet, its
massive four square stone walls, three feet thick^
pierced by four many-paned French windows on each
side of ai wide centre door with its colunmed portico.
Rising above the single storey on the ground floor,
stretched the high-pointed, shingled roof, with its
double row of little dormer windows, flanked by the
solid chimney which forms the apex of each gable
end wall. A row of tall Normandy poplars is planted
just inside the low paling fence. In one corner of tlie
house lot stands the familiar well frame, with its long,
overhanging sweep, and solid iron-bound well bucket
attached. In the other, surrounded by a low railing,
rises a tall wooden cross with its little glass-front
shrine inserted at the junction of the arms, and, radiat-
ing from this centre in the form of a star, are seen the
spear, the reed, and other emblems of the Crucifixion ;
above these! a wooden tablet bearing the inscription
INRI; the whole surmounted by the Cock, and, in
more peaceful times, an object of devotion to thp
passing habitant.

Who would know the natty law student from the
city in his strange dress — half uniform, half that of the
ordinary farmer of the district — adopted by the insur-
gents as a patriotic badge? On his head was the well-
known faded blue tuque of the farmer which, though
now pulled down over his ears to protect them from
the cold, did not conceal his handsome, clear-cut fea-

216

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

tures and the glossy black hair worn long and flowing.
His dark eyes flashed out in his excitement from their
setting in the rich olive of his face, which was devoid
of hair, save for the long, dark, and gracefully curving
eyebrows. His coat, cut after the fashion of the time,
was made of the grey ctoffe-dii-pays, short in the waist,
long in the .skirts, \vide in the cuffs, and finished c^ff
with a low cut, deep collar and wide rolling lapels.
Around his waist was bound the folds of a sash, of
the kind known to this day as ctenture flcc/ie\ and
probably handed down to him as a precious heir-loom
through several generations. His breeches, of the
same material as his coat, were thrust into the legs
of a pair of the ordinary red leather beef moccasins of the
country, which are still the usual foot wear of ihe
French Canadian farmer, and whose easy fit is now
appreciated by the city sportsman in his excursions.

Again those fiercely muttered exclamations; the
upturned frozen earth in the wheel ruts crunching
beneath his mocassins as he rapidly paces his beat,
with head bent, and hands tightly clasped behind his
back :

"It must be! we must fight it out and see it to the
bitter end if need be ! But she, my fair English lily,
what will she say when I tell her of my hopes, both as
regards herself and my unhappy country ? Will she
listen to me, or laugh at me, or, worst of all, treat me
with the cold indifference her people ever show to us?
Is it a wild fancy, this dream of mine, that two young
hearts should join together and strive in bonds of love
to symbolize the peaceful union of two divergent in-
terests ? Or is this new born love but another burden
laid upon my soul to try it as by a heavenly fire ? I

A STORY OF '37.

217

cannot, I will not give her up, for I love her! I love
her! God help me if I am wrong in doing so, but
to-night decides my fate. She promised to meet me
here and — "

"Ah! Mademoiselle Evelyn — Miss Gordon I
should say," this with a courtly bow of easy, natural
gracefulness, " you startled me !"

" You said you had something important to tell mc.
Monsieur de Bienville, and I came to hear it, though
why you couldn't say it in the library by a comfortable
fire, instead of bringing me out here at the risk to my
bodily self of a cold in the head, and to my sensitive
spirit of a lecture from your stately mother on the pro-
per behaviour of a young lady, I can't for the life of
me see. But forgive me, you seem worried and
anxious about something — and this dress — what docs
it mean ? Believe me, if I can be of any service to
you — any advice — "

"Advice! No, mademoiselle, unfortunately my friends
have lately been giving me an overdose of that and I
want no more from you — fool! is this the way to win a
lady's favor — pardon my boorish speech. Miss Gordon,
but I am troubled and spoke hastily, I want a kind
word even more than I do advice, even of the best.
Listen: You cannot but have seen that important
events have been impending and that our down-trod-
den people have at last aroused themselves to a final
appeal to arms. You have heard the glorious news
from St. Denis how Providence has guided our efforts
and given us a great victory. Here in my old home
the people are burning to join the holy cause, and

neiir io show them an exam-

'• '1

ightly

Seign

pie. I do so! this dress is my pledge! I am one of

218

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

the Patriotes, sworn to do, and, if need be, die, in the
sacred name of Freedom !"

"Oh, Monsieur Raoul!" she burst out, and, at the
more friendly form of address he started in surprise,
" think, I implore you, of what you are doing ; even if
your cause were ever so just, what chance have you
of making any stand against the might of England's
power, which will surely be brought in full force to
crush any puny attempts your ill-disciplined liabitants
can make to overcome the government? Don't take
my poor, and, as you may possibly say, biased judg-
ment, but listen to the advice of your wiser leaders;
or your beloved cure, Father Phillipe, he will tell
you — "

But with an impatient gesture he interrupted her
excitedly : —

" Oh ! talk me no cures, false shepherds who sell the
sheep they should carefully tend! as for our leaders,
the noblest of them believe as I do, for the rest, time-
servers and place-hunters — Bah !"

Without heeding his interruption she continued:

" As for the temporary check offered to Col. Gore's
expedition yesterday, think you it means anything, or
will have any greater effect than to further exasperate
the soldiers, already maddened by the foul murder of
poor Lieut.^ Weir by some of your ' brave patriots,'
into whose hands he had been thrown by fate a de-
fenceless prisoner ?"

" Oh ! Mademoiselle, no one regrets that sad event
more than I and others in command, who, if wo had
been there would certainly have prevented it. Would
you have a cause responsible for the blunders of each
of its ignorant adherents ?"

A STORY OF '37.

219

Ignoring his question she continued: "Do you not
know that Col. Wetherall is inarching from Chambly,
and that it is the purpose of the commander-in-chief
to effect a junction of the two cohnrms which will
probably be done at about this very spot, and by to-
morrow morning at the latest ? What can you do ?
Where will your poor ' army,' with its scythes and
wooden cannon, be then? — Crushed like that" -and,
suiting the action to the word, she grasped a handful
of the dried leaves by the roadside and ground them
to powder in her hand.

" Miss Gordon ! you belong to a race whose devo-
tion to duty is their proudest boast. Death has no
terrors to them when duty calls- I too, no less, can
claim descent from those to whom honor was as the
breath of life. Honor and Duty both point in one di-
rection. I am pledged. I go. And then, Mademoi-
selle, there is another matter; we may, as you say, ' be
crushed' to-morrow, and I have something to tell
you — "

" Go on," she said quietly, as he seemed to hesitate.

And then as if determined to risk all on one desper-
ate chance, he plunged blindly into the matter affecting
him so nearly :

" Mademoiselle ! Evelyn ! what I have to say may
seem strange and ill-timed, and, on such short ac-
quaintance, almost impertinent, but I have fondly
dreamed that your heart would anticipate my faltering
tongue and plead for me." Then dropping to 3nc
knee he sfcized her hand exclaiming : " See ! as the
vassal to his queen I salute thee and proffer my devo-
tion ! say that you love me ! that should I live through
the fight to-morrow, and when peace returns to my

ir^

lii^.

I ?i

220

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

unhappy country, you will some day be my wife!
Say this and give me another motive to nerve m.y
arm !" and kissingi her hand he waited breathlessly for
her answer.

Withdrawing her hand she stammered :

" Oh ! Monsieur de Bienville, this is very sudden —
you do me honor — but my people in Montreal, my
presence here as your mother's guest: — You forget,
too, that my father holds Her Majesty's commission,
and I am one of Her loyal subjects, while you are — a
rebel. See! hei'e is some one coming, and do not
look very dignified kneeling there in the mud."

"What! you laugh at me, you spurn my honest
love ! Fool that I was to think the poor Canadien
should aspire toi the hand of a daughter of the proud
English officer, or to dream that love could leap over
the barrier of race, and that in affairs of the heart mere
opinions had no weight ! Hearts ! why do I talk of
such things to you ? You English cannot know the
passion that burns in our breasts. You are cold,
haughty, indifferent; you have no heart."

She staggered at this outburst as if he had struck
her, then, looking straight at him, she said quietly :

"Yes, Raoul, you are right, I have no heart, I lost
it some time ago, have you found it ?"

At this, a revulsion of feeling seemed to sweep him
away, and he flung out his arms as if to clasp^ her to
his breast, but she waved him off.

" Oh ! my darling," he cried, " forgive my cruel
words, forget all I have said except that I love you !
I love you ! Only love me in return, say you will be
mine, and this night we will fly across the lines to the
Land of Freedom, and together begin 'a new life, away

A STORY OF S7-

221

■I

from these scenes of trouble and heartbreak that keep
us asunder."

" Raoul de Bienville, would you have tne niarr)' a
ccward ? I would that you could choose the path
your friends point out to you, but you refuse. You
say your duty calls you in the other direction. Is it
for me to remind you of it ? if so, I say : do your duty,
come what may, and I shall do mine, though hearts
break in the. doing of it."

Nothing was said for a moment till dc Bienville,
raising his pale face, said huskily :

*' I thank you, Miss Gordon, for teaching me that
word. Pray forget all except my deep regard and
respect for you. We may meet again in happier times,
if not, farewell !" and touching his tifijne in military
style, he bowed, turned in the direction of the insur-
gent camp, and was soon out of sight.

Evelyn stood staring after him in a dazed sort of
way,^ her eyes following his figure as it vanished in the
gathering night, but her mind vainly trying to realize
the situation, until suddenly the despair of it all flashed
before her in its bitter intensity, and relief came to her
in a flood of fast falling tears-

" Oh, what have I done ! Gone to his death and I
sent him ! And yet it could end no other way. Mine
is the bitterest lot, as I must live on with the zest of
life gone out of it."

The footsteps she had heard echoing on the hard-
frozen road came nearer, and presently a mellow voice
rang out cheerily :

"What, my child, crying! x\h ! that rascal Fran-
qois, I must give him a talking to. What has he been

Kll

222

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

saying to cause you such trouble, as if we had not
enough on our hands already ?"

She turned to look at the speaker and confronted
the well-known form of the village cure, Father Phil-
lipe Lebeau. With a start the good cure saw his mis-
take and hastened to apologize :

"Ah ! Mademoiselle, a thousand pardons ! I pre-
sume I have the honor of addressing the young
English lady, the guest of Madame the Seigneuress ?
Yes ! I regret the inconvenience caused to Mademoi-
selle by her involuntary detention here in the midst of
all this excitement. Foolish children ! they will not be
advised, and I trust it may not cost them too dear.
But these tears! is it that you fear for your safety ?
Not so, myi child, you are safe with us, and whatever
fate may be in store for our poor people at the hands
of I your compatriots, you will be cared for by both
parties. If your trouble is in yourself, and, in the ab-
sence of your friends you can confide in an old man to
whom the troubled often come, be! assured, my child,
of his best wishes to. assist and advise you."

"Oh, monsieur le curJ I thank you with a grateful
heart for your kind words, but I fear you cannot help
me. Raou — Monsieur de Bienville — has just informed
me of his decision to share the fate of your poor mis-
guided people, and I — his mother, his sisters — what
will become of them if harm should come to him ?"

" Ah ! is it so ! Headstrong boy, impulsive, but
mistaken, he would noti be guided, and now he seeks
to drown the poor lamb with him in the impending
flood of misfortune ! My child, you have my sym-
pathy, and you may command me as one of my own

A STORY OF '37.

223

flock, and may the good Lord comfort you as I
cannot."

These kind words deeply touched the sorely tried
girl, and for a moment she was undecided whether she
would not tell the good man everything, and accept
the proffered assistance to try and bring back the wan-
derer. Her native reserve, however, stood her in good
stead, and she merely said :

" Thank you, tnonieur le cur^, I thank you from the
bottom of my heart. I shall not forget your kindness
and may some time remind you of your promise. In
the meantime, I must be going in as Madame will
wcnder where I am, and, with your permission, I will
wish you good evening." With a grateful look, a plea-
sant smile, and a bow, she turned, pushed open the
little gate, passed on up the walk, and disappeared
into the house.

The cure watched her go with a puzzled expression
on his benevolent face, now unusually clouded by
the weight of care the times had brought to his quiet
life, and muttering: "Ah ! these boys and girls, what
troubles they will bring upon themselves, as if they
did not have enough brought to them unsought," he
shook his perplexed head and walked slowly ofT in
the direction of the presbyter^ to seek the consolation
of the little supper he knew his careful housekeeper
had ready for him.

CHAPTER II.

" The next dreadful thing to a battle lost is a battle
won." — Wellington.

Evelyn Gordon was the daughter of an officer in
one of the British regiments at that time stationed in
Montreal. As was the custom among a section of
the English and Protestant population, she had been
sent to study in a convent conducted by one of die
orders of nuns devoted to teaching. While there she
met and formed a friendsinp with the sisters of Raoul
de Bienville, who were being educated with a view to
themselves taking the vows of the sisterhood. Their
friendship resulted in an invitation being accepted by
Evelyn to spend the summer holidays with the de
Bienville family at their seignorial manor on the banks
of the Richelieu. While there, the political excite-
ment, long slumbering, finally broke out, and, in the
disturbed state of the country parts, it was thought
unwise to subject young girls to the possible discom-
forts of a long journey by carriage to reach the city.
1 The hospitality of the manor being further extended

and pressed upon Evelyn, her father was induced to
allow her to remain in the expectation of quiet bemg
speedily restored. Instead of which, open hostilities
breaking out in the very district where they were, all
hope of gettng back to town was given up, and, be-
lieving that his daughter was in good hands, though
in the care of those known to be in sympathy with the

ai^

A STORY OF '37.

225

Patriot cause, her father was content to allow Evelyn
to remain with her friends. Had he known of the
complications likely to arise through associating with
one of the temperament of young de Bienville, un-
compromising Tory as he was. Captain Gordon would
have moved Heaven and Earth and the Government
to rescue his daughter from the contaminating inlht-

ences of " those d d rebels," as he was pleased to

style them.

Thus it was that the turn of events brought Evelyn
to the position in which we find her on the morning of
the 25th of November.

She rose with a heavy heart, dressed, and sat down
by her window, which commanded a view of the road
leading to Chambly. She had not been there long
when her attention was drawn to a heavy column of
black smoke rising in the distance, and, while trying
to discover what this might mean, another l)roke out,
and so much nearer that she could distinguish the
flames glowing amid its blackness. Straining her eyes
over the expanse of road, dun-colored fields, and rail
fences, she caught the glint of light reflected from
polished metal, and there was borne to her ears a
sound of music, which, gradually drawing nearer, pro-
claimed in shrill and rattling tones the presence of a
British regiment on the march.

" The troops ! They are coming and burning the
barns of the poor country folk !" she cried, and hurried
off to warn the seigneur's family.

The alarm, however, had already spread. The noise
of the fifes and drums, and the ruse of the burning
buildings, had the desired effect, and the people of the
village became wildly demoralized. The women and

itil

i^yi

226 REBEL OR PATRIOT.

, :,.

children, and some of the faint-hearted among the men,
i j I hastily snatched up what household goods came first

to hand and rushed pell-mell for the belt of woods
[ ' \ back of the village, the ladies of the manor-house alone

remaining in their home, but prepared to retreat to the
cellar in the event of the conflict coming near them.
Intense excitement was apparent on the faces of the
men who were hurrying ofif in the direction in which
''/es soldats" were coming — excitement not lessened
on learning of the disappearance of some of their
leaders who had got them into difficulty, and basely
left them to their fate-

De Bienville had assumed command, and was rush-
ing here and there inspiring, persuading, threatening.
\ , " Follow me !" he cried, " be not afraid, our cause

is just and must prevail ! Remember we fight for
home and country ! Down with the tyrants ! To
the barricade !"

His high courage and fearless bearing put new heart
into his band of undisciplined enthusiasts, who now —
ill-equipped as they were — joined in a wild straggling
rush to where a rough defense of logs, trees, and fence
rails had been thrown across the road, at a little dis-
tance from the village, in the vain hope of checking
the advance of the veteran troops.

In obedience to de Bienville's orders the defenders
remained quiet behind the barrier and made no open-
ing.

" Reserve your fire," he commanded, " till the enemy
begins his attack; give our foes no excuse to say we
precipitated a conflict; when he does come, take aim
and shoot true !"

Meanwhile the colonel had halted his force under

A STORY OF '37.

227

cover, and in a matter-of-fact way was examining the
position through his glass. His practised eye quiCKiy
took in the situation, and the mode of attack nis
easily settled. The barrier stretched across the road
to the river on one side, but on the other ended at a
short distance in the meadow beyond the road. A
field piece was trained to bear directly on it at short
range; a portion of the small force being reserved to
support it, and the remainder detailed for 'a flank
movement through the fields, both detachments to
advance on the charge sinuiltaneously and carry the
position with a rush. The colonel naturally thought
of his own men first: how many of them might pro-
bably never cross that short bit of road and meadow ?
But his heart ached more for the poor wretches caught
in the trap of their own setting. Those of them who
escaped the bullets of the soldiers' first volley v.oi'Jd
only save themselves from the crueller death by the
bayonets' thrust by instant and unconditional surren-
der as prisoners of war, trusting for the future to the
summary and scant justice of the impending court
martial.

The gunners were ordered to fire, and a solid round
shot crashed through the flimsy defences, hurling the
splintered timbers among the defenders, and badly
wounding many. Others followed in quick succes-
sion, replied to by discharges from the muskets of :he
beseiged, fired through the openings between the logs.
The charge was sounded, and, with that wild exultant
cheer that has inspired the gallant wearers of Eng-
land's uniform in many an historic fight on land and
sea, the soldiers swarmed over and around the barrier.
The contest — if such it might be called with the odds

in ■ ■ •■

ill

I i i 228 REBEL OR PATRIOT.

i «

iff

all on one side — was short, sharp, and decisive ; bay-
onet and clubbed musket were plied with powerful
stroke, and all who did not instantly yield felt their
deadly force. Caught as they were in a pocket formed
by the angle of the barrier and the river, retreat was
almost hopeless. Many did attempt it, however, some
escaping, others being shot down as they ran-

Raoul, brave to the last, refused to surrender, but
stood) his ground defying the soldiers to take him,
and calling on them to shoot if they would. One
man levelled his piece to take him at his word;
another prepared, to thrust him with his bayonet; but a
burly sergeant of grenadiers, taking in at a glance the
dauntless bearing of the youth as he stood with bared
head,. his face and hands and once dapper dress be-
grimed with powder-smoke and airt, swinging his
clubbed musket and shouting defiance to the whole
British army, could not but recognize a brave spirit;
and wishing to spare one so young and fearless, he
dashed aside the two assailants, rushed on the youth,
wrenched his gun from him, and, with the quick, com-
bined ' movement of leg and fist known to boxers, he
hurled him — stunn.d but unharmed — into a corner
among the logs out of the way of further danger.
I The affair — little more than a skirmish — was no

f sooner over than the sad duties of counting up the

!^ cost began. The casualties among the attacking

■ British i force were light, but of the insurgents some

' thirty-five or forty lay dead on the field, besides many

\ wounded. A large proportion of the wounds were

\ from bayonet thrusts, showing that a lofty, if mistaken,

? courage had led the poor fellows to resist to the death-

I Those who had not escaped were made prisoners,

A STORY OF '37.

229

among whom was the unfortunate Raoul, now re-
covered from the effects of the blow of the sergeant's
fist.

The regimental surgeons were sooit in attendance
on the wounded, treating friend and foe with equal
kindness and military promptness. Fatigue parties
were detailed to gather the dead and guard the wound-
ed. The kind offices of Father Phillipe — who was
speedily on hand to offer consolation and assistance
to those of his flock who stood badly in need of both — •
were enlisted to persuade the fugitives to return from
the woods, and to assure them that the soldiers were
not going to kill them all as they firmly believed. The
sorrow was heavy enough, however, in the little vil-
lage when the sad truth became known of the fathers,
husbands, and brothers, dead, wounded, and in cap-
tivity, and bitter were the tears shed as Father Phillipe
read the service of the church over the common grave
in which all the fallen were buried together.

Preparations were in time completed for conveying
the prisoners to Montreal, and the grief of the poor
people brokcj out afresh as they saw their loved ones
dragged off to what, in their simplicity, they imagined
to be unknown tortures, the parting between Madame
de Bienville and her son being affecting in the ex-
treme. The conmiander and his officers — some of
whom had made the acquaintance of the, lady and her
daughters in the city — did all in their power to console
them, and assured them of their desire to treat the
I)risoners with every consideration consistent with
their duty as military guard, offering at the same time
to escort Miss Gordon and place her safely in the
hands of her friends. This, however, Evelyn respect-

230 REBEL OR PATRIOT.

fully declined, preferring- to go in charge of Father
Phillipe, who purposed leaving next day to report in
person to his bishop the unhappy ending^ to the ill-
judged attempt of the disaffected portion of his people.
Evelyn approached Raoul to say farewell, her pale
face, and haggard look, being the only evidence of tlie
feelings she tried to conceal under an otherwise firm
bearing. To the onlookers these seemed but the con-
sequent effects of the sad scenes through which she
had been compelled to pass, and caused no surprise.

She took; his proffered hand in silence, afraid to
trust herself to speak. He bowed over it respectfully
and said simply :

" Farewell ! Miss Gordon. I regret that you have
been made the unwilling witness of these troubles,
and ask your pardon for any share I may have had
in causing you pain. If your influence with the
authorities can mitigate the punishment my poor
people are likely to suffer, please exercise it on their
behalf. For myself, I ask nothing, not even pity.
I have! no regret for any action of mine as it may
affect me personally. My course was deliberately
I ' chosen, and I must now suffer the consequences, what-

p ever these may be. Be assured of my sincerest

f '■ wishes for your future happiness. Farewell !" and

with a firm step he turned to take his place in the ranks

of the prisoners. The command was given ; the escort

formed up in position on either side of the forlorn

I squad, and the march to the city, and captivity, and —

< to some — death, began-

CHAPTER III.

" I have set my life upon a cast and I will stand the
hazard of the die." — Richard III.

The next day Evelyn bade good-bye to her kind
friends with feelings of peculiar sorrow, concealing
her own grief in the endeavor to console them in the
heavy trials they were called upon to bear. Travel-
ling with the cure in his little gig by easy stages — this
was before the days of railways — and stopping for a
night on the way, on the morning of the second day
they reached the south shore of the St. Lawrence, were
ferried over to the city, and the cure's charge was safely
delivered to her grateful father at his cjuarters near the
barracks, the cure himself hurrying ofif to pay his res-
pects to the Bishop at his official residence.

Next morning Evelyn left her home by the river
front for a stroll up to the city proper. Her way led
her past the old Bonsecours church, and the market
with its strange sights and sounds of quaintly dressed
habitant farmers and their shrewder helpmeets bar-
gaining in shrill tones with some obstinate customer,
who claimed the usual concessions from the first price
asked — without which* any trade would be but poorly
and unscientifically completed; then on through the
Rue Notre Dame, where the founders of the modern
princely fortunes lived in frugal simplicity with their
apprentices over their stores ; passing Place d'Armes,
she turned into St. James street, where she almost ran

^ i

I Pi

232 REBFX OR TATRIOT.

over her old friend Father Lebeau hurrying in the op-
posite direction.

It is hard to imagine the changes time has wrought
in the comparatively short space of sixty years. Stand-
ing to-day on this spot, the spectator views the mag-
nificent expanse of asphaUed roadway overshadowed
/ by the imposing yellow and red sandstone or granite

fronts of the buildings belonging to the various mer-
cantile, insurance, and banking corporations, or the
government, rising in massive grandeur, or in the clas-
sic beauty of Corinthian column and carved entabla-
ture. His ears are dinned with the hum of busy city
life; the rattle of car and /carriage, dray and cart, and
the clatter of .hurrying feet on the flag-stone pave-
ments. For relief to eyes and ears he may turn inro
the railed enclosure, with its patches of turf and
flowers, arid listen to the plash of the water falling
from the Founder's bronze fountain ; or, passing
through the gates, cross the road and seek the quiet
|| of the great church of Notre Dame, whose open doors

jfj j ever invite the tired and weary way-farer to enter and

11 find rest. Perchance the melodious chimes may wake

'* i . . .

j: from their slumber in one of the twui towers, to be

answered by the boom of the " Grand Bourdon" in
the other. With iron tongue it seems to proclaim in
tones that reach beyond the heart of the city lying at
its feet, across the tree-covered crown on the one side,
or the blue St. Lawrence sweeping majestically past
and guarding the other, far out and over the orchards
and farm lands around, the power that raised such a
monument and endowed it with a voice so command-
ing.

Nothing of this magnificence do our friends see or

ji,
1)

A STORY OF '^i'J.

233

dream of, only a straggling row of indifferent dwell-
ings — solidly built like the fortunes of their owners —
and shops, with a church and a bank building to
break the monotony. A light covering of snow had
fallen, and the city sparks and their military rivals,
enveloped in furs, were showing off the paces of their
nags and the style of their equipages to, admiring pro-
menaders,^ as if eager to catch and bind King Winter
to their service, who shall su soon settle his chill pre-
sence unbidden among them.

An unusual crowd seems gathering ; a jargon of
mingled English and French fills the air; excited heads
are thrust out of window and door; scowls and bitter
words from one party, jeers and exultation from the
other.

" What is it all about ?" the cure asks a passer by-

" The prisoners being brought in," was the short
answer.

The cure would have drawn Evelynj down a side
street, but they were hemmed in and could scarcely
move. Again that shrill scream and rattle of fife and
drum; a flasli of sunlight thrown off from the polished
bayonets that so lately were stained and dim; a de-
jected band of young, middle-aged and old men tied
together in couples, and haggard and worn with strife,
long marches, and anxiety. Our friend Raoul walked
near the rear, but, unlike the rest, with head erect and
eyes looking straight before him; more soldiers; the
mounted officers and staff; then the small boy and the
usual rag-tag that has closed every procession from
time immemorial.

On they go through the battery of eyes of trium-
phant foes, wincing under the jeers, or taking comfort
16

-mMiisedi^iii&.-

Iff

234

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

il;

from the low spoken words some compatriot whispers
as they pass. Farther yet by the Rue Notre Dame,
past the column on which stands the Hero of Trafal-
gar, his empty right sleeve pinned to his coat, his
head turned aside, and his left arm extended as if in
commiseration of the sad fate of the unhappy men.
Still many weary steps yet till the jail wall is reached;
the heavy gates swing open, and the military guard's
unpleasant duty is ended by handing over his charge
to the representatives of thel civil authorities.

Father Lebeau turned to Evelyn to reassure her
with words of comfort, but she had disappeared. The
cure shook his head slowly : "Ah well!" he said to
himself, " grief sometimes forgets its manners. Poor
children, how will it end for them !" and drawing his
cloak closer to him to keep out the cold, he moved
briskly off on his interrupted errand.

I ,•

CHAPTER IV.

"I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; a
stage, where every man must play a part, and mine a
sad one." — Merchant of Venice.,

The rising at St. Eustache in December following
having been quenched in blood and fire, and the con-
tingent of the captured already in jail having been
further augmented by those taken prisoners at that
affair with arms in their hands, and by many others
arrested on civil warrants, the government set about
restoring quiet in the disturbed districts, and prepar-
ing for the trials of those indicted for treason. After
months of weary waiting these took place before a
court-martial, resulting in a number being sentenced
to transportation, eleven to execution, the remainder
being acquitted.

The deepest sympathy was aroused on behalf of poor
Raoul de Bienville, on account of his youth and high
connections. The best legal talent was retained for his
defence, and every effort made to secure his release, but
without effect. The evidence was direct and overwhelm-
ing as to his active participation in the revolt; justice
demanded her meed of satisfaction; the bravest and
best are needed for the sacrifice, and Raoul was num-
bered among those unfortunates whom fate had
snatched from death on the field, and, denying even the
soldier's consolation, reserved for them to drink the
bitter cup on the scaffold of the common criminal.

236

REIJEL OR TATRIOT.

Father Lebeau put forth strenuous efforts to secure
a commutation of tlie sentence- Petitions for the ex-
ercise of the governor's clemency poured in from all
quarters. The legal counsel engaged on the case,
when all else failed, registered by petition a solemn
protest against the judicial murder about to be com-
mitted. Evelyn presented herself in person before the
Major General who presided at the court, begging him
to use his influence in sui)port of the petitif>ns. Sur-
prised at such a request coming from such a (juartcr,
the bewildered officer deemed it his duty to lay the
matter before his subordinate and associate in the
court martial, Evelyn's father. A stormy interviev/
followed. The stern parent, as the bitter truth dawned
upon him, threatened to disown her as his daughter
if the " traitor's " name was mentioned again.

"So be it, father," was her answer, "you, cannot kill
my love as you do its object, and, if my father forsake
me, then. I must fall back on the Lord's promise to
take me up."

" Zounds ! girl," he shouted, " what do you mean by
such canting talk? Is Ihis my reward for leaving you
so long in the hands of Popish women and meddling
priests? Leave me before I forget myself and whip
such school-girl nonsense out of you !"

Disheartened and in despair, the poor girl resolved
to try one last appeal, and, sitting down to her little
desk that had many a time borne the burden thrown
from her heart to the paper that should tell it to some
one else, she indited a pathetic appeal to the wife of the
Governor, begging her motherly heart to open to the
sorrow of the poor misguided youth whose life was so

21iiisililife£itikliSiji£t£>i><i^<^lAit>i&^ i:,.<'C.:L-,'iiM»Ai,i.sl

A STORY OF '37.

237

soon to be cut short, and asking at lier hands the gift
of that life that might mean so much to the writer.

All appeals, however, were of no effect, the stereo-
typed answer being returned in every case : "It was
deeply regretted that the demands of justice could not,
without danger to the public weal, be sacrificed to the
claimsl of mistaken clemency."

Preparations were made for the final tragedy which,
as if in bitter irony, was fixed for the 21st of December
— that season conunemorative of the birth of Him
who came with messages of " peace and good-will to
men." Father Lebeau, who had been in constant at-
tendance on the young man, had persuaded him to
grant an interview with Evelyn. He was at first lotli
to meet her.

" Why disturb me, father ?" he said ; " I have done
with the world and its affairs; to see her would do me
no good, and but uselessly agitate her."

The cure explained that as Miss Gordon wished it,
and had been unremitting in her efforts to secure his
release, her desire to say farewell might reasonably be
granted.

With heavy heart, the following day, Father Lebeau
led the trembling girl along the stone corridor of the
jail, and, when the door. of the condemned cell was
flung open by the turnkey, he silently motioned her
in, closed the door, and began pacing up and down the
corridor until she should reappear.

Who shall attempt to pry into the scene being
enacted behind that oaken door ? If the solemnity of
such a moment, when two souls, refined by such fiery
trials, are parting on the verge of eternity, did not
deter us, the bolts and bars and solid masonry shall

238

RKHEL OR TAT RIOT.

stand as a barrier against an unhallowed curiosity
that would commit such sacrilege.

Tlie cure was weary with his lonely pacing of the
echomg corridor, when, turning again in his walk, he
was brought face to face with the girl standing motion-
less on the cold stones.

Was this the same Evelyn he had ushered into that
cell such a short while ago ? surely it' was as to form
and clothing, but that firm and exalted bearing, the
face pale as a marble statue but illumined with a light
that seemed an inspiration of some holy sj)irit breath-
ing over it.

In awe-struck tones the cure whispered, solenmly :

" My child, you wear the look of one inspired by
some high resolve, or as;some sister who liad just pro-
nounced her vows in the holy sanctuary !"

" I have taken my vows, dear father- Here, in this
strange cloister, I ask you to redeem your promise and
help me to keep them. We will speak of this again,
Come! let us go."

CHAPTER V.

" Last scene of all that ends this strange eventful
history." — As You LikQ It.

Raoul spent the greater part of the night writing
last words to relatives, and composing what might be
called a political testament as his dying legacy to his
country, reserving a few impressive words to be spoken
at the last moment. Snatching a brief sleep, he v/as
early awakened by the commotion betokening thd ar-
rival of the fateful day. Dressing himself with scru-
pulous care in the costume of the gentleman of the
period, he awaited the coming of Father Lebcau,
whose devotion never faltered. A few solemn words,
a prayer, and he was ready to answer the call of the
sherifif. The procession formed; the surpliced priest,
bearing in his hands the holy symbol of the crucifixion
and chanting in solemn tones the service of the church,
leading the way.

This, be it remembered, was in the days when such
sad scenes were not enacted with the privacy with
which Justice now tempers her stern decrees, and,
when the procession mounted the scaffold, a strange
sight met the eye.

A strong cordon of soldiers, with fixed bayonets,
was formed in;close order round the foot of the scaf-
fold. Pressing* up to and around these in a dense
mass, was a motley crowd of men, women and chil-
dren, drawn to the spot as a show attracts the crowd.

240

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

The sea of up-turned faces presented in their varied
expressions of brutal exultation, suppressed passion,
sorrowful pity, or careless indifference, a field for the
student of human nature. Permission to speak being
granted, Raoul stepped forward, swept his glance over
the sea of heads, and in clear tones began :

" Friends and fellow-countrymen ! In this solemn
hour, at peace with God, it would ill-become me to die
with wordsi, of wrath upon my lips. For those who
have brought me here to this ignominious de",th I pray
forgiveness, and trust the future will not avenge my
death, upon them in such pain and sorrow as have come
to me, and mine, and you. The martyr may not
choose his mode of exit from this world; if his cause
be just, he need fear no stain on his memory by reason
of it; therefore, waste no idle tears on me, who am but
the one chosen by fate to die that you might go free.
To you I commit my dear ones, and charge you by all
you hold sacred, should misfortune befall them, that
you will make their future your special care, and, as
you do to tliem, may God so reward you. I die for
my country, and look to my countrymen to vindicate
my memory in the stmggle I have made for her liber-
ty- The present hour is dark with defeat, and sorrow,
and death. The future is bright with hope, in that I
see the principles for which we fought embodied in a
constitution which shall be no less a blessing to you
and your children than to those who now despise our
aspirations, and quench them in our blood. I see you,
my beloved compatriots, swelling from a handful of
down-trodden vassals into a great and powerful nation-
ality, guarding as your life your language, your reli-
gion, and your laws. A glorious destiny awaits you,

A STORY OF '-i^y.

241

and demands but your ability to grasp it and compel
the now triumphant Star of England's Empire to do
your sovereign will when you clioose to make it known
in the unmistakable voice of a free, united, and deter-
mined people. Vive la Libcrte ! Farewell !"

He saluted the crowd of now thoroughly excited
men, who were only kept under control by the over-
whelming show of military strength, turned to em-
brace Father Lebeau, and say farewell to the few per-
sonal friends standing near by. The further harrow-
ing details were rapidly carried out, and the lofty soul
of Raoul de Bienville was released from its perishable
dwelling-place to find its affinity among the myriads
of like noble and exalted spirits who have lived, suffer-
ed, and died, in the form of men in this world; of
whom the world may not have been worthy, but whose
presence for a time therein serv-'d to enrich it and in-
spire others to revere, if not to emulate, their aims
and aspirations.

Ideas are strangely powerful. Men have died for
them and) will yet bravely die, but woe to those at
whose door the responsibility of their death shall lie.
The seed of ; the Church, watered by the martyr's blood,
has grown into a mighty forest. The world's judicial
murders for opinion's sake have but more deeply root-
ed the ideas for which thev were committed in the
minds of men. Ideas live ! That for which Raoul
died has become a passion with his countrymen, burn-
ing into and transforming their very being. Will it
ennoble and inspire them with lofty ideals and wide
views of their future in the land of their birth, which
those of another faith and tongue are no less proud
to .claim as their native land ? Or will nursing and

242

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

brooding over it but develop it into a morbid growth
that shall strive to eat out the heart of the body politic,
and devour whatever is not of its own tainted life ?
The surgeon's knife is the last remedy for a diseased
limb; were it not the wiser part to prevent disease than
apply such radical cure ? The lessons to be learned
from the past forcibly apply to the events of to-day.
The clamors of party and schism, creed and tongue,
are ringing in weary ears. Hands that should be
clasped in brotherly love need but little provocation to
strike in anger. Opinions are sacred; respect for such
as cannot be assented to, when honestly held, shall
command respect; and only thus shall it be possible
for the widely differing components of a land so favor-
ed to join hand-in-hand and together work out the
" glorious destiny" in store for their common country.
What that destiny shall be, and what the future has
in store for us belong to the unknown, and the now
unwritten history is the task that we of to-day have
set for us. Do we seek inspiration for it ? Then
read that written in the sweat and tears' and blood of
those who made it on the soil they won and left to us
as our inheritance; and back of that, turn to the scroll
of Europe, and read 'the by-gone deeds of our fathers
— of English and French, Scotch, Irish and German
blood — as they toiled and fought and died in mould-
ing the individual 'and national characteristics that are
now being woven into the fibre of our national life.
Drink inspiration, from what well you deem sweetest.
Widen and broaden 'your view to include the vistas
on which your neighbor loves to gaze. Open your
heart and hands to receive from him that of which he
may have to spare, and you may lack of those qualities

A STORY OF '37.

243

that go to build up an ideal character — a Man, a
Canadian-
Do you complain of aggression on the part oi a
section of the community ? Meet it calmly, reason-
ably, firmly, not with bluster and brag and counter-
threatenings — he may Jiavc some reason on his side,
and misunderstanding and jealousy are the cause of
more than lovers' quarrels.

Do you fear his ascendency from overwhelming
growtli ? This isi but the result of a natural law, the
effect of which he may iiave perceived with greater
force than you, to your disadvantage; the remedy is
obvious.

Do you object to his use of his own language?
Learn it, and you are not only equipped to meet him
on more* than ecjual terms, but you may discover and
appreciate riches hitherto undreamed of.

Does his creed jar on your senses trained in a
different way of thinking ? Study it, and you may be
surprised to find refreshing resting-places and guide-
posts on the road to heaven, the chart to which you
may have fondly imagined yourself to be the sole de-
pository.

The machinery of the body politic when fed by the
fires of party rancour and passion jars, is (({uickly
thrown out of gear unless lubricated with the oil of
cool, common sense; store up the oil, study the parts
and how to apply it most effectually, and he who most
surely and swiftly arrives at the full knowledge is he
to whose hand is committed the great responsibility
of guiding the vast machine of State. The "mistakes
of ,Moses" have been held up as responsible for much
of the misfortune of the race; the mistakes of yester-

244

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

day more nearly concern us of to-day, and are preg-
nant with warning-, but it is the mistakes of to-morow
for which we shall be held responsible.

1 !

i.;

Father Lcbeau is long since dead and gone to his
reward, but his type survives in hundreds of villages
scattered through the country; simple and pious souls,
untaught in the ways of the intriguing cleric, who
strive to bring up their flocks in the paths of virtue
and religion as it is given themj to expound. Denied
the joys of home and family, their lives are-- passed in
helping , others to solve in a measure the problems of
life, never to be fully revealed, perhaps, till death shall
open the eyes now blinded by the glare and bewilder-
ment of earthly things.

And Evelyn ! What of her ?

In one of the farthest missionary stations of the
Roman Catholic Church, in the almost unknown dis-
trict of the iMackenzie Basin, in the burying-place at-
tached to the little chapel, may be seen a newly-made
grave, and at its head a simple little wooden cross,
painted white, on which kind hands have roughly
scrawled in black letters : —

SISTER

ST. AGNES,

BORN

1820,

DIED

1889.

R. I. P.

A STORY OF '37.

245

On enquiring the meaning of these words and the
history of one who closed a life so full of years in such
a lonely spot, ,the stray visitor might be told of " a
young lamb who came into the fold seeking peace,
and rest, and relief from many sorrows; whose long
life had been spent in going about doing good. In the
older settlements, seeking ever to be sent where trou-
ble and sorrow called for succor, and again begging
that she might be given the hardships and trials inci-
dent to the march of the missions as they gradually
reached out into the wild and unknown regions North
and West. Many a poor Indian, ilumberman, or fron-
tier settler, blessed with his dying breath the hand of
the Sister who seemed to come to him as a minis-
tering, angel in his time of need. She had finally been
sent to this station which, when first established, was
in the midst of an unexplored wilderness of forest.
Settlements and civilization gradually approaching, she
desired to go yet further to prepare a light in the dark
places, when she died, just before ,her jubilee, and was
buried as Monsieur sees. Her history is, in brief, as
Monsieur has heard. Her past ? Oh ! that was
buried when she pronounced her vows fifty years ago.
Her name ? Ah ! Monsieur may know some of her
friends, and it may be well for them to know — iier

name was

EVELYN GORDON.

" When our souls shall leave this dwelling, the
glory of one fair, and virtuous action is above all the
scutcheons on our tomb, or silken banners over us."
— Shirley.

■I

. • !

ii-;

•f

i^Hi

^Vjii

-t^jj- t,jr— i^T- -qjT— t^y- x^jj— t^jt— tjj— t^jt -c-p-x^^

iSS^;

■ i I

(i^

'rikliJfk'^'AilifMJAi'tiii^j^.

r'''Myy''"'yf^jM'''>'?j^^^^

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

^r^ ^^ %^^

''THE MUSIC OF THE REEL/'

COME! all ye jolly fishermen who love a cheerful song
Around the blazing camp-fire, whose hearts are true
and leal
To the gentle art whose mysteries ye have studied
well and long,
And join with me in praises of the '* music of the
reel !"

They may prate to us of Wagner, of Beethoven, or
Mozart,
Of harmony and melody, ecstatically kneel
In soul-entrancing rapture at the shrine of Classic
Art—
But we love the simple rhythm of the " music of the
reel."

By the swiftly rushing river, or the calm and peaceful
lake.
Where Nature's choir n?akes music that the dullest
soul must feel;
When the sun peeps through the tree-tops, calling
slumbercirs to wake,
Then the heart beats time responsive to the "music
of the reel."
17

250

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

There's gladness in the bird's wild flight, or rush of
captured fish;
Contentment in .a hard-earned bag, or in a well-
filled creel;
But the sportsman's pulse-beats qui'^ken as he hears
the well-known " swish,"
And the line runs whistling merrily the "music of the
reel."

Then a health to all true fishermen — a bumper let it be !
Shake up the blazing pine-knots ere the shades upon
us steal !
And when the darksome night sinks down, and we but
dimly see,
May whispering memories sing to us the " music
of the reel !"

I ■■ V •

UNATTAINED.

251

UNATTAINED.

DREAM-BORNE floated my lay:

Gladsome as lilt of fluting bird —
Tsfe'er sweeter song ear ever heard ; —
E'er yet my pen had spelled a word
It flew away !

My moving speech should sway

Vast, waiting crowds that, breathless, hung
To catch it glowing from my tongue ! —
Dumb, I alone, thousands among : —
It came next day !

With Love I fain would stray

'Mid bosky aisles and fern-hid bowers.
In dalliance all the golden hours ! —
She ever vowed grew fairer flowers
The other way !

I'd win, and naught should stay.

Fame, Riches, liook-companioned Ease;
Roam strange, new lands and travelled seas:
Now, as I nuist, not as I please;
Ah ! Well-a-day !

(

' 1

252

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

A PLEA.

FRET NOT the Poet's soul with rankling sting

Of critic tongue,
As, Fancy-led, he roams, and fain would sing,

Her fields among.

Dost fright yon chorister, in surplice grey,

With cruel gun,
What time he throats his n^.alin roundelay

To greet the Sun

i r ,

Kissing the drops, tear-gemmed, on burdened trees

And silken corn ? —
In drowsy antiphon the choir of bees

Hymns the new morn !

These but her Minstrels glad interpreting

All Nature's song :
Nor grander swells the chorale echoing

Dim aisles along.

i '

The dreamer, scorned, straying in devious ways.

By thee untrod,
Rare treasure finds, untold itsi wealth o'erlays

Tlie jewelled sod.

To ear attuned the winds whisper their tale,

Unheard by thee:
All scents and blooms his ravished sense assail.

His wide eyes see.

A PLEA.

253

Th' eternal hills that, awful-fronted, rise,

Betray their speech;

And circling worlds, thick-starred in Night's arched

skies,

Their message preach.

Hushed voices of the woods and air and seas,

Or chaffering mart
Where men do strive and faint, all deaf to these,

Speak to his lieart.

What wonder if, as waits a sleeping Earth

The voice of Spring,
His soul, prophetic, wakes, a Song has birth

'He needs must sing ?

O stay thy hand, nor once again, in wrath.

Thy prophets stone,
Who, all uncrowned, mayhap yet climb the path

To Song's high throne !

254

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

<■ I

TRILOGY.

OUT from the infinite Vast;
Wondcr-cyed, questioning why:

Waked from Night's drcam-slcep and passed
Life's portals througli — yet a ery, —
Dawn-kissed, yet naught but a sigh

Breathed on the Threshold, aghast.

1!,

II.

INTO the roar and the strife:

Parched 'mid the hot sand's dank red

Sprent with the toll of the knife;
Battling the lions for bread !
Flung to, the kites with the dead !

Hushed the Arena of life.

III.

BACK to the vasty Unknown
Doming the pendulous stars:

Winging the topaz-gennned zone,
Haloed m heroing scars.
Loosed the Soul's shackles and bars:

Fetterless L-fe shall atone !

SPOILERS ALL. 255

SPOILERS ALL.

WOODLAND and stream and mead and tarn, a broad

and fair Domain,
Deep in the Northland fastnesses, and I as King do

reign :
Nor rival brook, nor trespasser, in realm where I do

toll;
A murrain on marauders all, nor stint them of their

dole!

Feather and Fur and Fin ; —
Lord of the Woodland Clan ;
Keep I that I do win :
Challenge, uncrown who can !

"Thief ! Thief ! Catch iiim !— Catch!— Catch!— Catch!

—Catch !—
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!— Who~oo-hoo-hoo-hoo ?

First catch, then latch :

The thief !— 'tis you !"

Wilt flout me to my kingly beard, doubt my preroga-
tive

To tithe and tax and arbitrate who die and who may
live ?

On the knave's back yon curling rod shall prove my
sceptred sway,

And contumacious subjects teach, 1 rule, theirs to
obey ! i

Feather and Fur and Fin ; —
Lord of the Woodland Clan :
Keep T that I do wm :
Challenge, uncrown who can !

256

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!

The rogue! Switch him! — Switch! — Switch! — Switch!
— Switch ! —

Swing high, swing low :
King's sport and rich !"

Yet yield] I not my sovran right to levy on each poll,

On pain of stress, a goodly mulct, full tale of my rent-
roll.

Pavilioned 'neath the whispering pines that sentinel
my shores,

And lull to dreams, I watch and ban an robbers filch
my stores.

Feather and Fur and Fin : —
Lord of the Woodland^ Clan :
Keep I that I do win :
Challenge, tmcrown who can !

"Beware! Watch him! Watch !— Watch !— Watch !-

Wajtch!

Who-o-o-oo-oo-oo ? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Ne'er thief to match

With thee, Sirrah!"

AS SOLD BY ALL DEALERS.

267

AS SOLD BY ALL DEALERS.

IN his bridal suit of elephant grey,

The Lord of the Jungle hied
To her father's castle, leagues away,

To claim his promised bride.

In his coat's brave girth nor crease nor fold,

And the merry sunHght played
O'er his ivory spear-point's burnished gold

As his trumpet-challenge biayed

Full loud and long, till the drawbridge swings
Where the moat pawned wide and dank:

And the warder's bugle welcoming rings,
As befits the visitor's rank.

But the bridge was old and the strain was great : —

Down into the slimy moat
With a clatter of trumpet and spears, sad fate,

Crashed the groom in his wedding coat !

Was ever a sight like that, I ween ?

With coat all dripping and torn,
And a spirit as dead as the ivory's sheen,

They fished out the groom, forlorn.

" 'Tis my chance !" laughed his rival, "he'll die a monk;

E'er w^ed that, she'll with me elope !" —
But the wedding took place for — he'd saved his trunk

And a cake of our peerless soap I

■) I

258

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

LAURENTIA:
A North-land Idyl.

CRADLED within a Royal mother's arms

From Nature'^ font she draws rich nourishment;
Soothed by her hillaby, in sweet content

She peaceful dreams, secure from rude alarms.

She shares her dark-skinned foster-brother's play,
And roams with him through all the wide domain,
Whose fastnesses re-echo back again

The joyous laugh of childhood's halcyon-day.

She learns the secrets of the streams and woods,
Those furred and finny dwellers own her sway:
She fears no living thing, by love alway

She bends her vassals to her changing moods.

The blustering Ice-King from the frozen north
In wanton sport imprints his icy kiss
On cheek and lip. What fairy magic this !

He sees but blushing roses springing forth;

And meekly bows his hoad beneath the yoke
That binds him to her sled, whereon she rides
In queenly state propelled h} giant strides

O'er snowy vasts, where airy sprites convoke.

Her childhood's happy, guileless days have flown,
Till now a maiden grown, and wondrous fair,
She needs an arm whose all-protecting care

Shall stoutly guard, till strong she rules alone.

LAURENTIA. 259

Her Noble Kinsman from across the sea
With pious zeal the dubious task essays,
To guide her feet in wisdom's holy ways

And save her soul — her dowry take for fee !

A Royal Brother, from his seagirt tower,
With envy views his rival's ,dark intent.
No pious scruples stir his calm content :

" He takes who will and keeps who has the power !'

Then, anning his retainers, sails away
To. dispossess the spoiler of the weak !
Of that great fight Quebec's red stones yet speak ; —

Spite doughty foe his strong arm wins the day.

His trembling ward he soothes with honeyed word,
Bids her take heart and rest her now in peace;
From sea to sea her bounds shall yet increase,

Her fame, with his, shall through the world be heard !

She learns to love this grim old foster-sire;

His rough-cast plans of state her thoughts engage;

But, growing, weary of strict tutelage,
Her freedom craves, and gains her heart's desire

For fuller, broader life, and wider field

Wherein her will shall have free scope to act;
In great affairs she moves with skilful tact —

Bright augury of power she yet shall wield.

By lieges! borne, she takes her rightful place
Among the rulers and great ones of earth,
Acclaimed a queen, by right of blood and birth,

A nation's hope, to bless the coming race.

260 RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

ii As bride adorned she stands beyond compare —
,) A wreath of opalescent maple leaves

;J 5 About her shining hair she deftly weaves, —

^ Ai rayed in royal robes, and jewels rare.

* 1

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'■i|

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■}f

Mi^

Where mate for one with gifts so high endowed ?

Where find a consort who shall share her fame ?

To unborn sons transmit the glorious name
Of Canada, revered, illustrious, proud ?

Behold ! yon high-souled, brave, true-hearted knight.
Whose pulses beat with passion's ardent fire —
His country's love his holy, sole desire; —

The Patriot kneels ! her love she yields of right.

Mayhap from nations yet unborn shall rise
A benison on such a union meet.
And poets sing in flowing stanzas sweet

What time she enters on her high emprise —
'Mong federated nations takes her seat

In peaceful bonds, that all the world comprise.

■a

GATHER ROUND.

261

GATHER ROUND ALL YE GCMDD MEN AND

TRUE.

(Air—" Soldier's Lii'e."— " Erminie.")

PARCHED 'mid the dust of the hot summer's blue,
Forgotten and lone sleeps the swift-glidingi shoe.
When fair Winter, deftly, a white covering weaves.
And tenderly mantles the dank, fallen leaves —
When the winds whistle keen through the maples and

firs,
And the throbbing pulse leaps and the sluggish blood

stirs :
Then the blanketed lads their phalanxes Jorm,
And laugh in the teeth of the fierce-driving storm.

Chorus: Gather round all ye good men and true,
Join with us in gladsome jubilee:
Unsullied still our tasselled blue, —
Untarnished may its brightness be !

Many long years since we entered the race, —
Unchallenged the record and strong yet the pace ;
Old comrades may drop from the ranks in the snow,
Still onward, majestic, the^ old colors go.
They are twined 'mid the folds of our loved Union-
Jack
That over us waves ; and should dastard attack, —
Confusion attend on the pestilent horde,
When the Blanket and Tuque tramp with rifle and
sword !

Chorus: Gather round, etc. .

1 1

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ifi 262 RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

TALLY-HO.

I SING you a song to-night, my lads,
A song of the frost and snow;

Of the sport so rare and the bracing air
That quicken the pulse's flow.

Others may sing of the budding spring,
} ' Or the autumn's mellow glow,

But the winter for me with its life so free,
And the tramps through the drifting snow.

Cho : — Let us away where the breezes play.
Over the glittering snow :
Merrily sing, till the echoes ring
To the snowshoers' " Tallv-ho."

Then weave me a garland gay, my lads.

Bright holly and fair mistletoe;
To Winter we'll sing, and crown him King,

Ermine-wrapped in a mantle of snow
With the rod and the gun we now have done,

The crosse and the oar may go;
But the snowshoe to me a friend shall be.

As we tramp o'er the sparkling snow.

Cho.:—

I give you a toast to-night, my lads.

To pledge you wherever you go:
" Our Canada fair and the lads who wear

The snowshoe." — Hurrah — Tally-ho.
May her Knights of the Shoe to their countiy be true.

At her call ever ready to go,
And her honor defend, — Ay! e'en though the end

Be a grave 'neath the shrouding snow.

Cho. : —

HIGH SCHOOL SONG.

263

HIGH SCHOOL SONG.

Air— "Boys of the Old Brigade."

WHERE are the Boys of the Old High Brigade,

The stout-hearted lads and true ?
Who of doughtiest rival were never afraid,

Fon the old grit and pluck bore them through
The exams, or the match, or may-be the fight —

" In and win" was the word, " till you drop" —
And ever it; ended, the records recite,

With the Boys of the Old High on top !

Chorus :

Steadily, shoulder to shoulder.
Fronting all the world undismayed;
Ready and strong, ring the cheer along,
For the Boys of the Old High Brigade !

Seek ye the Boys of the Old High Brigade ?

Then look high and search wide and seek far.
For, where honors are won, in Arts, Arms, Letters,
Trade,

Preacher's desk, on the Bench, at the Bar,
You will find the Old Boys taking rank with the best ;

And, perhaps, if of some but a name
Is all you may find, for the Boy sleeps at rest,

'Tis an honored one,guarded by Fame.

Cho. :

264

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

Here's to the Boys of the Old High Brigade : — ,

To our Country, our City, our School !
Should ever they call us we're ready to aid —

While we live never treason shall rule !
May the coward, the bully, the snob and the sneak

Ne'er be found in our ranks on parade:
For the right against wrong, 'gainst the strong for the
weak

Stand the Boys of the Old High Brigade !

Cho. :

^K'

A SONG OF LIFES SEASONS.

265

A SONG OF LIFE'S SEASONS*

CHILDHOOD :

" SING me a song of the budding spring-time,

Sing Robin, thou chorister free !
Echoes woodland and meadow the silvery chime;
Lo! a World opes to Life and to me.
Childhood's glad Spring
Joyously sing,
With its presage of what shall be !"

YOUTH :

*' Sing I my song all the long summer days;

As the amorous Sun kisses my cheek
And the breeze, lover-like, with my tresses plays-
For my love's hopes must utterance seek.
Youth's summer wanes;
Pleasure still reigns;
My glad heart its rapture would speak 1"

MANHOOD :

" Sing me no song that shall daintily float.

No Troubadour lay to me sing.
Rings the Trumpet of Fame its far-sounding note;
Wealth and Flonors, O Years, to me bring!
Autumn doth pour
Its garnered store —
Enjoy ! lest thy riches take wing."
18

266 RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

OLD AGE :

"Sing me no song; soon thou shalt be as I,

Thy withered heart Hfeless as stone.
Sing ne'er so sweetly, ye wake but a sigh
Fur the dead past and years that have flown.
Death's Wintry night
Chills with affright;
The cold blasts their requiem moan !"

ENVOY :

Sing while ye may, let bubbling laughter well
As springs the purling brook from icy fetters freed!
Keep young thine heart, its lightsome gladness tell
To others who, mayhap, ^hall cheer thee in i/ijy need !

!il

i8i3.

267

1813.

This date was carved uii the cornice uf the uld stone
house on Mountain Street, pulled down to make way
for the Canadian Pacific Railway track.

NOT in the quiet of the country side,

But midst the rattle of a busy street

And ceaseless hurrying of eager feet,
The daily ebb and flow of city tide,

It stood like some grim sentinel in grey,
Square-shouldered, and end^oldened to withstand
Old Time's advances, or the impious hand

That fain would drag it from its place away.

What stories it could tell, what mystery

Might darkling hide beneath its shingled roof?
What loves and hates and griefs — the warp and wO')f

Of lives that long ago have ceased to be ?

Its youth, like other dwellers in the town.
Was spent 'mid fairer scenes that long ago
Have faded from the sight — years come and go,

Bringing their cares that press the strongest down.

It saw a city rise, engulf the lea,

Where once the tasselled corn and 1)oardcd wheat
Waved in the balmy air, perfumed and sweet

With scent of flowers and fruit-laden tree.

'f"?

268

RHYMES, VERSP:S AND JINGLES.

It saw a generation pass away

Of men who helped to make the city's fame,
Of whom but now a memory and a name

Remain to those who fiii their place to-day.

Now, like sonify garment old and out of date,
Or toil-worn man whose usefulness is past,
Discarded as a worthless thing at last

And trampled under foot by ruthless fate.

1 (

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AT DUTY S POST

269

AT DUTY'S POST.

A sombre herald knocks, enters unbidden

Uttawa's guarded halls;
From his high place the Warder becks, unchidden,

Submissive when He calls.

Within the silence of the presence chamber,

Where sits enthroned the King,
At the dread bar, alone, the summoned member

Waiteth the issuing.

Hush thee ! Can'st trace with thy uncertain vision

The eagle's lofty flights ?
The storm that ruffles not thy vales Elysian

Roars fierce amid the heights.

Fought the last Foe, borne down, the van still holding,

Sleeps he, his guerdon won.
In fallen heroes' pall, reverent enfolding,

Wrap Canada's Great Son.

Embalmed within a nation's storied pages,

On blazoned scroll of fame,
Inscribe, 'mong honored patriots and sages,

One more undying name !

^W^V^B* '' mL

270

RIIYM :-o, VERSES AND JINGLES.

A PASTORAL.

Shepherd, piping :

"Alas! and Alack-a-day! the world's but a weary
waste ;

My flocks my melodies scorn, and roam o'er the
hills away!

My friends at my fate make jest and, mocking, leave
me in haste ;

I've none left ;save thee, my pipe, alas! and alack-
a-day !"

Passing Stranger, musing :

"Now, I wonder what ailcth that boy, mooning out

there all alone;
I'll pause for a moment and learn, for he seems in a

very bad way."

Proceeds, nuittering :

Well! if half that he's singing is true, I fear me his

reason has flown,
What more does he want than a pipe, a lass, and a

lac a day ?"

^-i :,

LAKE ST. LOUIS.

271

LAKE ST. LOUIS, JULY 8th, J 893*

TOLL for the dead !

By the Storm-king's wrath undone.
While the wanton winds 'mid the folds of the lowered
ensij^n play,
Kissed by the slanting snn,

And sigh 'mong the tasselled plumes
That wave o'er the valley ])looms,
Lay him away.

CHEERS for the brave !

Tho' the storm-wolves' jaws, foam-wet,
In their mad rage gnash, shall the brood of the lion
skulk in fear ?
Bravely they dared the fret

And Stress of the gallant fight :
Hail! and hand-clasps of right,
Over his bier.

272

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

\\ '

HOMOEOPATHIC

A little man — a little ill —

A little nurse, a little pill;

A little smile, a little kiss,

A little vow, no little bliss:

A little ch^ef, a little row,

A little void, a little bow.

A little glass, wherein to show

The little sprites that work such woe.

A little poet — little wise —

In little fear of laughing eyes,

A little lesson thus would draw

From little flouts against the Law

That little nurses well may scan —

The simple rule of HA' NA MAN.

OWING TO THE MOON BEING FULL.

(A Winter Idyl.)

"DO'ST SEE, my own, fair Luna's dancing beams,
As elfin Frost-sprites tripping o'er the snow ?

E'en thus my heart, all day and in my dreams.
Ticks its sweet plaint, I love, I love thee so !"

Her fair Head now upon that throbbing breast
Amid the fur that wraps it, soft and thick,

She gently drops, as seeks the bird its nest,
Cooing, " Dear heart, I hear the Luna-tick !"

SANTA CLAUS' NARROW ESCAPE.

273

SANTA CLAUS' NARROW ESCAPE.

HARK ! Hark ! the dogs do hark,

Santa Clans has come to town!

With hnndles and hags his ficet-footod nags

Are scampering np and down!

And nanghty Tom, the Piper's son.
Wlio stole the pig, away does inn.
With flying feet, Tom wild to heat,
The pig rnns sqnealing down the street.

Little Jack Horner, ronnd the next corner,
Stands mnnching his Christmas ])ie,
He gnlped the last plnm, licked clean his fat thnml),
And joined in the hue and cry.

Little Miss Mnffit got up from her tuffit

And into her curds and whev

She dropped the poor spider, who sat down hcside her,

And after them scampered away.

Ding! dong! went the hell

And Pussy said: "Well!

I'll miss all the fun, it's just mean !"

But she called Tommy Stout, who lifted her out,

And away they hoth ran with Tom Green.

Said Simple Simon to the Pieman:
It surely isn't fair
That fun like this be going on
And we not have our share!"

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274

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

Little Georgie wiped his eye,
Kissed the girls and said "Good-bye !"
Told them all to stop and play
And with the rest he ran away.

Handy Spandy, Jack-a-dandy,

Was bnying cake and sugar candy.

He saw them pass the grocer's shop

And out he skipped with his hip-pi-ty-hop.

Jack and Jill, at the foot of the hill
With shouts of merry laughter.
Their empty pail with snow did fill
And quickly followed after.

"Hi

lit
1

Mother Goose, in her doorway, with cap all a-wry.
Shook her broom and cried '' Stop!" as the truants did

spy.
" Marry, laugh an they will, drat the mad-caps say I,
Won't I dust all their jackets for them by-and-bye !''

And they chased good old Santa Claus all down the

street, —
But the sleighing^ was good, and his reindeer were

fleet,—
And they heard him exclaim, as he vanished from

sight:
" Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night !"'

I I

, !

grandma's CHRISTMAS TREE. 275

GRANDMA'S CHRISTMAS TREE,

I'LL TELL you about a wonderful tree

That grows in a wonderful land.
It grows as well in the cold, white snow

As it does in the warm, brown sand.
It doesn't open its buds in Spring,

But in Winter its beau^ty is seen;
And every year it withers and dies,

But the next springs up fresh and green.

It has no need of the heat of the sun,

Nor the dew, nor the freshening rain;
For no roots at all has this wonderful tree —

So you see the reason is plain.
But it loves thei glow of the candle-light.

Or the warmth of the cheerful fire;
And its spreading branches no^l and bend

As the sparks shoot high and higher.

And the wonderful fruit on the laden boughs

Of that wonderful, beautiful tree!
There are golden apples, and silver nuts,

And such candies you never may see!
And the fire-flies come, and the fairies, too.

To gaze on the wonderful sight;
And hang on the branches their tiny lamps.

Their frolicsome dances to light.

A wonderful, jolly, round, little old man,
In a hole in that tree has a store

Of toys and of dolls and of books and of games.
And wonderful things by the score.

An4 if you are good perhaps you'll get some;
And perhaps there's an apple for me

Growing there on that wonder from Santa Claus land-
Grandma's wonderful Christmas Tree !

276

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

■A

M
«

SING A SONG OF CHRISTMAS.

Sing a song of Christmas —

Pockets full or dry —
Four-and-twenty folks to eat

Plum pudding and mince pie.
When the pie has vanished,

Hands round in a ring:
Oh, what fun in Baby-land,

Where Santa Clans is king !

Children romping round the house;

Noise and laughter sunny;
Speeches in the parlor,

Clever, dry or funny.
Grandma says: '* Oh, let them play,

And never mind their clothes !"
Grandpa's looking for his specs.

And finds them on, his nose !

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CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

" We fear thee not, O winter !

Though stern thy face and grim ;
Though vast thy strength to crush and rend

Our bodies, limb from limb.
On Scandinavian mountain,

On stormy northern seas,
Our fathers braved thy wrath of yore,
And heeded not thy sullen roar

Amid the bending trees."

" They loved thy gusty music,

And from full chests and throats
Rivalled, in happy recklessness,

The Storm-King's boisterous notes j
They made thee now their playmate,

They made thee now their slave ;

Thy frost-built roads for them to ride,

With fair- haired lemans side by side,

Above the rushing wave."

—John Reade-

" LET me but make the songs of a nation and I
care not who makes the laws," said the philosopher;
and had he added : " vShow me the sports of a nation
and I will tell you the nature of the laws they will be
governed by, or make for themselves," he would have
but rounded out and made more complete the
oft-quoted aphorism.

The inborn love of action and the free out-door
life, the Anglo-Saxon inherits as rightful dower, en-

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280 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

tailed through countless generations down from the
j: days when his Norse ancestors swept sea and land by

j^ the might of a strong arm, trained in sports and mimic

j: war, and knew not snch a word as fear.

(! It is true to-day that the battles of England are won

Ji on her playing fields, and no less true is it that the

' achievements of her sons in the more peaceful patlis

of commerce, statecraft, and the founding of empires
i far beyond the bounds of her island seas have been

accomplished by;the "push" and "hold on" learned by
them in their manly sports, the heritage of freemen.

Canada is a new country — ^but an infant yet among
the nations — and the serious work ,of the settler and
pioneer was necessarily of a nature to preclude the
idea of much recreative amusement; nevertheless was
this very labor a training of men who, with axe and
paddle, swept a way for their sons to come after them.
These in turn, born on the soil or attracted to it from
beyond seas and still , under the necessity of workmg
their way, find in the complications of mcxlern civili-
zation a wear and tear that tends to speedy degenera-
tion , unless supplemented with the wholesome tonic
to be found in the bracing out-door air; and the sports
of their own or their adopted land are seized upon and
made,to conform to the desired end. The Englishman
; contributed his cricket bat and football; the Scotch-

man his golf club and "stane"; and even the Irish-
I man's warlike shillalah when transplanted in our peace-

ful soil bloomed out into the mildly aggressive '*shin-
I ty," from which, in turn, by iudicious pruning and

I grafting, was evolved the pu :k-persuading hockey.

I The Canadian, in his new-world way, contributes his

quota; taking from the Indian his lacrosse, he im-

CAPxNIVALS.

281

proves it out of sight and beats him at his own game ;
then, from the Umbo of a forgotton past drags to ihe
light the bark canoe that once bore hunting and war
parties of braves over stream and lake, the snow-shoe
that carried him over leagues of trackless snow; and
the toboggan, upon which was packed the hunter's
outfit, supplies, and captured game, cooly appropriat-
ing the lot to his own use and recreation.

Passing by much of all this witii regret as per-
taining to Summer's green fields and rippling waters
now hidden beneath the wraps Winter has folded them
in against the blustering onslaught of the Frost-King
and his attendant winds, let, us see what use Canada
is making of her acquisitions, and whether her sons
are being trained by their unequalled privileges into
that sturdy, self-reliant, healthy manhood so essential
in holding their own in face of the great questions
that press for solution in this history-making epoch.

" The city keeps liigh festival,

The icy air, like wine,
Quickens each pace to bounding glee,

Bright eyes with ghidiiess shine.
With merry laughter flowing fast

From countless summits high —
Like flashing arrows from a bow,

The swift toboggans fly !"'

" And far on yonder mountain side
A chain of living light 1
Each link a stalwart snow-shoer

With torch that blazes bright,—
A jewelled order proudly flung
On old Mount Royal's breast,
A starry circlet from the skies
Dropt on his snowy crest."
19

^ 1

282 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

" A moment, and the magic scene
nil Grows strangely bright as day,

For, see ! an aimy storms the fort,

Oh, guard it while you may !
Hurrah ! the rockets leap aloft,

The waving torches flare —
A rainbow shower of golden stars
Breaks into glory there."

— "Fleurange."

The suggestion made some years ago, that the
snow-shoe clubs of Montreal should unite in a grand
Carnival of winter sports to which all who chose to
come should be made welcome guests, was hailed as
an inspiration and speedily acted on. The citizens
at large were fired with the idea and subscribed liber-
ally to a fund which they placed in the hands of ihe
clubs to\ administer, and, with the happy idea, born
of the suggestion of some artistic frost-sprite, the Ice
Palace, as the piccc-de-rcsistance, the carnivals were
launched and enthusiastically jcarried out by the clubs
for several seasons till they got to be looked upon as
a money-making institution by certain interests, when
the disinterested support of club members fell away,
enthusiasm waned, and it was deemed advisable to
drop the project for a time.

Who among the thousands who saw the wonderful
creation rising in tower and turret and battlement
of pure, glistening ice on Dominion Square can forget
or describe its weird and transcendent beauty as it
burst upon their wondering eyes, perhaps at a late
j ' hour on a moonlight night when none else were near,

; or again when in the presence of 50,000 people pack-

ing every inch of the vast square 2,000 snow-shoers
in full uniform advanced in column down from the
mountain, each with a blazing torch and a bundle of

■ i

CARNIVALS.

283

fireworks, and opened a rain of colored fire, quickly
replied to by shell and rocket from the garrison with-
in, who surrendered their stronghold only when the
mines exploding in a blaze of myriad-colored lights
warned them it was high time ?

What a sight, too, was the railway built across the
ice on the river and regularly used for traffic; the
grand carnival drive in which ingenuity was taxed
to the uttermost to invent something novel, quaint, or
grotesque, in the way of equipage, each club vicing
to out-do the other in their efforts to get the biggest
" car" drawn by the greatest number of horses and
packed with the largest crowd of horn-blowing, shout-
ing members; the massive arches spanning the main
avenues manned by their living freight of uniformed
snow-shoers, all under the gracious auspices and smiles
of vice-regal countenance ?

All this, however, while interesting as a spectacular
feature of our winter sports to outsiders, is not the
phase most interesting to those who enjoy them for
their intrinsic worth. Your true sportsman abhors
all this fuss and feathers, and, ^n his pessimistic way,
growls out his belief that it is all owing to this sort of
thing that general interest in some of our winter sports
seems to have fallen ofif of late years, forgetting that
others have greatly increased in favor and that fluctua-
tions of this nature are not unusual in these as in
other matters where fashion has her say but which
Time in his rounds generally manages to smooth
into their proper grooves. Let us, then, glance brief-
ly in detail at some of our winter sports, native or ac-
climatized, beginning with those distinctly Canadia.i,
and taking first,

284 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

) I !

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SNOW-SHOEING.

" Hilloo. Hilloo, Hilloo, Hilloo !
Gather, gather, ye men in white ;
The wind blows keenly, the moon is bright,
The sparkling snow lies firm and while ;
Tie on the shoes, no time to lose,
We must be over the hill to-night."

*' Shake off, shake off the clinging snow ;
Unloose the shoe, the sash untie ;
Fling tuque and mittens lightly by ;
The chimney fire is blazing high,
And, richly stored, the festive board
Awaits the merry company."

—Arthur Weir.

It is in this spirit the present-day Canadian accepts
and uses one of the gifts handed down to him from his
Indian predecessors. UnHke another gift, the lacrosse,
which was avowedly an implement ministering purely
to his amusement, the snow-shoe was, and still is, to
the Indian, and his congener, the nor'-west half-breed,
in the distant wilds, and even to the isolntcd/m I? ita fit
and settler in his cabin, an absolute necessity to ex-
istence amid the wastes of snow. As his canoe car-
ried the .Indian over the net-work of waterways in
summer, so only jby means of the snow-shoe was it
possible in winter to pursue his game or reach a dis-
tant point on his expeditions. In a recent speech at
a snow-shoe dinner Sir Donald Smith touched on this
phase of the subject, showing from his past experiences
as a Hudson Bay fur-trader |how forcibly this fact was
continually borne in upon the hardy nor'-wester, when,

SNOW-SHOEING. 285

to be unskilled in its use might mean at least the loss
of his dinner if not his life.

The British g-overnment, too, early recognized its
value as an adjunct to tiie equipment of the troops
quartered in Canada during the winter, and snow-
shoes (?) formed a regular, part of the military stores.
The interrogation point seems necessary, for, with the
proverbial perspicacity of the War Office, the articles
so misnamed were about as unsuitable for the purpose
as they could well be. "Pancakes," the boys called
them, as, sitting on the fence of the " Priest's Farm,"
they gleefully watched the antics of " Tonmiy Atkins"
floundering in the snow in the effort to acconmiodate
himself to his ungainly foot-gear.

Snow-shoeing as an organized ,club sport may be
said to date from about the year 1840, at which point
the history of the Montreal club — the oldest — begins,
and three years later were held on the St. Pierre race-
course, what Mr. H. W. Becket, the historian of tlie
club, claims were the first regular snow-shoe races ever
held in Canada, consisting of a 4-mile flat, and i-milc
steet^lechase over four 4-feet hurdles! These races be-
came established as a recognized annual event at which,
for some time, Indians and white men competed together
and at first for prizes in money; such notable men as
Gen. Eyre; Gen. Sir W. F. ^Williams, K.C.B.; Gen.
Sir Chas. Ash. Wyndham, V-C, K.C.B.; Lord Paulet;
Gen. Sir John Michel, K.C.B.; Gen. Russell, C.B ;
Gen. Bissett; .Maj.-Gen Lindsay, etc., etc., and the
Colonels commanding the various regiments from
time to time garrisoned in Montreal figuring as lion,
stewards at the meets. Bi-weekly tramps became fix-
tures, , and Dolly's, Moore's, and other old-time hos-

286 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

tleries became famous for their club dinners. Long
distance cross-country and mountain steeplechases
were instituted and participated in by members of this
and other clubs as they rapidly sprang into existence,
and in glancing back over the long record one reads
the 'names of men who became prominent in all walks
of life. Many are dead, and some who are living have,
al?s! attained such prominence in other ways as to
effectually deter them from attempting to stoop to tie
on the shoes, not to speak of running with them.
H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught, the Earl of Dufferm,
the Marquis of Lome, the Earl of Lansdowne, Lord
Stanley ,of Preston, and Lord Aberdeen have all been
patrons of the sport during their tenure of residence
in Canada, are honorary members for life of the Mont-
real Club, and appear, in the large club pictures among
their fellow-members.

Racing is but an incident of this grand sport. I*-
is in the tramp pure and simple that the fascination
lies as, with the club, or perhaps in a carefully selected
party of kindred spirits — and their sisters — a start is
made. for, say, the splendid rendezvous of the Athletic
Club House at Cote dcs Neiges; the bright afternoon
sun, the smiling moon, or the laughing stars lighting
up the blue Canadian sky and glancing from the jewels
that flash and sparkle upon the diamond-strewn fields
over which the cheek-flushing breezes are whistling
their inspiring song-

As talent flowed into the clubs with increasing mem-
bership, the social features of club nights and more
public club concerts became prominent. The club
poet was born — his early efforts, however,; being more
noticeable for force than poetic fire, until Dr. Beers

SNOW-SHOEING. 287

presented the Montreal and St. George ;clubs with
verses of more than common merit that were hailed
with delight and are still sung as club songs. One of
the latest contributions, a gem worthy of its author,
W. D. Lighthall, is as follows:

ALL HAIL TO A NIGHT.

'* All hail to a night when the stars stand bright

Like gold-dust in the sky ;
With a crisp track long, and an old-time song I

And the old-time company." ■

Chorus :

*' All hail to a night when the Northern light

A welcome to us waves ;
Then the show-shoer goes o'er the ice and the snows, j

And the frost and the tempest braves !"

" The snow-shoer's tent is the firmament,

His breath the rush of the breeze.
Earth's loveliest sprite, the Frost Queen at night,

Lures him silvery through the trees."

Chorus :

" Yes, the snow-shoer's queen is Winter serene,

We meet her in the glade ;

Dark-blue-eyed, a fair, pale bride

In her jewelled veil arrayed."

Chorus :

•* Let us up then and toast to the uttermost.

Fair Winter ! We Knights of the Shoe ;

And in circle again join hearts with the men

That of old-time toasted her too."

Chorus :

The literature of the snow-shoe presents a wide field
as yet comparatively unworked and offers inducement
to the ablest pens in its varied phases of song, story
and verse. The latel C. D. Shanly's weird yet beautiul

288 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

poem, "The Walker of the Snow,",pubhshed in "Har-
per's Magazine" some years ago, may be cited as an
example of what has been done in the last named di-
rection, and, as a recent contribution, the writer's lines,
entitled : " The Birth of the Snow-shoe," may, perhaps,
be permitted mention.

The shoe, with its accompaniment, the moccasin,
and the mode of fastening to the foot, are, in all es-
sential features, the same to-day as when first mavle
by the Indian for his own use. He still is the only
maker ,of the shoe, but, like other manufacturers, has
had to conform to the demands of his patrons as to
style, weight, etc., but the principle of construction
remains the samq and cannot be improved upon, and

** The harp-twang of the snow-shoe
As it springs beneath his feet "

rings with the same music in the white man's ears as
it did when the first Indian hunter donned it.^

The costume — used also for tobogganing — is an
evolution, and though incidentally picturesque, was
designed specially for its serviceable qualities, and for
the purpose intended is the best possible arrangement.
The Tuque (by the colors of which the clubs ire
known) and thel ,sash are but improvements in the
articles imported in the early years of the century by
the large firms by the bale or hogshead for sale to the
lumber-men and habitants. Red and blue were the
colors then aflfected, and the traditional colors are
maintained in the present division of Quebec political
parties into Rouge and Bleu. Both the sash and the
ttique were adopted by the Patriotes of '37 as their
distinctive badges as enfants-du-sol. The blanket is a

SNOW-SHOKING.

289

legacy from the Nor'-west and Hudson Bay Cos.,
where it has long been used, and its peculiar light,
porous, yet heat-retaining qualities appreciated. Much
of our history is thus woven into the costume that sits
so gracefully on the stalwart forms of our snow-shocrs.
That they are conscious, of it and cherish its memories,
and that patriotic hearts quicken beneath its warmth,
might have been gathered from the gusto with which
the snow-shoe song, " Gather round," composed for
the occasion by the writer, was sung to a popular air at
the Jubilee concert of the Montreal club in 1890.

290 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

TOBOGANNING.

The Tobog-gan, with the Sn(nv-shoe, is the Indian's
contribution to , the white man's amusements. It was,
however, as a prosaic sled to transport his belon<^ings
that ,the original owner made use of it. Made of a
couple of thin birch planks, 7 or 8 feet long, turned
up at the ends and bound together with " gut" by
means of cross-bars, and side rails, it formed the best
possible kind of traiucau peculiarly well adapted to
glide along the top of the deep snow without sinking
or being- easily upset. With his supporting snow-
shoes the hunter might travel over untracked wastes
dragging" his loaded toboggan behind, or, seated on
it, drive his team of dogs at break-neck speed, just as
he does to-day in the North-west wilds, as a free
hunter or an employee of the Hudson Bay Co. In
early times it must have been with great difficulty
that the savage artizan contrived to split his boards
down to the required thinness, combining minimum
weight and strength. As people began to discover its
utility as a factor ministering to their pleasures, and
the demand for toboggans for this purpose increased,
the friendly saw-mill aided him materially in this part
of the work, though the making of the ** Indian" to-
bog"gan remained in his hands and his own design
was adhered to. While the sport was confined to
the natural hills of the country and unoccupied city
slopes, where a track had to be made over virgin snow,
it was the best design that could be imagined ; but, as
vacant hills in the city were seized upon for building

'ii

TOHOCANNINO.

201

purposes, the idea of the artificial "shde" with its Iced
"chutes" was generally adopted, and the white tnan's
ingenuity was called upon to devise something hettcr
adapted to the new conditions of the hard, glossy sur-
faces of the slides. Various hard woods were experi-
mented with and smoothed to a high polish;//^'////;;/
vif{re nmners were added to reduce friction and in-
crease the speed, and, with its luxurious cushions and
trimmings, the modern toboggan was improved out of
sight of the old, discarded " Indian" pattern.

In the great carnival years this sport was the most
in favor with our people and the chief attraction to
visitors, as many as ten or a dozen slides, with from
two to five "chutes " each, being built at heavy expense
in Montreal alone; these furishing the impetus and
design for many others elsewhere in Canada and the
United States. Owing to the whims of fashion, how-
ever, this grand sport has temporarily fallen into dis-
favor, and of all of these, not one slide was kept open
by any club in Montreal last season. The Mont-
real club, however, instead of sending their tim-
ber to the wood-pile — where most of the other slides
found their way — have wisely stored it till reviving m-
terest shall again demand a return to this exciting end
healthy recreation.

One of the greatest pleasures chib members had in
extending the hospitality of the slides freely to visitors
in Carnival times was in enjoying the unbounded ap-
preciation with which the " untutored barbarians" en-
tered into the sport when once their not unnatural
fears were overcome and they were induced to " take a
turn." Many are the tales told of experiences at the
slides where members unavailingly tried to persuade

l!l,!

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292 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

spectators, who had come hundreds of miles for that
very purpose and now stood with hesitating yet long-
ing looks at the whizzing tobaggans flashing by, to
" try just one !"

The writer calls to mind one evening in the <Md
" Tuque Bleue" slide meeting two men walking down
the steps after waiting all night at the top trying to
make up their minds to " have a go-" They were from
the West Indies; had never felt colder weather than
60 degrees, and had clothed themselves in expensive
furs from top to toe. One flatly refused to risk it,
but the other, more venturesome, thought he would,
and being enjoined at the top\ to " take a breath that
would last him to the bottom and to hold on" used
the remaining gasp to exclaim when we got ihere:
" ! that was worth coming all the way and spend-
ing $1,000 to get !" "Well, try another then !" ** No,
Sir! not for $5,000 !"

While some slight element of danger is always
present in the sport, it is, owing to the construction
of the wall-in "chutes" and the care exercised by expe-
rienced sliders and watchful committee men, reduced
to the minimum that only adds zest. Hundreds of
special correspondents have described the sensations
they experienced; here^ is the way one of our own
writers puts it in verse:

*' The scene lends its aid, see ! the moon's shining high,
So bright, the stars scarcely are seen in the sky.
A background of pines sway in melody sweet,
The snow crisp and dry 'neath the moccasined feet ;
And close side by side at the head of the " chute"
A maiden and youth, each in gay blanket suit."

TOBOGANNING. 293

" The wind's kissed her cheek to a bright rosy hue,
Her eyes glisten clear as the soft summer dew ;
And though the hill drops nearly eighty degrees,
Her cheek never pales, she seems quite at her ease ;
And soon they are seated, one word I and they fly-
Yes ! swoop like the eagle from mountain-top high !"

•• How firmly she's poised, the lines taut in her hand,
While he seated sideways, with foot keeps command
Of the flying toboggan, his face o'er her shoulder
So close to her cheek ; one strong arm doth enfold her
Just to keep her from swaying, so great is the pace
The Lightning Express would be passed in the race !"

— O'Hara Raynes.

Tobogganing is at present under the ban— not so
much of ecclesiastical as fashion's frown — but after a
more or less lengthy term of rest will, without doubt,
spring again with renewed vigour into the favor of
our fair and stalwart citizens.

294 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

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SKATING.

" Come to the moonlit lake,
Where rays of silver bright

Their slender arrows break

On the glassy pavement bright :

For hearts are gay, and joy is rife ;
And youth and beauty, love and life,

Are out on the ice to-night.

** Bright is the fairy scene ;

The ringing steels resound :
And gleams the glowing sheen

To feet of beauty bound ;
And health, with rosy pencil seeks
To paint the blush in beauty's cheeks.

And the echoing laugh rings round."

• :

'* Earth and our cares forgot,

Our hearts we'll then reveal ;
And spurn each colder thought,

As the ice the flashing steel.
Who, 'nealh the sway of Luna's ray,
Love's sweet commands could disobey,

Or its brighter beams conceal ! "

—John Lowry Stuart.

As regards Lower Canada, the invitation " Come to
the moon-lit lake!" must be taken fieuratively, for, ex-
cept under unusually favorable conditions of very cold
weather in the late fall or early winter permitting good
ice to form before the heavy snow-falls cover it up,

SKATING. 295

most of the skating is done in covered rinks. A no-
ticeable exception to. this, however, may be pointed to
in the extensive open-air rink instituted by the Mont-
real .Toboggan Club, when their special sport waned,
on the grounds of the Montreal Amateur Athletic
Association. It is the largest of the kind in Canada,
and probably elsewhere, its race track being four laps
to the mile. Several successful carnivals have already
been given and championship speed-skating contests
held thereon, at which latter the world's champions
have made their only appearance in canada. The Vic-
toria Skating Club's rink in Montreal and that of the
Quebec^ Skating Club are fine examples of covered
rinks. Ottawa, St. John, Halifax, among other places
have also fine buildings devoted to the sport
which, while not distinctively Canadian, may be
said to have here reached its highest • devel-
opment. Hundreds of really good skaters of both
sexes are on the membership rolls of the various
clubs, and not a 'few are well up to championship
form. The world's champion figure skater, Mr. Louis
Rubenstein, is a member of the Victoria and Montreal
clubs. His experiences with the Russian police on
his visit to St. Petersburg, where he won the cham-
pionship, may be remembered. His threatened ex-
pulsion from the realms of the Czar simply on account
of his Jewish birth, before he had even time to unpack
his skates, was only averted by the intervention of the
British ambassador, and even he could merely obtain
as a great favor permission for the Canadian skater
to remain till after the competition closed.

Speed-skating, under the auspices of the Canadian
Skating Association, who hold an annual champion-

; (i

296 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

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ship meet, has made great strides in recent years.
Though our skaters had for long to take second place
to the American and foreign cracks it is hoped that the
near future will see them leading in all events, as the
Winnipeg champion did in most at the world's cham-
pionship meet held in Montreal in '96.

It is in the fancy dress skating carnivals and mas-
querades, however, one sees the embodiment of the
poetry and fascination of the sport. Ingenuity is
here, again, taxed to the utmost to devise something
new and attractive, either in the comic, grotesque,
or simply beautiful in costume, and the scene in the
great rink, packed with spectators in tiers surrounding
the glossy surface of the polished ice mirroring the
glint of the electric lights of every hue, when the band
breaks in on the quiet with its burst of music, and
throngs of gaily dressed skaters sweep in a whirlwind
across thei unscarred surface of the crystal floor, is
one that surpasses in its charm anything else out cf
Fairyland-

The evolution of the skate is an interesting study.
Even those of us who still wish to be thought young
can remember the fearful and wonderful contrivance
of our early days with its wooden frame .fastened on
by a yard or two of leather strap ; its blade chopped off
short under the heel, " guttered" along the bottom
and terminating in front in a protuberance that coiled
up over the toe with the graceful curve of a poodle's
tail. Now,, the skater has choice of the many excellent
paterns in the elegant mountings of burnished steel,
nickel plate, and brass finish, either adjustable or
screwed on to the boot. Speed-skating has developed
tb raordinary structure known as the "long-reach"

SKATING.

297

skate, whose 22-inch blade and attachment, while any-
thing but , handsome, seem well adapted for the pur-
poses intended.

The -revival of interest in skating has been most
marked during the past ,few seasons, previous to
which, owing to the whims of fashion now affecting
tobogganing, it was quite out of favor That it will
ever, lose its place as one of our healthier winter sports
need never be feared while blood runs and young men
and maidens have an affinity for one another.

298 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

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HOCKEY.

*' O wild Kaleidoscopic panorama of jaculatory arms and legs,
The wriggleness, the wormlike, snaky movement and life of it ;
The rowdyism, and e/an, the slugging and scraping, the cowboy

Homeric ferocity.
The bleeding noses, the shins, the knuckles abraded ;

'* That's the way to make men I go it, you border ruffians, I like ye.
O, wild, tumultuous, multitudinous shindy.

Well, this is the boss ;
Purely physical glow and exultation this of abundantest muscle ;
I wish John Sullivan were here.
O, the gore and the glory of battle !
Fall all over yourselves, squirm out ! Leg it !
Say, you big chump, don't you kill that little chap
When you are about it !

Well, I'd like to know what an off-side is ihen ? Draw ?
Where's your draw ?
Yer lie !"

—Adapted from ''The Football Match " ; Anon.

In enjoying a stroll in the crisp air of a bright win-
ter night, a stranger might pass on his way a large
structure of '^no architectural beauty. On pausing
to learn its nature, his ears are saluted by a burst of
strident yelling as if a thousand demons were venting
their joy at being let loose, while an ominous rattle
of clashing sticks suggests possibilities of a riot going
on within its walls. The propriety of ringing for the
ambulance or calling out the police suggesting itself
as hei hurriedly seeks an entrance! seems worthy of
being acted upon as the wild scene breaks on the star-

•I

HOCKEY. 299

tied spectator when once inside. Fourteen men, on
skates, apparently equally divided into opposing fac-
tions, each armed with a heavy club, are chasing each
other around the icy arena at lightning speed, seem-
ingly bent on each other's destruction with their nmr-
derous weapons, while their mad efforts are applauded
by their respective adherents in the ear-splitting man-
ner that first attracted attention to the deadly fracas.
While he gazes in horror at the whirling sticks a man
is felled to the ice before his eyes, and e'er one can in-
terpose any assistance the fallen warrior is up and
off to join the vielce at the other end of the arena where
another man is being hurled bodily from the ice
among the spectators. The horrible din increases;
the skaters fly around the ice seemingly oblivious of
everything in their excitement, when suddenly a man
standing near a couple of poles stuck in the ice holds
up his hand! A shrill whistle sounds above the up-
roar! One of the factions executes a sort of war-
dance upon the ice and throw their clubsi up in the air
in apparent glee, while their friends on the platform
redouble their cries as if to make up for the silence of
the other faction, who look sullenly on — the fighting
men,meanwhile, having,apparently by common consent,
withdrawn to take breath and ease their wounds. As
the crowd still remain, it is evident there is yet more
bloody work to follow and the stranger waits with them,
chained to the spot and fearful of the outcome. As
if by a preconcerted arrangement, the fighting men on
skates file out on to the ice at the sound of the shrill
whistle before heard and form up in opposing lines,
while their/supporters hold their breath waiting for the
word to begin. This is given and the turmoil goes

300 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

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it: ,

on fiercer than ever. On looking closer, it would ap-
pear as if the battle were conducteil on certain estab-
lished rules which each appears desirous of enforcing
against the other party and disregarding themselves,
as cries sounding like *' Foul !" " Off-side !" heard
above the din, and addressed to the man with the whis-
tle, frequently call for his intervention between the
disputants. Suddenly the whole mob fairly fly over
the ice on their ringing blades and gather in a seething
mass of ,arms, legs, and whirling clubs right at the
spectator's feet. Their fierce blows fall swift and
deadly till one of the combatants, evidently sorely
pressed, breaks away from the melee and rushes to
the other end out of harm's way, whereupon the entire
band of thugs turn to pursue the unlucky wight flee-
ing from their vengeance. The crowd evidently look
on this as a good joke, for they break into a roar :
" Well played, sir!" " Run it out !" " Strike for home!"
and other witticisms. Terror seems to lend him wings
and he skims with the speed of a wild duck over the
open space, apparently making for the refuge between
the two posts at the other end, which seem to be placed
there for the purpose of affording retreat in such emer-
gency, and which his pursuers are striving to prevent
him gaining. The distance is short; he has a good
lead; and, encouraged by the sympathy which his
flight evokes, in one last, bold dash he bursts through
the goal just as a fell blow aimed at him by the for-
ward man of the pursuing horde misses him by an incii
and falls with a sickening thud on the resounding ice-
Amid the howls of disappointed rage on the one hand
and exultant yells of triumph on the other, from the
spectators, the pursuers withdraw, and the stranger.

HOCKEY. 301

dazed and sickened with the sights and sounds of bat-
tle, staggers out into the fresh, pure air of the street
and wearily seeks his bed in the hotel.

As he reads in his morning paper a glowing account
of the "grand game" between two crack teams for the
Hockey Championship, it dawns upon him that is
wliat he witnessed and he questions : " If this is the
way Canadians play, what will they do when it comes
to fighting ?"

Ice Hockey is a purely Canadian sport — a growth
of recent years evolved out of the old game of " shin-
ny" — with a code of rules adapted from those of Foot-
ball and Lacrosse. Games are played by one side
of seven men attempting to drive the "puck" between
the goals defended by the other by means of the
" hockey" stick. Matches are decided by the majority
of games won in a specified time of play. Owing to
the confined space and the speed with which skaters
can cover thq ice, it is one of the most exciting games
possible; besides full knowledge of how to play it, re-
quiring '^skating; ability of the highest order. Long
may it flourish !

(I.
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302 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

.: ' (

CURLING.

"Whose stones are iron."

The *' roarin' game" of old Scotland was brought
to the land of their adoption by her sturdy sons as one
of their dearest possessions, and has taken firm hold
of the congenial soil of Canada's wintry fields. Its
history as a club sport goes at least as far back as the
founding of the Montreal club in 1807, and its growth
from that time onward has been prodigious. A no-
ticeable and pleasing feature of the sport is that, while
at one time it was almost entirely played by elderly
men, at the present time) the hope of the clubs centres
in the young men who, attracted by its charms, are
flocking to the rinks in great numbers and are fast
elbowing their way to the front among the veterans.
Its great eharm lies in its being essentially a game to
be played; and, as a means of recreation and rest, be-
cause of its wholesome change from the labors of busy
men, it holds the highest rank. In its hearty, social
qualities and the free and easy spirit of catnaraderie
it engenders, the banker and his clerk, the merchant
and his bookkeeper, the contractor and his foreman,
in their enthusiastic pursuit of it, find a common
ground where they can meet in that democratic uncon-
ventionality its enjoyment demands. It is probably
enjoyed more universally in Canada than any other
winter sport; its votaries being gathered into some

CURLING. 303

one hundred and fifty clubs scattered from Halifax to
Vancouver, with membership running into the thou-
sands and much valuable property. The heavy snow-
falls — as in skating — operate against its being played
in the open air to any great extent, and covered rinks
are almost universal. Considering the difficulty of
keeping good ice, and the bitter cold sometimes ex-
perienced out-doors, these arc on the whole preferable.
As the Irishman' is said to dearly love a fight, so the
Scotchman " maun hae a ding" at somebody, and he
and his Canadian curling kinsman find their opportu-
nity in the multitudinous club, inter-club, inter-pro-
vincial, and even international matches continually
going on, which, while in progress, make the neigh-
borhood anything but dull. The controversy, regard-
ing the respective merits of the " granite stone" and the
" iron stone" is a dangerous subject for a stranger to
meddle with when being argued, and should he at-
tempt to settle it by suggesting that " stone is stone,
and iron isn't stone at all" he would only still further
confuse matters and get himself disliked. In fine, it
may be said that the game is here to stay, and, if not
of pure C- adian blood, certainly an adopted child of
good parentage and destined to attain yet sturdier
growth.

304 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

■tl

(

( ,

ICE BOATING.

Here, again, the heavy snowfalls, in the Province of
Quebec, prevent enjoyment of this grand and excit-
ing sport, and, beyond the outfits owned by some
yachting men near Montreal, and only used occa-
sionally in the exceptional opportunities of rarely
favorable weather when a good surface of ice can be
had, the sport is little known hereabout. On the
Hudson River the sport is probably at its best, and on
Toronto Bay it may be enjoyed to the fullest extent
in Cana<:la- There is no little danger connected with
it, and only those with the fullest knowledge of sailing
under such unusual conditions should attempt to han-
dle a " boat." The speed is terrific, and on a favor-
able tack is actually *' faster than the wind" that drives
the boat along. Besides the danger of collisions, air-
holes, cracks and hummocks are ever present snares
in the path of the ice-yachtsman; and owing to the
speed, if a "spill" does take place, the damage to boat
and gear — not to speak of flesh and bones — is serious.
It is not the danger, however, that deters, but, were it
possible, all the waters that in summer float Canada's
ycung 'manhood in canoe, and skifif, and yacht would
see him skimming over their frozen surface in his
boat on skates.

( '

'.(

SLEIGIIINCl. 305

SLEIGHING.

In parts of the Province of Quebec the sleigh is in
use six months of the year, and in the cities the au-
thorities proclaim the times when wheels shall give
place to runners, and vice versa. Aside from its value
as a vehicle, the sleigh has its uses in niin'' tering to
the pleasures of the people in merry sleigh-drive par-
ties, where the respective merits of the cutter-for-tvvo
and the great four-horse affair with its jolly load of
occupants have each their defenders. Trotting
matches on the ice of the frozen rivers are much in
vogue in the country parts, and, given a good horse
with well " pointed" shoes, harnessed to a light trotting
" sulky," your habitant is the happiest of men — if he
has been fortunate in doing up the other fellow in the
race. The conventionalities of modern life in a large
city have tended to modify somewhat the spontaneity
and freshness of the old-time sleigh drive; but this is
offset by the magnificence of the turnouts of such an
organization as the Montreal Tandem Club at a full
meet. It is believed that nowhere in the world can
such a display be met with; the fine horseflesh, shining
harness, elegant sleighs and rich robes — not to speak
of the beauty enthroned amid it all — being one of the
sights of the city on a fine Saturday afternoon.

306 CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS.

IN CONCLUSION.

we cannot do better than quote a couple of stanzas
from Mrs. L. R. Lefebre's spirited Carnival poem :

*' So may faint hearts ever gather

From Canadian sports and play,
Something of the force that, working,

Hewed the forests, cleared the way :
For the tree shows fairer blossom

Where the roots are wide and deep,
And the pleasure turns to glory

When the victors revel keep."

" Long may Canadians bear thy name

In unity and pride, —
Their progress, like thy rushing streams,

Roll a resistless tide :
Their hearts be tender as the flowers

That o'er thy valleys grow ;
Their courage rugged as the frost

When winds of winter blow ;
Their honour brilliant as the sky's,

And stainless as thy snow I "

I I

I (

Hil

ril

I ;

NOTES.

CAMP AND LAMP.

Encouraged by the critical judgment of friends
whose opinions he vakies, the author was led to gather
such of his stray pieces of verse and prose sketches,
as have already appeared in the pages of periodical lit-
erature, and, together with much new matter specially
prepared, to issue them in this form. He is indebted,
among other kindnesses, to his frend, Mr. W. D.
Lighthall, for a suggestion which led to the adoption
of the present title.

FRONTISPIECE.

This is from a photograph of Macnider Falls, Little
Metis, taken by Dr. RoUo Campbell, of Montreal, and
reproduced by his kind permission.

TENT, ROD AND PEN.

This series of sketches form what good old Isaak
Walton might term a " Discourse" on the first article
of the Angler's Creed: "It's not all of Fishing to
Catch Fish." The two papers,

Tfoot Lines,
The Ensnaring Dimples of Fontinalis.

are re-written and enlarged from articles which ap- f

peared in "Outing" and " Our City and Our Sports."

f' fftfeyjiir

310

NOTES.

How to make a Fly-Rod-

is reproduced from the " Young Canadian" by the
kind permission of the Editor. In preparing it, the
author acknowledges valuable suggestions from Henry
P. Wells' book: "Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle." The
other papers were specially written for this work.

fi.
i

ANNEXED.

Little Metis, the summer home of the author since
early boyhood, is here written of as " Macnider,"
from the name of the township. Save for the mythical
legend of shipwreck and lost treasure, locally current
since early days, the story, such as it is, is purely ima-
ginative.

BALLADS AND POEMS.

How wc Won the Trophy.

The author acknowledges suggestive assistance and
kind criticism in the writing of this from Mr- Lighthall,
who had himself contemplated doing something of the
kind for Lacrosse, but retired in the. writer's favor on
learning of his attempt, and presented 'him with three
or four lines already written, which have been em-
bodied in the opening stanza.

The Bell of Justice.

Had the writer known Longfellow's " Bell of Atri"
at the time of writing this ballad it is not likely that it
would have been attempted. On its completion, it
was submitted to one of the large American maga-
zines, and in returning it the editor went out of his
way to add to the conventional note of thanks: "We

NOTES. 311

have seen this incident told in verse before — but not
as well told as yours." It is still an open question
whether this may be attributed to "temporary aberra-
tion" or a kind wish to encourage with high commen-
dation and full knowledge.

In Matabele Land.

" * Once between the attacks,' says a Matabele ac-
count of the death of Captain Wilson's police party,
cut oflf and killed to a man in the recent South African
war, * when the Matabeles had fallen back, the men all
stood up and took off their hats and sung.'

•' They stood alone, a score or two. They had but
fifty rounds of ammunition. They were outnum-
bered by thousands. Savages shut them in on every
side. Escape was impossible. Death was near.
Hats off, the bronzed, bearded men of the English
blood which flows in the veins of all men of English
speech, stood up and sung.

" With what song did these men about to die salute
the future ? Was it 'God Save the Queen,' or was it
some last hymn of worship or doxology such as comes
to mcii when death is close and the end not far ?
Whatever the song, the heart swells at this little band,
dropping and falling one by one, rising and, 'hats off,'
joining in one last burst of loyalty, love or faith."

Canada^ My Land^ My Love*

"The name Canada goes back. to within half a cen-
tury of the discovery of! the continent by Colombo.
We find it first used in Cartier's account of his voyage
given by Ramusio, 1556. It was used for a century
and a half before we find any allusion to its meaning,

i , i

1:1

312 NOTES.

and this no doubt accounts for the difference of
opinion on the subject." — George Bryce, M.A., LL.D.
t" 'Kannata/ which is pronounced * Cannada,' and
signifies a collection of dwellings-" — Father Charle-
voix.

" Doubtless signified, in the native tongue, clusters
of cabins or villages." — F. X. Garneau.
I J" The Spaniards were the first who discovered

I Canada ; but, at their first arriving, having found

nothing considerable in it, they abandoned the coun-
try and called it * II capo di nada,' i. e., Cape of
Nothing." — Father Hennepin.
;/;; " An ancient tradition goes that the Castilians * *

t ' I,
*' f wheti they perceived no appearance of mines, pro-

nounced the two words, * Aca nada' — nothing here." —
Charlevoix.

" It is evident no reliancd can be placed on this as
the origin of the name Canada." — Bryce.

§" Canada continued the sole name of the country,
discovered by the French on the banks of the St.
Lawrence, until 1609, in which year the Canadian ex-
plorer, Champlain, having given at Fontainebleau,
before the French King, Henry IV., an account of the
country, it (received the name * La Nouvelle France.'"
— Bryce — Garneau.

II" September 18, 1759, Quebec capitulated. Before
night, floated from the walls of this American Gibral-
tar sthe broad banner of England, where it has ever
since remained untouched by an enemy's hand." —
J. A. Boyd, M.A.

*"It was on Dominion Day, July ist, 1867, that the
Royal proclamation, dated on the 22nd May preceding
at Windsor Castle, joined the four leading members

NOTES. 313

of the Confederation — Ontario, Quebec, Nova Scotia
and New Brunswick — into a united Canada." — Bryce.
The kind encouragement extended, the detailed
criticism profifered, and the warm welcome given by
the late John Talon-Lesperance, the " Laclede" of the
' Gazette" and editor of the *' Dominion Illustrated,"
to the writer — a stranger to him — in connection with
this and other early efforts, is gratefully remembered.

''Sic Transit Gloria Mundi.''

At a session of " The Society for Historical Studies"
held in Montreal, April ist, 1890, the chairman an-
nounced, on the authority of the " Herald's College,"
that the Beaver and the Maple-wreath had no part in
the armorial bearings of Canada, and that their posi-
tion as commonly depicted in the so-called " Dominion
Coat of Arms" was unwarranted.

This poem was used, subsequent to its appearing
in "The Week," by Horace T. Martin, F.Z.S., in his
book, " The History and Traditions of the Canadian
Beaver," section, " The Beaver in Heraldry."

SONNETS, VILLANELLES AND RONDEAUX

She Lookcth Forth as the Morning:.

A close scrutiny of this sonnet may disclose a more
special application than appears in it merely as a
glimpse of "The Eternal Feminine which leads us
upward and on."

Vengeance is Mine.
It is the work of statesmanship to devise some better
way of protecting society, dealing even-handed justice
21

314

NOTES.

to the family of his victim, his own, and the criminal
himself, than killing him off-hand.

Our Birthfig^ht,

Since appearing in the " Dominion Illustrated,"
this sonnet was used by Charles H. Crandall, in his
work, " Representative Sonnets." Judging from re-
quests that have reached the author for autograph
copies, it has travelled and made friends.

To the End.

Written at the time of Sir John Thomson's sudden
call.

REBEL OR PATRIOT.

Reprinted! from the "Young Canadian," by kind
permission of the editor.

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLES.

Spoilers All.

An attempt is here made to voice the harsh, staccato
screech of the Kingfisher, and the wild, mocking
laugh of the Loon which assail the" ears of the Angler
trespassing on their preserves.

"Gather Round all ye Good Men and True.''

Written for the Jubilee of the Montreal Snow-Shoe
Club in February, 1890, sung at a concert given on
the occasion and at club re-unions since-

i-tta^

*"" w

NOTES. 315

High. School Songf*

In October, '92, the " Witness" published a "Song"
in praise of another city school with the remark :
" Now it is the High School's turn. Don't come all
at once. We want just one good one." This was
written, sent, and printed accordingly.

In memory of the pulling down of the old stone house,
on Mountain Street, referred to in this column, some
weeks ago, and now covered by the track of the Cana-
dian Pacific Railway, coming into Windsor Street
Station, Mr. Samuel M. Baylis, of Montreal, in whose
family the ancient relic was once lodged, writes a
few appropriate verses, which will be found in another
column of this issue. — " Laclede," in Montreal " Ga-
zette," June 9, '88.

At Duty's Post.

Lines written on the death of Sir John A. Mac-
donald.

Lake St. Louis July 8th, J 893.

At a Regatta held on this date, Mr. C. H. Levin,
Commodore of the Royal St. Lawrence Yacht Club,
alone of all, was drowned by the upsetting of his
yacht in a violent storm v.hich suddenly fell upon and
endangered the whole fleet of boats and imperilled the
lives of their crews. The heroism displayed by ihe
rescuers of the survivors was the praise of all lips.

Homoeopathic.

"Wanted: small mirror for Nurses' room." — "Ho-
moeopathic Record."

316

NOTES.

;

I ^'

Santa Qaus' Narrow Escape*

Grandma's Christmas Tree*

Singf a Sotifr of Christmas*

These jingles were prepared for cliildren's recita-
tions at a Christmas party and are only included at
the sug-gestion of some of their elders who thought
them worthy of a place.

CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS*

Reprinted by permission from the Christmas num-
ber of the " Dominion Illustrated" for 1892.

The verse selections are all from the works of
Canadian writers ; most of the poems quoted from
or mentioned may be found in Mr. W. D. Ughthall's
admirable collection of " The Songs of the Great
Dominion," to which acknowledgment is due.

Mljlflii

Y^**— «o»— i^-A. tc s fcs ro , fg^

INDEX

-^i^

FRONTISPIECE.
PREFACE.

<-v^

Contents

__^''-j

TENT, ROD AND PEN: ^

Trout Lines

The Ensnaring Dimples of Fontinalis • - - • i6

At Home with the Grey Lady ^q

In Jewelled Gown She Silvery Lures • - • - 47

The Enchanting Hills of Mystery and Desire • - - 58

High Days and Holidays • - • - • - 72

How to make a Fly-Rod oq

ANNEXED: A Tale of MacniderBy-the-Sea- - - - loi

BALLADS AND POEMS: ,25

How we Won the Trophy ,27

Love's Undoing j^

The Hero of Montreal ,^5

In Matabele Land ,^2

The Bell of Justice , . .

ill

INDEX.

BALLADS AND POEMS (ContifiueJ)— rAoa.

The Fur King 147

Siren of the Woods and Waters I49

The Viking 151

Apotheosis of Passion 153

Lament of New France 155

The Coureur-de-Bois 158

Birth of the Snow-Shoe 160

Aspirations 163

Canada — My Land, My Love 168

'• Sic Transit Gloria Mundi " 171

A COWARD : A Tale of the Town 175

SONNETS, VTLLANELLES AND RONDEAUX : • - 187

Sonnets — '89

She Looked Forth as the Morning 189

Alone 190

Vengeance Is Mine 19*

Quebec - 192

As Cynosure Undimmed 193

Our Birthright 194

The Giant 19S

Montreal 196

Inspiration 197

Through Canvas Doors I9g

'Mid Lofty Peaks 199

On Conquest Bent 200

The Awakening 201

To The End - -202

Villanelles— 203

The Villanelle 203

By Leafy Ways 204

I. M. B. 20$

With Rod and Line 206

INDEX.

I'AUI.

Rondcaux — 207

The Enchantress 207

Nicotina 208

Bitter-Sweet j^g

REBEL OR PATRIOT i A Story of '37 . . . 209

RHYMES, VERSES AND JINGLESi 247

"The Music of the Reel" 249

Unattained 2C|

A Plea 252

Trilogy 254

Spoilers All 2ce

As Sold by All Dealers ....,, j.-

Laurentia 2c8

" Gather Round all ye Good Men and True " • - -261

Tally-Ho! 262

High School Song 261

Song of Life's Seasons .-•-... 26?

'813 267

At Duty's Post 269

A Pastoral 270

Lake St. Louis 271

Homoeopathic 272

Owing to the Moon being Full 272

Santa Glaus' Narrow Escape 27^

Grandma's Christmas Tree - . . . . .27?

Sing a Song of Christmas 276

CANADIAN OUT-DOOR WINTER SPORTS - - 277
NOTES 307

^^"^