UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 ERRATA 
 
 Page 14, line 21, for the, read they. 
 
 " 21, " 25, " magnus, read magnum. 
 " 38, " 31, insert the before Mohicans. 
 
 40, ' 
 
 ' 14, 
 
 for Seagrant, 
 
 read Sergean 
 
 43, ' 
 
 ' 18, 
 
 " cripsy, 
 
 " crispy. 
 
 69, ' 
 
 ' 18, 
 
 " thee, 
 
 " these. 
 
 78, ' 
 
 ' 10, 
 
 " shadle, 
 
 " shade. 
 
 86, ' 
 
 ' 21, 
 
 " braze, 
 
 " brave. 
 
 97, ' 
 
 ' 5, 
 
 " smiced, 
 
 " smiled. 
 
 119, ' 
 
 ' 14, 
 
 " cordit, 
 
 " cordite. 
 
 132, ' 
 
 ' 6, 
 
 " chts, 
 
 " cuts. 
 
 156, ' 
 
 ' 6, 
 
 " shewed, 
 
 " shrewd.
 
 WORKS BY G. M. FAIRCHILD, JR. 
 
 CANADIAN LEAVES New York, 1887. 
 
 ORITANI SOUVENIR New York, 1888. 
 
 NOTES ON Two MANUSCRIPTS New York, 1887. 
 
 A WINTER CARNIVAL Quebec, 1894. 
 
 ROD AND CANOE ; RIFLE AND SNOWSHOE Quebec, 1896. 
 
 A RIDICULOUS COURTING STORIES OF FRENCH CANADA 
 Chicago, 1900. 
 
 PRINCE OTTO Quebec, 1898. 
 
 QUEBEC, THE SPORTSMAN'S LAND OF PLENTY Quebee, 1899. 
 
 FROM MY QUEBEC SCRAP-BOOK Quebec, 1907. 
 
 GLEANING FROM QUEBEC Quebec, 1908. 
 
 WHERE TO GO How TO GO AND WHAT TO SEE IN QUEBEC 
 Quebec, 1908.
 
 PRESS NOTICES OF Mr. FAIRCHILD'S WORKS 
 
 Montreal Gazette. Mr. G. M. Fairchild, Jr., the well known 
 has collected a number of his contributions to the press 
 >. and Canada into an illustrated volume. It is in some 
 respects the moat instructive and entertaining of his books. 
 
 Quebec Daily Telegraph. Variety is spicy and Mr. Fairchild's 
 new work exemplifies the saying for the menu that the author 
 offers his readers is as wide in range as only the limitations of a 
 portly volume makes It is valuable as contributing to our 
 knowledge of many things within the life of the city of Quebec 
 and the Province. 
 
 Quebec Chronicle. Whenever Mr. Faircdiid writes his subject 
 matter and its treatment is sufficiently good to make it worthy 
 of a setting. 
 
 Le Soleil, Quebec. When Faucher de St-Maurice wrote from 
 'i ark 30 years ago and said : Mr. Fairchild is a distinguished 
 representative of Canada, he voiced the opinion of both the 
 French and English Canadians of his native province, Quebec. 
 
 Canadian Home Journal. G. M. Fairchild, Jr., has been called 
 the Isaak Walton of Canada. He possesses all the quaint and 
 delicate humor of the Father of Angling. His books and sketches 
 are read by people of refinement all over the United States and 
 Canada. 
 
 Canadian Magazine. G. M. Fairchild, Jr., of Quebec, will 
 ahortly publish a volume of short stories. This gentleman has 
 long been known to the world of Canadian letters, having written 
 a volume on sport in Quebec and a number of other books. 
 One of his tone* appeared in the August number of this publica- 
 tion. 
 
 Field and Stream. Several of Mr. Fairchild's excellent stories 
 have appeared in Field and Stream, and he will contribute 
 another to the May number.
 
 . 
 
 BREAKING FLAX.
 
 GLEANINGS 
 FROM QUEBEC 
 
 By 
 
 G. M. FAIRCHILD, Jr. 
 
 Author of 
 
 Rod and Canoe, A Ridiculous Courting, A Winter Carnival, 
 Prince Otto, From My Quebec Scrap Book, etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 QUEBEC 
 
 PUBLISHED BY FRANK CARREL 
 1908 
 
 /7rw>
 
 REGISTERED by G. M. Fairchild. Jr. in the 
 office of the Minister of Agriculrure, in conformity 
 with the law paued by the Parliraent of Canada in 
 the year 1906.
 
 F 
 
 1052 
 
 Fl 
 
 PREFATORY NOTE 
 
 Two editions of FROM MY QUEBEC SCEAP BOOK 
 were subscribed for in 1907 and printed. A third 
 was called for, but a disastrous fire in the printing 
 establishment of the publisher made this an im- 
 possibility It was then that my publisher made 
 the suggestion that I should gather together mater- 
 ial enough for a volume somewhat upon the lines 
 of that of 1907 to be issued the Tercentenary year 
 of 1908, and he ventured to think it would meet 
 with success. At all events he was willing to risk 
 it if I would undertake the work. I finally consented 
 but somewhat doubtful of the issue of the venture. 
 He now informs me that he was fully justified in his 
 conclusions, and that the present volume has been 
 very largely subscribed for, and a considerable sale 
 guaranteed by the book-dealers. 
 
 The book is a medley of trifles and can be taken 
 in small doses. Something of its success is perhaps 
 attributable to this feature.
 
 ZTo 
 
 Sir 3amc0 flDcpberson Xe flDoine 
 
 Ube Tbistortan of It) (Quebec 
 
 anl> 
 
 Ube Cbronicler of IRew (Quebec 
 
 "Cdbose worfts bave been a source ot fnspfra* 
 
 tfon to otber writers anD of interest to tbe 
 
 general reaber, tbis book is cor&iallg 
 
 inscribes bg tbe autbor 
 
 (5. /ID. ffaircbilo, 3r. 
 
 Quebec, flDaie, 1908
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 HANDICRAFTS IN QUEBEC 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A POWDER HORN 
 
 ON THE RIVER JACQUES CARTIER -- 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A PUNCH LADLE.... 
 FROM OUT OF A BLIZZARD, PART I .. 
 
 FROM our OF A BLIZZARD, PART II 
 
 AUTUMN GLEANING ABOUT QUEBEC.... 
 
 ST. MAURICE RIVER WITH ROD AND CANOE. 
 
 CORNELIUS KRIEGHOFF 
 
 66 
 
 WITH CHRISTOPHER NORTH IN His SHOOTING JACKET-- 
 CANOODLING VERSUS CANOEING 
 
 TREASURES TROVE, PART I 
 
 TREASURES TROVE, PART II 
 
 VISIT TO THE QUEBEC'S ARSENAL 
 
 ICE BREAKERS ON THE ST-LAWRENCE 
 
 MOXTMORENCI 
 
 125 
 
 QUEBEC'S GREATEST INDUSTRY 1: 
 
 SEASIDE SAUNTERINGS 13 ^ 
 
 A CHRISTMAS STORY * 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO TRAINED NURSES 
 
 THE COMING QUEBEC 
 
 THE WEAVING OF YARNS 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A GRAND FATHER CLOCK 
 
 PRINCE DOLLAR, PART I 
 
 PRINCE DOLLAR, PART II 
 
 PRINCE DOLLAR, PART III ----- 
 
 RHYMES AND JINGLES 192
 
 HANDICRAFTS IN QUEBEC 
 
 N old Quebec and vicinity it has not been 
 necessary to establish Guilds or Societies 
 for the revival and encouragement of 
 handicrafts. Since the coming of the 
 first French settlers, over two hundred 
 and fifty years ago, handicrafts have 
 continued to flourish down to the pre- 
 sent day, as part of the economy of the life of the 
 people. It is only within the past four or five years 
 that the large commercial side of hand products has 
 intruded itself upon the workers in Quebec, who have 
 always followed their calling in the old time spirit 
 of good workmanship, and original design. Many 
 of our clever craftsmen are the sons and grandsons 
 of men who followed the same craft and they have 
 the pride of this ancestral calling. Quebec is conser- 
 vative and slow to change. In the Norman French 
 blood there is an antipathy to innovations, and the 
 momentary fads that so afflict our neighbors across 
 the border have no place in the simple life of the great 
 masses of the French-Canadian population. It is 
 true he no longer wears the etoffe du pays as his father 
 did, but this is not entirely his fault, but his misfor- 
 tune, the supply would no longer go 'round, since
 
 sheep growing became unprofitable. The beef moc- 
 casin, however, is yet very much in evidence, and I 
 still continue to see the bonnet rouge, or bleu, in 
 country parts, and also the sabots at stable doors. 
 Not infrequently a pair of black eyes peep at me as, 
 I pass, from under the broad-brimmed straw hat that 
 has been plaited and made by the wearer. Almost 
 every household in our country districts has its straw 
 plaiter and hat maker, and the surplus product finds 
 a corner in the bonne-femme's market cart on Sat- 
 urdays in early summer days when she jogs into 
 town to take her place in the long row at the open 
 market where she disposes of her stock in trade. 
 What a curious stock it oft' times is of handicraft 
 from the self contained household of the good wo- 
 man. If we do not want a straw hat, perhaps we 
 are looking for some catalogue (home-made rag carpet) 
 and she unrolls a few yards of it for our inspection. 
 It is gorgeous of color, almost Indian in its barbaric 
 colors of cross stripes, but with a beauty of its own 
 that we are now not slow to recognize for decorative 
 purposes, such as portieres, window hangings and 
 lounge coverings, or for floor rugs. The loom on 
 which it is made has had honored place in the old 
 stone house for at least two centuries. It is a hand- 
 made affair of roughly hewn wood and the shuttle 
 is thrown by hand, while a foot lever alternates the 
 warp thread. The work of the loom always pertains 
 to the women. The cutting of the rags and the 
 sewing of the strips together, is the labor of the child- 
 ren, in the long winter evenings. But materials other
 
 than catalogne is woven on these hand looms. There 
 is a coarse linen, intended for dresses and aprons 
 for the women and children and clothing for the men 
 and boys. Every farmer grows some flax, and the 
 swingeling of, or the soaking and beating of it into 
 fibrous matter fit for the spinning wheel, is, in some 
 parishes, made the occasion for a day or two of gen- 
 eral outdoor jollification beside some brook where 
 the flat stalks have been soaking, and where there 
 are some large flat rocks on which to beat the stalks. 
 Large fires are made and when evening draws on the 
 husbands and swains appear and much merriment 
 follows. The spinning wheel used for the flax varies 
 somewhat from that used for the wool. The home- 
 made bed and table linen will outwear any other 
 fabric in the world, but I must decline to recommend 
 the bed-linen for use among my friends, unless they 
 wish to mortify the flesh. The dot of a daughter of 
 the house is largely made up of these home products 
 and accumulated for years. Upon the hand looms 
 and from the wool yarns spun on the old spinning 
 wheel flannels and cloths of a superior texture are 
 woven. The flannels are sometimes dyed in delicate 
 tints with vegetable dyes, and cut into lengths for 
 curtains, table covers and bed-spreads. These are 
 then fringed and tufted designs worked through 
 them in contrasting yarns with the tufting hook. In 
 several of the convents in Quebec, the nuns produce 
 considerable quantities of these various fabrics, and 
 in addition, laces, embroideries and fringes, that are 
 extremely beautiful and find ready sale. The con-
 
 4 
 
 vents most noted for their handicrafts are the Good 
 Shepheids, Sacred Heart and the General Hospital. 
 
 Among the men in the country, a great many in- 
 dustries in handicraft are carried on during the win- 
 ter months after they have finished cutting and 
 hauling the firewood for the following year's con- 
 sumption. In their w< rkshops considerable inge- 
 nuity is often shown by the farmers in the manu- 
 facture of various articles, from our native woods, 
 such as the splint baskets from the white ash, that 
 are commonly sold in the Quebec market places, 
 the wooden horses carved from the spruce or boolo, 
 that the small boys so dearly love, chairs made from 
 birch and rush or thong bottomed. Many of the 
 men are excellent cabinet makers, and their corner 
 cupboaids and four-poster bedsteads are in consider- 
 able vogue. I know several very clever craftsmen 
 in the parish of Ancienne Lorette whose cabinet work 
 would do credit to Herter. The workers in iron are 
 not so numerous as formerly. The cheaper machine 
 cast iron products have affected the wrought iron 
 workers, yet there are men to-day whom I know, if 
 given the job, could turn out as clever a wrought 
 iron gate as did their ancestors. The forgeron con- 
 tinues to ply his vocation, but much of the work he 
 does is in the nature of small job-repairing, and he 
 sighs when he recalls the old days. 
 
 When we come into the city of Quebec and pursue 
 our researches, we find in the suburbs and in the St. 
 Roch and St. Sauveur districts, numbers of individual 
 handicraftsmen carrying on their work in small shops
 
 in the rear of their dwelling lot or in a front room of 
 the house. Some of them brass and metal workers, 
 here and there a silversmith. I know one family 
 that has followed the latter trade for three genera- 
 tions, and always in the same little shop. They 
 have turned out very delightful examples of candle- 
 sticks, porringers, tea-sets and other product of their 
 craft, " but," said the pleasant proprietor to me, 
 " we have melted down more beautiful things than 
 we ever created." 
 
 " And how was that ? " I enquired. 
 " Oh ! " he replied, " long ago solid silver was 
 more common than now, and when people got hard 
 up, they brought their silver-ware to us to pound up 
 and smelt into bullion. Bah ! it used to make my 
 old father groan to see some beautiful piece go into 
 the crucible. He said it gave him a heart wrench." 
 The cabinet makers are, many of them, clever 
 copyists, and it would puzzle an expert to decide 
 upon one of their Chippendale's or a Louis the XIV 
 chair. Some of these men do some exceedingly ori- 
 ginal and clever work in ceiling and wall wood work. 
 One of the very best of this class of craftsmen can 
 neither read nor write, but somehow works out his 
 complicated parts by a sort of rule of thumb. 
 
 Wood sculpture ought almost to be classed among 
 the arts, as it has been followed by such men as Jobin 
 and a few others. When we cut down the big pine 
 on the hillside overlooking the village of Cap Rouge 
 and overlooking the church, the good cure of the 
 Parish said, " why not get Jobin to carve us a statue
 
 6 
 
 of the Sacred Heart, out of the butt log of this tree, 
 and we will erect it on the stump, and it will be a joy 
 to the villagers and an ornament to the Parish." 
 Accordingly Jobin was commissioned for a life-sized 
 statue of Christ with the Sacred Heart. It is one of 
 the most dignified statues I have ever seen, and ad- 
 mired by every artist who has visited the parish. 
 
 The hand-work book-binders of Quebec enjoy in- 
 ternational reputation for their beautiful designs 
 and hand tooling. Work, fine work, comes to them 
 from all quarters. Their little shops in some of the 
 back-streets sometimes contain priceless books, that 
 have been entrusted to them to re-bind in their beau- 
 tiful creations. The Lemieux's and the Lafrances 
 are among the foremost of this guild. At every ex- 
 hibition of bookbindings, they have carried away 
 the medal for excellence. 
 
 The French-Canadian is naturally a handy man, 
 and handicraft is his by birth and temperament, and 
 his environment in Quebec fits into his life work. 
 
 In our sister city of Montreal a guild has been 
 formed for the encouragement and development of 
 handicraft. It has a Dominion charter, and its work 
 covers all the Provinces. It has held exbihitions 
 and has a shop at 586 St. Catherine St., Montreal, 
 for the sale of such wares. It has been, and is, a 
 decided success.
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A POWDER HORN 
 
 HE metal powder flask and the percussion 
 cap were ushered into use about the 
 same time, and with their coming the 
 old powder horn rapidly disappeared 
 and is rarely to be found now unless in 
 the possession of some enthusiastic col- 
 lector or in some unrummaged garret for forgotten 
 things. I confess a weakness for old garret explo- 
 ration, and when the good wife of the house has no 
 objection I make haste to profit by the occasion, for 
 I love the hour spent amid the cobwebs and dust and 
 the discards of the house for a century or more. I 
 draw the veil of silence over the antiquated crinolines 
 and bustles certain to be discovered, for with such 
 things we men have no concern though history does 
 record one instance where a well known prince escaped 
 his pursuers by taking refuge beneath the ample folds 
 of a young lady's crinoline while its owner discoursed 
 sweet strains on the spinnet until the pursuers had 
 departed from the house. 
 
 In my garret researches I have discovered many 
 curious things, ancient family portraits, valuable 
 family portraits, rare old prints, ugly but priceless 
 china, Elziveers, delightful old cabinets, flint lock
 
 8 
 
 pistols, bell mouth blunderbusses and sometimes 
 a powder horn. All powder horns are interesting 
 to me, but when I find one that carries engraved 
 upon it some expression of its original owner, pro- 
 bably maker, I feel that I have not lived in vain. 
 Some of these old horns show all the signs of loving 
 care and rare skill in their adornment. Beside the 
 winter camp fire or the family fireside their owners 
 with knife and finely pointed chisel, displayed his 
 learning or artistic accomplishment in his carving. 
 If the owner was of a religious turn of mind some 
 appropriate verse from scripture is applied, then fol- 
 lows his name in bold lettering, and his place of re- 
 sidence. The chrome yellow horns were the most 
 in vogue by the skilful engraver, for once his carving 
 was made and some wet powder- rubbed into it, the 
 engraving stood out in bold relief. Slung over one 
 shoulder, his leather bullet and wad pouch over the 
 other, the long flint lock rifle carried at attention for 
 game, a jaunty squirrel skin cap perched upon his 
 head, our pioneer of the chase or of Indian warfare 
 presented a most picturesque, not to say formidable 
 appearance. 
 
 The powder horn of the superior officer or gentleman 
 in these early days of frontier life, when every man 
 went armed with rifle, was often a most elaborately 
 engraved affair and with brass or silver mountings. 
 I have in my collection one of the very finest speci- 
 mens of these horns with a most interesting history 
 attached to it. Wandering one day through one of 
 our little Canadian villages I came to an unusually
 
 THE SPINNER.
 
 g 
 
 neat little cottage, just inside the door of which a 
 very elderly woman in kerchief and white cap sat 
 spinning wool yarn at an old fashioned spinning 
 wheel. I stopped to address her some words of greet- 
 ing, and to express my pleasure that old time cus- 
 toms were not yet altogether abandoned in our pro- 
 vince of Quebec. She was a cheery old body, and 
 after some further talk she invited me into the house. 
 Like many such houses throughout our rural districts, 
 its simplicity was as striking as was its extreme 
 cleanliness. There was the usual highly polished 
 three decker iron stove standing in a wall partition 
 between the large living room and the tiny parlor. 
 Aside from the stove the living room contained a 
 quaintly diamond paned corner sideboard or closet 
 that contained the entire family crockery and glass. 
 A deal table, scoured to whiteness, stood against the 
 wall, and a half dozen of home-made chairs, the bot- 
 toms laced with caribou thongs, were distributed 
 about. One was a rocker, no doubt for the use of 
 the old lady. On the walls hung some religious prints, 
 an old gun and some broken harness. I was asked 
 into the parlor which was carpeted in home-made 
 catalogne, more gorgeous prints upon the walls in- 
 terspersed with family photographs in cheap frames 
 and several mortuary wreaths in panelled recesses 
 of deceased relatives. The old lady brought forth 
 some choke-cherry cordial of her own manufacture, 
 and we drank each other's good health in several 
 bumpers. 
 Then came the real business.
 
 10 
 
 " Have you a garret ? " 
 
 " Certain M'sieu, but it is only for old rubbish. " 
 
 " Well, Madame, I am a gleaner of old rubbish ; 
 would you mind my going into the garret ? " 
 
 " Not at all M'sieu, but you will find it all cobwebs 
 and not much else." 
 
 " I will see," said I, as I took a candle and climbed 
 the ladder. 
 
 It certainly seemed a most unpromising collection 
 of oddments, but in poking my candle about I saw 
 hanging to a beam a powder horn, and a hasty ex- 
 amination showed it to be a rare beauty. I des- 
 cended with it at once. 
 
 " Madame," said I, " What do you know of this 
 horn, and where did you get it ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " she replied, " it is a long story of war and 
 bloodshed, and it is not fit to repeat now that we are 
 all friends and no longer kill each other." 
 
 " I agree with you madame, but I who also gather 
 strange stories am all curiosity to hear yours about 
 this horn." 
 
 Thus urged, the old dame settled herself into the 
 little rocker and gently swaying herself she told me 
 the following story : 
 
 "A long time ago, bon dieu! a very long time ago, 
 for I was then a little girl of ten, and I am now eighty- 
 two, I was sent to live with my grandfather near 
 Montreal. He was then an old, old man, but he had 
 seen much of life in his youth for he was then wild 
 and adventurous with fighting blood in his veins. 
 On the wall of his log house hung this powder horn.
 
 11 
 
 Some times I would take it down to look at the pretty 
 pictures on it, but whenever I would ask him any- 
 thing about it he would say, ' bah ! little girls should 
 not ask foolish questions/ then he would light his 
 pipe and go out of the house." 
 
 " One day two English officers came. I remember 
 them well for they were in their uniforms of red and 
 gold, and they searched the house, as they said for a 
 run-away soldier, but my grandfather only laughed 
 at them and told them to keep looking and go fur- 
 ther. They cursed him for a Canadian and finally 
 departed, but not before one of them had tried to pos- 
 sess himself of this horn, and my grandfather and he 
 had words about it that are not pleasant to repeat." 
 
 "That night my grandfather took the horn from 
 the wall to put it away, as he said, but before doing 
 so he took me upon his knee to tell me its story which 
 I was all curiosity to hear. As nearly as I can re- 
 member, it was like this, I use my grandfather's 
 words :" 
 
 " ' My father, ma petite, was a brave French soldier 
 and came to Quebec with his regiment. He took 
 his discharge, and then took a wife and came to settle 
 on this farm. The old fighting blood, however, was 
 strong upon him, and whenever a party was made 
 up to go down into the English settlements my father 
 was pretty sure to be among them. When I grew 
 old enough he promised me he would take me, and I 
 was all anxiety to kill some of those hateful English 
 of whom I had heard so much. Before I was eight- 
 een I had learned as much, as an Indian, and I could
 
 12 
 
 shoot straight and true. One day Vachon came to 
 our cabin to say that a party of our people and some 
 Indians were to start on an expeditin and he asked 
 my father to join it. All right, said my father, and 
 I'll take Jacques with me.' ' 
 
 " ' We had Indians with us, and for days we travelled 
 by canoe, and through the bush until we came to a 
 settlement near Deerfield. Somehow our coming be- 
 came known to our enemies and one morning we 
 were surprised by them, and the fight was on. My 
 father told me to keep close to him, but it soon be- 
 came a running fight and we got separated. I loaded 
 and fired as a chance offered, but kept retreating 
 from tree to rock or hillside as it happened. I saw 
 my father pursued by an officer and bayonetted to 
 death. I took a rest and a steady aim and shot his 
 slayer dead. He was a handsome man of not more 
 than 25. I rushed up to him to give him the finish- 
 ing knife but he was quite dead. I had only time 
 to cut the cord of his powder horn and carry it away 
 with me when we were again under full retreat. We 
 got back to Montreal but we had lost half our party 
 and there was much sorrowing in many of our fami- 
 lies. I have avenged my father's death, but some- 
 times I think of that handsome young officer when 
 I look at the horn.' ' 
 
 " And," said the old dame, as she concluded her 
 story, " when I came away the grandfather gave me 
 the horn and said : ' Some day Amelie you may come 
 across some one belonging to this Englishman, for 
 you will come to live among themas you grow older."
 
 13 
 
 Mais M'sieu I have never found anyone and so I put 
 it in the garret." 
 
 " Madame," said I, " let me purchase it, and I will 
 write and publish its history, and who knows but 
 someone may claim it." 
 
 " We are poor," replied the old lady, " and per- 
 haps you may find the Englishman's friends." 
 
 And so I became possessed of this beautiful horn. 
 It is unique as the engraved map of the country is 
 carried as far as Lake Ontario New York City of 
 that period, about 1745, is fully shown then there 
 is the English coat of arms, a British soldier in full 
 uniform, a ship under sail, the Hudson River, Lake 
 St. Sacrement (Lake George), Lake Champlain all 
 the towns and block houses. The bottom is of brass 
 with crest and coat of arms and the monogram of the 
 owner. Who was he ?
 
 ON THE RIVER JACQUES CARTIER 
 
 N the roll of Fame the Jacques Cartier 
 River occupies an honored place for its 
 glories of salmon and trout, and for its 
 wild picturesqueness from its mouth 
 to the beautiful lake that is its source. 
 It is so recorded in the many books by 
 men illustrious in the world of letters and great 
 among the angling fraternity. Angling has been the 
 recreation of the literary man since the days of Isaac 
 Walton, and perforce he must tell his yarn to the 
 world of his exploits with rod and reel. Thus it has 
 come to pass that his doings on this river are on 
 many pages. First among the craft to record his 
 love of the Jacques Cartier was one Fredk. Tolfrey, 
 an officer in His Majesty's service who landed in 
 Quebec in 1816 and within a week, under the guid- 
 ance of a well-known Major, he set out for the 
 angler's paradise in those days, Dery's Bridge, now 
 now called Pont Rouge. Some portions of his ad- 
 ventures are worth recording here, since the two 
 volumes in which the first appeared are now among 
 the rareties of Canadians. In the first place it is 
 dedicated to his friends and companions of the long 
 ago on the Jacques Cartier River, or the Chateau
 
 RIVER JACQUES CARTIER
 
 15 
 
 Richer marshes. Its title is " The Sportsman in 
 Canada." It was written and published 30 years 
 after the occurrences recorded, no doubt from a jour- 
 nal kept at the time. It is replete with Quebec local 
 doings of the period and the picture of the life of the 
 day in the old metropolis is fascinating, but it is 
 when he describes his adventures on river or marsh 
 that he is at his best : 
 
 " There is a solemn grandeur, a sublimity in Can- 
 adian and North American scenery not to be met 
 with in any other quarter of the globe ; and of all 
 the spots I have ever seen in the world, the Jacques 
 Carder River is beyond compare the most enchanting." 
 
 Our author having thus expressed his opinion of 
 the scenic charm of the river, goes on with an account 
 of his own and his companions, adventures after the 
 salmon : 
 
 " We followed the Major (Browne) down the stream 
 through brake and briar until we reached a fine 
 broad sheet of still water where our leader called a 
 halt. ' Get out your flies, boys ! Here's the hospital 
 (pool) and good luck to us.' Cautiously and trem- 
 blingly did I make my first essay. That'll do it ! 
 that's a fine cast! by the Powers, that's well thrown 
 for a youngster ! ' and twenty similar commenda- 
 tions were bestowed on my endeavors." 
 
 " At last never shall I forget that moment in 
 a sweeping eddy, almost under a rock, I had a splen- 
 did rise hooked my fish, and away he went at 
 railroad speed. We had a regular battle for it, but 
 I had an old hand at my elbow to check my impa-
 
 16 
 
 tience, and owing to his masterly directions I suc- 
 ceeded in killing my fish which he landed for me. It 
 weighed nearly ten pounds, and, as may be imagined 
 I was not a little elated at my success." Major 
 Browne. Capt. Griffiths and Mr. Hamilton also got 
 their fish, the capture of which is graphically de- 
 scribed. 
 
 The day's work over, they all betake them- 
 selves to the widow's where a well-served dinner was 
 partaken of. Later in the evening the young French 
 people of the neighborhood gather in and the Major 
 taking his fiddle out of its case planted himself on a 
 table in the kitchen and struck up " Huist the Cat," 
 and the ball was on. Our author adds " If the ladies 
 danced with more agility than grace there was no 
 lack of good humor ; perfect decorum and good order 
 were observed and I retired to rest not a little pleased 
 with my first day's sport on the Jacques Cartier." 
 
 After Tolfrey, came Dr. Henry who embarked 
 with his regiment for Quebec, in June, 1827. This 
 regiment the 66th had been stationed on the Island 
 of St. Helena as a guard over Napoleon and remained 
 there until his death. Dr. Henry was in frequent 
 attendance upon the dethroned and then dying ex- 
 Emperor. The Dr. was a man of considerable parts 
 in his profession, and a writer of no mean ability. 
 His book, "Trifles from My Portfolio," was published 
 in Quebec in 1839 by William Neilson, his angling 
 companion of many an adventure on the Jacques 
 Cartier where the latter then made his summer home, 
 at Valcartier, and was noted as one of the keenest
 
 17 
 
 anglers in Quebec. Mr. Neilson lived to an extreme 
 old age, but even to the last and when almost blind, 
 his greatest delight was to be taken upon the river 
 for a cast into the rapids for a big trout. He was 
 a son of the Hon. John Neilson and when the latter 
 withdrew his name as publisher of the Quebec Ga- 
 zette he transferred it to his son William. It was 
 under his tutelage that I became an angler and an 
 ardent lover of our Canadian rivers. 
 
 The second volume of Dr. Henry's book is almost 
 given over to an account of the stirring scenes of that 
 period in Lower Canada preceding the rebellion and 
 to various sporting adventures. This work is now 
 among the rareties. We are the proud possessor 
 of Wm. Neilson's own copy with his autograph in it. 
 And now for some brief extracts from the accounts 
 of Dr. Henry's first visit to the Jacques Cartier in the 
 year 1829. 
 
 " A good deal of rain having fallen lately we judged 
 the time favorable for a trip to Dery's Bridge, a cele- 
 brated fishing ground on the Jacques Cartier River. 
 Accordingly, early on a beautiful morning, the 5th 
 of August, my friend and I set off from Quebec for 
 that pretty spot ; distant nine leagues up the left 
 bank of the St. Lawrence. The River takes its name 
 from the great French navigator who once wintered 
 at its mouth. 
 
 . Dery's Bridge is six miles from the St. Lawrence 
 and the Jacques Cartier continues a most rapid 
 stream all the way. The Canadians have given odd 
 names to different holes, or remoux formed by the
 
 18 
 
 eddies of this powerful stream. Immediately under 
 the brink of Dery's garden is a recess room deep in 
 the rocky bank and generally shaded by the " Troux 
 Noir." This is close to the bridge from whence the 
 fish in it may be distinctly seen a little lower down 
 is the Gaand Rets and at the lower end is a famous 
 fishing pool, called VHdpital. For half a mile below 
 this the fishing is good, the best being immediately 
 above a sloping rock running quite across, where the 
 water makes a chute, or rather runs violently down a 
 long inclined plane, at an angle of about 20 degrees. 
 
 After a good morning's sport we killed three more 
 fish and two or three large trout. Before retiring 
 we solaced ourselves with a cigar or two, seated on 
 the bridge which, from the constant current of air, 
 created by the rapid river, furnished a good position, 
 and commanding a good view up and down this ro- 
 mantic ravine." 
 
 It is eleven years later when our gallant Dr., this 
 time with a wife and young son, returns to his old 
 haunt, but time had wrought its change and while 
 the fishing was good he misses some of the Arcadian 
 simplicity of the long ago, and many old friends 
 were no more. 
 
 We should perhaps have mentioned Colonel Land- 
 mann as having preceded Dr. Henry. The Colonel 
 came to Quebec about 1799 as a youthful subaltern 
 of Engineers. His introductions were good and he 
 is soon set going in the fashionable world of Quebec 
 society, but he is too ambitious professionally and 
 too good a sportsman to devote much time to frivol-
 
 19 
 
 ous amusements. He made frequent excursions 
 about Quebec for strategic points, and examined the 
 old French works at the crossing of the Jacques 
 Cartier, and took a cast for a salmon at the same time. 
 The two volumes of Adventures and Recollections 
 of Col. Landmann were published in 1854, but the 
 period referred to in them was that of his several 
 years sojourn in Quebec, about the date already men- 
 tioned viz : 1799. These two volumes are almost 
 as fascinating reading as those of Tolfrey for pictures 
 of the life and manners of the inhabitants of Quebec 
 of the period. Many of Landmann's adventures are 
 quite thrilling while his anecdotes are never stale, 
 and oftimes very amusing. 
 
 In 1840, the Rev. Dr. Wm. A. Adamson, a pro- 
 minent Church of England clergyman, came to Que- 
 bes as chaplain to Lord Sydenham, Governor-General 
 of Canada. His Reverence was a keen angler and 
 a voluminous writer. He made frequent excursions 
 to the Jacques Cartier both to Pont Rouge for the 
 salmon, or to Valcartier to visit Wm. Neilson and 
 with the latter to fish for the big trout that in those 
 days haunted the upper rapids of the river. The Dr. 
 has been described to us as a most accomplished 
 angler and a most delightful companion. His book, 
 " Salmon Fishing in Canada," which was edited by 
 Col. Sir J. E. Alexander, and published in London, 
 in 1860, proves the Dr. a keen observer, a capital 
 raconteur and an excellent descriptive writer of 
 adventure by field and flood. 
 
 Contemporary with Dr. Adamson came Chas.
 
 20 
 
 Lanman from the United States, a man famed as a 
 traveller in unknown wilds, a sportsman par excel- 
 lence, and a brilliant writer. In the " Adventures 
 of an Angler in Canada" he gives us a delightfully 
 graphic picture of his experiences on the Jacques 
 Cartier. This work was published in London, in 
 1848. Again and again he returns to Canada and 
 Quebec for sport, and in 1854 and 1856 other vol- 
 umes are published. 
 
 Richard Nettle, at one time a school teacher in 
 Quebec, an angler always, and a writer sometimes, 
 was a frequent visitor to the Jacques Cartier, whose 
 favorite lurking places for salmon and trout were 
 almost as well known to him as were those of his 
 dearly beloved stream the St. Charles where he suc- 
 cessfully angled for salmon for years. He was ap- 
 pointed Superintendent of Fisheries for Lower Can- 
 ada, and in 1857 his " Salmon Fisheries of the St. 
 Lawrence and Tributaries " was published. He was 
 the first man in Canada to advocate the artificial 
 propagation of salmon. 
 
 Among the delightful writers on angling and wood 
 life is Chas. Hallock, the one time owner and editor 
 of " Forest and Stream." He is now 77 years of age, 
 but still active with pen and rod. It must be almost 
 fifty years ago since this veteran made his first bow 
 to the Jacques Cartier and revelled in its wild beauty 
 while keenly enjoying the sport it offered. In his 
 " Fishing Tourist " he gives his readers a vivid picture 
 of his impressions and experiences. Many a time 
 has h6 returned to these delightful scenes of youth
 
 A CANADIAN SALMON.
 
 - 91 
 tj\. 
 
 again and again to tell the world of his unchanged 
 devotion. Only this past summer, on a long after- 
 noon, a half dozen of the old time friends of Hallock 
 on lake and river gathered at Spencer Grange at the 
 invitation of Sir James LeMoine to meet the veteran 
 editor, who was making a farewell visit, so he said, 
 and to say good-bye to some old haunts and to a few 
 dear friends. We were all deeply touched at his 
 feeling allusions to the loves he said he would carry 
 with him to the grave. In the " Salmon Angler " 
 Hallock gives us the experience of half a century 
 on the rivers from Ungava Bay to the glacial rivers 
 of Alaska. 
 
 As the sun declined and the shadows deepened 
 on the lawn at the Grange, we all became reminis- 
 cent of days on the Jacques Cartier, our favorite 
 river. From out of the storehouse of memories that 
 far out dated any of us present except John S. Bud- 
 den, Esq., (the Ancient and Honorable) Sir James 
 LeMoine gave us of his wealth of recollections of men, 
 events and occurrences on lower and upper reaches 
 of the river. In many of his Maple Leaf series of 
 books, in " Chasse et Peche," has he given us tales 
 of the river. Among those present, who has also 
 written voluminously of angling, and whose magnus 
 opus, " The Land of the Ouananiche " is one of the 
 monumental works on angling in Quebec province, 
 we refer to E. T. D. Chambers, who also had interesting 
 stories of days and camps on the river among the 
 islands and rough waters, and great mountains above 
 Bayards. Commodore Gregory also told us of many
 
 22 
 
 other strange stories angling of on the Jacques Car- 
 tier and other far away rivers and lakes. In that little 
 volume " En Racontant " the Commodore has em- 
 bodied some of his experiences around the world. 
 Our octogenarian friend, J. S. Budden, was known 
 sixty years ago as the greatest snowshoe runner after 
 caribou. In Notman's celebrated series of photos, 
 "The Moose Hunters," "The Caribou Hunters," 
 which were published 35 years ago, Budden was one 
 of the principal characters. He has besides fished 
 almost every river in the province, while his camp 
 has been pitched many a time on the banks of the 
 Jacques Cartier and we have been his guest, and in 
 turn he has played the part in many of our magazine 
 articles as the "Ancient and Honorable," of many 
 yarns. In our recent work " From My Quebec Scrap 
 Book " the " Ancient and Honorable " plays a con- 
 spicuous part among the three of us who camped, 
 tramped, fished, painted and wrote while camped on 
 one of the most beautiful reaches of the Jacques Car- 
 tier, where the rapids reach down to the groups of 
 islands and the pastoral country begins. 
 
 John Burroughs, the naturalist, poet and philoso- 
 pher, and one of the most entertaining of writers, 
 has told his story of the river and its fishing and of 
 the many curious things he saw with those highly 
 trained eyes of his. It is curious how blind the ma- 
 jority of people are and how surprised they seem 
 when some one points out an interesting thing di- 
 rectly under their noses but which they have never 
 before seen although it has always been there. Henry
 
 23 
 
 Thoreau was another of these keenly minute ob- 
 servers who preceded Burroughs in journeying to 
 the Jacques Cartier on his " Trip to Canada." We 
 had the particulars long years ago from Wm. Neilson, 
 whose guest Thoreau was at Valcartier. Robt. 
 Roosevelt, who wrote " The Game Fishes of the 
 North," Wm. H. Herbert (Frank Forester) the great- 
 est of all writers on American game and sport both 
 enjoyed the hospitality of the river at various times. 
 John Lesperance, the Canadian novelist, laid some 
 of the scenes of one of his stirring romances on the 
 banks of the river at Valcartier, and Sir Gilbert 
 Parker often carries us thither in some stirring tale. 
 Artists have come to paint it for a hundred years or 
 more and the names of Peachey, Tolfrey, Bartlett, 
 Wilkinson, Van Home, Krieghoff, Wickenden, Harri- 
 son, Hance and others may often be found upon a 
 Jacques Cartier River landscape. 
 
 It still holds the record for the largest brook trout, 
 but alas ! their numbers are sadly diminished. Sal- 
 mon continue to run into the river, but a close 
 Montreal corporation and Doctor levers of Quebec, 
 control the fishing. 
 
 The river is one of the main highways into the 
 Laurei itide Pa\ k, the great game preserve of the 
 province, a id und?r a wise system of protection it is 
 no longer unusual to catch sight of a magnificent 
 moose or a fine antlered caribou as one paddles up 
 the stream. 
 
 For us the Jacques Cartier will always possess the 
 unrivalled charm of its great beauty and for its forty 
 years of association with our camp fires.
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A PUNCH LADDLE 
 
 OULD you like to see a curious punch 
 ladle ? " said Mrs. J. R. Thompson, the 
 wife of the manager of the Montreal 
 Bank in the Upper Town, Quebec. 
 
 " Madam," I replied, " I dote on old 
 punch ladles or anything else that is 
 interesting and has a history." 
 And hence this story of as beautiful a creation of 
 an English goldsmith of a century ago as I have ever 
 set eyes on, and of as curious a history as punch 
 ladle ever had. 
 
 It is of heavy gold plate, with the exception of 
 the bottom, which is solid gold. The stem, which is 
 about thirteen inches long, represents the stock of a 
 Scotch thistle and the handle is formed to represent 
 thistles. The outside of the bowl is a circle of thistles 
 in high relief. The bottom is made from the great 
 gold medal of the old Beaver Club and continues to 
 bear upon both sides the engravings, mottoes and 
 inscriptions of that organization. It also bears the 
 name of its original possessor. Alexander McDougall, 
 partner in the Northwest Company of Fur Traders. 
 Two dates are shown on the medal, 1785 the year of 
 the founding of the Club, and 1780, this must have
 
 25 
 
 been the year that McDougall in some way had par- 
 ticularly distinguished himself as an explorer and 
 which entitled him to this medal of the Northwest 
 Company. It is a fitting memento of its original 
 owner and of the halycon days of the club that made 
 all Canada ring with its conviviality and all too 
 generous hospitality during its existence. The greater 
 deeds of its members in the hardships, privations 
 and sufferings endured by them in the explora- 
 tions and exploitings of the great Northwest, as 
 emblazoned on many a page of journals kept and 
 published later in England, gave to the club and the 
 Company an international fame. Some of its mem- 
 bers were among the greatest explorers on this conti- 
 nent and one and all had led a life of adventure and 
 danger in the pursuit of their calling of fur traders 
 among the wild tribes of Indians, which at that time 
 roved the great plains of the West or the forests of 
 the Columbia River or the Arctic regions. The Club 
 members were largely of Highland Scotch extraction, 
 with some French Canadians among them, and most 
 of them had been at some period connected with the 
 Hudson Bay Company. They were stalwart of frame, 
 hardy of body, self-reliant and capable. If in the 
 off months on their return to Montreal, from the 
 stress and strain of an arduous life of exposure and 
 danger in their journeyings across the continent by 
 canoe or pony, and among hostile Indians, they gave 
 themselves up to a period of roystering it was only 
 the swing back of the pendulum, and their toughened 
 constitutions readily threw off the effects of their 
 dissipations.
 
 26 
 
 The Beaver Club was formed in 1785, one year 
 after the organization of the Northwest Company. 
 It closed its doors only. in 1824 after the absorption 
 of the Company by its late rivals the Hudson Bay 
 Company in 1821. 
 
 Alexander McDougall who became a partner in 
 the Northwest Co., and a member of the Beaver Club, 
 retired to live out his days in Brantford with his 
 daughters. The punch ladle did full duty for years, 
 and I have no doubt that many a camp-fire story 
 was rehearsed with old comrades, while the generous 
 punch was ladled out, and old club nights were often 
 recalled before its owner passed over into the ranks 
 of the silent majority. 
 
 This punch ladle was bequeathed by Mr. McDou- 
 gall's eldest daughter to Dr. W. R. Bown, of Brant- 
 ford and from him it descended to his neice, Mrs. J. 
 R. Thompson. 
 
 The Beaver Club was composed of partners and 
 Traders of the Northwest Company. It commenced 
 with a membership of 19, which was finally increased 
 to 55 ordinary and 10 honorary members. Its rules 
 were as the laws of the Medes and Persians, and woe 
 to the member who infringed any of them. The 
 dinners were held semi-monthly from December until 
 April. No member in Montreal might be absent 
 from these dinners, nor dared he have a party in his 
 house nor accept invitations on club days. There 
 were five compulsory club toasts, after which any 
 member was privileged to retire. Those possessing 
 the club medal were compelled to wear it at all club
 
 27 
 
 functions under penalty. These medals were grant- 
 ed for bravery or meritorious services to the Com- 
 pany, or as explorers. 
 
 The medal is gold with a raised edge. On the 
 obverse is engraved a beaver gnawing a tree, above 
 which is inscribed Industry and Perseverance, and 
 the encircling inscription is Beaver Club, Instituted 
 Montreal, 1785. The reverse shows a eanoe with 
 four paddlers descending a chute, above the canoe 
 the words Fortitude in Distress, The encircling 
 inscription is Alexander McDougall, 1780. 
 
 Col. Landmann in his " Adventures and Recol- 
 lections," thus describes his social debut in Montreal 
 in December, 1797 on his way to Quebec to join the 
 Engineers there, to which corps he belonged. He 
 had just arrived from Halifax and brought letters 
 of introduction from the Duke of Kent, who at that 
 time was stationed there and living with the beautiful 
 Madame de St. Laurent. Landmann having pre- 
 sented his letters was immediately launched into a 
 world of festivities in which the hard drinking of the 
 period played conspicuous part. He very frankly 
 tells the story. The Beaver Club was then in the 
 zenith of its glory, and its members, composed ex- 
 clusively of the bourgeois (partners) of the North- West 
 Company, lived in semi-royal state and held high 
 carnival in their princely homes and gave club dinners 
 that were Gargantuan feasts and feats of eating and 
 drinking. These dinners were at 4 p.m., and lasted 
 as long as a single man was able to sit his chair. This 
 was the rule, and as most of the members were old
 
 28 
 
 Scotchmen with copper plated stomachs, gigantic, 
 physiques and hard headed to withstand the constant 
 passing of the decanters and bottles, they usually 
 outsat thir guests and prolonged the festivities until 
 well into the next day. As each man fell off his chair 
 and under the table the servants dragged him out 
 and carried him out of danger of the broken glass, 
 and there he slept off his deep potations, and the re- 
 velry went on. Let the gallant Landmann now tell 
 his own story : 
 
 " After many days of feasting and hard drinking, 
 I was engaged as also Humphrey and Lacy to dine 
 with Sir Alxeander MacKenzie and McGillivray. The 
 party was composed of our hosts living together and 
 partners in the North- West Company, Mr. McTavish 
 and Mr. Frobisher also of the North- West Company. 
 Mr. Shaw, Mr Roderick MacKenzie, Judge Ogden, 
 Judge Walker and his brother Tom ,Mr. Maitland, 
 partner of Andjo, Isaac Todd, Dr. Gould and many 
 other merchants : of the army were Colonels Hughes, 
 Mclntosh of the 2nd Battalion of the 60th regiment, 
 and Major O'Brien of the 24th regiment." 
 
 " In those days we dined at four o'clock and after 
 taking a satisfactory quantity of wine, perhaps a 
 bottle each, the married men. Sir John Johnson, 
 McTavish, Frobisher, O'Brien, Judge Ogden, Tom 
 Walker and some others retired, leaving about a 
 dozen others to drink to their health. We now began 
 in right earnest and true Highland style, and by four 
 o'clock in the morning the whole of us had arrived at 
 such a degree of perfection, that we could all give
 
 29 
 
 the warwhoop as well as MacKenzie and McGillivray. 
 We could all sing admirably, we could all drink,like 
 fishes, and we all thought we could dance on the table 
 without disturbing a single decanter, glass or plate 
 with which it was profusely covered : but on making 
 the experiment we discovered that it was a complete 
 delusion, and ultimately we broke all the plate, 
 glasses, bottles, etc., and the table also, and worse 
 than all the heads and hands of the party received 
 many severe contusions, cuts and scratches." 
 
 Landmann and Lacy start by sleigh for Quebec 
 the following day, accompanied as far as Pointe-aux- 
 Tremble by their late hosts, apparently none the 
 worse for their heavy potations of the night before, 
 but our author adds : " We had both suffered so 
 much through this heavy debauch, that it was not 
 until the fourth day that we arrived at Quebec, 31st 
 December, 1797. I was afterwards informed that 
 one hundred and twenty bottles of wine had been 
 consumed at our convivial meeting, but I should 
 think a great deal had been spilt and wasted." 
 
 If the members of the Beaver Club let themselves 
 loose at memorable semi-monthly dinners, it must 
 not be forgotten that many of them dropped out 
 of this convivial life to fight the wilderness for long 
 periods and to face privation, starvation and the 
 hardships that fell to the fur traders in the far-away 
 West of that period. 
 
 About 1816 one Fred. Tolfrey (who in 1845 pub- 
 lished his " Sportsman in Canada ") paid a visit to 
 Montreal and also becomes a guest of the Beaver
 
 30 
 
 Club. With a wise forethought for his " head in 
 the morning " and at an early stage of the orgy, he 
 drops under the table, is dragged away to a safe place, 
 and from this point of vantage he observes all that 
 follows throughout the prolonged feast. In the main 
 it is a repetition of what Landmann described other 
 than that the drinking contest got down to two, and 
 one in pushing over the bottle to his vis-a-vis fell 
 off his chair, and the other in reaching for it, lost his 
 balance and joined the majority under the table. 
 
 In 1821 the Hudson Bay Company absorbed the 
 North- West Company and the Beaver Club was dis- 
 banded in 1824. 
 
 Its medals of gold, and so proudly worn by some 
 of its members, have been dispersed and many of 
 them permanently lost. A few are still preserved 
 by descendants of the original possessors, and here 
 and there a piece of silver-ware with the club's motto 
 engraved upon it is owned by some collector of such 
 things, but they are extremely rare.
 
 ON THE ROAD.
 
 FROM OUT OF A BLIZZARD 
 
 give the artist an experience of " high 
 life " in the bush in mid-winter, and to 
 enable him to paint it red hot with a 
 temperature at 40 minus, the " An- 
 cient and Honorable," the Colonel and 
 the Scribe formally invited him to an 
 " At Home " at a jobber's lumber camp, 
 some forty miles in the wilderness. And the " At 
 Home " was to endure for one week if the provisions 
 held out. 
 
 The artist, an American cousin to all of them and 
 of a highly adventurous turn of mind, in answer to 
 their R.S.V.P., said : " Certainly, depend upon me. 
 Do I take my outfit in a cruche (demijohn) or in a 
 fur-lined sleeping bag ? I am not very familiar as 
 yet with your customs in such affairs." 
 
 " He's a true artist/' said the " Ancient " as they 
 read the reply, " and he's artful as well. Answer, 
 Scribe ! and say that my " Scotch baby " will keep 
 him warm by night and day. Tell him to bring 
 nothing but sheets of canvas and paint galore." 
 
 And so it came to pass that a great blizzard which 
 unexpectedly arrived, blew them out of Quebec, and 
 drove them Northward into the mountains. It was
 
 32 
 
 bitterly cold, the roads grew drifted and the snow 
 driven by a sixty mile gale, stung their faces until 
 they froze. The day waned and they were at last 
 glad to take refuge for the night in a settler's house 
 and yet many miles from their destination. It was 
 all in the game, however, and they played the cards. 
 
 " There's not a flower on all the hills ; 
 
 The frost is on the pane 
 
 sang the " Ancient and Honorable", and they pulled 
 him, a snow drifted mummy like object, out of his furs. 
 
 " And," continued he, " I've never enjoyed a drive 
 so much in all my life." 
 
 The artist when he emerged from his snow laden 
 garments, simply remarked " that art was long suf- 
 fering, but so long as they stuck by him, and did not 
 stick too long in snow-drifts, he was of them." 
 
 The Scribe, who had been deputed the cook of the 
 outing, because of the glorious hash he made of most 
 of his writings, soon extracted a beefsteak and some 
 onions from the stores. In the meantime their 
 hostess, Mrs. O'Scanlan had busied herself and the 
 three decker stove was in a roar of expectancy. 
 
 A howling winter's storm out doors, within warmth, 
 light and good cheer, and be hanged to the morrow 
 that had no cares, put the party in excellent humor, 
 and when O'Scanlan came in from the stables, a 
 veritable snow-man in appearance, and with a rush 
 of wind and blinding snow, as he opened the door, 
 the party unanimously decided that the O'Scanlan 
 fireside was the most delightful spot on earth, and 
 this too before the punch was brewed by the Colonel.
 
 33 
 
 " Gentlemen, your very good health," exclaimed 
 the Ancient and Honorable," and may you all live 
 to my age of eighty and two, that you may acquire 
 some wisdom and knowledge. I never expect to 
 hear of any of you startling the world by your bril- 
 liancy, but I hope for some improvement .To 
 achieve even this, Gentlemen, you must be temper- 
 ate in all things." 
 
 Here the " Ancient and Honorable " stopped and 
 absent-mindedly drank his glass of punch to the 
 dregs. 
 
 A smile went around the circle. The artist plucked 
 up courage to ask what the A. and H. meant by being 
 temperate. " That," said the A. and H. " varies 
 with the individual, let me illustrate my meaning 
 with a story," 
 
 " Once upon a time there was a common drunkard 
 and it occurred to him that he would be a good sub- 
 ject to insure and then he persuaded some one into 
 giving him an open credit in one of the bar-rooms. 
 Shortly after he died, and the insurance was claimed, 
 but the company declined payment on the ground 
 that the insured was intemperate when the policy 
 was issued. A law-suit followed and testimony was 
 offered by the plaintiffs to show that hard drinking 
 did not imply intemperance. One of their witnesses 
 was a French-Canadian bateau captain from up the 
 river, and this is about the nature of the questions 
 and answers." 
 
 " Captain, you knew the deceased ? " 
 
 "Yes."
 
 34 
 
 " You considered him a moderate drinker ? " 
 
 " Yes, sure." 
 
 " You drink yourself ? " 
 
 " Yes, but I'm temperate man me, I don't drink 
 mooch." 
 
 " Will you state how many nips you take in theday ?" 
 
 " Bon Dieu ! I not keep de count, but I'm temper- 
 ate man me." 
 
 " I understand, but try to give the court some idea 
 of what you mean by temperate." 
 
 "Wai, when I get up on de mornin' and go h'out 
 for take note h'on de wedder I firs tak a good nip of 
 gin, she verra good ting to tak before breakfast for 
 mak de bon appetit" 
 
 " Well, after ? " 
 
 " I go for see de bateau, h'an giv' de h'order h'on 
 de mans, den I go h'on de 'ouse and tak un coup de 
 gin before I go h'on Peter street for see de sheep 
 capataines." 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " We talk de business h'on de bar-room and we 
 tak tree, four, five nip perhaps, but I not keep de 
 count, because I'm temperate man me and not tak 
 verra many." 
 
 " And after that ? " 
 
 " I tak carter for drive h'on de Cove, mebbe I meet 
 some frens who ax me for av' a drink, so I stop four, 
 tree tarn hefore I h'arrive chez-moi ? " 
 
 " And when you get home ? " 
 
 " Wai, I feel pretty good for av' de appetizer 
 you call 'im pour diner."
 
 35 
 
 " And in the afternoon, Captain ? " 
 
 " Bien! I tak de snooze and den I go h'on Peter 
 Street h'again for see more de sheep capataines. 
 Wall, we tak six, five more nip to mak de contrac/ 
 h'an I go chez-moi for h'eat de supper." 
 
 " Do you go out in the evening ? " 
 
 " Sure, for we play les cartes h'on de 'ouse of 
 M'sieur D , but we not drink mooch, four, 
 tree, two nip h'of whiskey blanc, for I'm temperate 
 man me." 
 
 " And when you leave M'sieu D ? " 
 
 ' Wall, I go chez-moi straight and I tak what you 
 call night-cap and go h'on my bed, for I'm temperate 
 man me." 
 
 " That will do Captain." 
 
 " As you must have observed, gentlemen, as I 
 proceeded with my yarn, temperance is relative," 
 and so saying the " Ancient and Honorable " drew 
 his chair closer to the three decker and subsided, 
 but there was a merry twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " The wisdom of all the ages is concentrated in 
 the " Ancient and Honorable," may he endure for- 
 ever as a guide and beacon light to his youthful 
 friends," said the bald-headed Scribe. " The moral 
 of the story he has just told points its ringer hand at 
 a long-forgotten past. Times have changed since 
 the " Ancient " v was born. Let me spin you a yarn 
 that is more up to date." 
 
 " Last year when I was down in Northern Maine, 
 moose-hunting, I stopped at the head-quarters of a 
 prominent lumberman whose guest I was. My
 
 36 
 
 friend's name was Wald. One night a French-Can- 
 adian arrived who was in a highly excited condition. 
 He broke out at once 
 
 " M'sieu' Wall, M'sieu' Wall, de h'engineur man 
 wat was run de ligne for de Tobsquash R.R. he los 
 himself in de bush, and be gosh he not fine himself 
 no more. He go los for tree day. He not lak udder 
 h'engineer man wat come h'on de bush wit dat little 
 ting h'on tree stick wat dey look troo. Be gosh, no, 
 he not de sam at all. Wan he go h'on de bush for 
 mak de ligne, he av' de square face in de right pocket, 
 and de round bottle in de lef. Before he start he 
 put de square face to hee's mout h'an he tak long 
 h'observe after he say : " Good luck, Jean ! " Wall, 
 I tak leetle h'observe too me, h'an den we darn queek 
 go troo de bush for mile mebbe roun de montagne, 
 and den we tak more h'observe from de roun bottle. 
 He very fine man dat h'engineer for mak de railro 
 ligne. I not wid him de day he los himself." 
 
 " Very well Jean," said Wald. " I'll send a search 
 party out to-morrow morning and I've no doubt 
 we'll find your Engineer." 
 
 Early next morning Wald was completing arrange- 
 ments for the search party when Jean came into 
 camp all smiles. 
 
 " Be gosh ! M'sieu' Wall, dat h'engineer was fine 
 himself in a steel," said Jean. 
 
 " In a steel," replied Wald, " what the devil do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " You not know a steel, M'sieu' Wall, be gosh ! 
 dats place where dey mak de whiskey h'on de bush."
 
 _ Q7 - 
 Oi 
 
 " Oh ! I see," replied Wald, with a smile, " you 
 mean a still." 
 
 " Yes, M'sieu' Wall, a steel ; dat h'engineer man 
 went h'on de bush wid dat feller Antoine, h'an day 
 get los in two, tree hour. Bim by dey come h'on a 
 cabane, but de door she lock. " Be gosh, say dat 
 h'engineer man, Antoine, I smell de whiskey in dat 
 cabane, h'an I go for smash de door." Wen dey got 
 in dey fin two, tree cruche of wheesky blanc near dat 
 steel. 
 
 " Dis is great discover," said dat h'engineer man, 
 h'an I tink we camp here for tree, four day." 
 
 " But," Antoine he say," we av' no de provish for 
 camp 'ere." 
 
 " No provish," say dat h'engineer man, " why you 
 dam fool Antoine, wat more provish you want dan 
 good wheesky blanc for strong man lak you an' me 
 for tree, four day." 
 
 " So dey stay h'on dat cabane an' when dey foun' 
 demselves go dry dey back home." 
 
 " I always wanted to meet that engineer," said the 
 Scribe as he concluded his story, " but it never came 
 to pass." 
 
 The Colonel got up, knocked the ashes out of his 
 pipe, and sat down again with the remark that the 
 Scribe's yarn was too good a one to be true. "Scribe," 
 added he, n you are a fakir of stories born of a fertile 
 imagination, but you are too young to impose upon 
 your elders. Now, as an offset to your romance let 
 me tell you of an actual experience of how my old 
 Indian guide tried to resist temptation."
 
 38 
 
 " It had always been my custom to pay him off as 
 soon as I reached " Riverside'" and as invariably he 
 never got further on his way to Lorette than the set- 
 tlement where the first grog shop gobbled him up, 
 and not until the last cent was gone did it relax its 
 hold on him. Then he would return to me for a 
 quarter, because as he would observe, " you not see 
 h'ole Injun die for want of twenty-five cents." This 
 usually tapered him off when I would start him to 
 chop cord- wood in the bush. In paying him off one 
 Saturday, I said to him : " Charlo, I want you to 
 show yourself a man to-day, by passing through the 
 settlement without stopping." 
 
 ' Bien M'sieu' le Colonel, you see dat to-day, sure." 
 
 " Well, as a matter of fact I did'nt see it, but this 
 is what Jackson saw on his way out. Charlo coming 
 down the church hill on a dead run, and so through 
 the settlement and beyond it for five or six acres, 
 when he stopped short, turned round and leisurely 
 sauntered back as far as the groggery where he was 
 heard saying to himself, " bien ! Charlo, you 'av 
 plenty de courage for pass h'on de settlemen,' now 
 you tak good nip." 
 
 " Now Mr. Artist, spoiler of canvasses and costly 
 paints, we'll hear from you, either a story or a song," 
 called out the Ancient and Honorable." 
 
 "If! knew a good story I should probably spoil 
 it in the telling, and were I to sing, the wail of the 
 present blizzard would be sweet music in comparison, 
 let me rather paint you in a group and we'll entitle 
 it "The Last of Mohicans," or "The Wandering 
 Minstrels," or " The Three Terrible Toughs."
 
 39 
 
 " You refuse, then here goes a shattered yarn." 
 
 " One of the characters in my part of the world 
 is an Irishman by the name of Pat Innis. One April 
 1st day he arrived in town and promptly paid his 
 respects to the first bar, and while there some wag 
 pinned a card on his back, bearing the words " wel- 
 come to town Pat Innis." For the rest of the day 
 it was a royal reception. Everybody clapped him 
 on the back and repeated welcome to town Pat Innis, 
 and the amount of treating he got delighted him up 
 to the point that it paralyzed him, and he then passed 
 the night on the roadside instead of in his own com- 
 fortable bed. This brought on an attack of pneumo- 
 nia that landed him at the point of death. The 
 Doctor and the Priest were sent for at night and aftar 
 the Doctor had pronounced Pat's demise within an 
 hour or two the Priest administered the last sacra- 
 ments. They both waited on however, for the end. 
 About one o'clock when the Doctor and the Priest 
 were most dead themselves from want of sleep, they 
 were both startled by the dying man rising up in bed 
 and exclaiming : " Sure is that your reverence and 
 you too Doctor. Have ary a one of you a pipe of 
 tobaccy about ye, and Doctor dear it's a nip of the 
 b.ack bottle in the cupboard beyant there I'd like, 
 for its better I am feelin,' an' God willin' we'll make 
 a night of it." 
 
 They all laughed heartily at the artist's story. And 
 then O'Scanlan was called upon for a real old Irish 
 song. 
 
 " Faith " said O'Scanlan, " the divil another song
 
 40 
 
 do I know but an old Irish one, so here goes for 
 " Digging Turf on the Lea." The Scribe made an 
 effort to take down the words, but there were only 
 two stanzas he could decipher next morning of the 
 twenty or thirty that O'Scanlan sang. It was the 
 story of an Irishman who digging turf on the lea was 
 enticed to enlist by a recruiting party, and who later 
 on gives his experience of a recruit's life. The two 
 stanzas are as follows : 
 
 " The first thing they gave me was an old gun, 
 A place on the trigger to put me thumb upon, 
 I put me thumb upon it and it began to smoke, 
 And it gave me poor shoulder a damned double poke 
 Oh ! Seagrant McGuire you're a mighty queer man, 
 To put such a tool into any man's hand 
 Say, Sergeant McGuire, wont you let me retire, 
 Bad luck to the thing, don't you see it spitting fire." 
 
 " If it's a fiddler now we had Biddy here would give 
 us a step dance," said O'Scanlan as he concluded his 
 song, " for its a great dancer she is entirely." 
 
 " From the first I was that," replied Mrs. O'Scan- 
 lan, " I mind once we uns all went to a dance at Uncle 
 Jim's. Of course I was dressed in my best, and they 
 said I looked well. I was a slip of a thing only six- 
 teen. There was a lad from town and a fine dancer 
 he was to be sure, and nothing would do but I must 
 get on the flure with him. Well we danced till all 
 hours. The next day, 1 mind it well, we uns were 
 killing pigs and I was carrying bilin' water to the men 
 when I looks up the road and who should I see but 
 my laddie o'lea From town with the fiddler and the
 
 fiddle tucked under his arm. Well if you had seen 
 the rig I was in, an old coat of dadda's and a hat full 
 of holes and me bare feet. My lad came up to me 
 for I had'nt a chance to get away for the men were 
 waiting for the hot water. 
 
 " Is Miss Bridget in ? " says he. 
 
 " She is," says I, " but she's asleep." 
 
 " I'm sorry," says he, " for I would like to have 
 had another dance with her." And with that he 
 went away, to the town, and I never saw him again. 
 
 " If there was a fiddler here to-night," said the 
 Ancient and Honorable, " I'd prolong our entertain- 
 ment all night for the pleasure of some step-dances 
 with Mrs. O'Scanlan. As it is, gentlemen, it's bed 
 time, so draw out the carriole rugs on the floor along- 
 side the stove. Shove in the night log O'Scanlan, 
 and I'll show these youngsters how to curl up on a 
 buffalo and sleep like a baby."
 
 FROM OUT OF A BLIZZARD 
 
 PART II 
 
 HE Ancient and Honorable, always an 
 early riser, was astir at daybreak, and, 
 poking, his head out of the door, took 
 an observation of the weather conditions. 
 The storm had ceased and a roseate sky 
 adown the East proclaimed a clear cold 
 day, but the snow lay in great drifts about the build- 
 ings and all tracks and roads were obliterated beneath 
 the gray white mantle. He closed the door with a 
 bang to awaken the snoring sleepers, and, while they 
 were yawning themselves into life, he noisily made 
 up the fire as he sang : 
 
 " High life of a hunter. He meets on the hill 
 The new wakened daylight so bright and so still, 
 And feels as the clouds of the morning unroll 
 The silence, the splendour, enoble his soul. 
 Tis his o'er the mountain to stalk like a ghost 
 Enshrouded with snow in which Nature is lost." 
 
 '' Faith gentlemen," said he, as he wound up his 
 song, " it's over the mountains you'll stalk to-day 
 on snow-shoes for Nature is lost this morning under 
 drifts that we'll find some trouble in putting the 
 horses through, unless you are prepared to pull and
 
 
 
 AFTER THE STORM.
 
 43 
 
 push, but after all it is only by pull and push that WP 
 have any of us gotten through life, so : 
 
 " Let us all be up an doing 
 
 With a heart for any fate, 
 Hill achieving , still pursuing, 
 
 Learn to labor and to wait." 
 
 But we won't wait too long, just labor. 
 
 Sleepy-eyed O'Scanlan, after a moment's survey 
 of the situation through a slit in the door, pronounced 
 the roads impassable, but Mrs. O'Scanlan, who ap- 
 peared on the scene at this juncture, simply said : 
 " Pat, it's some wood you'll go out and cut to get the 
 breakfast with, and it's then you'll help the gentle- 
 men get started." 
 
 The start was the prelude of the finish. Apart 
 from the balises which indicated where the road 
 had been, road there was none, but the party were 
 of good hope and the bright, cripsy morning was 
 inspiring. 
 
 The artist wanted to stop every few moments to 
 get out his easel, paints and canvasses to " put down 
 some notes." as he expressed it, but the others 
 laughed him to scorn and told him that he only 
 wanted an excuse to loaf while they froze. They 
 broke out the road for the horses by going in ad- 
 vance on snowshoes, and at bad drifts they used the 
 snow-shovels which O'Scanlan had loaned them. 
 
 When the mountains came down close to the river 
 and the heavy bush commenced, the road became 
 merely a deep track. The heavily snow laden spruce 
 and balsam trees dropped their burdens of snow on
 
 44 
 
 
 the heads of the party as they passed beneath, and 
 the " carioles " soon became filled. 
 
 " Your Canadian bush in winter," remarked the 
 artist to the scribe, " is a revelation, a joy forever, 
 and its dead silence after a snowfall, is wonderful. 
 Apparently there is no other living thing in it except 
 ourselves." 
 
 The Colonel, as became his rank, led the party 
 with rifle ready, " for," as he sagely remarked, " it 
 was always the unexcepted that occurred and who 
 could say that he might not get a shot at a caribou 
 or a moose." 
 
 " It's a good deal more likely that you'll get a shot 
 at some logger's old horse, and it's then you'll learn 
 the value of a dead horse," said the Ancient and 
 Honorable. 
 
 " Bah ! " said the Colonel, " if I had you, Ancient 
 and Honorable, in my bdtes de patates corps I'd drill 
 you into a respect for your superior officer." 
 
 ""W hat's a bete'de palate corps ? " enquiredjthe inno- 
 cent artist. 
 
 " That," answered the scribe, " is the name by 
 which the habitants designate the volunteers in red 
 jackets. Translated it means potato bugs. The 
 habitant isn't any great respecter of persons, or titles. 
 Even a Colonel doesn't paralyze him, for truth is 
 that Colonels are now as thick as leaves on the trees. 
 Unless we create more Generals the Colonels will soon 
 be at a discount." 
 
 " Just so," put in the artist, " it's almost painful 
 to run up against so many Colonels, and it would
 
 45 
 
 be a relief, to discover a simple private. I (lid find 
 a lance-corporal last winter at a public dinner at the 
 Frontenac." I sat next to him : " I said ; 'Colonel, 
 you're health !' He replied : 'I beg your pardon sir, 
 I have the honorable distinction of being a lance- 
 corporal.' 
 
 " So I drank to the health of all lance-corporals 
 and privates. You Canadians have always laughed 
 at us Americans because of our fondness for military 
 titles, but you are following our example and some 
 day we'll turn the lime light on you and have our 
 laugh." 
 
 Approaching mid-day the sound of axes announced 
 the proximity of the jobbers camp. A turn of the 
 road revealed it, and a shout from the Colonel brought 
 old Narteau to the door with a profusion of welcome 
 and offers of assistance. 
 
 " M'sieu' le Colonel, attendez, attendez, I will call 
 the boys," and darting into the camp he again re- 
 appeared with a birch bark horn used for calling 
 moose. On this he bellowed and grunted for a few 
 moments, with many swings and postulations of 
 body. 
 
 The whole proceeding set the artist on the broad 
 grin, although he admitted it was immense. 
 
 Answering grunts and groans came from the 
 mountain side, and soon three sturdy, chunky young 
 fellows swung down on their snowshoes, and the 
 horses were at once unharnessed and stabled. Nar- 
 cisse announced dinner and all hands sat down at a 
 long log table. Bush pea soup was served in tin
 
 46 
 
 bowls, and the Ancient and Honorable expressed 
 it as his firm conviction that this was the Ambrosia 
 of the Gods, and pot bread was its righteous accom- 
 paniment. 
 
 A corner of the big log camp was preempted by the 
 party, thoroughly broomed and spread a foot thick 
 with fresh balsam branches. The artist set up his 
 easel near the only window, while the scribe went 
 diligently to work with old Narteau to arrange the 
 menu for the evening meal. The Colonel amused 
 himself hunting hares in a swamp near the camp. 
 
 Winter days are short in the deep spruce bush 
 at the foot of the mountains, and the darkness drops 
 at once often as early as half past three. 
 
 The three young Narteau's when they came in 
 from their chopping busied themselves in choring 
 and caring for the horses, then the three sat together 
 on a bench and smoked their pipes and conversed 
 in low tones. The Colonel brought in two hares 
 whereupn the Ancient and Honorable told the story 
 of the two sportsmen hurrying to overtake a hare 
 that they had caught a glimpse of, when they met a 
 country boy and one of the sportsmen said to him: 
 
 " Did you see a hare go by a moment ago ? " 
 
 " What, a little thing with four legs that goes 
 hoppity, hoppity ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the sportsman. 
 
 " And with two long ears ? " 
 
 " Yes, boy, yes I " 
 
 " And a little short tail with a white tip ? " 
 
 " That's him," said the impatient sportsman, "and 
 where did he go ? "
 
 47 
 
 " WeU," replied the boy with a drawl, " I ain't 
 seen him to-day." 
 
 " That boy," said the Colonel, " was too smart 
 to have ever been successful." 
 
 " I will illustrate my meaning. Last summer one 
 of our most successful Scotch-Canadians joined me 
 in London. It was his first visit to England. Walk- 
 ing down the Strand together one morning we were 
 stopped by a well dressed man who asked us whether 
 we could direct him to the office of Smith & Co. 
 Barberry Lane. I was about to answer that we 
 were strangers to London, when to my utter sur- 
 prise, my Scotch-Canadian friend said : 
 
 " Certainly sir, turn the first left hand corner, go 
 down two blocks, turn then to your right, and a cou- 
 ple of doors down you will see Smith's sign." 
 
 The gentleman thanked us profusely and went on 
 his way. 
 
 I turned to my friend and said, " how in the world 
 did you know how to direct that man ? " 
 
 " Why." he answered, " I didn't, but I wanted 
 to send him away happy and make a good fellow 
 of myself. Josh Billings never uttered a greater 
 truth than in that saying of his when a man comes 
 to you for advice, find out what kind of advice he 
 wants and give him that if you want to satisfy him 
 that you're a clever follow." 
 
 The scribe who had donned himself in a paper bag 
 chef's cap and an improvised apron made from a flour 
 sack and labelled " Jones' Best." announced supper 
 and with great jollity the meal proceeded.
 
 48 
 
 After supper the artist, who had painted all the 
 afternoon, produced his unfinished sketch of the 
 camp interior with all its subtle mystery of light, 
 and it was voted a genuine Rembrant " with lights 
 out." 
 
 " Bah ! " said the artist, " it's always lights out' 
 with such ignoramuses as you fellows." As a diver- 
 sion from the artist's remarks which were pointed 
 and personal, someone asked old Narteau whether 
 he ever saw any bears around the camp. 
 
 " Be gosh ! you right, I 'av de great experience 
 h'on de camp 'ere when I go for to bring in de provish 
 h'on de fall tam. I get tree, four load h'on de cabane, 
 an' I go for some more. When I h'arrive I 'ear 
 mooch tumble h'on de h'inside, an' I go for see. Be 
 gosh ! a beeg bear she root up de provish. Well 
 damn quick I pull too dat dour an' stick in de pin 
 for close, h'an I say now m'sieu' bear I go for gun 
 to keel you. Be gosh'! I not go ten feet when I 
 'ear de smash, h'an I see dat bear com' troo de winder 
 wid de sash aroun' hees neck like wat you call de 
 collet, (collar) Be gosh ! den I run pretty quick 
 an' de bear she run too. Well, I not stop for light 
 de pipe, but I get h'out h'on de bush an' h'in my 
 'ouse." 
 
 It was young Joe who now broke in with : 
 
 " Voici 1'hiver arrive 1 . 
 
 Les rivieres sont gel6es ; 
 
 C'est le temps d'aller au bois 
 
 Manger du lard et des pois. 
 
 Dans les chantiers nous hivernerons ! 
 
 Dans les ohantiers nous hivernerons !"
 
 49 
 
 Before the last stanza was sung all but the artist 
 were sound asleep. 
 
 Over the mountains was a chain of lakes much 
 resorted to by caribou and said to abound in tommy 
 cods. The scribe is almost certain that old Narteau 
 called them tommy cods, but what is in a name, a 
 rose by any other name would smell as sweet. One 
 morning the party tied on snowshoes and visited 
 these lakes for the Friday's fish and a caribou steak. 
 They found a small lodge on the shore of the first 
 lake and promptly took possession of it. Armed 
 with an ice chisel mounted on a long pole the Ancient 
 and Honorable soon had a half dozen holes cut in the 
 ice and as many lines set. The artist and the scribe 
 took notes from the shelter of the lodge and the 
 Colonel set forth to do or be done. 
 
 The fishing proved good and now it came time to 
 return but no Colonel. Shortly after, however, the 
 click, click of his snowshoes announced his coming. 
 And the conquering hero could not have looked 
 prouder than he as he spread a beautiful caribou 
 skin at the feet of his friends. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said he, 'we have all found what 
 we came for, and if it is agreed we will return to 
 Quebec to-morrow." 
 
 And it was so agreed.
 
 AUTUMN GLEANING ABOUT QUEBEC 
 
 LD Mother Nature is liberal in her gifts 
 to us if we go to her in the proper spirit 
 of understanding. Even when drear late 
 autumn has despoiled her of many of her 
 most cherished possessions she is still 
 generous of gifts from what remains to 
 her of spring and summer finery where- 
 with we may continue to decorate our house and keep 
 alive the memory of better days when she showered 
 us with a wealth of bloom for the taking. 
 
 *W hen the late autumn frosts have laid low even 
 the last remaining flower in our fields and gardens 
 there yet remains a wealth of beauty in much of the 
 stricken plant life wherewith we may make bouquets 
 alive with color, form and showiness that bring sun- 
 shine into the home. 
 
 Before the snow falls we make the first collecting 
 tour in our garden with a certainty of some good finds. 
 Our hardy rose-bushes are covered with round large 
 orange or red berries. With our clipping shears we 
 cut a considerable number of laden branches. It is 
 a cluster of beautiful colors and so it will remain all 
 winter in our vases, and, if we have previously par- 
 tially filled our vases with rose petals, we may have
 
 C1 
 J-L 
 
 the odor of the flowers for months, as a reminder of 
 late June days. We next attack the snowball bush 
 so called because of its large white berry. This we 
 also despoil of some of its branches and placing them 
 beside our brilliant rose fruit they form a wondrous 
 contrast of white orange and red. A barberry bush 
 with its beautiful, delicate, elongated crimson fruit 
 in rows down the stem, is somewhat heavily drawn 
 upon for it holds its leaves until very late and the 
 berries or fruit retain their fulness and color until 
 spring. The berry of the barberry is somewhat sour 
 and astringent. Some country house-wives make it 
 into a jelly as a substitute for cranberry sauce for the 
 Christmns turkey. Our winter birds, avoid it, perhaps 
 because of its sourness. It makes a delightful house 
 decoration either by itself or interpersed with other 
 varieties of shrubs. 
 
 The mountain ash with its great clusters of crimson 
 berries next receives our attention. It lacks grace 
 because of the heavy bunches of fruit, but it endures 
 well and the color is good. It is largely sold on our 
 open Quebec market in the autumn by the habitant 
 market women. It retains its color all winter. We 
 take it to mix with our green Christmas decorations 
 of princess pine and trailing hemlock. Sometimes we 
 string it on the threads for similar purposes. The 
 pembina, or high bush cranberry, is another bush 
 from which we cull largely as it has a crimson fruit 
 that is decorative and lasting. We have sometimes 
 made preserves from it, but we cannot recommend it 
 as tasty. The Indians use it as an anti-scorbutic to
 
 52 
 
 a purely meat diet in winter. From a patch of peri- 
 winkle we cut some long stems for the sake of its rich 
 shiny dark green leaves and their drooping streamery. 
 When dropped into a vase filled with water, 
 it will keep fresh for several months. This completes 
 our garden gleaning although we might have added 
 several other things to it, but we are always bearing 
 in mind our field and wood excursion that we know 
 will yield us large returns. A house even has its 
 limitations of space for floral or plant decoration. 
 
 The day we went a-field we had several members 
 of our family with us for the delightful outing which 
 it implied in the cool crisp day lighted by the sun 
 in an unclouded morning. We know the country 
 well and where each plant grows that we are searching 
 for. First of all we hunt a dry hillside for the milk- 
 weed, and finding it, we cut the pod bearing stalks 
 close to the ground. Some of these pods are already 
 opening and their beautiful white, fleecy and shiny, 
 and myriad Gossamer heads like threads of finest silk 
 that are ready to take aerial flight with their little 
 browny seeds attached ; a balloon of such light and 
 delicate texture that a breath sets it afloat and away 
 it goes in search of " fresh fields and pastures new." 
 The closed pods when brought into the house open 
 gradually and their contents without escaping form 
 an umbel of surprising loveliness. 
 
 In a little marsh pond we find some beautiful brown 
 headed cat-tails and we are careful not to cut those 
 that have commenced to show signs of disintegration 
 for, like the seed of the milkweed, it is winged for
 
 flight and the seed from one head of cat-tail will cover 
 everything in a house with its down. The cat-tail 
 is decorative, however, as it makes a tall background 
 in a vase for the milkweed and the sedge grass which 
 we find growing near-by. The seed pod of this coarse 
 marsh grass is, a series of spiney heads each of three 
 quarters of an inch in diameter. In its autumn dress 
 of quaker drab it is an effective addition to our vase 
 arrangement. 
 
 In a fence hedge, not far away, we find the clematis 
 vine with its seed whorls at every joint. They are 
 umbels of fleeciness, and the delicate long vine stem 
 may be twisted into any form. Although the fruit 
 of the high bush sumac is rather a heavy bunch or 
 spike of deep maroon it is not without a charm at 
 all events it goes into our collections because perhaps 
 of its very stiffness, or because it is deeper in color 
 than any other of our fall fruits. It endures forever 
 indoors. 
 
 Some of our thistles, if not gathered too late in the 
 season are delightful as the heads of the flowers are 
 fluffy seed receptacles. 
 
 Some of our French Canadian tenants yearly 
 bring us dyed grasses in bouquet form, also bundles of 
 dyed everlasting with which, in their own houses, 
 they decorate the memorial souvenirs of the deceased 
 that hang in the best room and give you the creeps 
 on a winter's day as you are ushered in. The ever- 
 lasting is also used by our habitant friends to stuff 
 pillows and cushions. We only use it to make con- 
 trast of color in our vase arrangements. It's pearly
 
 54 
 
 grey is a good stand off against the sombre drabs of 
 other holdings. It grows luxuriantly in waste places 
 where the rock is close to the surface. 
 
 Along the roadside we gather some of the seeded 
 purple asters and golden rods, for these also make 
 for decorative effect when combined with other things 
 such as wild parsnips, etc. 
 
 And by the by how our small birds of the winter 
 love to perch on the stalk of the wild parsnip and 
 devour its seed. 
 
 Before the snow comes we go to the deep spruce 
 bush for our Christmas decorations such as the prin- 
 cess pine and the trailing hemlock, both vines of 
 evergreen leaf, but we also find other interesting 
 plants. On an old moss : grown log we discover tin- 
 creeping snowberry. the smallest and loveliest of all 
 the heath family with its tiny white berries. This 
 with some wintergreen will make a very pretty com- 
 bination for a shallow bowl. We half fill our pockets 
 with wintergreen berries to nibble on for their aromatic 
 flavor which is pleasant to the taste. In a waste 
 patch some wild blackberry bushes are still in leaf, 
 and the leaves run the gamut of reds to deep purples. 
 We cut a bunch of stems because of their wealth of 
 color. 
 
 By this time some of the young members of our 
 party are beginning to complain of being hungry. 
 One said she wished there was a cracker-tree growing 
 near-by. We piloted them, not to a cracker tree, but 
 to a wild apple-tree we knew of on the edge of a wood 
 whereon grew a sweet apple generous of flavor but
 
 55 
 
 of coarse growth. There were a few remaining which 
 we speedily devoured, and then we turned home-ward 
 through a bush-road that we might pick up some 
 stalks of the gingsing for the sake of its blue fruit, 
 and also to gather some Indian hay for its perfume. 
 We had by now exhausted the varieties of plants that 
 lend themselves to house decoration in the winter, 
 and for our purpose we had quite sufficient for the 
 scheme of vase and jardiniere arrangement we had in 
 view. 
 
 When we struck the high road we met a neighboring 
 farmer who smilingly enquired what we were going 
 to do with " them dried weeds ? " 
 
 " Call in this evening Mr. Plowman and well be 
 delighted to show you," was our reply. 
 
 We wish we could even faintly convey an idea of 
 the beauty of an unconventional grouping of these 
 various forms, but only an illustration could do that 
 unless we could show the vases and jardinieres them- 
 selves when arranged. 
 
 In our walks over the fields around Quebec we have 
 never found the bitter-sweet vine with its orange and 
 red clusters of fruit. We know of nothing so decor- 
 ative as this plant. 
 
 Our walk has proved n pleasant one, and at the 
 same time it has been educational to all for as we 
 searched we found not only the things for which we 
 sought, but a hundred others quite as interesting in 
 their way, and it keyed up our bump of observation 
 and enlarged our understanding. The faculty of close 
 observations is too little cultivated now-a-days. We
 
 56 
 
 leave all that to specialists and are content to take 
 our information second hand. This has enabled the 
 nature-fakir to impose his bogus stories on the public 
 to such an extent that they have become a plague of 
 untruths.
 
 ST. MAURICE RIVER WITH ROD AND 
 CANOE 
 
 GLORIOUS afternoon of a cool August 
 day when the little train drew panting 
 into Grandes Piles the railroad terminus 
 on the St. Maurice River, and the begin- 
 ning of water navigation to La Tuque, 
 and then beyond by canoe to the world's 
 end. A wild fall, a scattered village on 
 the side of the great sand hills, and behind ragged 
 bare mountains of variegated colored rocks. Three 
 little river boats, paintless and generally dirseputable, 
 panted furiously at their shore moorings. A motley 
 crowd of river men, lumber jacks, Indians, railroad 
 contractors, wandering Chinamen idled about to wit- 
 ness the final loading and departure of the up-river 
 craft. Passengers had to walk the long plank if in 
 fit state, but otherwise they were seized by three 
 stalwart boatmen and summarily dragged on board 
 and planted amidst the freight to sleep off their heavy 
 potations. " Man dear," said a stalwart Scotchman 
 to U3, " this is the way most of them go abroad, but 
 they re grand fellows in the bush when the whiskey 
 is out of them." 
 
 The fellows who were only mellow bantered words
 
 58 
 
 with their friends on shore, and the latter returned it. 
 Such a singular looking crowd. They are conven- 
 tional as to a slouch hat, but it was many hued as 
 to flannel shirts. Finally the whistle of the good 
 steamer Samson gave a shrill toot. The St. Maurice 
 replied, lines were cast off and we started one boat 
 following the other so close that a stern end collision 
 seemed momentarily imminent. 
 
 A few miles up stream and we were well into rugged 
 and piled up mountains that oft'times dropped sheer 
 into the river. Wherever a chance offered for a fair 
 foothold on a piece of land some hardy river man had 
 pre-empted it and settled down to cultivating a 
 numerous family, at least we saw no other crop that 
 amounted to anything. 
 
 Fire some thirty years ago destroyed all standing 
 timber over a large section of this country. Here 
 and there a tall dead pine stands a pitiful memorial 
 of the devastation caused. 
 
 A prominent American lumberman who was on 
 board with us on his way to inspect some limits on 
 the Vermilion River, said to us : " What you see 
 here in the way of destruction caused by bush fires 
 has followed in the wake of the lumberman all over 
 the continent. It is inevitable notwithstanding all 
 care and precaution. Many of us therefore who have 
 been scorched in the past are like the burnt child that 
 dreads the fire, and now-a-days we sweep our limits 
 clean of all merchantable timber as we go and give no 
 thought to that future growth that never comes to us. 
 Dread experience has taught us to be cruel to save
 
 59 
 
 the timber from the worse fate of the devouring 
 element of fire. It is fire-fire, and not the lumbermen 
 that is responsible for the havoc wrought in the pine 
 and spruce sections of the country. 
 
 " You have noticed," continued he, " the thousands 
 and thousands of spruce logs stranded along the shores 
 and on the sand bars. It has taken two years to get 
 these logs as far as this and they come a river journey 
 of upwards of 300 miles, so you see the lumbermen 
 is now compelled to go far afield for his supplies and 
 to wait a long time for his returns." 
 
 " Yes, the extension of the Quebec and Lake St. 
 John R.R. to La Tuque will be a great boon to the 
 lumber jobbers as it will lessen their haulage of pro- 
 visions, hay, etc., that now has to be teamed from 
 Grandes Piles in winter. Quebec merchants if thor- 
 oughly awake to their own interests would soon have 
 supply depots and agents at La Tuque to catch this 
 important and growing trade. Montreal is already 
 after it hot foot." 
 
 " Another thing, with a well appointed hotel at 
 La Tuque and a couple of light draught stern wheelers 
 on the river, the round trip from Quebec to La Tuque 
 by rail, to Grandes Piles by steamer, and thence to 
 Quebec by rail, will become one of the most popular 
 with tourists as it can be comfortably made with only 
 one nights' stay at La Tuque. The scenery on the 
 line of the railroad is most picturesque while the 
 river in wildness is a close second to the Saguenay 
 with some added charms entirely of its own." 
 We were quite prepared to agree with our American
 
 60 
 
 acquaintance, for at every turn in the river some new 
 and striking features in the mountains presented 
 themselves. The river is swift and shallow. To fol- 
 low the buoyed channel the staunch boat Samson was 
 alternately slipping up along shore on one side and 
 then on the other. 
 
 We made several stops to let off a stray passenger 
 or a mail bag. The engines were stopped, a cou- 
 ple of roustabouts grabbed the nearest tree with a 
 boat hook and hung on, a plank was run out, and 
 the thing was done. 
 
 Once we were hailed to stop. We swung in shore 
 and on the top of an almost perpendicular sand hill 
 about 60 feet above the river we found an entire 
 family, its furniture and live stock to be embarqued 
 for La Tuque. It seemed an impossible feat, but our 
 Captain was a resourceful man. Out came a block 
 and tackle, a nimble fellow, after some few set backs, 
 scaled the hill, attached the block and tackle to a 
 stump, took a hitch around the family stove as the 
 first article to be embarked, and then, while he held 
 fast to the other end of the rope, the owner of the 
 stove shoved it over the bank and down it magestically 
 sailed in a great cloud of dust to the beach. The turn 
 of the cow came, the rope was tied around her fore- 
 quarters and despite her kicks and protests, she too 
 was pushed over the edge and down she came the 
 most surprised cow we ever saw when she reached 
 the landing. A heterogenous collection of furniture 
 then followed with a dozen youngsters hitched in 
 pairs ; but the crowning glory of the show was the
 
 61 
 
 descent of the woman with a baby in arms. The rope 
 was adjusted around her waist, when, taking a sitting 
 position with her feet well braced and spread, she was 
 let go and slid as gracefully to the bottom as a small 
 boy does off the roof of a house. She was loudly 
 cheered and she smiled her acknowledgements. We 
 verily believe that woman had been doing that stunt 
 all her life. 
 
 We passed the hat around and when it was half 
 full of coin we presented it to her and wished her joy 
 in her new home, and further increases to her already 
 large family. 
 
 Her reply was simple as her English was limited. 
 
 " By gosh m'sieur ! you av de good heart. When 
 I get in La Tuque by gosh, I buy me wan creche 
 (cradle) for tink of you ! " 
 
 Of such are the joys of the French-Canadian out- 
 dwellers. 
 
 Mekinac, a pretentious settlement of two or three 
 houses, now came into view, and as we were to debark 
 here for our further journey into the wilderness of 
 mountains " away and aback beyant," the gallant 
 Captain announced our arrival with a flourish of cap 
 and " for he's a jolly good fellow" from the dozen 
 newly made acquaintances, which we still think was 
 intended for our lady member, the good steamer 
 Samson turned gracefully into the swift stream, and 
 was off again. 
 
 Just then one of the river jacks who had been 
 paralyzed all the way up, lifted himself up so that his 
 head showed above the steamer's rail. Gazing at us
 
 62 
 
 with codfish eyes he exclaimed : " lost by gosh ! " 
 and dropped below the rail. 
 
 Well we were somewhat lost we admit, but a moment 
 later our quondam friend of the long ago Arsenault 
 of river fame, came down to the landing and heartily 
 greeted us. 
 
 " Could we get into Capt. Batchelder's camp before 
 dark ? " " Seven miles over the mountains and a bush 
 road and just three hours of daylight," replied Arse- 
 nault, " but we'll chance it, but without luggage." 
 
 Ten minutes later our lady member astride a little 
 horse and Arsenault and the writer on a buck-board 
 disappeared in the bush. 
 
 The afterglow was just fading off the lake when we 
 drew rein at Camp Chateau and received noisy wel- 
 come from a pointer dog that at once brought our 
 host and a horde of men and women retainers to our side. 
 
 We were first of all thawed out before a roaring log 
 fire, then we were dined a la Delmonico, and at ten 
 o'clock a smart maid showed us across the gallery to 
 our bedroom. In these high altitudes the nights are 
 cold and we found three blankets none too warm. 
 
 About five a.m., the maid brought us hot coffee 
 and announced that the canoe was ready and the 
 guide in waiting to take us on the lake for the early 
 fishing. We left the lady member sound asleep as we 
 slipped out into the chill morning air and into our 
 canoe. 
 
 The trout were in rising humor, and when the gong 
 at the camp announced breakfast we had a goodly 
 number of trout of fair size to our record.
 
 CHATEAU LAKE. Mekinac.
 
 63 
 
 Days followed days of alternate fishing, explorations 
 for new lakes, and delightful evenings in camp when 
 the day's work was done and notes to be compared. 
 Our host Captain Batchelder, was a cavalry leader 
 during the Rebellion and saw stirring warfare. Later 
 he became one of the pioneers in the far West and 
 took an active part in state construction out of 
 unclaimed wilderness. When Oklahoma was opened 
 to settlement he was among the pioneers, and the 
 first builder of important warehouses in the city of 
 that name. His adventures and exploits in the West 
 are written large on the roll of men who have dared 
 and done things. In our Canadian wilderness he still 
 continues his activities, and in his vast area of country 
 he is employing dozens of men in the dpening of trails 
 and roads and the building of camps. At Lake Cha- 
 teau a sumptious series of buildings have been erected 
 as headquarters. They are designed for a large staff 
 of servants and guides and for the comfort and con- 
 venience of the captain's many guests who number 
 prominent and distinguished people in the U. S. and 
 Canada. The territory abounds in game moose, 
 caribou and deer are everywhere numerous. Trout 
 fill the lakes and streams. Beaver are in such num- 
 bers as to be almost a nuisance. We visited a lake 
 where these active little animals had built a dam two 
 hundred and twenty feet long, and of wonderful 
 engineering skill. Between the two lakes Chateau 
 we destroyed a dam one evening to permit of the 
 passage of the canoes. The folio whig morning it was 
 all rebuilt and even stronger. We watched several
 
 of the beaver at work and admired their skill. The 
 protection afforded these little animals this past few 
 years has worked their salvation and to-day they are 
 quite numerous again. 
 
 Some river drivers spending a Saturday night at 
 our camp gave the Captain an opportunity for exhi- 
 biting their skill in stunts on floating logs. He offered 
 $10 in prizes for various feats, the contest to come off 
 next morning. There were five contestants and some 
 of the feats performed on the floating logs showed 
 balancing that was simply astonishing. One active 
 young fellow turned a somersault on his log and pre- 
 served his place, cooly stood up and lighted his pipe 
 and commenced birling his log, that is rolling it as 
 rapidly as possible in the water. One old fellow lay 
 on his back on his log and feigned sleep a very pretty 
 feat this. Two men then stood up on one log and 
 each tried to turn it in opposite directions, or perhaps 
 in one way until one lost his balance and took a header 
 into the water which always turned the laugh against 
 him. Many other and some daring feats were per- 
 formed, such as taking long jumps from one log to 
 another and maintaining a balance. After the prize 
 winners were announced a liberal jorum of whiskey 
 was dealt out to each man. One of these men we 
 afterwards took with us on a trip in which 
 there were several long and ugly portages where the 
 canoe had to be carried. His sure-footedness and 
 speed through the tangle was a delight to us to witness. 
 He never once made a mis-step while we were oft'times 
 floundering.
 
 65 
 
 The Captain kept some horses for riding over the 
 trails. Their training from colthood for this work 
 had made them as much at home on these rough 
 paths as a mountain mule. 
 
 Our last day at Lake Chateau was devoted to fish- 
 ing. Some forty large trout were taken to our fly 
 when we rested in great content. Our evening in 
 camp was spent before a great log fire in the big living 
 room listening to strange tales of adventures in the 
 far West and of war and battles in which the Captain 
 played a part. 
 
 The next morning the cavalcade of riders fell into 
 line the buckboard followed with the baggage, the 
 guides brought up the rear and so we moved down 
 the mountains to the St. Maurice River where the 
 steamer of that name impatiently awaited our coming 
 to bear us back into civilization.
 
 CORNELIUS KRIEGHOFF 
 
 HE following brief sketch of Krieghoff 
 must be considered solely as supple- 
 mentary to the one published in " From 
 My Quebec Scrap Book," 1907. It con- 
 tains some new informations from au- 
 thorative sources. 
 
 However defective the technical art 
 in the paintings of Cornelius Krieghoff, the interest 
 in them steadily grows with the years, and their mar- 
 ket value is ever upward. They will always be in- 
 teresting, if only from an ethnological or historical 
 point of view, and this would alone entitle them to 
 consideration if for no other reason. Whenever 
 there is to be a National Museum in Quebec a serious 
 effort should be made to install some of the more 
 locally characteristic of his works. He saw and 
 caught, perhaps crudely, yet entertainingly, so many 
 of the salient features of the life of French Canada 
 as it existed fifty years ago, and which all too soon 
 was to disappear, that we who claim birth-right in 
 our Province of Quebec may justly acclaim him as 
 our Wilkie. His prolific brush seized upon anything 
 that was quaint, curious, humorous or interesting, 
 and transferred it to canvas. In landscape he pic-
 
 67 
 
 tured our autumn colorings in too detailed vividness, 
 but the scenes are familiar and endeared to us by 
 associations that lend them interest. So too with 
 his winter snows, deep sunsets, and darkling spruces 
 with their lonesome figures of Indian or hunters. Then 
 how his settler's log house in our back mountain 
 clearings captivates us with all its accompanying 
 minutiae of detail, not forgetting the pig and the 
 last baby which appears at the open door in its mo- 
 ther's arms as both give welcome to the returning 
 master of the house seated in his old berlo drawn 
 by tough Blanc in much patched harness. Some of 
 the drawing may be very bad, much of the coloring 
 is faulty the perspective may be wrong, very often 
 is, yet the picture is as faithful to the life as he could 
 portray it, and this faithfulness is the charm. We 
 forgive his limitations of good art in his humanity, 
 his fidelity to the detail. If we do not stand en- 
 raptured before his pictures because of their supreme 
 beauty of ideality, we enjoy him because he has let 
 us into the " family circle " as it were. Since the 
 publication of my sketch of Krieghoff in the Christ- 
 mas issue of the Telegraph for 1906, I have received 
 dozens of letters of enquiry from all over the Dom- 
 inion for further particulars of his works and his 
 career. I have even had paintings sent me by ex- 
 press to authenticate as to whether by him or other- 
 wise. When I wrote the article referred to I had to 
 rely entirely upon such information as I could deriv e 
 from John S. Budden, Esq., who lived with Krieghoff 
 for some thirteen years and who handled most of his
 
 68 
 
 pictures painted in Quebec. I could unearth no 
 letters of Krieghoff, nor could I find anyone who 
 remembered very much about him. He was a re- 
 tiring man, except to a few intimates, all dead except 
 Sudden. 
 
 The publication of the sketch, however, finally 
 brought me a letter from a William Krieghoff, an 
 artist and illustrator on the New York Herald staff, 
 who stated that he was a grand nephew of Cornelius 
 Krieghoff. Further correspondence brought out the 
 following facts from the data in his possession. 
 
 Cornelius Krieghoff was the eldest son of John 
 Krieghoff, a manufacturer of wall paper at Dussel- 
 dorf in Saxony, where Cornelius was born about 
 1812. His mother was a Hollander, a Miss Van 
 Wanters. His boyhood was spent at Mainburg Cas- 
 tle, near Schweinfurt, in Bavaria. He received a 
 good education and studied music and painting in 
 Dusseldorf. When about eighteen he started on foot 
 to see Europe, relying on his ability as a musician and 
 painter to pay his way. His tour completed he 
 turned his thoughts to the United States as a field 
 for his talents, and finally landed in New York to 
 become a wandering musician and a collector of rare 
 plants for a German University. The Seminole war 
 breaking out he joined the U. S. army in oidtr to 
 observe and record the events of that sanguinary 
 conflict in the Everglades of Florida. He made sev- 
 eral hundreds of; drawings, and the U.S. Government 
 commissioned him to make replicas of them for 
 the War Department Archives, which he did in his
 
 69 
 
 studio at Rochester, New York, where he resided for 
 several years. He next removed to Toronto, where 
 his brother Ernest was living. Again he opened a 
 studio, but of this period of his career and his work 
 I know nothing. I doubt whether Toronto at that 
 date was very responsive to the appeals of art. At 
 all events Krieghoff soon wiped the dust of the Lake 
 City from his feet and next he has opened a studio 
 in Montreal. Here he was more successful, and a 
 series of four pictures that he painted attracted a 
 good deal of attention. They were entitled Place 
 D'Armes, Driving Club Crossing St. Lawrence, Can- 
 adian Habitant Interior, Indian Wigwam. Krieg- 
 hoff had these four pictures lithographed in Ger- 
 many. Lord Elgin graciously accepted their dedi- 
 cation to himself. Subscriptions were taken at some 
 guineas a set, and Krieghoff found himself five or 
 six hundred pounds the richer. Thee pictures were 
 executed in 1848. Encouraged by this success 
 Krieghoff took a wife, a French Canadian lady, and 
 in the Montreal Dictory for 1849 I find him located 
 at Current St. Marys. 
 
 Somewhere about 1851 John S. Budden, of Quebec, 
 made the acquaintance of Krieghoff. This acquaint- 
 ance ripened into an enduring friendship, and in 
 1853, Krieghoff, with his wife and young daughter 
 removed to Quebec, and in the city directory for 
 1854- 5 I find 25 John Street given as his town address, 
 and Cap Rouge Road as his country residence. 
 
 Stimulated and encouraged by the enthusiasm 
 of Mr. Budden and the liberal purchases of his pic-
 
 70 
 
 tures by such men as James Gibb, J. R. Young, C. R. 
 O'Connor, D. D. Young, J. J. Foote, and also by 
 many of the British officers stationed in Quebec, 
 Krieghoff entered upon a most successful career. It 
 is true his pictures at that date brought small prices, 
 but again he was a rapid and prolific worker, and his 
 output was very considerable. He had, however, 
 the bad habit of making three or four replicas of any 
 picture that pleased him. Portrait painting in- 
 terested him not at all, although I have run across 
 three or four bearing his signature. I recall a por- 
 trait of the late A. J. Maxham, another of Col. F. 
 Turnbull when a lad the other names I have for- 
 gotten. 
 
 Possessed of a keen sense of humor, he found ex- 
 pression for it in his genre pictures of the amusing 
 life around him, and some of these paintings and 
 their lithographic reproductions are celebrated. Messrs 
 Thomas & Co., art dealers of Philadelphia, bought 
 many of Krieghoff's paintings to secure the right 
 to reproduce them in color or in black in white. Two 
 fine examples of Krieghoff's paintings are in the Wil- 
 statch collection now in memorial Hall, Fairmount, 
 Park, Philadelphia. One is an autumn and the 
 other a winter landscape. Montreal has a good many 
 genuine Krieghoffs, and a great many spurious ones. 
 To Mr. Angus Hooper fell the very remarkable piece 
 of good luck last year while in London of discovering, 
 in the shop of a dealer in odds and ends, some fifteen 
 Krieghoff all good examples. He purchased the 
 entire lot for less than the present value of one. They
 
 71 
 
 were without doubt from the collection of some offi- 
 cer deceased. 
 
 It was not unsual for Krieghoff whenever he had 
 an accumulation of paintings on hand to have them 
 sold at auction. I lately became possessed of the 
 catalogue of one of these sales in 1862. It may be 
 interesting to the present owners of these paintings 
 to know that the prices for which they were then sold 
 ranged from $12 to $20. These same pictures to- 
 day would bring from $100 to $300, and who can saj 7 
 that in another ten years even the latter prices will 
 will not be doubled. 
 
 The collection made by the late James Gibb, of 
 Quebec, and now in the possession of his widow, 
 (later Mrs. David Ross) is, by far the largest and finest 
 extant. It includes Krieghoff's magnum opus. " Af- 
 ter the Ball at Jolifous', Montmorenci." The early 
 dawn of a winter's morning, the crowd streaming 
 out of the old fashioned high stooped French inn 
 all in excellent humor and full of high spirits (and 
 other spirits) for the .drive back to Quebec. It is 
 replete with figures and ludicrous scenes, but withal 
 characteristic of the period, and the circumstance. 
 I have understood that $4,000 has been offered and 
 refused for this picture. 
 
 Let me now return to this sale in 1862. Here is 
 the catalogue in full :
 
 72 
 ATTRACTIVE AND IMPORTANT SALE 
 
 OF 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS 
 
 Being the remainder of the collection left unfinished 
 
 at the time of the previous sale, 
 
 belonging to 
 
 C. KRIEGHOFF, ESQ., 
 
 - AT- 
 
 SINCLAIR'S LATE STORE 
 
 NATIONAL BANK BUILDINGS, ST. JOHN ST. 
 
 ON TUESDAY NEXT, THE 23nD INSTANT. 
 
 THE PAINTINGS COMPRISES THE FOLLOWING I 
 
 Autumn, Lake Magog, 9 x 11. 
 
 Squaw, Winter, 9 x 11. 
 
 Indian, Winter, 9 x 11. 
 
 Autumn, Stream on the St. Maurice, Caribou, 
 
 13 x 18. 
 
 Sled, 13 x 18. 
 
 Derry's Bridge, Jacques Cartier, 9 x 13. 
 
 Winter Piece Log House, Going to Market, 
 
 14 x 21. 
 
 Winter Piece, Returning from Market, 21 x 28. 
 Autumn, 9 x 13. 
 
 Lake Memphremagog, Startled Caribous, 27 x 36 
 Sledge, Montmorenci, 13 x 18. 
 Squaw, Autumn, 9 x 11. 
 
 Interior Group of Canadians, Girl making Straw 
 Hats, etc., 23 x 19.
 
 73 
 
 Salmon Spearing, 12 x 16. 
 Lumberers' Ferry, 11 x 18. 
 Game Duck, Woodcock, etc., 20 x 25. 
 Red Sleigh, 9 x 13. 
 
 Winter, Mountains on the North Shore, below 
 Quebec, 15 x 17. 
 Autumn, 15 x 17. 
 Sleigh, Montmorenci, 9 x 13. 
 Autumn, Indians, Canoe, Caribou, 27 x 34. 
 Autumn Storm, 15 x 18. 
 Sunset Winter, Indian File, 14 x 21. 
 Autumn Indian with Caribou, 16 x 18. 
 Marine, 13 x 18. 
 Old Beggar, 9 x 11. 
 Canadian Woman, 9 x 11. 
 
 Canoe crossing through the ice, Quebec, 13 x 18. 
 Indian, 9 x 11. 
 
 Lake Laurent Autumn, 14 x 21. 
 Falls of Ste. Anne, Autumn, 18 x 27. 
 
 SALE AT ONE O'CLOCK, PRECISELY. 
 
 After which 
 
 A COLLECTION OF PROOF ENGRAVINGS, 
 CHROMO LITHOGRAPHS, ETC. 
 
 Mr. KRIEGHOFF being about to leave for Europe, 
 this will be the last opportunity for obtaining works 
 from his pencil. 
 
 TDE COLLECTION WILL BE ON VIEW ON MONDAY, 
 FROM TEN A.M., TILL FOUR P.M. 
 
 A. J. MAXHAM & Co., 
 Quebec, 15th December, 1862. A. & B.
 
 74 
 
 In 1864, Krieghoff was induced to go to 
 by his son-in-law, Count de Wendt, who had finan- 
 cial interests there. He found little to appeal to 
 him artistically in the new home, and illness preyed 
 upon him. Before the year closed he died suddenly 
 at his desk, with a half finished letter written to his 
 old friend, John S. Budden, of Quebec.
 
 WITH CHRISTOPHER NORTH IN HIS 
 SHOOTING JACKET 
 
 NGLISH readers are, as a rule, more or 
 less familiar with Christopher North's 
 Noctes Ambrosiana. We venture to 
 assert, however without much fear of 
 contradiction that but few persons here 
 have ever read his " Recreations " a se- 
 ries of sketches that first appeared in 
 Blackwood s Magazine some fifty years ago, charm- 
 ing and fascinating its readers, and since collected 
 into a work, termed the" British Essayists," which 
 continues to excite the admiration of the literary 
 world and all lovers of the beautiful in nature. John 
 Wilson, or as he is better known under his pseudonym 
 of Christopher North, was one of that brillant galaxy 
 of writers, scientists and reviewers who at one time 
 made Edinburgh the seat of learning in the British 
 Empire. Wilson's genius and versatility of talents 
 as displaped in his writings, and the beauty and 
 originality of his style, render him justly deserving 
 of the following beautiful and glowing tribute once 
 paid to Burke : 
 
 " He was a writer of the most splendid and un- 
 equaled powers, the fascination and magic of whose
 
 76 
 
 eloquence cannot be withstood. His impartial fancy 
 has laid all nature under tribute, and has collected 
 riches from almost every scene of the creation and 
 every walk of art. His images are so select, so rich 
 with colors dipt in Heaven, that whoever can read 
 his works without rapture may have merit as a rea- 
 soner, but must resign all pretentions to taste and 
 sensibility," 
 
 Even in his sporting sketches he has infused a 
 breeziness and freshness, such a boldness of treat- 
 ment and liveliness of thought, so powerful a real- 
 istic effect, as to elevate them into the foremost 
 rank of literary productions in the English language. 
 His spirit is so infectious that we are irresistibly 
 carried along with him in his somewhat erratic wan- 
 derings. Now it is over some moor that to our un- 
 educated eyes at first appears bleak and cheerless 
 and apparently lifeless, but which under his tutelage 
 and keen perception for the picturesque we find pos- 
 sessed of hidden charms that require but his subtle 
 power to unbosom and expose to our gaze. Mean- 
 while, he is busy with the dogs, and, as the birds are 
 pointed and flushed, shooting right and lift, still 
 keeping up a running fire of conversation and com- 
 ment. Occasionally a bird is missed, but he is never 
 disconcerted in the least, for, as he tell us, " We 
 shoot like scholars, philosophers and gentlemen as 
 we are, not like game-keepers or bagmen, holding 
 with Aristotle that all virtue consists in a middle 
 course ; and looking at us you have a sight
 
 77 
 
 " 'Of him who walks by glory and by day, 
 Following his dogs upon the mountain side.' " 
 
 A man evidently not shooting for a wager, but blazing 
 away at his own sweet will, and, without seeming 
 to know it, making a great noise in the world. 
 
 It is noon, and we have thrown ourselves down 
 upon a mossy bank beside a little tarn, and while 
 resting our wearied limbs after the hard morning's 
 tramp, our mind and soul are being refreshed by the 
 outpouring of that gifted, tutored and exuberant 
 mind. His discourse is of the moors, the dogs and 
 shooting, the various game and its habits, reminis- 
 censes o'f early youth, of companions and friends 
 famous in the world of letters, some pathetic tale 
 of peasant life, philosophy, poetry, mythology ; all 
 so happily blended that our interest never wanes, 
 but rather intensifies. There is, perhaps, a vein of 
 egotism in his composition, but so far from its being 
 a detraction from his attractions seems to be the 
 very soul of it. He is so humane. Only look at him 
 for a minute, and liking becomes love love be- 
 comes veneration. 
 
 Our space will not permit us to give many exam- 
 ples of his style, and those we do must necessarily 
 be defective from their dismemberment from the 
 whole, as the unity of a beautiful picture is des- 
 troyed if cut into sections. 
 
 Let us introduce him to our readers camped upon 
 the moors, and though the day is' just breaking, still 
 shall we find him soliloquizing even at this early 
 hour ; but
 
 78 
 
 " Ho, ho ! gentlemen ; so you have taken the 
 precaution to sleep in your clothes. The sun, like 
 Maga, is mounting higher and higher in heaven, so 
 let us beseech you to breakfast and then off on the 
 moors. 
 
 " Substantial breakfast ! by Dugald Dhu, and by 
 Donald Roy and by Hamish Bhan, heaped up like 
 icebergs round the pole. How nobly stands in the 
 centre that ten-gallons cask of Glenlivet ! Proud is 
 that round to court his shadle. That twenty-pound 
 salmon lies beneath it even as yesterday he lay 
 beneath the cliff, while a column of light falls from 
 him on that grouse-pie. Is not that ham beautiful 
 in the calm consciousness of his protection ? That 
 tongue mutely eloquent in his praise ? Tap him 
 with your knuckles, tenderly as if you loved him 
 and that with all your heart and soul you do and 
 is not the response firm as from the trunk of the 
 gnarled oak ? He is yet l Virgin of Proserpine 1 '- 
 by jove he is ! no wanton lip has ever touched his 
 mouth so chaste ; so knock out the bung and let us 
 hear him gurgle." 
 
 "The camp beds tidily covered and arranged along 
 their own department of the circle ; quaint dresses 
 hanging from loops ; all the various appareling 
 of hunter, shooter, fisher, and forester, rods, baskets 
 and nets occupying their picturesque division ; fow- 
 ling-pieces, double and single, rejoicing through the 
 oil-smooth brownness of their barrels in the exquisite 
 workmanship of a Manton and a Lancaster ; Amer- 
 ican rifles with their stocks more richly silver-chased
 
 79 
 
 "than you could have thought within reach of the arts 
 in that young and prosperous land ; duck guns whose 
 formidable and fatal length had in Lincolnshire often 
 swept the fens ; and on each side of the door a brass 
 cannonade on idle hours to awaken the echoes ; 
 sitting erect on their hurdies deer-hound, grey-hound, 
 lurches, pointer, setter, spaniel, and varmint, and 
 though last not least, O'Bronte, watching Christo- 
 pher with his steadfast eye, slightly raised his large 
 hanging triangulnr ears, his Thessalian bull dewlaps 
 betokening keen anxiety to be off and away on the 
 mountains." 
 
 In the course of his wanderings on the moors 
 during the day North meets a party of unlicensed 
 shooters, and the Glenlivet having made him rather 
 garrulous, he proceeds to deliver them a sermon on 
 the primnry physical wants of man and his subsequent 
 advancement, and so interested does he become 
 in his subject that he fails to observe that one by one 
 the party have stolen away, leaving him alone with 
 Hamish, his gillie, and his dumb friends the dogs 
 and they fast asleep. He concludes, however, in 
 his usual happy manner : 
 
 " Often has it been our lot by our conversational 
 powers to set the table on -a snore. The more stirring 
 the theme, the more soporific the sound of our silver 
 voice. Look there, we beseech you ! In a small spot 
 of stationary sunshine lie Hamish, Surefoot, O'Bronte, 
 Ponto, Piro, and Basta, all sound asleep. Dogs are 
 troubled sleepers, but these four are now like the 
 dreamless dead. Horses, too, seem often to be
 
 80 
 
 witch-ridden in their sleep. But at this moment 
 Surefoot has stretched out more like a stone than 
 a shelty in the land of the living. As for Hamish, 
 were he to lie so braxy-like by himself on the hill he 
 would be awakened by the bill of the raven digging 
 into his sockets. We are Morpheus and Orpheus 
 in one incarnation of the very pink of poppy the 
 true spirit of opium of laudanum the concentrated 
 essence of the black drop the gnome. " 
 
 " Indeed, gentlemen, you haye reason to be ash- 
 amed of yourselves but where is the awkward 
 squad ? Clean gone. They have stolen a march 
 on us, and while we have been preaching they have 
 been poaching, sans mandate of Marquis or Monzies, 
 We may catch them ere close of day, and if they have 
 a smell of slaughter we shall crack their sconces with 
 our crutch. No apologies, Hamish, 'tis only making 
 matters worse, but we expected better things of the 
 dogs. O'Bronte, fie ! fie ! sirrah. Tom sire would 
 not have fallen asleep during a speech of ours and 
 such a speech ! he would have sat it out without 
 winking, at each more splendid passage testifying 
 his delight by a yowl." 
 
 Dogs, horse, servants and poachers are we know 
 unappreciative listeners, but never, Christopher ? 
 \vrre we given to somnolence in thy company ;and 
 often has the night been far spent before we could 
 tear ourself away from the magic charm of your voice 
 You but make such an accusation only to excite our 
 indignation and denial. 
 
 We shall not, however, continue^furtherwith him
 
 81 
 
 upon the moors, but, in the comfort of an arm-chair, 
 listen attentively to what he has to tell about birds ; 
 for, as we have before remarked, he was a close ob- 
 server of all animated nature, and he has recorded 
 the results of his observations in so pleasant, readable 
 a manner, as to render them at once interesting to 
 the general reader, as well as to the student of or- 
 nithology ; and he never fails to inspire his reader 
 with a desire for a more intimate acquaintance with 
 the feathered sonsgters, and to instill habits of closer 
 observation : 
 
 " How we come to love the birds of Bewick, and 
 White, and the two Wilsons, and Montague, and 
 Mudie, and Knapp, and Selby, and Swanson, and 
 Audubon, and many others familiar with their haunts 
 and habits, their affections and their passions, till 
 we feel that they are indeed our fellow-creatures, 
 and part of one wise and wonderful system ! If there 
 be sermons in stones, what think ye of the hymns 
 and psalms, matin and vesper of the lark that at 
 heaven's gate sings of the wren who pipes her 
 thanksgiving as the slant sunbeam shoots athwart 
 the mossy portal of the cave in whose fretted roof 
 she builds her nest above the waterfall ! In cave 
 roof ! Yea, we have seen it so just beneath the 
 cornice. But most frequently! we have detected 
 her procreant cradle on old mossy stump, moulder- 
 ing walls or living rock sometimes in cleft of yew- 
 tree or hawthorn for hang the globe with its im- 
 perceptible orifice in the sunshine or the storm, and 
 St. Catherine sits within, heedless of the outer world
 
 82 
 
 counting her beads, with her sensitive breast that 
 broods in bliss over the priceless pearls. 
 
 " Aye, the men we have named, and many other 
 blameless idolaters of nature, have worshiped her 
 in a truly religious spirit, and have taught us their 
 religion. All our great poets have loved the minne- 
 singers of the woods Thompson and Cowper and 
 Wordsworth, as dearly as Spencer and Shakespeare 
 and Milton. From the inarticulate language of the 
 grove they have inhaled the enthusiasm that ins- 
 pired some of the finest of their own immortal strains. 
 " Lonely wanderer of nature " must every poet be ; 
 and though often self wrapt in his wanderings through 
 a spiritual world of his own, yet as some fair flower 
 silently asks his eye to look on it, some glad bird 
 his ear solicits with a song, how intense is then his 
 perception his emotion how profound while his 
 spirit in thus appealed to, through all its human 
 sensibilities, by the beauty and the joy perpetual 
 even in the most solitary places !" 
 
 North is no admirer of those gentry who fill the 
 journals with their anecdotage of animals, who, 
 instead of teaching anything of value, only mislead 
 the cursory reader and disgust the student ; but 
 when they begin about birds he boils over with rage, 
 and thus vents his feelings : 
 
 " We can bear this libellous gossip least patiently 
 of all with birds. If a ninny have some stories about 
 a wonderful goose, let him out with them, and then 
 waddle away with his fat friend into the stackyard, 
 where they may take sweet counsel together in the
 
 83 
 
 <l fausse house." Let him, with open mouth and 
 grozet eyes, say what he chooses of " Pretty Poll," 
 as she clings in her cage by beak or claws to stick 
 or wire, and in her naughty vocabulary let him hear 
 the impasssioned eloquence of an Aspasia inspiring 
 a Pericles. But unless his crown itch for our crutch, 
 let him spare the linnet on the briery bush among 
 the broom the laverock on the dewy braird or in 
 the rosy cloud the swan on her shadow the eagle 
 in his eyrie, in the sun or at sea." 
 
 In the following extract there is so exquisitely 
 poetical a treatment that it forms, in opinion, one 
 of his most successful efforts in our pen-painting : 
 
 "Hark to the loud, clear, mellow, bold song of the 
 black-bird ! There he flits along upon a strong wind, 
 with his yellow bill visible in the distance, and disap- 
 pears in the silent wood. Not long silent. It is a spring 
 day in our imagination his clay wall nest holds 
 his mate at the foot of the silver fir, and heis]now 
 perched on a pinnacle. That thrilling hymn will go 
 vibrating down the stem till it reaches her brooding 
 breast. The whole vernal air is filled with the mur- 
 mur and glitter of insects ; but the blackbird's song 
 is over all other symptoms of love and life, and seems 
 to call upon the leaves to unfold into happiness. It 
 is on one tree-top conspicuous among many thou- 
 sands on the fine breast of wood here and there 
 a pine, mingling not unmeetly with the prevailing 
 oak that the forest minstrel sits in his inspirations. 
 The rock above is one which we have often climbed. 
 There lies the glorious loch and all its islands one
 
 84 
 
 dearer than the rest to the eye and imagination, with 
 its old religious house, year after year crumbling, 
 unheeded, into more entire ruin. Far away a sea 
 of mountains with all their billowing summits dis- 
 tinct in the sky, and now uncertain and changeful 
 as the clouds. Yonder castle stands well on the 
 peninsula among the trees which the herons inhabit 
 Those coppice woods on the other shore, stealing 
 up to the heathery rocks and sprinkled birches, are 
 the haunts of the roe. That great glen that stretches 
 sullenly away into the distant darkness has been for 
 ages the birth and death-place of the red-deer. The 
 cry of an eagle ! There he hangs, poised in the sun- 
 light, and now he flies off to the sea. But, again the 
 song of the blackbirds rises " like a stream of rich 
 distilled perfumes," and our heart comes back to 
 him upon the pinnacle of his own home-tree. The 
 source of song is yet in the happy creature's heart, 
 but the song itself has subsided, like a rivulet that 
 has been rejoicing in a sudden shower among the hills; 
 the bird drops among the balmy branches, and the 
 other faint songs, which that bold anthem had 
 drowned, are heard at a distance, and seem to en- 
 croach every moment on the silence." 
 
 The further we advance with our author, the greater 
 the difficulty we experience in selecting examples, 
 as his passages are all beautifull alike, and equally 
 challenge admiration. At random, listen to what 
 he says about the " gray lintie." 
 
 " Methinks we hear the song of the gray lintie, the 
 darling bird of Scotland. None other is more ten-
 
 85 
 
 derly sung of in our old ballads. When the simple 
 and fervent love poets of our pastoral tunes first 
 applied to the maiden the words " my bonnie birdie/' 
 they must have been thinking of the gray lintie, its 
 plumage ungaudy and soberly pure, its shape elegant 
 yet unobtrusive, and its song various without any 
 effort, now rich, gay, sprightly, but never rude nor 
 riotous, now tender, almost mournful, but never 
 gloomy or desponding. So, too, are all its habits, 
 endearing and delightful. It is social, yet not averse 
 to solitude, singing often in groups and as often by 
 itself, in the furze brakes or on the briery knoll. 
 You often find the lintie's nest in the most solitary 
 places in some small, self-sown clump of trees 
 by the bank of a wild hill-stream ; and just as often 
 you find it in the hedge-room of the cottage garden, 
 or in a bower within, or even on an old gooseberry 
 bush that has grown into a sort of tree." 
 
 A tarn full of ducks must be rather an exciting 
 sight, we must confess, and we can easily understand 
 the enthusiasm of so ardent a sportsman as North 
 would be likely to break out somewhere, especially 
 after the first dozen birds have ben bagged. 
 
 " There goes our crutch, Hamish, whirling aloft 
 in the sky a rainbow flight, even like the ten-pound 
 hammer from the fling of George Scougal at the St. 
 Ronan's games. Our gout is gone so is our asthma, 
 eke our rheumatism and like an eagle we have re- 
 newed our youth. There is hop, step and jump for 
 you, Hamish we should not fear, young and agile 
 as you are, buck, to give^you a yard. But now for
 
 86 
 
 the flappers. Pointers, all stir your stumps and into 
 the water. This is rich. Why, the reeds are as full 
 of flappers as of frogs. If the fools can flp, they 
 don't know it. Why, there is a whole mousquito 
 fleet of yellow boys not a month old ! What a pro- 
 lific old lady she must have been to have kept on breed- 
 ing till July ! By the creak and cry of the cradle 
 of thy first-born, Hamish, spare the plummage on 
 her yearning and quaking breast. The little yellow 
 images have all melted away, and are now, in holy 
 cunning of instinct, deep down beneath the waters, 
 shifting for themselves among the very mud at the 
 bottow of the reeds. Bv and by they will be floating 
 with but the points of their bills above the surface, 
 invisible among the air bells. The parent duck has 
 also disappeared ; the drake you disposed of, Ham- 
 ish, as the coward was lifting up his lumbering body 
 with fat doup and long neck in air to seek safer skies. 
 We male creatures drakes, ganders and men alike 
 what are we when affection pleads when in compa- 
 rison with females ! In our passions we are braye, 
 but these satiated, we turn upon our heel and dis- 
 appear from danger like dastards. But doves and 
 ducks and women are fearless in affection to the 
 very death. 
 
 " Not the best practice this in the world for pointer 
 and it may teach them bad habits upon the hill ; 
 but in some situations all dogs and men are alike, 
 and cross them as you will, not a breed but shows 
 a taint of original sin when under a temptation 
 sufficiently strong to bring it out. But now we
 
 87 
 
 shall cease our fire and leave the few flappers that 
 are stil alive to their own meditatons. Our conduct 
 for the last hour must seemed to them no less un- 
 accountable than alarming, and something to quack 
 over during the rest of the season." 
 
 What a vivid and realistic picture he presents to 
 our gaze in his description of a sunset upon the 
 mountains ! It is as finished as a landscape painting 
 of a Turner or a Thompson : 
 
 " Call not these vapors waves : for movement 
 there is none among the ledges, and ridges, and roads, 
 and avenues, and galleries, and groves, and houses, 
 and castles, and fairy palaces all framed of mist. 
 Far up among and above that wondrous region, 
 through which you hear voices of waterfalls deep- 
 ening the silence, behold hndreds of mountain tops 
 blue, purple, violet for the sun is shining straight 
 on some and aslant on others, and on those not at 
 all : nor can the shepherd at your side, though he 
 has lived among them all his life, till after ponder- 
 ing a long time, tell you the names of those most 
 familiar to him ; for they seem to have all inter- 
 chaged sites and altitudes, and Black Benhum him- 
 self, the eagle-breeder, looks so serenely in his rain- 
 bow that you might almost mistake him for Ben 
 Loney or the Hill of Hinds. 
 
 " Have you not seen sunsets in which the mount- 
 ains were embedded in masses of clouds all burning 
 and blazing yes, blazing with unimaginable mix- 
 tures of all the colors that ever were born, intensify- 
 ing into a glory that absolutely became as insupport-
 
 88 
 
 able to the soul as insufferable to the eyes, and that 
 left the eyes for hours after you have retreated from 
 the supernatural scene, even when shut, all filled 
 with floating films of cross-lights, cutting the sky 
 imagery into gorgeous fragments ? And were not 
 the mountains of such sunsets, whether they were 
 of cloud or land, sufficiently vast for your utmost 
 capacities and powers of delight and joy, longing 
 to communicate with the region then felt to be in 
 very truth Heaven ? Nor could the spirit entranced, 
 in admiration conceive at that moment any heaven 
 beyond, while the senses themselves seemed to have 
 had given them a revelation that as it was created 
 could but be felt by an immortal spirit." 
 
 He is not without much of the dry humor peculiar 
 to his country, as his account of the peculiarities and 
 characteristics of Muckle-Mouthed Meg, as the old 
 manse gun was affectionately called by her enthu- 
 siastic admirers, sufficiently shows. This venerable 
 relic of the seven years' war had served to initiate 
 several generations of boys into the sacred and 
 mysterious order of sportsmen. 
 
 " The musket, who, as we have often since thought, 
 must surely have been a blunderbuss in disguise, 
 was a perfect devil for kicking when she received 
 her discharge ; so much so, indeed, that it was 
 reckoned creditable for the smaller boys not to be 
 knocked down by the recoil. She had a very wide 
 mouth, and was thought by us 'an awful scatterer' ; 
 3 qualification which was considered of the highest 
 merit. She carried anything we choose to put in
 
 89 
 
 her, there still being of all her performances a loud 
 and favorable report balls, buttons, chucky stones, 
 slugs or hail. She had but two faults she had got 
 addicted, probably in early life, to burning, priming, 
 and to another of hanging fire habits of which it 
 was impossible, for us at least, to break her by the 
 most assiduous hammering of many a new series 
 of flints ; but such was the high place she justly 
 occupied in the affection and admiration of us all 
 that faults like these did not in the least detract 
 from her general character. Our delight when she 
 did absolutely, positively and bond-fide go off was 
 in proportion to the comparative rarity of that oc- 
 currence, and as to hanging fire, why, we used to 
 let her take her own time, contriving to keep her 
 at the level as long as our strength sufficed, eyes 
 shut, teeth set, face grinning, and head slightly 
 averted over the right shoulder till Muckle-Mouthed 
 Meg, like other Scottish females, took things leisurely, 
 and went off at last with an explosion like the blow- 
 ing up of a rock." 
 
 With what tenacity the sportsman of the old 
 school clung to the old-accepted theories, and decried 
 all innovations as inventions of the devil, designed 
 only to mislead and delude the innocent and in- 
 experienced ! We find North uttering this forcible 
 protest against the percussion gun : 
 
 " Till sixty we used a single barrel ; at seventy 
 we took a double-barrel, but dang all detonators, 
 we stick to the flint. ' Flint,' says Col. Hawker, 
 1 shoots strongest into a bird.' A percussion gun
 
 90 
 
 is quicker, but flint is fast enough, and it does in- 
 deed argue rather a confusion of ideas to find fault 
 with lightning for being too slow. With respect to 
 the flash in the pan, it is but a fair warning to the 
 birds ducks, for example, to dive if they can and 
 get out of the way of mischief. It is giving birds 
 a chance for their lives, and it is not ungenerous to 
 grant it." 
 
 When old age and gout sadly bring him to a real- 
 izing sense of his growing infirmities, we find him 
 more frequently sitting beside some loch or stream, 
 Lascelle in hand, or recalling the happy days of his 
 youth when bold and daring, and fleet of foot as the 
 antelope upon the hills ; now, alas ! dim and withered 
 as a stalk from which the winter' winds have blown 
 all the blossoms. 
 
 " O Heaven, that from our bright and shining years 
 Age would but take the things youth needed not." 
 
 But the old spirit is still strong within him, and the 
 rise of a large fish in the pool sets all his blood ting- 
 ling ; and forgetful of Lascelle, gout and all else, 
 he despatches Hamish, his faithful servitor, for his 
 rod, and the succeeding half-hour is best told in his 
 own words : 
 
 " We are in a bloody mood, and shall not leave 
 this pool without twenty mortal murders upon our 
 hands. Jump away, Trouts without any bowels 
 of compassion for the race of flies. Devouring 
 ephemerals ! Cannot you suffer the poor insects 
 to sport out their day ? They must be insipid
 
 LAKE TROUT.
 
 91 
 
 eating ; but here are some savory exceedingly it 
 is needless to mention their name that carry sauce 
 piquante in their tails. Do try the taste of this bob- 
 ber but any of the three you please. There ! 
 hold fast, Kirby, for that is a whopper. A mort ! 
 we did not suppose there were any in the river. Why, 
 he springs as if he were a Fish ? Go it again, my 
 beauty. We ourselves could jump a bit in our day 
 nearly four times our own length but we never 
 could clear our own height, nor within half a foot of 
 it ; while you, our Hearty, though not two feet 
 long, certainly do the perpendicular to the tune of 
 four from tail-fin to water-surface your snout 
 being six nearer to the sky than the foam bells you 
 break ki your descent into your native element. 
 Feeble now as the dying gladiator, the arena swims 
 around him, and he around the arena, 'till sailing 
 with snout shoreward at sea in his own pool he 
 absolutely rolls in convulsions in between our very 
 feet, and we, unprepared for such a procedure, hastily 
 retreating, discover that our joints are not as supple 
 as of yore, and play cloit on our back among the 
 gowans. O'Bronte tooths him by the cerebellum 
 and carries him up-brae in his mouth like a mawkin. 
 About six pounds. 
 
 '' We shall be made to pay for this yet whew \ 
 there was a twinge ; that big toe of ours we'll war- 
 rant is as red as fire, and we bitterly confess we de- 
 serve the gout. Och ! och ! och ! "
 
 "CANOODLING VERSUS CANOEING " 
 
 HE was a pretty young thing of not over 
 twenty. Her dress was the simple one 
 of the healthy outdoor girl and as she 
 disdained a hat her rosy cheeks were 
 deepened by a good coat of tan. Some- 
 how I didn't feel at all shy in her pre- 
 sence and we soon chummed up on the 
 common ground of canoeing. She liked a canoe and 
 she frankly stated that she was satisfied, she could 
 handle anything in that line that would float. " But, 
 added she, " I am not going in so much for canoeing 
 this summer as canoodling. It is great when you 
 understand it. Do you canoodle, Mr. Scribe ? Oh, 
 I forgot, though, you are married, and I don't suppose 
 married ladies care to have their husbands go canood- 
 ling." 
 
 " But, my dear Miss America," I exclaimed, " I 
 really don't know what you mean by canoodling." 
 
 " Of course not, you poor old thing," replied my 
 vivacious young friend, " how could you. I've only 
 lately introduced it on the Lake. It's my own inven- 
 tion and I may take out a patent on it. Pa takes 
 out a patent on all his inventions and then sells out 
 -to some Trust. I am helping blow in some of the
 
 93 
 
 last ten thousand he made on his 'gas adjuster.' 
 I guess I've got some of pa's talent, only I'm a woman 
 and have to ' hold myself in,' as pa says, but I tell 
 you when I get into Canada and catch a few whiffs 
 of good old ozone from these mountains why I just 
 have to let myself out a little and go to inventing things.. 
 
 " It didn't take me long after I got here to see that 
 the girls were likely to go to waste unless something 
 was done. The men when they came out from town, 
 paired off and went a-fishing and they'd get back 
 after dark smelling awfully of Scotch and too tired, 
 poor fellows, to make themselves agreeable to us girls. 
 
 So I thought it all out and then I called a meeting 
 of the girls behind closed doors. I appointed myself 
 ' chairman ' before laying my scheme before the 
 others. It kind of took their breath away at first, 
 but when they caught on they were the most enthu- 
 siastic crowd you ever saw. We at once proceeded 
 to organize the ' Canoodling Club,' patent applied for.. 
 The only qualification for membership was the ability 
 to paddle a canoe. By Saturday noon we were ready 
 to commence proceedings. We took the hotel man- 
 agement into our confidence, and the manager grinned 
 his approval. We hired every boat and canoe for 
 two days. When the train arrived at 3 p.m., every 
 girl, with her canoeing dress on, was drawn up in. 
 line on the platform, paddle in hand. Canoe, sir ?.' 
 Canoe, sir ? without a smile on the face of a girl or 
 any look of recognition. The men grinned and looked 
 sheepish and all of them passed into the hotel office- 
 where I stood waiting for further developments.' r
 
 94 
 
 " Got a canoe for me and Jim ?" said young Mr. 
 Quebec to the manager. 
 
 " Really, sir, I do not know," replied our accom- 
 plice, " I must refer you to Miss America, who has 
 that matter in charge." 
 
 Mr. Quebec turned to me with a " Oh ! how-de-do, 
 Miss America, I don't think I quite understand ? " 
 
 " Nothing so simple, Mr. Quebec," I replied in my 
 sweetest tones, " the Canoodling Club of which I have 
 the honor to be manager has hired all the canoes for 
 the week end, but we will be charmed to let you 
 singly have a canoe. By our rules you will have to 
 take a lady member of the club as your canoeman, 
 but for this we make no extra charge." 
 
 " Oh, I say now, Miss America, what's the joke ? " 
 replied the puzzled Mr. Quebec. 
 
 " Joke, Mr. Quebec ? It's as serious a proposition 
 as you were ever up against. Do you wish a canoe ? 
 If so, I'll call Miss Township to take down your 
 fishing kit." 
 
 " I'd kind of fixed it so that the right girl got the 
 right man." 
 
 "Mr. Quebec made up his mind to engage a canoe, 
 and the other men soon fell into line when they too 
 saw there was no help for it. Inside of an hour every 
 canoe was off, and every girl had received her final 
 instructions that her canoe and its passenger were to 
 be back for dinner at 8 p.m. sharp, as dancing com- 
 menced at nine. Well, everything worked to a charm 
 except as to the fishing and numbers of fish caught. 
 The girls said it was all the fault of the men, that
 
 95 
 
 there were no trout for breakfast, for notwithstanding 
 that they had been guided to the best fishing grounds 
 they preferred to loll in the bottom of the canoes and 
 smoke and talk rot about the scenery, but no matter 
 they made amends later on at the dance. 
 
 Before the men left for town on the Monday morning 
 every canoe was engaged for the week end, and the 
 Canoodling Club was a success. We organized picnics 
 and ' camping outs ' with old lady chaperones, and 
 half a dozen of the girls have confidentially told me 
 that their angling fares had proposed and been 
 accepted, but this of course was no part of my pro- 
 gramme when I organized the " Canoodling Club." 
 
 Yes, I'm coming again next year to attend the 
 weddings and again to manage our club."
 
 TREASURES TROVE 
 
 N a modest way I have been a collector 
 of Canadian coins, old Canadian prints, 
 maps, books, curios, etc., because of the 
 delight I have always felt in all things 
 that have any relation to the times of 
 long ago in our Province of Quebec, 
 and not because of the mere collector's craze to fill 
 out a list or catalogue. I don't care a rap that I am 
 lacking many numbers. I joy in whatever comes to 
 my creel and I trust to the chance of fate that fills it, 
 and if it is sometimes partially empty, I do not repine, 
 but look for better days. Curious odds and ends 
 have come my way by merest accident, and I am 
 pleased in their possession because of relation to 
 something that has a story attached. When my 
 good friend Cyrille Tessier presented me with a string 
 of various makes of wampum, it was the retelling 
 to me a period of my youth that lent to the gift a 
 charm beyond price. When a mere boy I lived in 
 one of the wildest sections of mountainons Northern 
 New Jersey. Game and fish were abundant and I 
 became a hunter and fisherman in the off hours from 
 a pretty strenuous school life. One wild boisterous
 
 OLD CHATEU ST. LOUIS.
 
 97 
 
 trout stream had a peculiar fascination for me. Near 
 the close of its mad hill tumbling, but before it 
 emptied into the bigger river, stood an old-fashioned 
 water wheel mill. I ended my fishing in the small 
 mill pond, and if good fortune had smiied upon me, 
 I would venture into the mill and make peace offer- 
 ing to its proprietor in the form of a mess of trout, 
 whereupon he would graciously permit me the run of 
 the establishment even to the trying of my prentice 
 hand on making wampum. His name was Campbell 
 and he had been many years with the Hudson's Bay 
 Company on the Northwest coast, where wampum 
 ruled as the circulating medium. He learned the 
 Indians's crude way of making it, and then he left 
 the company's service and came to the East to en- 
 gage in its manufacture because of the greater facility 
 in securing the shells necessary for the various sorts 
 used by the Indians in barter and for decoration. 
 Work was never so pressing that he couldn't take 
 time for a long smoke while he told me of his adven- 
 tures as trapper, hunter, trader and adventurer in 
 the untrodden wilderness. I was an attentive and 
 appreciative listener, and the old man's smoke ended 
 he would say : " Now youngster I am going to start 
 the wheel and if you would like to run that borer, 
 go ahead." I did very often run the horer and the 
 polisher and several other small machines until at 
 last I could turn out a crude piece of wampum. I 
 am quite convinced therefore that Mr. Tessier's 
 gift contains some of my own handiwork, At least 
 I am going to think so, and say so until in time it will
 
 98 
 
 become a fixed fact in my mind. And who will dare 
 contradict me ? 
 
 A country neighbor, a dear old fellow of some 
 eighty odd years with a long memory of the times of his 
 youth, and of whom I am never tired of listening 
 to as he discourses, once brought me a Christmas 
 offering that tickled me exceedingly. It was a very 
 rusty tin lanthorn such as our grandfathers used, 
 full of little punctured holes to emit light from a 
 weak tallow dip inside. How our forefathers must 
 have groped about in the half dark. And this leads 
 me to speak of an old flint and steel that came to me 
 with a history most interesting but far too lengthy 
 for this article. It also recalls a curious custom 
 that prevailed in our back country districts at the 
 period of my youth, which it may not be uninterest- 
 ing to relate. Matches were then scarce, and locks 
 on doors unknown outside the cities. A traveller 
 on the roads by night in winter weather whenever 
 he wanted to warm himself or light his pipe, entered 
 the nearest house by simply lifting the latch of the 
 door and entering. On the top of the three-decker 
 stove was a small pair of tongs with which he could 
 extract a coal from the fire for his pipe. Then 
 warming liimself he would depart his way without 
 disturbing the inmates and with no thought of leaving 
 a card. If the bon-homme of the house awakened 
 at the intrusion of a midnight caller he got out of bed 
 for the pleasure of a smoke with the visitor and the 
 exchange of gossip. I have several of these old pipe 
 tongs given me at different times by some old ha-
 
 99 
 
 bitant friend who knew my penchant for such things. 
 I delight to use one at my open fire of a night when 
 storms howl without. The coal of fire from a birch 
 log is certain to recall memories of long ago days 
 which I proceed to retell to the family circle for the 
 hundreth time. As a rnle how patient the family 
 is with our twice told tales, but I fear oft'tim'es we 
 try our friends. I say we because I am not the sole 
 offender in the universe. 
 
 Once, when having to pass the night in a settlers 
 log house on the outskirts of civilization, the good 
 wife of the rude homestead served my grillade on a 
 most beautiful plate of Crown Derby. Enquiry on 
 my part brought the information that my hostess' 
 mother had brought a half dozen such plates from 
 England with her, and at her death the sons and 
 daughters each took one. I was heartless enough 
 to propose an exchange for a dozen plain delf, and 
 my offer was accepted then and there. I haven't 
 succeeded in locating the remaining five plates 
 although I made search. They are perhaps on the 
 " dump " of the smashed and cast aways. My Gipsy 
 jug, a large one in putty color, made by Jones and 
 Walley, Cobridge, England, July, 1st, 1842, I picked 
 up on the beach at Cap Rouge with a broken handle, 
 but the handle was found near by and the jug restored 
 by the deft hand of Cote is a joy to me as it supple- 
 ments another jug by the same makers, called the 
 Marriage of Miles Standish, but in grey blue. 
 
 Has any one of my readers ever seen what is known 
 as the Quebec plate ? It is in the blue ware and
 
 100 
 
 made in the early part of the 19' century by one of 
 the firms of English potters. It is extremely rare. 
 The print is a view of Quebec. I have seen the 
 engraving of this plate, but have never stumbled 
 across the plate itself. From 1815 to 1825 there 
 were a great many American subjects on table and 
 other ware. Our local pottery at Cap Rouge, long 
 since torn down, turned out some rude delf with 
 relief designs. One little yellow jug in my possession, 
 bears on its side a Crusader riding tilt. On the bot- 
 tom, also in relief, are the words Cap Rouge Pottery- 
 no date. Another and larger jug has a beaver for 
 its decoration. The forms of both these jugs are 
 very good. It was only after some ten years of 
 search that I secured these two specimens. 
 
 A very short time ago, by the investment of an 
 quarter, I secured the three first volumes of " Maple 
 Leaves," by Sir Jas. M. LeMoine. Booksellers 
 would have asked somewhere in the neighborhood 
 of $20 for this lot, but it was not so much my bargain 
 that pleased me, as the fact that these three volumes 
 completed my set of this series. 
 
 I once came into possession of the first volume 
 of Bartlett's beautifully illustrated work, " Syria 
 and the Holy Land," and there the matter stood for 
 several years when a near relative returned from 
 England, and presented me with the second vol., 
 which she had picked up in a farm house down in 
 Kent, and the people told her that they had never 
 had the first volume. 
 
 Rare and valuable books are ruthlessly destroyed
 
 101 
 
 by print dealers for the sake of the engravings for 
 print collecting is quite a fad now-a-clays, and when 
 I say print I mean to include the steel engraving, 
 the lithograph, the wood cut and colored lithograph. 
 The foundation of my Canadian collection was a pur- 
 chase some twenty-five years ago from a little old 
 gentleman living in a New England village that I had 
 occasion to visit several times. This lot had some 
 good and rare prints in it, so I went on collecting 
 others as they came my way. The prints of Quebec 
 from Charlevoix. Le Hontan and others of the early 
 travellers in the New World, are most curious. 
 Then there is an interesting series about 1759-63, 
 from the English magazines of that period, besides 
 the Shortt and Smith sets of large prints woodcuts. 
 In the early part of the 19th century Herriot, Lam- 
 bert, Bouchette and other supply a good many from 
 their books of travel. It may be news to some collect- 
 ors to know that Herriot's publishers issued 100 
 copies each of the principal engravings in the book 
 done on heavy woodcut paper. Sir Jas. M. LeMoine 
 has two of these and I have another. Mine shows 
 Quebec from Point Levis. Later several engravers 
 settled in Quebec notably Smilie and A. Bourne, 
 A few of their Quebec engravings are most interesting. 
 That of the Tandem Club Drive swinging around 
 the Place d'Armes after a drawing by W. Wallace 
 is capital. 
 
 Next in 1840 came Bartlett's sumptuous work, 
 "Canadian Scenery," in two quarto volumes with 
 their hundreds of finely executed steel engravings.
 
 102 
 
 Col. Cockburn's Quebec series of color lithographs, 
 by Sarony & Co., New York, are valuable and in 
 teresting because of their truth to the points of view. 
 Coke Smyth is responsible for a large bound folio 
 of 23 lithographs of Canadian Scenery. Several of 
 these pertain to Quebec and vicinity. It was pub- 
 lished in London. " Recollections of Canada " is 
 an oblong quarto of amusing sketches of Quebec and 
 its life also of the work at the Levis Fortifications. 
 It was published in London in 1873. The artist and 
 writer were Lieut. Carlile, R.A., and Lieut.-Col. 
 Martindal, C.B. 
 
 " Picturesque Canada," edited by Principal Grant 
 of Queen's University, a large quarto work published 
 in parts by subscription, contains many Quebec 
 views of considerable interest. 
 
 Since these publications photo engraving has 
 materially lessened the cost of illustration and a host 
 of Quebec Illustrateds " have appeared of varying 
 value for the moment, but in the future who knows 
 but what they may possess a wondrous charm to our 
 descendants. 
 
 I have rambled somewhat too long perhaps about 
 the prints, and the illustrated books about Quebec, 
 but in extenuation of my garrulity on the subject 
 I know the very general interest in such things, for 
 there is scarcely a household that does not contain 
 some framed pictures of local scenes and places. As 
 all is fish that comes to my net in old things, I am 
 going to speak of about 100 ancient wood cuts of the 
 principal events in English history down to about
 
 103 
 
 1 500 A. D. The artist had the crudest ideas of draw', ng 
 and perspective, but his imagination ran riot, and the 
 results are wildly weird. I gathered in this set of 
 prints, mixed in with a lot of rubbish, at a sale in 
 Quebec. At another sale I became the owner of 
 about sixty wood cuts, colored by hand, of old Lon- 
 don and Paris. They are particularly interesting 
 though crudely colored. Mrs. W. Macpherson and 
 Major A. E. Doucet also possess a similar set. If it 
 is not out of place here I might mention Mrs. Mac- 
 pherson, Sir Jas. M. LeMoine, Col. Neilson, Cyrille 
 Tessier, Herbert M. Price and Phileas Gagnon as 
 enthusiastic collectors of Quebec and other prints. 
 
 Coins and medals have a lessened number of de- 
 votees. I have never seriously enlisted in their 
 ranks, but I can quite understand their devotion 
 to the quest and its great teaching of history. A 
 coin collector is an historian. Epochs, reigns, dy- 
 nasties and all sorts of other knowledge must be 
 his or he fails dismally, therefore I dropped out of 
 the long distance running as quite beyond my powers, 
 but I have taken a " flyer " into Canadian coins in a 
 short distance race. I haven't won any particular 
 prizes, although upon one occasion I narrowly es- 
 caped becoming the high priest of Canadian nu- 
 mismatists. The story, at least, is interesting as 
 to the coin, not so much my share in its escape from 
 me, for there I made a mistake. 
 
 It happened in this wise. While living in New 
 York an acquaintance (an old man) came into my 
 office and offered to sell me his collection of Canadian 
 coins. " Very good," said I, " I'll buy it."
 
 104 
 
 " But," said he, " there is one coin I think is va- 
 luable and I would like to reserve it until I know 
 more about it." 
 
 " Just as you please," I replied, for I really gave 
 the matter very little thought. 
 
 We agreed as to price of the lot with the one ex- 
 ception, and I quite forgot about that until a few 
 weeks later when the old man came in and chuck- 
 lingly said that he had just disposed of this coin to 
 a dealer for $75. 
 
 I rushed to the dealer. He had just disposed of 
 it for $100 to a collector in Vermont. I never had 
 any other satisfaction than that of describing it in 
 the Numismatic Journal of Montreal. It was the 
 Gloriam Regni of 15 sols struck under Louis XIV., 
 for circulation in French America, which included 
 Louisiana and the West Indies. At the time of 
 which I speak only one or two specimens were known 
 to collectors. Since then a couple of them have 
 turned up. My old acquaintanee had become pos- 
 sessed of this by purchase at about its face value 
 from a sailor on a potato schooner hailing from Nova 
 Scotia. One summer I passed a couple of months 
 with a country cur6 to try to learn some French. If 
 I didn't acquire a good smattering of it, as I should, 
 it wasn't the good cure's fault, but my own stupidity. 
 I did, however, acquire a fine collection of copper 
 coins that I sorted out from the Sunday collection 
 in the church. I also found in my calls around the 
 parish with the cure, several pieces of old China, 
 some ancient powder horns and other odds and ends 
 of a curious character.
 
 105 
 
 My ceinture fleche was the gift of an old friend. It 
 once belonged to C. Krieghoff, the artist. A few 
 poor imitations are yet made, but the art of the 
 genuine thing is extinct. Mr. Simeon Lesage in- 
 forms me that when he was a boy a few old women 
 still made them in his native parish of 1'Assomption. 
 The design and coloring in some of these sashes are 
 beautiful.
 
 TREASURES TROVE 
 
 PART II 
 
 AM frequently asked whether I am ever 
 humbugged by spurious articles that are 
 offered for sale as originals. In reply I 
 would say that it not infrequently hap- 
 pens. All collectors, big or little are 
 imposed upon and even the expert spe- 
 cialists are often at fault. 
 
 The story is told that for years the students in the 
 National Academy were set to copy a Van Dyke. 
 Finally it required some restoring and the expert to 
 whom it was entrusted discovered that another paint- 
 ing underlaid it. Some careful work disclosed a very 
 modern portrait of King George the IV. The copying 
 of ancient Roman cameos in Germany has been crrried 
 to such a degree of perfection that their very per- 
 fection has at times led to discovery. There are 
 clever artists on the Continent who devote a lifetime 
 to painting replicas of one great masterpiece or in 
 copying the paintings of some master. Their work 
 is wonderful in its truth to the originals. When 
 such paintings fall into the hands of unscrupulous 
 dealers, innocent and confiding buyers are prett
 
 107 
 
 certain to be badly sold although they often remain 
 in happy ignorance of the fact and continue to the 
 end to point with pride to their Bottoeelli. 
 
 Nothing is too unimportant to imitate if there is 
 any money in it. I am a frequent victim of fake 
 antiques because perhaps of a want of sufficient expert 
 knowledge to detect the imposition. Last summer 
 my brother-in-law from New York paid me a visit. 
 One morning he returned to the house in great good 
 humor, because of a wonderful find he had made in 
 St. Roch of a piece of old brass. He undid his 
 parcel and sure enough there lay a most delightful 
 thing a small holy water receptacle. I admired it, 
 congratulated him upon his purchase, and asked him 
 whether he would permit me to make a plaster mould 
 from it, that I would like to have a replica cnst from 
 it for myself. " Do what you like with it," said he, 
 
 I spent a whole day in my work-shop preparing a 
 carefully finished mould. The next day I took it to 
 a brass worker and with great pride I exhibited it to 
 him. He looked at me somewhat quizzically and 
 said : " Very nicely done, Sir, what is it you wish ? " 
 " Well/' I replied, " I want you to cast and finish 
 one example for me." 
 
 " You consider the design good then ? " he an- 
 swered. 
 
 " One of the most interesting I ever saw," said I. 
 
 " I'm so glad you think so," he replied, " for I found 
 the original some years ago and I have made a couple 
 of dozen replicas of it," and stepping over to a cup- 
 board he handed me out two unfinished specimens.
 
 108 
 
 We both enjoyed a good laugh and then talked the 
 whole matter over. In the dull season he filled in 
 time by making candle sticks, door knockers and 
 other odds and ends likely to sell to visitors to the 
 city. He selected his patterns with care and his 
 products were in demand. When last in New York 
 I saw hanging by a string ohtside the door of a second- 
 hand shop a most interesting " Toby " with the three 
 cornered hat and all the other accessories of the old 
 timer to most minute particular except as to the 
 crack and the chip. I went into the shop however 
 and enquired the price $12.00, but if I would make 
 some other purchases a reduction might be made. 
 I declined the bargain. I hadn't gone far before in 
 a window I saw a replica of the " Toby " I had first 
 been bargaining for. The price was $12, but I could 
 get a reduction if I made other purchases. I took 
 the proprietor of this shop into my confidence and 
 he gave me his. There was a demand* for Toby's 
 just then and he and my other friend had sent an old 
 one to England and had had it copied exactly as the 
 original, but added the man : " It did not pay as it 
 cost too mucn." As a matter of fact the replicas 
 were better executed than the originals, but as the 
 sale was limited even the price asked did not cover 
 the outlay. 
 
 Reproductions of old china ware in colonial designs 
 have been frequent. To give these examples the 
 proper appearance of age and wear they are burned 
 in a hot oven to 'crackle the glaze with perhaps a 
 small chip. It is very deceptive to all except the expert.
 
 109 
 
 During what might be called the china craze period 
 and the old colonial, an immensity of rubbish was 
 offered for sale and greedily bought by the innocent 
 and ignorant public. It was only necessary to ask 
 a big price and the thing was sold with no thought 
 by the buyer of what the purchase implied. Men 
 scoured the country districts for stuff, and stuff as a 
 rule it was, but it all went into the capacious maw of 
 those people who were bent on cabinets and colonial 
 homes. The " God Bless our Home " signs were 
 taken down and replaced with shelves on which 
 reposed any old rubbish from the discard heaps. 
 We were told that all this meant an enlightened re- 
 finement. In my opinion it meant no more than an 
 ignorant fad of very doubtful educational value. 
 
 Old mahogany is now the craze. The scramble for 
 it is just as unreasoning as it was for old china, because 
 as a rule it has no intelligent action behind it. Old 
 mahogany merely means a great deal of unfit furniture 
 for our modern houses. Not long since I saw a 
 fourteen feet mahogany hall settee that it's proud 
 owner had tried to force into a twelve feet room. 
 Two feet of the settee's length was jabbed into a 
 door-way. Its accompaniments in the room were a 
 wicker rocker, a cheap black walnut armchair, a 
 painted centre table with a chenille cover and some 
 other odds and ends articles of virtu they are called 
 my printer will make it virtue. Unless we are 
 among the elect in wealth and good taste, we are 
 apt to be more or less incongruous in our household 
 appointments, a jumbling together of the good, bad
 
 110 
 
 and indifferent, not always from want of knowledge 
 but from want of means. 
 
 Quebec is still rich in good old mahogany and there 
 are some who know just the right thing to pick up 
 when chance offers. One little lady, by taking her 
 time, has completely furnished two rooms in her house 
 with delightful forms of old mahogony, and everything 
 else about the rooms is in keeping. The effect is 
 delightful. 
 
 There are a number of homes in Quebec that are 
 charming types of the best old houses of a century 
 ago where wealth and refinement reigned, and where 
 they still reign in no uncertain ancient dignity and 
 pride of family. I love these homes and their inmates 
 because of the latter's simple unpretentious pride and 
 because time has worked no change in their personal 
 environment. To be born in a house and live out 
 one's life in it, is, at least on this continent, something 
 to be proud of. As a legacy from an old friend (she 
 was very old) I received a spindle-legged hair cloth 
 covered mahogany arm chair. I had often sat in it 
 and admired it, and I had as often heard its history 
 from the old lady. On her mother's side she was 
 descended from the anden noblesse who at one period 
 in the history of Canada held conspicuous place in 
 colonial affairs, but when the change in the destiny 
 of the country came the head of the family choose to 
 return to France to live out his declining days, but 
 before his departure he divided among those of his 
 children, who remained to chance their future under 
 the new regime, all his household effects. Among
 
 Ill 
 
 these effects was this chair in which she was pleased 
 to think had sat all the grandees of the olden times. 
 It doesn't carry their signatures, but I am ready to 
 believe the stoiy for it is comfortable and shapely and 
 even to-day it attracts my more or less pretentious 
 callers to try its ease. A mahogany tea caddy of 
 quaint design was given me by an old cousin whose 
 proud boast it was that out of its precious stores of 
 China tea our very greatest grandmother had once 
 brewed two cups of fragrant Souchong for the Duke 
 of Kent and the beautiful Madame de St. Laurent 
 when the gallant Duke was stationed in Quebec about 
 1794. The cups and saucers pertaining to this fe"te 
 are missing, but I have a cup and saucer which Geo. 
 Washington was reputed to have once used. I never 
 vouch for these things, I only tell what has been told 
 to me, but I like to believe that there is some truth 
 in them. At all events these various bits are interest- 
 ing and curious. The Washington cup and saucer I 
 purchased at a divisional sale of old family effects at 
 Tappan, New Jersey, on this estate Major Andre, 
 the unfortunate young British officer was hung as a 
 spy for trying to communicate with Gen. Arnold at 
 West Point. Arnold, the traitor to his country, 
 escaped to England. He is the Arnold who laid siege 
 to Quebec in 1775-76. Cyrus Field of Atlantic cable 
 fame erected a monument on the spot where Major 
 Andre was executed, but some American youths 
 burning with red hot American patriotism, blew it to 
 pieces one dark night. This act of vandalism was, 
 I am glad to say, universally condemned. I visited
 
 112 
 
 the scene the day following and secured several pieces 
 of the monument bearing bits of the inscription, but 
 they were, in time, all begged from me. 
 
 Of the old 60th Rifles, the Royal Americans, I have 
 a number of souvenirs a complete uniform of an 
 officer, also the sword and sabre-tache. They were 
 gallantly worn by its original owner, the great grand- 
 father of my children, for it is of record that he carried 
 more medals than any other man in the British Army 
 for the number of battles engaged in some eighteen 
 in all. He retired full of bullets and glory and lived 
 out his days of retirement at Valcartier surrounded 
 by many of his own scarred soldiers. In 1837 rebel- 
 lion days he was deputed to bring British troops 
 from Halifax to Quebec in mid-winter overland on 
 the military road he had been instrumental in pre- 
 viously constructing. 
 
 From him I also now possess a mortar and pestle 
 carved from the Rock of Gibraltar, also a tea service 
 looted in Spain by his Colonel and later presented to 
 his wife. It is however of English make, but none 
 the less interesting. 
 
 Some years ago my neighbor in ploughing a new 
 field at Cap Rouge turned up several cannon balls, 
 parts of swords, etc. What a romance to be deduced 
 were I imaginative, for I now possess them. To be 
 prosaic however, and in the light of history I know 
 these shots to have been fired by Saunder's fleet at 
 the de Bougainville forces parading the heights to 
 prevent a landing of Wolfe's forces, but as to the 
 swords I am not too sure, perhaps a soldier killed here 
 and there and hastily buried in full uniform.
 
 113 
 
 I utterly fail to comprehend how it is that our 
 population remains so indifferent, so inert at this 
 moment when it is proposed to endow it with its great 
 crown of glory for the past of which it ought to be so 
 justly proud and exultant. Surely it is not going to 
 be proclaimed to the world that Quebec is not in 
 sympathy with its history and traditions.
 
 VISIT TO THE DOMINION ARSENAL 
 
 OW few are aware of the fact that the 
 Dominion arsenal for the manufacture 
 of ammunition for big and little guns is 
 situated in Quebec and is a very beehive 
 of industrial activity, giving employment 
 to four hundred skilled workmen and a 
 large staff of scientific experts. Its pro- 
 ducts are not advertised in the public press although 
 they frequently give a noisy account of themselves 
 at military camp manoeuvres, and have a destructive 
 force in war times of no mean value. The buildings 
 used for their manufacture were in part formerly 
 occupied as barracks by the Royal Artillery when 
 that arm of the Imperial service was stationed in 
 Quebec. Other and more modern buildings have been 
 added until the entire group now forms an imposing 
 manufacturing plant containing the most modern 
 machinery for the special work carried on. Military 
 scientific experts in ammunition products are agreed 
 that the output from the Quebec arsenal is of the 
 highest standard. The arsenal is situated in Artillery 
 Park, beginning in the top of Palace Hill and running 
 west to the foot of Angele street. Some six or seven 
 large buildings are occupied, so that in point of floor
 
 115 
 
 area it remains the largest plant in Quebec. It is all 
 under the able superintendency of Lieut.-Col. F. 
 Gaudet, an enthusiastic expert in everything that 
 pertains to modern ammunition for all arms of the 
 service. 
 
 Lieut.-Col. Gaudet has studied cartridge and shell 
 manufacture in every important arsenal in this con- 
 tinent and abroad. Of a receptive and original mind 
 he has been quick to seize the cleverest devices and 
 inventions in machinery that would contribute to the 
 turning out of a more perfect cartridge or shell. 
 Besides adaptation Col. Gaudet has had machines built 
 after his own ideas that perform work that in the 
 English arsenals is done by hand, also other machines 
 that automatically perform three or four operations 
 on a shrapnel shell without once releasing the latter 
 until all their work is done. The Colonel is a firm 
 believer in being in the advance rank in all modern 
 appliances that tend to cheapen cost of production 
 whilst raising the standard of efficiency. " This can 
 only be accomplished with the use of the most perfect 
 machinery with brains behind it. Col. Gaudet's 
 assistant, Major de Lotbiniere Panet, is another 
 highly trained expert. The laboratory is in charge 
 of that able analytical chemist, Prof. A. E. Mclntyre. 
 
 Upon our visit to the arsenal we found Col. Gaudet, 
 figuratively speaking, up to his chin in ammunition, 
 but he disentangled himself to welcome us and kindly 
 offered to be our cicerone in our tour through the 
 works. Before we left the office the Colonel lighted 
 no dear reader, not a cigar merely some strands
 
 116 
 
 of cordite to show us how harmless this fearful explo- 
 sive is when it is merely played with. We should 
 have been quite ready to accept the Colonel's word 
 as to the innocence of cordite of unintentional harm. 
 
 " It takes about seventy processes to complete a 
 cartridge," said the Colonel, " and we will begin our 
 tour at the beginning, which are the furnaces where 
 we mix, melt, and mould our alloys of pig metals into 
 bars for the rolling mills. To make brass it takes 
 30 per cent of zinc to about 70 per cent of copper, 
 varying either metal in percentage as necessary for 
 special quality of product." 
 
 Every few moments a furnace door was opened and 
 a flaming crucible of molten metal was deftly seized 
 by a couple of swarthy faced workmen using tongs, 
 carried to the upright molds which were quickly 
 rilled, allowed to solidify sufficiently for an immersion 
 in a water bath for the final hardening and cooling. 
 It now goes to the rolling mills where it is squeezed 
 into any required thickness between two revolving 
 steel rollers, the upper one under pressure. At one 
 or two stages of the rolling process the brass bar goes 
 to an annealing furnace where it is subjected to a 
 heat of between six and seven hundred degrees, which 
 closes any flaws in the metal that may have existed. 
 
 If the brass is intended for caps for the gun cartridge 
 it is rolled very -thin and cut into narrow bands and 
 then coiled. If intended for the cartridge case it is 
 run out in flat bars of a certain width and thickness. 
 
 The reader of this chapter who has ever seen an 
 empty rifle cartridge knows that it is a tapering round
 
 117 
 
 brass shell of certain length with a partially closed 
 head into which a cap has been fitted. The majority 
 of people think that this shell is cast. Nothing could 
 be further from the truth. It is in fact literally 
 punched or stamped out of a comparatively thin strip 
 of brass, and it is this process that we are now about 
 to describe. 
 
 To a powerfully constructed machine the brass 
 strip is fed and a punch cuts out and a stamp or die 
 squeezes it into what looks like a miniature cup with- 
 out a handle. Hundreds of these cups are punched 
 from each strip of brass. When several bushels of 
 them have been collected they are taken to a furnace 
 room, dumped into a steel barrel that is then closed, 
 pushed into the furnace and revolved. This is an 
 annealing process through which the shell must go 
 after every stamping, but before it goes back to the 
 stamps it must be repolished. This is accomplished 
 by throwing a few bushels into a barrel set at an angle 
 and revolved. A weak solution of sulphuric acid and 
 hot water is added. In a very few minutes the shell 
 is turned out as bright as a new dollar. 
 
 Again it goes to a die and stamp and again it is 
 elongated and narrowed, and this operation is repeated 
 several times. Then the shell is rimmed by another 
 machine the cap head is sunken by yet another die 
 and stamp a point is projected upon which to 
 explode the cap, and two minute holes are punched 
 to carry the flash of the cap explosion to the cordite 
 charge. A trimmer cuts each shell to an exact length 
 and a tapering machine completes the shell which is
 
 118 
 
 now ready to be loaded at the loading factory on the 
 cove fields. About one million of these shells are 
 turned out in a working month. 
 
 The bullets used in the rifle cartridges are also 
 made in the arsenal and as the process is new and 
 interesting it will bear describing. A few hundred 
 Ibs. of lead are melted, drawn into another tank with 
 a gauged pipe at the bottom cooled by water. By 
 pressure the lead is forced through this pipe and comes 
 out at the other end a solid roping. This rope is 
 wound on a reel. 
 
 From the reel it is automatically fed to a machine 
 of die and stamp, and they pour out a continuous 
 string still attached to one another by a ligament of 
 roping. To rid them of these attachments and smooth 
 them they are thrown into a rapidly revolved 
 closed metal barrel. By mere attrition they soon 
 become a highly polished detached bullet. In the 
 meantime in another department some clever 
 machines have been stamping out the nickel casings 
 for the bullets. Boys drop the bullets into the cases. 
 A machine clamps them together. They are now 
 ready for the shell. 
 
 The cap, which is really a most minute affair, is 
 also stamped out of a thin brass sheet in much the 
 same manner that the shell is done. 
 
 Such in a very sketchy and imperfect way we have 
 described the making of a cartridge shell and its 
 accompaniments of bullet and cap. It would hardly 
 satisfy the technician, but we have only written for 
 the lay mind and have tried not to confuse it. We
 
 119 
 
 have related as simply as possible the main processes. 
 If we have made ourselves understood it is as much 
 as we can ask. 
 
 The manufacture of 12 Ibs. shrapnel shell for the 
 field guns is carried on at the arsenal with a full 
 equipment of up-to-date machinery. Some of it was 
 only recently perfected from ideas supplied by Col. 
 Gaudet and in use in no other arsenal as yet. All the 
 machinery used for shrapnal shells is heavy and 
 powerful from the hydraulic presses of from 150 to 
 200 tons power to the lathes, reamers, borers, etc. 
 The shell is made from a solid bar of forged steel 
 which in the various processes of manufacture is hol- 
 lowed out to receive a time fuse, a case for the cordit to 
 explode the shell, and a chamber for the case of small 
 bullets. It is hermetically sealed by pouring melted 
 rosin into a small aperture. 
 
 There is a large wood-working department where 
 all the ammunition cases are manufactured. There 
 is also a machine shop with a large corps of trained 
 machinists for ike repair of tools and machinery. 
 The boiler and engine rooms are models of their kind. 
 
 There is a testing room for all the various ammu- 
 nition where the tensile strength of the shell is deter- 
 mined by variously ingeniously contrived machines. 
 There is also a bullet test and a speed test and other 
 tests that we fear we have forgotten. A Maxim gun 
 and a Colt gun are used and rapid firing into a water 
 tank, and at a target, determine all sorts of questions 
 as to quality of everything. We must not forget that 
 every cartridge bears date of manufacture stamped
 
 120 
 
 into it. Every batch of metal used on that date has 
 been chemically assayed, and other registers kept of 
 all the stages of manufacture. If anything should 
 by any possibility go wrong with a cartridge or shell 
 a tracer can be at once set going to determine the 
 source of trouble. Infinite care is therefore the 
 watchword throughout the arsenal mistakes are 
 inexcusable. 
 
 Our visit was brought to a delightful close by a 
 tour of the well-kept grounds attached to the arsenal. 
 The perfume of lilacs and plum blossoms filled the 
 air and the melody of wild birds mixed with the 
 distant hum of machinery. We drank a cup of tea 
 with the charming chatelaine, the hostess of the 
 delightful old house that serves as the residence of 
 Col. Gaudet. A merry crowd of young people were 
 playing tennis on the lawn as we closed the gate 
 behind us and found ourelves once more in the city 
 street. 
 
 The arsenal in Quebec is the only one in the Domi- 
 nion. It is the largest manufacturing plant in the 
 city. The main building alone is some 600 feet in 
 length and from two to three stories high, but there 
 are a considerable number of other buildings for the 
 different processes. The rifle cartridge manufactured 
 is the regulation decimal .303.
 
 ICE BREAKERS ON THE ST. LAWRENCE 
 
 HE earlier opening of the lower St. Law- 
 rence river and the later closing of that 
 artery of marine commerce has engaged 
 the attention of the large shipping inte- 
 rests of the Dominion of Canada for some 
 years past. If navigation of the river 
 <3ould be maintained for two weeks later in the fall 
 and opened two weeks earlier in the spring it meant 
 a clear gain of one month which in these days of 
 steamers and close figuring on ocean freights is one 
 of considerable magnitude. Between the ports of 
 Montreal and Quebec, however, there are physical 
 conditions that render the solution of this problem 
 one of no ordinary difficulty. Ninety miles below 
 Montreal the river expands into a considerable body 
 of water known as Lake St. Peter. Except for the 
 steamer channel it is a shoal on which the ice forms 
 very early oft-times in November. For several 
 weeks this ice is shifting with every wind and current 
 and so great is its force that anchored buoys of every 
 description that mark the ship channel have to be 
 early removed to save them from being carried away. 
 These removals put an end to navigation. Again at 
 Cap Rouge, some 9 miles above Quebec, the St. Law- 
 rence narrows to some 2,000 ft. with seven hours' 
 ebb tide of about 6 miles an hour Large ice fields
 
 122 
 
 coming down with the tide catch at this point and 
 precipitate an ice jam. This jam in many years 
 becomes a fixture for the winter months and occa- 
 sionally it is well into May before it breaks up. 
 
 Below Quebec the ice impediment to late fall and 
 early spring navigation of the river is not quite so 
 serious as above this city. The immense width of 
 the river prevents its freezing over, and nothing 
 more serious than dr fting field ice is to be met with. 
 
 To the late Hon. R. Prefontaine, minister of marine 
 for the Dominion of Canada, a man of large and 
 progressive ideas, belongs the credit for initiating an 
 ice-breaking service on the St. Lawrence that is des- 
 tined to effect a material lengthening of the season 
 of navigation on this great highway of commerce. 
 
 The Montcalm, the new ice-breaker, is a schooner- 
 rigged twin screw steamer built to the highest require- 
 ments of Lloyds' Register of Shipping, and in con- 
 formity with the Canadian rules for shipping and 
 board of trade requirements. She is a two-decker 
 with top gallant forecastle, the upper deck running 
 from right aft to the forward side of the br'dge. Her 
 dimensions are : Length, 245 ft. between perpendi- 
 culars ; beam, 40 ft. 6 in. ; depth, molded, 18 ft. 
 
 The hull is constructed on the most improved prin- 
 ciple with cellular double bottom, and is divided by 
 specially strong transverse bulkheads into five water- 
 tight compartments. The double bottom is divided, 
 both longitudinally and transversely into six separate 
 compartments, which, with the large tanks in the 
 fore and aft peak, are arranged to be filled or pumped
 
 123 
 
 out at will, so that the trim of the vessel may be 
 qu ckly and safely altered to any conditions required 
 for working in the ice fields. The fore foot is cut 
 away, and the stern specially shaped for forcing a 
 passage through the ice, and, in this connection, it is 
 worth mentioning, that the stern and rudder rudder 
 parts are made particularly heavy to resist the strains 
 encountered at this work. For a considerable dis- 
 tance fore and aft the bottom plating is very heavy, 
 and a double thickness of plates is run from stem to 
 stern, above and below the water leve backed up 
 by a system of double framing, and heavy stringer 
 bars and keelsons. 
 
 Since the Montcalm's arrival at the port of Quebec 
 she has been in active service and her capacity as an 
 ice-breaker has had to stand a severe test. The 
 winter 1906-07 set in early and with extraordinary 
 severity. Ice jams were almost of daily occurrence 
 at Cap Rouge and it was the work of the Montcalm 
 to break them. Capt. Belanger, her commander, has 
 had about thirty years of experience of St. Lawrence 
 river conditions, but ice-breaking in heavy tidal waters 
 and an unbuoyed river with an untested steamer was 
 a novel experience. The captain's successful handling 
 of the steamer and his extraordinary success in com- 
 bating ice floes and ice jams has proven the wisdom 
 of his superiors in appointing him to this work. Through 
 ordinary ice floes up to 12 or 15 in. thick the Montcalm 
 moves serenely on without apparent effort. It is a 
 most interesting sight to see her cutting through this 
 form of ice. In attacking ice jams, however, her cap-
 
 124 
 
 tain resorts to clever tactics. Instead of running the 
 steamer head on to the jam, which would hang her 
 up on the ice, Capt. Belanger takes her in on an 
 angle. Meeting the heavy obstruction the steamer 
 sidles outward toward the open water but not before 
 a considerable section of ice has been broken away. 
 By repeated attacks of this kind, on the ebb tides, 
 large bodies of this heavy ice is released and carried 
 off. It would be quite possible for the Montcalm 
 to break up an ice jam at Cap Rouge within a month 
 by the methods pursued, but r it has been decided 
 upon that the gain for the moment was not commen- 
 surate with the work required, but at the end of April, 
 the Montcalm may be confidently relied upon to free 
 the river of all ice obstruction between Quebec and 
 Montreal and give two weeks earlier navigation for all 
 incoming or outgoing craft. 
 
 This article would be incomplete in every way were 
 I not to mention the fact that the minister of marine, 
 Hon. Brodeur, is particularly fortunate in his agent, 
 JVU. Gregory, Esq., of the marine department at Quebec 
 for forty years past. Mr. Gregory probably possesses 
 a more complete knowledge of St. Lawrence river 
 navigation and requirements than any other living 
 man and last year, in recognition of his devotion to 
 the service, His Majesty King Edward made him a 
 companion of the Imperial Service Order, one of the 
 highest honors he could confer. Mr. Gregory is as 
 active and as enthusiastic a worker to-day in behalf 
 of the St. Lawrence route as he was forty years ago 
 and his services are appreciated to the full by the 
 shipping community.
 
 ON THE MONTMORENCY 100 YEARS AGO.
 
 MONTMORENCI 
 
 E selected Sunday for our visit to the works ; 
 on the great dam now in course of com- 
 pletion at the Natural Steps on the 
 Montmorenci River for a two-fold pur- 
 pose. First we wanted to see the vast 
 crowd that throngs to the Kent House 
 grounds on a holiday and its interests, and secondly 
 we wanted the undivided time of Mr, Wade, the 
 superintendent of the dam, to explain to us the detail 
 of the work on that vast structure. 
 
 We found a concourse of people at the station either 
 struggling for place at the ticket office or for entrance 
 to the cars. The railway people were doing their 
 utmost to accommodate everyone, but three to four 
 thousand passengers are not handled by an electric 
 car service in half an hour's time. The people, how- 
 ever, were out for a holiday and were patient and 
 good natured. Get to the Falls with its attractions 
 of trained animals and Hardy, the daring tight rope 
 walker, they were determined if it took hours. A 
 band that was waiting for a train to the Falls gave 
 a number of popular selections, which greatly pleased 
 the waiting multitude. 
 The Falls themselves were a magnificent sight just
 
 126 
 
 them from the immense volume of water passing over. 
 Clouds of fine spray rose a hundred feet into the air 
 and dozens of rainbows floated amidst it. The thun- 
 derous roar of mighty, falling waters fairly shook 
 the ground on which we stood. It's a pity that our 
 American visitors could not see the Falls when at 
 their best. 
 
 How would it do for the Q. R. L. & P. Co., when 
 the big dam is completed and there is water " to 
 waste " even in midsummer, to turn on the Falls 
 daily, say at 5 p.m. and for half an hour ? We offer 
 this suggestion for what it is worth. 
 
 We took a short cut across the fields to the Natural 
 Steps and the dam. The view from these uplands 
 is of unsurpassed grandeur and beauty in its wond- 
 rous variety of scenic effect. To the north the fir- 
 clad mountains drop almost to the river bank. To 
 the south the long verdant fields slope to the St. 
 Lawrence, the north and south channels the Island 
 of Orleans the long gradual rise that ends only at 
 the mountains on the Maine border some twenty-five 
 or thirty miles distant. To the west Quebec and 
 Levis with the beautiful harbor and its craft. To 
 the east the north channel to near the end of the 
 Island and the towering mountains behind Ste. 
 Anne's. 
 
 We reductantly tore ourselves away from this 
 glorious and inspiring panorama. 
 
 We missed Mr, Wade at the works, and conse- 
 quently we are without the necessary figures to give 
 an accurate statistical statement of the extent of
 
 127 
 
 the present enterprise, but as we have had some pre- 
 vious experiences of somewhat similar constructions 
 we were able to form a pretty good idea of what 
 this one meant in its magnitude,. Being a holiday 
 work was suspended, but this gave us a better op- 
 portunity of looking about without interference of 
 workmen and live machinery, or of getting in the 
 way and being voted a nuisance. 
 
 The actual river channel at the point of construc- 
 tion narrows to about forty feet with a low water 
 depth of some thirty feet. The rock walls about the 
 water level gradually recede on each side of the river 
 until at bank top the width must be somewhere 
 about three hundred feet with an entire depth from 
 the top of dam to bottom of about ninety feet. To 
 draw off the water so that the work of construction 
 can be carried on on a dry river bottom a temporary 
 turning dam has been constructed that diverts the 
 waters into a twelve feet diameter pipe that is well 
 anchored into the rock on the south side of the river. 
 This latter is part of the permanent work and by the 
 action of a gate the retained waters may be drawn 
 off to any required low level if it should ever be 
 found necessary to do so either for repairs to the 
 dam or for other reasons. 
 
 On the north bank, which is slighty lower than the 
 other just at this point, a turning wall has been built 
 against the possibility of an overflow. 
 
 The material used in the dam is concrete and rock. 
 A huge rock crusher, operated by electric power, 
 supplies the stone in any required size.
 
 128 
 
 Stretched from bank to bank is a heavy wire cable 
 on which a traveller carries material from shore to> 
 shore. 
 
 With the natural side walls of solid rock, and a 
 solid concrete dam wedegd into these side walls, the 
 the resistance power would hold back the St. Law- 
 rence even. This dam creates a lake over a mile 
 and a half in length and with a depth varying from 
 ninety feet to ten at the head. This dam will not 
 alone give an unfailing head of water to its present 
 power house at the foot of the falls, but will enable 
 the company to erect several other power houses 
 as the water power can be used over and over again 
 before the falls are reached. 
 
 We continued our wanderings up stream until we 
 came to the summer camp of E. A. Evans, Chief En- 
 gineer and General Manager of the Company where 
 we were the recipitents of warm welcome from him 
 and his family. This lodge in the wilderness is most 
 picturesque and beautifully situated.
 
 QUEBEC'S GREATEST INDUSTRY 
 
 E can just remember the last of the wan- 
 dering shoemakers. He came to a farm- 
 er's house, where we were spending our 
 summer holidays, and he remained 
 about ten days. He made several pairs 
 of boots and shoes for different mem- 
 bers of the family, besides doing some cobbling. In 
 the long twilights he sat on a bench outside the kitch- 
 en door and delighted us youngsters with his fairy 
 stories, for which reason, we have no doubt, he still 
 lingers in memory, and not because he was the shoe- 
 maker. Long years ago he was gathered to his fa- 
 thers with others of his confreres. Then began the 
 era of factory-made footwear ; at first the coarser, 
 grades for the country trade, but with the invention 
 of more perfect machinery, an improvement in the 
 class of goods turned out. To-day the highest grade 
 boot or shoe can be made only by the factories. As 
 a consequence of these present conditions the boot 
 and shoe manufacturing has become one of the most 
 important trade industries in the United States and 
 Canada, and where it has reached its highest deve- 
 lopment. In such high esteem is the Canadian- 
 made boot and shoe held that a large export trade
 
 130 
 
 has been established with the Australias. There 
 has been no reaching out after this trade. It has 
 come as the expression of the Australians for a 
 superior manufactured article at a fair price. The 
 Canadian manufacturers, however, are not yet pre- 
 pared for a large volume of export trade, as the home 
 market is taxing them to their utmost capacity. 
 
 Quebec is one of the most inportant centres of boot 
 and shoe manufacturing within the Dominion. It 
 excels in the coarser and high medium class goods. 
 There are twenty-five large plants in the St. Roch's 
 district and they give employment to between five 
 and six thousand hands with an annual pay roll of 
 almost two millions of dollars. The value of the 
 annual product is in the neighborhood of six millions 
 of dollars. The shoe worker earns from $4 to $20 
 a week according to capacity. Many of the skilled 
 operatives are women. Where two or three mem- 
 bers of a family are employed the combined wages 
 enable them to live in the greatest ease and comfort 
 and to make a good appearance on Sundays and 
 holidays. The majority of the heads of families 
 own their own snug little houses in some of the many 
 streets in St. Roch's or St. Sauveur. 
 
 Indirectly the shoe manufacturers are the support 
 of another considerable part of the population of 
 Quebec. The tanneries, whose product of finished 
 leather is almost entirely consumed by the home 
 market, is a trade of old standing in Quebec anti- 
 dating the making of factory shoes. For years the 
 tanners held royal sway in the St. Roch's quarter
 
 131 
 
 of Quebec, nor would they even divide honors with 
 the shipbuilders of the St. Charles, although the 
 latter were a powerful clan. In later years, how- 
 ever, both these industries declined. To-day ship- 
 building is an extinct as the Dodo, and the tanneries 
 are confined to specialties in leather. 
 
 It will astonish the majority of readers to learn 
 that in the making of a medium fine boot it passes 
 through eighty-five hands, but it is needless to state 
 that it does not linger long anywhere. As rapidly 
 as it can be passed through a rapidly run machine 
 it is carried aloug to another machine in whole or 
 in parts. Do not imply from the foregoing state- 
 ment that haste not care is the factory's motto. 
 The facts are that good machinery makes for ex- 
 actness and perfection, and, if good material is used, 
 for durablitity. 
 
 Recently we visited several of the leading factories 
 -to study the making of a shoe with a view to the pre- 
 paration of this paper. It would be impossible in 
 the limited scope of this chapter to describe 
 every machine used and how it is operated, but we 
 can, and will, attempt a short description of what 
 we saw aided by some extracts from an article by 
 W. B. Stewart, in the Cosmopolitan Magazine; for 
 February, 1905. 
 
 When an order is received at a factory, it is en- 
 tered on the books and a number is given to it. A 
 tag is made out with a full description of the shoe 
 required, as to size, quality of leather, thickness 
 of sole, and other particulars. The leather selected,
 
 132 
 
 it is sent to the cutting-room and placed on a 
 board before a cutter, who, by means of a flat, brass- 
 bound pattern which corresponds with the number 
 and style indicated on the tag cuts the vamp, or 
 lower part of the shoe. Leather and tag then pass 
 to a second cutter, who chts the top, or quarter. 
 In turn the tip is is cut, then the back and front 
 stays, the outside and the inside, the tongue, top 
 facings, inside lining, interlining and " boxes," each 
 workman cutting a different part. 
 
 From the cutting-room the shoe is sent, with its 
 tag, to the fitting or stitch ing-room, and from there 
 to the lasting-room. From the laster's table it goes 
 to a machine which cuts a channel in the in-sole, 
 to which the upper is next sewed by machinery. 
 Then the shank is tacked on, a filling is pressed in 
 until the bottom is perfectly level the' welt is stitched 
 around the outside of the in-sole, the sole is tacked 
 on temporarily, and a machine trims the edges ; 
 then the sole is stitched to the welt, the heel is glued 
 on, nailed, trimmed and slugged all by machinery 
 and the final touches of smoothing and polishing 
 are accomplished in the bottoming or finishing-room. 
 
 The shoe has been made exactly, as ordered, and 
 eighty different hands have had a part in its con- 
 struction. Through each stage of its manufacture 
 a record has been kept of the work done, and when 
 the order returns to the accounting-room the story 
 of each individual workman's share in it is ready to 
 be placed upon the records. 
 
 The rolling-machine performed the first operation
 
 133 
 
 of actual shoemaking that of solidifying the leather. 
 The invention of the rolling-machine was followed 
 by that of a wax-thread sewing-machine, which 
 greatly reduced the time required to sew together 
 the various parts which formed the upper. Next 
 came a machine which made pegs very cheaply, and 
 another which drove them very rapidly. In quick 
 succession followed splitting-machines, for reducing 
 sole-leather to a uniform thickness ; die-machines, 
 for cutting soles, taps and hneels by the use of 
 different dies ; a sewing-machine which sewed the 
 soles to the uppers ; cable-nailing machines ; screw- 
 machines, to fasten soles on the heavier class of 
 boots and shoes ; machines which compressed 
 the heels and pricked holes for the nails ; machines 
 which automatically drove the nails ; machines 
 which prepared the in-sole, skived (trimmed to a 
 uniform thickness) the welt, trimmed the in-sole, 
 and automatically rolled or levelled the shoe: ma- 
 chines which sewed the welts, and machines for lasting. 
 
 There are two main divisions of work in the mo- 
 dern manufacture of shoes. The minor of these 
 is that of making turned shoes, which have only 
 a single, thin, flexible sole, such as slippers and 
 women's thin house-shoes. The other division em- 
 braces all kinds of footwear in which the upper part 
 is united to an inside and outside sole goods ran- 
 ging in quality and designs from low oxfords to long- 
 top riding-boots, with all varieties of lacing, button- 
 ing and strapping. 
 
 The interior of a shoe-factory of to-day consists
 
 134 
 
 of five or six main departments, immense rooms 
 accommodating three hundred or four hundred em- 
 ployees each. In them are a hundred different 
 kinds of machinery, which perform the various main 
 and subsidiary processes of cutting, stitching and 
 lasting. They form a vastly different picture from 
 the low bench with its compartments at one end 
 for knives, awls, hammers and rasps, paste-pots and 
 blacking and rub-sticks, which formed the " shop " 
 of the American shoemaker of sixty or seventy years ago. 
 
 The tag system by which special orders for shoes 
 are filled, applies as well to the modern making of 
 shoes in bulk. A single tag does for a large number 
 of shoes of any one style and grade. From this 
 tag, or ticket, the vamp cutter first blocks out the 
 vamps (the upper front parts) and gives them, 
 with thfc ticket, to the upper-cutter, who shades 
 the vamps to the pattern and cuts the tops or quart- 
 ers (the upper back part) which accompanies them. 
 This cutting is done by dies or other cutting-ma- 
 chinery. The side linings, stays, facings, or what- 
 ever trimmings are necessary, and then got out by 
 the trimming-cutter, and the whole made into a 
 bundle and sent to the fitting department. 
 
 In the fitting departmeat the materials for the 
 shoe-uppers are arranged in classes by themselves. 
 Pieces which are too heavy are run through a splitting- 
 machine, and the edges are beveled by means of a 
 skiving machine. Then they are pasted together, 
 having previously been marked for the purpose, and 
 after being dried, go to the machine operators, the
 
 135 
 
 different parts to different machines. Each ma- 
 chine is adjusted for its particular work, and in an 
 incredibly short time the upper is completed. 
 
 The part of the shoe that is finished then goes to 
 the sole-leather room. Sole-leather is different from 
 the leather used in the uppers. In the latter many 
 kinds may be employed, such as calfskin, goat-skin, 
 sheep-skin, kangaroo-, porpoise-, and seal-skin, the 
 hide of alligators and horse-hide. 
 
 In the sole-leather room, machinery performs the 
 greater part of the work, as it does in the rooms 
 where the uppers are made. By the use of a cutting- 
 machine the leather is reduced into strips correspond- 
 ing to the lengths of the soles required. A powerful 
 rolling-machine then passes over the strips, harden- 
 ing the leather and removing from its surface any 
 irregularities. By machinery also the strips are 
 shaved down to a uniform thickness, and placed 
 under dies which cut out the proper forms. The 
 smaller strips of leather are cut by dies into heel- 
 pieces, which are joined together, to the thickness 
 required, and after being cemented and put in press 
 and pressed into a condition of solidity. The top 
 piece is not added to the heel until after it has been 
 nailed to the shoe. 
 
 A lighter grade of leather is used for the in-sole 
 than for the out-sole, and after being cut into strips 
 and rolled it is cut by dies to the proper shape, shaved 
 uniformly and a channel made in it by a machine, 
 around the under edge, in which to sew it to the 
 upper. The counters are died out and skived, by
 
 136 
 
 machine, and the welts cut in strips. These strips, 
 or welts, are later sewed to the lower edge of the upper, 
 with the seam inside, and then turned and sewed 
 flat to the outer edge of the sole. 
 
 This sewing together of soles and uppers is done 
 in the bottoming department, where the first oper- 
 ation is that of lasting, the uppers being tacked to 
 the in-sole. Upper, sole and welt then are firmly 
 sewed together on a machine, after which the bottom 
 is filled and levelled off and a steel shank inserted. 
 Next, the bottom is coated with cement, and a 
 machine presses the out-sole upon it. A rounding- 
 machine then trims it and channels the sole for 
 stitching. Another sewing, this time through the 
 welt outside of the upper, leveling and heeling com- 
 plete the shoe, all but the smoothing and polishing. 
 No fewer than four machines are employed in heeling. 
 First, the heels are mailed on in the rough ; then they 
 are trimmed into shape by a machine operating 
 revolving knives ; a breasting-machine shapes the 
 front of the heel ; another machine drives in the 
 brass nails and cuts them off flush with the top pieces, 
 and an edging-machine trims the edges of both sole 
 and heel. After this the bottom of the sole is sand- 
 papered, blacked and burnished by machinery, and 
 the shoe, having been cleaned and treed, is ready to 
 be packed for shipment. 
 
 The Messrs. J. and J. Woodley were the pioneer 
 boot and shoe manufacturers in Quebec, closely fol- 
 lowed by Guillaume Bresse and Mignier. The two 
 largest concerns to-day are the John Ritchie Co., and 
 the Wm. Marsh Co.
 
 SEASIDE SAUNTERINGS 
 
 FRENCH-CANADIAN, returning home 
 to Kamouraska after three months in 
 the Haverstraw brickyards, met some 
 old friends on the Intercolonial train. 
 He commenced to boast of his wonder- 
 fully acquired knowledge of English, but 
 the others refused to believe him. 
 
 " Well," said he, " you will see, for at the next 
 station we will go on the platform, and the first 
 Englishman I meet I will ask him any question you 
 give me." 
 
 At Harlaka Junction the brickyarder and his friends 
 stepped out on to the platform. " Now," said the 
 latter, " there is an Englishman, and you ask him 
 where he is going." 
 
 The brickyarder stepped forward made a profound 
 bow and said : " Where for you go, you ? " 
 
 The Englishman cooly surveyed his questioner 
 before answering by saying : " you go to h " and 
 turned and walked away. 
 
 " I told you," said the brickyarder, " he says he is 
 going to Riviere Ouelle." 
 
 So we too decided to go to the latter place as cooler 
 lor an August week end, and for a whiff of salt breezes
 
 138 
 
 to recall old times. We journeyed down with an 
 immense crowd of others bound for the many attract- 
 ive summer resorts on the south shore, and for Murray 
 Bay via Riviere Ouelle route, which visitors to that 
 now far famed place find so short and so convenient, 
 thanks to the Government for building the spur from 
 the main line of the Intercolonial to RiviSre Ouelle 
 wharf where the beautiful little steamer, also a 
 Government vessel, meets all trains and carries mails 
 and passengers across to Murray Bay, Ste. Irenee and 
 Cap a 1'Aigle. The Laurentian hotel at Riviere 
 Ouelle wharf was our objective for this trip and our 
 choice turned our outing into a most delightful visit 
 of many charms. We found a number of American,. 
 Montreal and Quebec friends enjoying the hospitality 
 of mine host Donaldson's admirably managed hotel. 
 The situation of this house is unique for the St. Law- 
 rence. It is on the extreme end of a point that 
 pushes a half mile into the river which is here some 
 ten miles wide. From the broad piazza of the hotel 
 there is a more beautiful view than even the Terrace 
 at Quebec commands forty miles of river Kamou- 
 raska Isles, Murray Bay, Ste. Ire'ne'e, Cap a 1'Aigle 
 the great mountains of the North Shore and sun- 
 sets behind them that are the despair of artists and 
 the delight of all-beholders. The promenade of 1200 
 feet on the wharf to the lighthouse of an evening, with 
 a merry party of friends, is something to remember. 
 Picturesque drives, more picturesque beach walks add 
 variety to the menu of entertainment. The smelt 
 and tommy cod fishing is splendid and when the tide
 
 . 139 
 
 serves everybody goes to the wharf with rod and line: 
 On the east side of the pier is a sand beach that affords 
 the finest and safest bathing on the coast. 
 
 For those who find the sea bathing too cold there 
 is the bath house, with open overhead tanks into 
 which sea water is pumped and warmed by the sun, 
 and drawn by tap to the bath tubs. 
 
 We found the hotel rates very reasonable for the 
 service and table supplied.
 
 A CHRISTMAS STORY 
 
 RS. SMITH," said Charles Bromly to his 
 housekeeper, who had answered his ring, 
 " my sister and her two children will 
 arrive to-day to remain over Christmas. 
 Make such preparations as are necessary, 
 and, Mrs. Smith, I'll lunch at the club 
 to-day." 
 
 " Yes ,Sir," answered Mrs. Smith, and then some- 
 what dubiously : " Whatever in the world, Sir, are 
 we to do with that Master Torance, he is that mis- 
 chievious ? " 
 
 " I really don't know, Mrs. Smith," sighed her 
 master, " unless," and here Mr. Bromley's face lit up 
 with a simile at the absurdity of his thought, " unless 
 you order an empty hogshead, Mrs. Smith and have 
 Torance placed in it immediately upon his arrival, 
 then head it up and feed him through the bunghole. 
 You may say that it's by my orders, if he offers any 
 objection." 
 
 " Hump ! " snorted the old bouse-keeper, " I'd 
 like to see anyone as would get that Master Torance 
 into a hogshead, much less keep him there." 
 
 " Well, I've nothing else to suggest," said Mr. 
 Bromley, who had been edging to the door, and now 
 took his departure for his office.
 
 141 
 
 To Smith, the butler, Mrs. Smith freed her mind 5 
 later. They condoled together over the threatened 
 invasion of the Bromley house, and quarrelled as 
 to what means were to be taken to lessen the evils 
 to follow, Mr. Bromley's suggestion " bein' quite too- 
 ridicklous " ; but they were perfectly agreed that 
 " it were a shame that Mr. Bromley at his time of 
 life, should be put to by a pack of children, and he 
 always that busy with his invention in the holiday 
 season." 
 
 Mr. Bromley pursued his way to his office also- 
 somewhat perturbed in mind. For a bachelor con- 
 siderably past fifty to have the quiet routine of his 
 household disturbed by two unruly youngsters, was 
 not to be thought of without misgivings. Business 
 acquaintances who met him were convinced that his 
 preoccupied look indicated some important finan- 
 cial deal : for be it known that Mr. Bromley was 
 the leading banker in town, a progressive man to 
 whom other men turned for leadership in large under- 
 takings. He was terse of speech, decided in manners 
 and as many said " there was no nonsense about 
 Bromley," others rarely attempted any with him. 
 He lived in the old family homestead, a spacious 
 mansion set in spacious grounds. His social life, 
 however, was an occasional evening at his club with 
 its solemn game of whist. His leisure otherwise was 
 spent in a mysterious room in his own house into 
 which no one had ever penetrated, not even Mrs. 
 Smith, although that excellent housekeeper had 
 frequently suggested the propriety of giving it a
 
 142 
 
 cleaning up. The suggestion was always met with 
 the reply. " I'll attend to that myself, Mrs. Smith." 
 By dint of assiduous listening outside the door Mrs. 
 Smith has discovered that her Master was engaged 
 in " inventing'' for there was no other explanation 
 for the strange sounds she heard, or to account for 
 the many boxes that had gone into the room for 
 years and had come out empty, and without clue. 
 The story had leaked out into the world, and people 
 spoke of Mr. Bromley's cleverness as an inventor, 
 though no one knew precisely what he had invented 
 This very mystery added to his fame. 
 
 Mrs. Ainsley and the two children arrived in the 
 course of the day and received a stiff and formal 
 walcome from Mrs. Smith, but Grace and Torance 
 were in no wise affected by any chilliness of manner 
 on her part. It was uncle Charles' house, and they 
 were going to do as they pleased in it. By the time 
 Uncle Charles reached home they were complete 
 masters of it, and in full possession. It was they 
 who opened the door for him and gave him effusive 
 welcome. 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Charles ! " exclaimed Grace, standing 
 on tip toe to kiss him, " we're just awful glad to see 
 you, and we're having such fun. Torance has got 
 Smith locked in the butler's pantry, and Mrs. Smith 
 can't get out of her room." 
 
 " That old thing," said Torance, with great con- 
 tempt, " why of course she can get out only she 
 don't know ; I untied the string an hour ago. I say, 
 Uncle Charles, did you bring us home anything ? "
 
 143 
 
 " You young monkeys/' said their Uncle by way 
 of answer, "up to your eyes in mischief already. 
 I'd just like to know what else you've done in the 
 way of making yourselves at home ? I say Master 
 Torance, just you let Smith out at once." 
 
 While Torance went off to release the unfortunate 
 Smith, Grace followed her uncle into his study. The 
 presence of the two irrepressibles was apparent even 
 here. The precious folio Shakespeare, was spread 
 wide open on the table. Mr. Bromley gave a half 
 frightened look at the book as if expecting to find 
 it a mass of ruins. It appeared, however, to be in- 
 nocent of any further injury than having laid across 
 its face a large sheet of foolscap on which was rudely 
 printed by pen : 
 
 CINDERELLA 
 
 OR 
 
 THE GOLDEN SLIPPER 
 
 A CHRISTMAS PANTOMIME. 
 
 Clown Mr. Torance Ainslie. 
 
 Cinderella Miss Grace Ainslie. 
 
 " What in the worl," said Mr. Bromley, turning 
 to Grace, " were you doing with this book ? Don't 
 you know that you are not to touch things in my 
 study ? " 
 
 " Why that book ain't no good, Uncle Charles. 
 Torance and me looked all through it to find a
 
 - 144 
 
 J. MM. * 
 
 Christmns pantomime, and there's only stupid old 
 plays about kings and things. Torance is going to- 
 be the clown and I'm going to be Cinderella. Isn't 
 it great, Uncle Charles ? You should come up to 
 the parlor and see what a beautiful stage we've 
 made with the window curtains. But I must go 
 and find Torance." 
 
 At dinner Mr. Bromley addressed himself to his- 
 sister, a delicate looking little woman, and paid no 
 further attention to the two children. Their en- 
 joyment, however, seemed in no wise diminished 
 by this seeming neglect. Every time Smith passed* 
 around the table, looking unutterable things at them, 
 they would give each other a sly kick under the table 
 and go off into the giggles. 
 
 When the nuts and raisins had been placed on the 
 table, and Smith had left the room, there was a pause 
 in the conversation between Mr. Bromley and his 
 sister. Torance took immediately advantage of it." 
 
 " Say, Uncle Charles, are you going to give us a 
 Christmas tree ?" 
 
 " Of course he is," said Grace, interrupting. 
 
 " I didn't ask you, Miss Busybody ; I asked Uncle 
 Charles, Say, are you, Uncle Charles ? " persisted 
 Torance. 
 
 " A Christmas tree ! What put such a notion as 
 this in your head, Torance ? " replied his uncle. 
 
 " Oh ! Grace and me went into the big toy shop 
 on High street this afternoon and the woman said 
 to me, 'Well, sonny, what do you want ?' And I 
 asked her if my Uncle Charles had been buying any 
 toys there."
 
 145 
 
 " Torance," hastily interrupted his uncle, "won't 
 you take some nuts and raisins to put in your pocket, 
 then Grace and you can run away ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't mind if I do," answered Torance, 
 as he preceded to liberally help himself, " but I must 
 tell you what the woman said." 
 
 " Never mind that now, Torance, I want to talk 
 with your mother," said his uncle, looking more 
 uncomfortable every moment. 
 
 Grace, bursting to get at the true inwardness of 
 so important a matter, broke in here : " Why, the 
 woman said, ' Sonny, who is your Uncle Charles ?, 
 and Torance said, ' Mr. Chas. Bromley.' And then 
 she turned to another woman in the shop and laughed, 
 and the other woman said, ' that accounts for it all/ 
 and then they both laughed, and one of them said 
 to Torance, ' Sonny, you just run away home and 
 don't ask any more questions,' What did she mean 
 Uncle Charles ? " 
 
 " How should I know," answered her uncle, but 
 looking immensely relieved nevertheless. " Now 
 Torance you and Grace run away." 
 
 The following morning the two children, having 
 escaped the argus eyes of Mrs. Smith, were rooting 
 about the garret. They were searching for costumes 
 for the coming Christmas pantomime. Torance 
 had already appropriated an old beaver hat which 
 he wore on the back of his curly head. Grace trailed 
 a gorgeouly flowered dress, and wore a poke bonnet 
 of fifty years ago. They were deep in an old horse- 
 hair covered trunk ruthlessly turning its contents
 
 146 
 
 upside down. In a pause from their labor Torance 
 said : 
 
 " I tell you, Uncle Charles's immense, and he 
 knows heaps about things." 
 
 " I don't think he's nice at all," answered Grace, 
 " he don't know nothin' about dolls. I asked him 
 this morning if he would'nt put Cecile's leg on for me, 
 and he told me to get Mrs. Charles to do it." 
 
 " Dolls," exclaimed Torrance with an air of great 
 contempt, " What does a man want to know about 
 dolls, anyway ? Say, Grace, what do you think 
 Uncle Charles keeps in that locked-up room of his ? 
 I saw him carry a box up there this morning. Smith 
 says he's inventing. I wonder what it is : don't 
 you ? " 
 
 " No," said Grace frankly, " I don't care a bit. I 
 just want to know though, if he's going to give us a 
 Christmas tree." 
 
 " Perhaps that box was Christmas things," said 
 Torance suggestively. 
 
 " Oh, Torance ! do you think so ? " Don't I wish 
 *we knew ; " exclaimed Grace rapturously. 
 
 " Well, I'm going to find out," said Torance 
 with an air of great decision. 
 
 " Your name's Mr. Smarty, is'nt it ? just let me 
 know when you've found out anything," replied 
 Grace. 
 
 " Perhaps I will, and perhaps I won't Miss Doubt- 
 er," said Torance : and here the conversation ended, 
 for they heard the footsteps of Mrs. Smith, and each 
 rushed for cover.
 
 147 
 
 Torance, still intent upon the mystery of the room 
 into which his Uncle Charles retired nightly, shortly 
 after dinner, not to re-appear that evening, had made 
 several surveys of the exterior building. A water- 
 spout ran up the side of the house, and passed close 
 beside a window which he had ascertained looked 
 into the room whose secrets he was devoured by 
 curiosity to discover. He made several attempts 
 to climb the spout and once he almost succeeded in 
 reaching the window sill, when Smith appeared upon 
 the scene, and ordered him down, Torance there- 
 upon decided that a night attack alone remained to 
 him. The opportunity came on Christmas Eve. 
 Shortly after Mr. Bromley had gone to his "inventing 
 room." Torance quietly, and unobserved by Grace 
 or his mother, slipped out of the door and around 
 the house. He had to put on a pair of rubbers to 
 help his climbing, and because they made less noise 
 than boots. Slowly and surely he climbed the spout 
 until he came to the window-ledge ; a little higher 
 and he rested one foot on the sill. With one arm 
 clinging to the rainspout he worked his body around 
 until he could just peer over the top of the closed, 
 half-inner shutters into the room which^was bril- 
 liantly lighted. The sight that met his. eyes fairly 
 dazzled them, and his brain reeled from ^suppressed 
 excitement. 
 
 Before a large, round table, in the>tcentre of the 
 room, sat his uncle, gazing, with Tan ^expression of 
 the utmost delight, into the open countenance of a 
 mechanical toy, clown that winked at him, stuck a
 
 148 
 
 long tongue out at him, doubled itself up and jeered 
 at him. A miniature engine was operating the 
 machinery that sat in motion a number of acrobats 
 on horizontal bars, nimble fellows who went through 
 amazing figures. Two negro clog dancers, operated 
 from a sand box, were in full swing. A train of 
 cars, drawn by real steam engine, was rushing 
 madly around a circular track while a spectacled 
 monkey, in its own skin, was scraping away on a 
 violin, but the music apparently came from its very 
 insides. But these wonders were as nothing to 
 other wonders that stood upon shelves from the 
 floor to the ceiling, and over-spilled in litters upon 
 the floor itself. Torance's breath came fact, his 
 face was glued to the window, he couldn't even 
 think of what it all meant, the living reality was too 
 over-powering. Perhaps he made some sound, for 
 just then his uncle glanced hastily in the direction 
 of the window, and catching sight of Torance's 
 face pressed flat against the window pane, he sprang 
 from his chair with an expression far from polite. 
 
 Torance, panic-stricken, seized the spout with both 
 hands and legs, and let himself go. Half-way down 
 he lost his hold, and fell with a crash into a syringa 
 bush. He was scratched and bruised, yet hastily 
 pulled himself together, and make a break to get into 
 the house before he was captured by his uncle, whose 
 wrath he now dreaded, but before he had reached 
 the doorstep his uncle laid hands upon him. 
 
 " There, young gentleman, I've caught you," said 
 he sternly, but just then a ray of light betrayed the
 
 149 
 
 torn and scratched condition of the boy, and his 
 uncle added : " Why, what has happened you ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing, Sir, only I fell into the syringa 
 bush," and whimpering, " I'm all scratched." 
 
 " Come right into my study," said his uncle, " 'till 
 I doctor you up, and then I have something to say 
 to you." 
 
 Washed, court-plastered, and sat in a big chair 
 facing his uncle, Torance had regained some of his 
 old spirit. 
 
 " Now," said his uncle in a conciliating tone of 
 voice, " What were you doing at that window to- 
 night ? " 
 
 " I just wanted to see, Uncle Charles, what you 
 were inventin'. Say, Uncle Charles, are you the real 
 inventor of all those things I saw ? " 
 
 " Well, not exactly, Torance," Mr. Bromley dis- 
 sembled, " but I'm very much interested in mechan- 
 ical devises for children." 
 
 " Awful fun', ain't they, Uncle Charles ? " said 
 Torance excitedly, " My, that clown was great, 
 though." 
 
 " I cannot say that I find them such fun," replied 
 his uncle somewhat confusedly, " but, ahem ! scien- 
 tifically considered they are interesting. The fact is, 
 I have been conducting a series of investigations 
 leading up to (ahem !) an invention, but I should 
 much prefer, my dear boy, not to have this known. 
 So, if you don't mind, I'm going to ask you to keep 
 my secret from everybody, even from Grace. If you 
 like we will go upstairs now, and you shall select for
 
 150 
 
 yourself and Grace just whatever you please. The 
 fact is, I've about made up my mind to turn my 
 attention to some other things." 
 
 "You bet I'll promise, Uncle Charles," said Torance; 
 and they shook hands upon the compact. 
 
 Christmas morning, when the tree was displayed, 
 such an exhibition of mechanical toys was never 
 before seen, and the clown winked and leered and 
 stuck out his tongue, but was silent. 
 
 " I tell you," said Torance to Grace, " Uncle 
 Charles is immense." 
 
 Mr. Bromley's friends, however, who have heard 
 that he had failed to make his invention a success 
 are puzzled to know why he failed, and what it was, 
 after all, he had been working upon tor so many years.
 
 AN ADDRESS TO TRAINED NURSES 
 
 AM very deeply sensible of the honor you 
 have paid me in asking me to address 
 the graduating class of nurses of the 
 hospital. I continue to take the live- 
 liest interest in the welfare and the 
 growing success of the institution with 
 which I was so pleasantly associated in its early days, 
 from its humble and modest beginnings into one of 
 the largest, best equipped, and best managed of hos- 
 pitals. Much, very much of this success is owing, 
 to the unwearied, unflagging, ever anxious care you 
 have always displayed, and the many sacrifices you 
 have made to promote its welfare, and to the gen- 
 erous and loyal support you have had from the Board 
 of Governors, the Auxiliary Committee, and the 
 public at large. You have been singularly happy 
 in associating with you as visiting and consulting 
 physicians and surgeons many of the most disting- 
 uished specialists, men whose reputations are world- 
 wide, and whose names are towers of strength to an 
 institution with which they are associated. A deep 
 debt of gratitude is due these gentlemen for invalu- 
 able services that have been rendered in no small 
 part from that purely humanitarian feeling that is
 
 152 
 
 so dominant a characteristic of the true physician 
 and surgeon. 
 
 Under such conditions your institution has flour- 
 ished and its beneficent work goes on uninterruptedly. 
 
 May I now offer the graduates a few words of 
 advice from the point of view of the layman, upon 
 their leaving home, as it were, to enter upon their 
 chosen career, almost as noble and self-sacrificing a 
 one as that of the physician if entered into with that 
 spirit of conscientious devotion to duty's call. The 
 young ladies who to day go forth from the hospital 
 with their diplomas of graduation, are, I am certain, 
 as well prepared for their mission in life as skilful 
 training could make them from a technical stand- 
 point. They are now, however, face to face with 
 some new conditions that are not in the curriculum 
 of the hospital training, and it is of these new features 
 that I would speak from a considerable experience 
 of trained nurses in the family circle. The value 
 and comfort of an experienced nurse in a household 
 where there is sickness is largely measured by her 
 sympathy and adaptability. Both are essential if 
 she wishes to be called blessed and be held in loving 
 remembrance for all that is best in womanhood. 
 Without sympathy a nurse is a misfit in a sick room 
 and in the household in which she sojourns. With- 
 out adaptabilty to that household she is equally 
 out of place. By adaptability I mean the ability 
 to adjust herself readily and quickly to the conditions 
 and circumstances of whatever household she is called 
 to. In the somewhat circumscribed menage of the
 
 153 
 
 average house it is almost an imperative duty upon 
 the nurse to do many things outside of the sick room 
 which, while no part of the contract, make her a true 
 comfort in the house. I know of several skilled 
 nurses, of whom it is always said by those who have 
 employed them : " Oh ! yes, the Misses A. and B. 
 are excellent in the sick room, but they require two 
 or three people to wait upon them. They make so 
 much extra work that rather than have them we 
 prefer to do our own nursing in future." 
 
 If the tired, anxious, perhaps worn out mother, 
 has to be awakened two or three times in a night to 
 .procure something the nurse requires she is not going 
 to call that nurse blessed Again I hear it said : 
 "" Oh ! Miss C. a perfect treasure in the house in 
 times of illness ; never a particle of trouble, but so 
 helpful in all ways, and so sympathetic. I do not 
 know what I should have done without her when our 
 dear one died." Remembering, then, that every 
 nurse is judged by these standards of general utility 
 in the house, it becomes important for her the mo- 
 ment she enters it to familiarize herself with its ar- 
 rangement. She no longer has the equipment and 
 the ready conveniences of the hospital to fall back 
 upon but must make the best of what the house 
 affords find out where the ice-box is kept, where 
 the food, china and linen closets are, how cook regu- 
 lates her kitchen range and then help herself as 
 much as possible ; and in helping herself she is truly 
 helping that household through a perhaps trying 
 period, and becomes a blessing.
 
 154 
 
 There is another matter of the greatest importance, 
 and upon which too much stress cannot be laid, and 
 that is the necessity on the part of the nurse of loyalty 
 and rigid obedience to the orders of the physician 
 who is in attendance upon the patient. She should 
 never attempt to usurp the doctor's place by setting 
 her opinion above his in the household ; and yet 
 this is frequently done by the so-called " very supe- 
 rior nurse ; " and the result is always to the detri- 
 ment of the patient. The training of a nurse has only 
 fitted her to carefully and intelligently carry out the 
 doctor's instructions, and unless she is conscientious 
 in this particular she is deliberately undoing his 
 work. A physician is often done a great wrong by 
 this very superior person. The nurse is of course 
 to be watchful of all symptoms in her charge and 
 communicate such to the doctor. I frequently hear 
 physicians say : " I prefer Miss E. as a nurse, for 
 I can always trust her." How much is implied in 
 that word " trust " to the doctor in a serious case. 
 It takes a burden of anxiety from his shoulders in 
 the knowledge that his patient is being intelligently 
 and skilfully cared for and his instructions faithfully 
 carried out. 
 
 I find, sometimes, nurses who themselves resort 
 to drugs and stimulants. Of all failings these are 
 the most to be deplored, and nurses who acquire 
 these habits soon drop out of the running. I am 
 glad, however, to bear witness that these faults are 
 unusual ; yet they are to be spoken of and the note 
 of warning sounded. The drug habit is the one to
 
 155 
 
 be most feared ; it is so easy to quiet a pain, still 
 a headache, induce sleep, etc. 
 
 Another failing to be deplored, for it is of more 
 common occurrence, is the habit of gossip, of carry- 
 ing the story of one house to that of another. There 
 should be the same professional secrecy observed 
 by nurses as by physicians. The position of nurse 
 in a house is of the most confidential nature, and its 
 secrets should be inviolate. I cannot lay too much 
 emphasis on the importance of laying to heart the 
 necessity of a silent tongue on the part of nurses as 
 to their experiences and doings or what they have 
 seen or heard in households in which they have been 
 employed. Such gossip is fraught with untold mis- 
 chief, and condemns the nurse who retails such wares 
 as unworthy of confidence. 
 
 Of late years the higher standard of training for 
 nurses in hospitals has brought forward thousands 
 of highly cultivated young women for place in the 
 ranks of the professional nurses, and they, with their 
 higher sense of obligation and of duty to lofty ideals, 
 are fast breaking clown old barriers of prejudice and 
 making the nurse almost as great a necessity and 
 comfort as the physician in those periods when the- 
 work of one so ably seconds that of the other.
 
 THE COMING QUEBEC 
 
 MET the old Railroader and Promoter at 
 the Frontenac Hotel lately, and by ap- 
 pointment. We had known each other 
 in years gone by in the United States 
 where he was then building railroads for 
 his own account. He is shrewed and 
 experienced, and an opportunist, with a keen scent 
 for a good thing and a readiness to "go in with the 
 boys," as he calls his financial associates, on a deal. 
 " Well," said I, " what has brought you to Quebec 
 at this season ? Come up to buy out the Tianscon- 
 tinental franchise ? " 
 
 " Not exactly," replied the old Railroader, " but 
 I have come to Quebec to look into this interminable 
 terminal question, and to see what the prospects are 
 for this city becoming the future great shipping port. 
 A view to some investments if things looked favorable 
 was another reason for my visit." 
 
 I've learned a good many things within the past 
 week by observation, looking over plans and reports, 
 and talking with railroad men who have been here or 
 who are now here." 
 
 " And as a result," said I, " you are going to put a 
 couple of millions into Quebec property and other 
 -enterprises ? "
 
 u. 
 o 
 
 Ul
 
 " Not at present," answered the old Railroader,. 
 " I find Quebec has been booming itself until in my 
 opinion there are a good many inflated values. 
 Properties in Lower Town, which were held two years 
 ago at from five to seven thousand dollars, owners 
 are now asking from twenty-five to forty thousand 
 dollars for, but of course with no takers, but everyone 
 is happy in the faith that they have suddenly struck, 
 it rich. A legitimate and progressive advance would, 
 have been justifiable under all the circumstances, but 
 this flying leap into space must do more harm than 
 good. Unless owners of desirable properties are pre- 
 pared to meet the present conditions for modern up- 
 to-date and equipped buildings in place of the present 
 old rookeries that now " don't adorn " many holdings, 
 the proprietors had better climb clown and out on 
 some reasonable basis otherwise the trend of progress 
 will lead into the St. Roch division of the city. 
 I rather question whether under any circumstances 
 it will not be diverted into this district where there 
 is room for expansion, with wide streets and large 
 holdings, and a flat surface. The C. P. R., the Lake 
 St. John RR., and the future North Shore RR. are 
 already at its doors. Suppose that the Transconti- 
 nental and several of the other roads should finally 
 decide upon their entrance to Quebec by the coves 
 with their terminal at the Champlain Market, what 
 would this imply a demolition of every building 
 from the present market west to Sillery below the 
 cliffs, and even then there will be barely room for the 
 tracks, sidings, storehouses and docks even though
 
 158 
 
 the coves to low water are all filled in. Not an inch 
 of room will be available for dozens of other necessary 
 buildings for railroad purposes. Yet the Cove line is 
 the only practicable entrance into Quebec for the 
 more important RR., that will in the future seek ter- 
 minals here. Five to seven miles of river frontage 
 will be made available for steamships of the largest 
 size and deepest draught at a comparatively small 
 cost as compared with the alternative scheme of 
 enlargement and extension of the breakwater, which 
 at best could never be serviceable to any considerable 
 amount of shipping except at an expenditure of at 
 least twenty millions of money and years of labor. 
 The Louise Docks are but small affairs at best, useful 
 in their day for the schooner and barge outfit but 
 quite useless for a fleet of steamships. They may 
 still continue to serve for the small coasting trade 
 vessels and prove a place of wintering for small craft. 
 The Harbor Commission which at present administers 
 the Docks and Breakwater is a cumbersome political 
 body that commands little attention apparently for 
 its unprogressiveness. No doubt, in time, it will be 
 legislated out of existence. 
 
 " But," said I, " for some time to come ships will 
 be docked, loaded and unloaded at the Breakwater 
 and the Louise Docks, and in the event of the Cham- 
 plain Market being made the Terminal Station in 
 Quebec, how are the various roads entering there 
 going to reach those respective places with their 
 freight cars ? " 
 
 " Nothing easier," answered the|pld railroader,
 
 159 
 
 " another thoroughfare must be constructed on the 
 water front behind Dalhousie street sufficiently wide 
 to carry four tracks, and a wagon road. This would 
 relieve Dalhousie street of its present congestion of 
 freight cars and make it what it ought to be, one of 
 the principal commercial thoroughfares in the Lower 
 Town. This R.R. connection made with the Break- 
 water and Louise Docks would also make a connection 
 with the C. P. R., the Quebec and Lake St. John R.R. 
 and the North Shore and thus the city will practically 
 have a belt line of R.R. commencing at Cap Rouge, 
 every interest being pretty well served for the Great 
 Northern which is building from Portneuf to Cap 
 Rouge on the St. Lawrence shore will probably utilize 
 its already graded line from Cap Rouge to enter 
 Quebec by way of St. Sauveur or St. Roch's, or over 
 the lines of the Quebec and Lake St. John R.R." 
 
 " A Union Station that would cover all roads 
 entering Quebec would be an absurdity as the main 
 interests of several of these coming roads is to get 
 directly to the shipping with the least possible friction, 
 which would not be the case where they to come into 
 Quebec by any other route other than the Coves and 
 for reasons which I have already given. Besides 
 these it must not be forgotten that the C.P.R. has 
 pre-empted the St. Charles frontage and is now pretty 
 comfortably fixed for the future since it has increased 
 its freight tracks and got control of dockage for its 
 steamers with its own R.R. to their gangways. This 
 company is not likely therefore to be enticed into any 
 deal by which it could be called upon to share its
 
 160 
 
 holdings. The Lake St. John road and the Great 
 Northern R.R. are also pretty comfortable where 
 they are located and are not likely to move on to 
 merely please some local property interests. You 
 would find all this out later were the promoters of 
 this idea to advance it much further. 
 
 " Your Board of Trade appointed a committee to 
 report on a terminal and gave it, so I believe, one 
 year in which to study the question. It might just 
 as well have given this committee ten years instead 
 of one. Your Board of Trade appears to lack weight 
 and influence and doesn't seem to convince anyone 
 in particular that its fulminations are worth paying 
 much attention to. I think that I have discovered 
 the reason for this in the fact that your leading and 
 prominent financiers and business men take little part 
 in its proceedings." 
 
 " If instead of ' terminals,' which the various R.R.'s 
 interested in seking out the very best, may be safely 
 left to conjure with, the Board of Trade would devote 
 its energies to encouraging and developing manufac- 
 turing interests in the St. Roch's and St. Sauveur 
 divisions of the city, it would be doing something 
 practical. It is only by the increase of manufactures 
 that cities become great. It would be an object 
 lesson for the Board of Trade to pay Montreal a 
 visit, not to its hotels and theatres, but for a three 
 days' tour of observation among its varied manufac- 
 turing plants. It might return with somewhat enlar- 
 ged ideas. 
 
 " I have frequently heard it asserted that the
 
 161 
 
 Quebec French Canadian is unprogressive. I don't 
 believe it, he has until now been handicapped by 
 adverse conditions. Once these change and he will 
 change, and you will find him, as in Montreal, quite 
 prepared for the larger activities of life. He only 
 awaits the opening and the opening is coming. I don't 
 believe Quebec yet realizes that to one of its own 
 French Canadians, Hon. S. N. Parent, now Chairman 
 of the Transcontinental R.R. Commission, it owes so 
 much of its present prominence. He is a remark- 
 able man in administrative capacity and has earned 
 his spurs by sheer dint of ability to do and dare. 
 Some day, when political animosities have been 
 forgotten, Quebec will erect a monument to him as 
 its foremost citizen." 
 
 " Do you then," I asked, " predict a great future 
 for Quebec ? " 
 
 " Decidedly," answered the old Railroader, " just 
 as soon as the awakening comes, and the awakening 
 is not long to be deferred. The tide is on and the 
 awakening follows, that is the settling down to the 
 actual development of things. 
 
 "I'm coming back later on to further look into 
 some projects I have in mind."
 
 THE WEAVING OF YARNS 
 
 HENEVER it happens that Commodore 
 Gregory, J. S. Budden, the Ancient and 
 Honorable and I the Scribe meet at 
 Spencer Grange for an afternoon with 
 the venerable historian Sir James M. 
 LeMoine, it invariably occurs sooner or 
 later that my three elders become reminiscent while 
 I am graciously permitted to sit silent and takes notes. 
 I have threatened several times to publish some of 
 their yarns as punishment to them for their treat- 
 ment of me as a youngster not yet arrived at the 
 dignity of the anecdotal age, but they have smiled 
 benignently upon me and patting me on the head 
 they have said : " Sonny, some day if you live long 
 enough, and are good, your turn will come. Listen 
 now to us gray beards and learn wisdom," and I 
 listen, for they are a trio of tried talkers with an 
 inexhaustable fund of good stories to draw upon. 
 Sometimes I am appealed to when there is a differ- 
 ence among them as to a date of something or other 
 that occurred long years before I was born, and I 
 invariably answer that so far as I know they are all 
 three correct. This saves their pride and keeps me 
 on an even footing.
 
 163 
 
 There were strange happenings in our province 
 of Quebec, when my dear old friends were in their 
 youth, and their delight is to recount these incidents 
 and wherever they have^played a part to tell the 
 story with all its accompanying detail because per- 
 haps of the many changes that have come with mo- 
 dern innovation of telegraphs, telephones, railroads, 
 etc., that level things down to the common plane 
 of the world's daily occurrences. 
 
 At our last seance it was the Commodore who 
 started the ball rolling by relating the story of a 
 wreck that occurred \ on Anticosti years ago where 
 many thousands of dollars worth of valuable goods 
 were washed ashore and appropriated by the set- 
 tlers and fishermen. Their valuation of the treasure 
 trove was in proportion to their common needs or 
 crude tastes. A box of watches was freely ex- 
 changed for a case of brandy. Silks gave place to 
 cotton cloth and champagne was cast aside for rum. 
 A wreck meant flush times for a period at least, but 
 there were also periods of want and privation along 
 our lower coasts when from any cause the fisheries 
 or sealing failed. In 1868 the government got word 
 that the distress was so serious that unless some aid 
 was afforded the people must perish from starvation. 
 I received instructions to take the steamer Napoleon 
 III, load her with provisions, and proceed at once 
 to the various fishing stations, on the Labrador 
 coast and succor the distressed. At Blanc Sahlon, 
 I was informed of the very serious condition of a 
 family by the name of Jones, living at Bale de
 
 164 
 
 Bradore some four miles distant. Mr. Duhamel 
 having offered to accompany me there on foot, 
 we filled our pockets with biscuit and set out over 
 the hills. When we had gone some two or three 
 miles we met a tall sun burnt man of about forty 
 years of age, he was in ragged garments and was 
 emaciated and sickly looking. I surmised it was 
 Jones as proved to be the case. 
 
 In a few words I told him the object of my mission 
 and requested him to guide us to his house that I 
 might see and judge for myself what his most pres- 
 sing needs were for himself and family. 
 
 He demurred at first saying that neither his famiiy 
 were prepared to receive guests nor was his house 
 in order. 
 
 As I persisted he said: " very well, follow me." 
 
 In answer to some questions of mine he replied : 
 "I was born on the coast and I have never quitted it. 
 I know no occupation other than fishing and the 
 taking of seals. I have one of the best bays in 
 this neighborhood for seals. My father before me 
 has often made an annual profit of from $6000 to 
 $8000 and then we were rich, but for several years 
 now the winds have driven the ice into the bay and 
 I could not set my seines." 
 
 When the house came into view I perceived that 
 at one time it must have been of considerables 
 dimensions, but now it was fast falling into disrepair. 
 
 We entered by the back door and I noticed that 
 the flooring of the room had been torn up. Jones 
 said he had been compelled to do this to make firing
 
 165 
 
 at a time he was to ill and weak to go into the interior 
 for fire-wood. He conducted us into a room that 
 had at one time been decorated with considerable 
 pretentions, but its furnishings had evidently been 
 parted with. I asked to see his wife and family, 
 but he pleaded that they were not presentable, but 
 as I insisted, he called to his wife to come down with 
 the children. When she finally appeared with her 
 little ones their forlorn and desperate condition 
 brought tears to my eyes. Poverty and actual 
 want were written on their faces, and they were 
 clothed in rags. We hastily emptied our pockets 
 of our cakes and handed them to the children who 
 hungrily devoured them. 
 
 Mrs. Jones told me she was a Scotchwoman, born 
 at Glasgow. She had come out to Halifax to join 
 a sister who was married to a brother of Jones. Later 
 she married Jones and came to live on the coast. 
 There were nine children, the eldest of them were 
 away in the interior hunting and fishing to keep 
 those at home alive. They had all been living for 
 some time on the little trout caught in the streams 
 and the few birds that were shot. Absolute despair 
 was written in the poor woman's expression and in 
 her voice. 
 
 " Madam," I said, " I am here by order of the govern- 
 ment to relieve your distress. I will even take you 
 and your children to Quebec, and Jones shall have 
 employment. Will you come ? Tears fulled her 
 eyes and it was several moments before she could 
 reply."
 
 166 
 
 " Mr. Gregory, our fate must be decided here. 
 My husband would never fit in to another life, and 
 my own is drawing to its close. Could we tide 
 through our present troubles and misfortunes a 
 change must come and we shall be able to get along 
 somehow now that the children are growing up." 
 
 " Very well," I answered, " if you arc determined 
 to take your chances here I am going to see that you 
 shall have no further suffering for a year at least. 
 To-morrow I shall send our boats ashore with pro- 
 visions and other things to make you comfortable." 
 
 The poor woman and her husband now broke 
 down completely. When they were somewhat com- 
 posed they thanked me a dozen times, and said it 
 was almost too good to be true. I told Jones to be 
 at the steamer next morning and we left on our long 
 tramp back to Blanc-Sablon. 
 
 When we reached the ship the captain said that 
 he thought we were in for a heavy blow during the 
 night and that he intended running off shore until 
 the morning, so accordingly we up anchor and ran 
 out into the gulf. Next morning the storm having 
 abated somewhat we again put into the harbor, 
 and immediately we saw a boat put off from there 
 with only one man in it whom I recognized through 
 the glass to be Jones. 
 
 Wlien he was landed on the deck his first words 
 were, 'thank God Sir, you did come back or I could 
 never had gone home to my starving wife and child- 
 ren.' 
 "Jones," said I, "you go into the officers mess
 
 167 
 
 room and tuck into as good a breakfast as we can 
 provide, and we'll load the boats at once." 
 
 While he was gone I spread a large blanket on 
 the floor and called for contributions of clothing. 
 The inspector of light-houses and his daughter were 
 aboard and the latter fairly emptied her trunk. Mr. 
 Duhamel, gave liberally from his children's clothing. 
 
 I added powder, lead, pipes, tobacco, matches, 
 tea, sugar, medecines and other odds and ends. 
 
 In the meantime the sailors under the direction 
 of the mate had loaded the steamer's boat with a 
 year's provisions of flour, pork, molasses, potatoes, 
 dried peas and beans, salt and other useful goods and 
 stores. 
 
 When I had filled the blanket I sent for Jones to 
 come into the cabin and I asked him whether he 
 and his family could use what I had gathered. 
 
 " Ah ! yes sir," he said, " but I have no money 
 to pay for them ! " 
 
 " No matter Jones, we are going to make you a 
 present of them." 
 
 "Surely," said he, turning to me "some good angel 
 must have sent you to us Mr. Gregory," but when he 
 was told that the entire boat load of stuff was also 
 for him the poor man cried. 
 
 The sailors sat him on the top of the boats cargo, 
 the order was given to shove off, and the last I saw 
 of Jones he was helping the sailors unload. 
 
 Another year passed and I got word that some 
 good fortune had again dawned upon Jones, but that 
 his poor wife no longer shared it with him.
 
 168 
 
 " The vissisitudes of life on the coast are many 
 and strange," added the Commodore " but it is 
 mostly along the line of tragedies." Dr. Grenfel, 
 knows of them as does few men, and if he confines 
 himseif to his work af relief oniy and avoids pitfals, 
 he can do a great work. But my story has been a 
 sad one. Sir James, you have had your experiences 
 on the coast and in the Magdalen Islands and the 
 Maritime Provinces. Tell us some amusing inci- 
 dent as an offset to my yarn," 
 
 Sir James thus addrssed, smiled and made answer. 
 "Did I ever tell you how I felt as acting Lt.-Governor, 
 of Nova Scotia ?" 
 
 "Well, I shall never forget an incident that occurred 
 at Government-House, Halifax, N. S., in June, 1897, 
 at a reception on the day of Queen Victoria's Jubilee. 
 In my many official perigrinations throughout the 
 length and breadth of the Dominion nothing so 
 comical even happened to me. 
 
 Many loyal citizens of the loyal province of Nova 
 Scotia thought themselves bound to put in an appear- 
 ance at Government House to show their respect 
 for their Sovereign, and to shake hands with the 
 genial Lt.-Governor, the Hon. Malachi Daly. 
 
 There were many high officials, in the city ; the 
 highest the Governor General, Lord Aberdeen, the 
 Commander of the Forces, General Montgomery 
 Moore, Sir H. Erskine, Admiral of the N. American 
 squadron, the members of the Royal Society of 
 Canada, who were holding their annual meeting in 
 Halifax, of which I was lately president. >M any cir-
 
 169 
 
 cumstances concurred to add eclat to the Jubilee 
 ftte, a gala day for Nova Scotia, as well as the rest 
 of the Dominion. 
 
 I had not the pleasure of a personal acquaintence 
 with the popular and able administrator of the 
 Province, but I had known his father, the Honorable 
 Dominick Daly, for years a resident of Quebec, 
 and Provincial Secretary, his son, the present 
 Governor of Nova Scotia, was an old Quebecer 
 living at Marchmont, on the St. Louis Road, in 
 1838 who like myself was a barrister, by profession. 
 
 My knighthood, recently published had brought 
 me many congratulations. Whether, the genial 
 Governor wished to add his own or specially to 
 honor a member and delegate of the Royal Society, 
 is more than I can say. 
 
 The levee was numerously attended : several dis- 
 tant residents had never seen the newGoverno.r A 
 long stream of them pushed forward to shake hands 
 with His Honor, I followed with the rest; on greeting 
 him, be beckoned me to stand near him. I had just 
 done so, when on A.D.C. accosted His Honor, whisper 
 ing that he was wanted, for a moment in the next 
 room and I was left conspicuously standing, before 
 the moving crowd. 
 
 Many not having noticed the absence of the Gov- 
 ernor came up to where I stood and extended their 
 hands, intent on shaking mine, as if I was their 
 governor. The absurdity of the situation after a 
 moment flashed on me. I stood for a second or two 
 and then bolted through the side door, without
 
 170 
 
 stopping to realise how it feels to be acting Lt.- 
 Governor of Nova Scotia, even far a short tenure of 
 office. 
 
 We all laughed at Sir James' predicament and 
 his escape from it, and the conversation then be- 
 came general until some one of us said, turning to 
 the Ancient and Honorable 'And how is it that 
 you, sir, have remained a bachelor for 83 years ? ' 
 
 'Nothing easier/ answered the Ancient and Honor- 
 able 'I have proposed a hundred times, but I was 
 never taken seriousiy, or in other words I was never 
 taken at all, but your question brings to mind a 
 curious story that I heard same years ago when I 
 was storm stayed for a night, in the parish of St. 
 Jolcau, the guest of its good cure. 
 
 He told me that he had officiated at the funeral 
 that morning of one of his oldest and most respected 
 parishoners, and curiously,' added he, ' he was an old 
 bachelor.' 
 
 The story is not without its pathos, and, as it 
 may interest you, I will tell it as the cure told it to 
 me. 
 
 ' A strange man was that Henri LeMarche. Yes, 
 a very strange man, but an honest and upright one 
 whom everyone respected, and laughed at because 
 of his queer ways. He was born in the village and 
 when he was old enough lie followed the trade of his 
 father that of voiturier (carriage maker.) Next 
 door to the LeMarche's lived the Tranchon's and 
 what more natural than Henri should pay his court 
 to pretty Marie Tranchon. In our church we do
 
 171 
 
 not approve of long engagements, but in this case, 
 it proved to be one af fifty-five years duration, not- 
 withstanding every effort to induce them to marry. 
 It all came about in a curious way. He had built 
 a house next to his father's for his bride, and the date 
 for the marriage was fixed when Marie's mother 
 died. There were six young children and the father. 
 Marie had promised her mother to care for them. 
 She offered to release Henri, but he said simply that 
 he must wait for her. In the meantime he would 
 begin to furnish the house and she would help him 
 make choice. This furnishing the house finally be 
 came the ruling passion of both of them. Ten years 
 rolled by and then again a date was set for the mar- 
 riage, and again fate decreed that it should not be. 
 Henri's sister became a dependent widow with a 
 large family of little ones. 
 
 'What is my duty,' said Henri to Marie ? 'It is 
 plain/ answered Marie, ' you must bring them home 
 and care for them, and we will wait." 
 
 Another ten years rolled by, and the still unoccu- 
 pied house began to overflow with its ever increasing 
 additions of furnishings. Again date for the mar- 
 riage was set when Marie's father became a hopeless 
 and helpless paralytic. 
 
 1 What is my duty now ? ' said Marie. 
 
 ' We will wait,' answered Henri. 
 
 I suppose the habit of waiting grew upon them 
 with the years, and at the age of fifty they both 
 agreed to wait indefinitely. Their simple courtship 
 and the constant furnishing and refurnishing of the
 
 172 
 
 house gave them now the pleasure of life. Everv 
 evening he made his two hours call, and on Sunday 
 afternoons they both visited the house and decided, 
 upon some appointments or alterations. 
 
 Whenever Henri was jocularly asked by any one 
 of his neighbors when he was going to marry, his 
 reply invariably was : 
 
 'Marry, marry, why if I got married where would 
 I spend my evenings.' 
 
 Age and ailments crept upon them, but they still 
 kept their youth in their courtship. When Marie's 
 time of final illness came, Henri also took to his bed. 
 Daily until her death they exchanged messages, 
 and then Henri turned his face to the wall and spoke 
 no word, three days later he too passed into the 
 hereafter. 
 
 ' He was a strange man, was that Henri Le March e, 
 said the cur6 as he ended his story, 'but he did many 
 good deeds in his life time, and who knows ? ' 
 
 The lengthening shadows on the Grange lawn and 
 the evening note of thrush warned us now that it 
 was time to make our bow and depart our ways in 
 great peace.
 
 OLD VIEW OF CAP ROUGE.
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A GRAND-FATHER 
 CLOCK 
 
 HEN the good citizens of Quebec kicked 
 out their grand-father clocks for French 
 ormulas to adorn the mantle piece, and 
 were also getting rid of their old maho- 
 gany for the more showy modern ma- 
 chine made and plush covered furniture,, 
 they little recked that their descendants some fifty 
 years later would scour the country from Dan to 
 Beersheba for those very discards or their prototypes. 
 As most of the old stuff found its way into the junk 
 shops of the period, the thrifty and well to do habitant 
 of the surrounding country bought it cheaply to 
 replace his more primitive household furniture. To 
 this he added the grand-father clock. When I was 
 a boy and much given to frequenting the country,., 
 and the houses of the habitants in the various parishes 
 adjacent to Quebec, I recall the many beautiful clocks 
 I saw and the wonderful pieces of mahogany. Some 
 of the latter had evidently belonged to the cabin fur- 
 nishings of sailing ships and was profusely inlaid with 
 brass. Even in those youthful days it attracted 
 not only my attention but excited my admiration. 
 Many of these articles had been turned to strange-
 
 174 
 
 uses. In the heyday of ship-building in Quebec, 
 hundreds of cabinet-makers were employed for the 
 interior furnishing of the vessels and many of these 
 men mostly French-Canadians were past-masters 
 in their trade. Some were positive geniuses in beau- 
 tiful creations or reproductions. 
 
 My grand-father clock, whose story I propose to 
 tell, is an instance in point. The case is a replica in 
 minute detail to the old Chippendale clock that in 
 1906 was presented to King Haakon VII on his 
 coronation, by the citizens of London. The clock 
 itself differs very materially for the reasons that I 
 shall set forth. The case of my clock was made in 
 Canada the works and face at South Hoadley. 
 Plymouth ,U. S. The mechanism is entirely of wood 
 & genuine Yankee wooden clock The face is of tin, 
 painted and gilded. There is a supposed view upon 
 it of South Hoadley which, if the painting is correct 
 appeared to consist of three wooden houses. Above 
 the XII hour numerator is a golden eagle flapping its 
 wings mounted upon a drum supported by a cannon 
 and bayonets on one side, and furled flags upon the 
 other. The hands are made of lead. The case of 
 my clock is painted black with gold stars at the 
 corners of the panels. Originally the case was of 
 cherry wood with its rich red tones but this is 
 part of my story later on. I have never had it 
 restored to its pristine beauty. As it stands to-day 
 it always reminds me somewhat of a coffin, but the 
 golden stars save the situation. 
 
 How it came into my possession, and what it fur- 
 her implies is the story.
 
 175 
 
 A good many years ago, I won't say how many, 
 I was the guest of Commodore Gregory on board his 
 famous yacht " L'Hirondelle " bound for the Sorel 
 Islands on a shooting expedition for wild fowl. 
 
 The Commodore did [most of the shooting while 
 I lounged ashore at Sorel or Berthier and visited 
 acquaintances and friends, and prowled about the 
 roads. Coming down from Lanoraie to Berthier one 
 early evening, I met an old lady trying to hold in a 
 somewhat spirited horse. She attempted to stop, as 
 she drew near me, but the horse was decided to go on, 
 whereupon I seized the beast by the bridle and 
 brought him to a halt. 
 
 " Bon Dieu ! " exclaimed the old lady, " my hus- 
 band is dead back there on the road ! " 
 
 " Get out of the buckboard at once Madame, and 
 I will see." 
 
 The poor old thing tumbled out somehow, and I 
 led the horse to the fence and secured him with all 
 sorts of hitches. 
 
 In the meantime the old lady was running down 
 the road as fast as her feeble legs would carry her. 
 I soon overtook and passed her and shortly came to 
 her husband who was lying stretched on the road and 
 with eyes closed but feebly groaning. I took his 
 pulse and finding it fairly strong I removed my coat 
 and rolling it up placed it under his head. I then 
 tested his legs and arms to see whether any were 
 broken, but as nothing indicated this, I concluded it 
 was only contusion. I got out my flask and applied 
 it to his lips. If anything will restore a genuine good
 
 176 
 
 old habitant to life it is the taste of good whiskey. 
 A few swallows and the old chap came to somewhat 
 and I lifted him to a reclining position as his wife 
 came along. 
 
 " Don't worry, Madame," said I, " it is only a few 
 bruises." 
 
 To make a long story short I brought the old fellow 
 around with another good nip, and leaving him in 
 charge of his wife I went back for the horse and trap. 
 Somehow we got him into the latter and while his 
 wife supported him I drove them home. I put him 
 to bed, and as it was now too late to return to the 
 " Hirondelle," I accepted the oft pressed invitation to 
 remain for the night. In the morning my patient 
 apart from stiffness expressed himself as all right. 
 
 The dear old lady was so unceasing and profuse of 
 thanks that I felt almost embarrassed. To relieve 
 this and get her off the subject I began to dilate on 
 the beauties of some of her old furniture and the 
 particular charm of the grand-father clock. 
 
 " You like the clock m'sieu ? " 
 
 " Very much^indeed," said I, " It is very fine." 
 
 One of the sons drove me to Berthier, and I was 
 soon aboard the " Hirondelle ", and again on the 
 shoot with the Commodore. 
 
 Three or four days later I spent the day in Sorel 
 returning to the yacht late in the evening. As I came 
 into the cabin I was assailed in most abusive terms 
 by the Commodore for sending a corpse on board 
 addressed to myself : " Going to sell it in Quebec to 
 the medical students, I suppose, I've been d d near 
 having it thrown into the St. Lawrence."
 
 177 
 
 " Ease up Commodore, and show me the corpse 
 and we'll discuss the proposition afterwards as to its 
 disposal." 
 
 The Commodore led the way forward and there 
 sure enough on the deck was a suspicious case ad- 
 dressed to Mr. Fishile, " Chaloupe L'Hirondelle ", 
 and through the chinks of the planks we could plainly 
 see a black wooden case. 
 
 " It is certainly very suspicious looking Commodore, 
 suppose we investigate further." 
 
 The crew and the mate and the boatswain too were 
 requisitioned, and an outer plank was wrenched off, 
 and lo ! there reposed my clock but in brand new 
 black coat of paint with the golden stars. 
 
 " By heavens ! " exclaimed the Commodore, "there 
 is a Hiram Twist clock the first I've seen these forty 
 years past, but in the name of all the Saints where 
 did you get it ? " 
 
 I could only imagine how it came, and then I asked 
 him about this Hiram Twist. 
 
 " Come back to the cabin," answered the Com- 
 modore, " and over our pipes I'll tell you the story." 
 
 " When I was a boy my father was a practising 
 physician in Montreal. Among his patients at times 
 was a Hiram Twist, a yankee from Meriden Connec- 
 ticut. He lived at Cdte des Neiges and carried on a 
 small clock making factory. The wooden works he 
 brought in detached parts from Connecticut. They 
 were put together in the factory and the cases were 
 also made there. Twist was of the Sam Stlick type and 
 the cleverest of clock peddlars. He would start from
 
 178 
 
 Gdte des Neiges with a great wagon load of his clocks 
 to be disposed of in the country districts. He spoke 
 no French but used an interpreter. If for any reason 
 he failed to make a sale, he would say to the habitant : 
 " Sorry my friend you do not care for a clock in your 
 house, but you can do me a great favor. I find I've 
 too heavy a load for my poor old horse. Would 
 you mind taking charge of this clock until my 
 return. I will set it up and show you how to run 
 it for it is better to keep it going, and when I get 
 back here I will try to dispose of it." 
 
 This offer never failed of acceptance, and Hiram 
 would depart his way. 
 
 Before his return some months later the clock was 
 certain to have ticked its way into the graces of the 
 entire household, but to clinch matters Twist would 
 say upon his arrival through the interpreter : 
 
 " Bonjour M'sieu L' Habitant, I am so much obliged 
 to you for caring for the clock which I have just about 
 sold to your neighbor who saw it here and admires 
 it so much. He asked me not to mention his name. 
 
 " What," replies V Habitant, " and does he think 
 we cannot afford a clock in our house, You tell 
 him M'sieu Twist that the clock belongs to me, 
 and here's the money for it." 
 
 Twist would then immediately go to the neighbor 
 and say : " Ah ! the clock I wanted you to buy is 
 sold to I'Habitant . he would not part with it for 
 any money, he finds it such a convenience, but no 
 matter my friend, I have even a better one at the 
 hotel if you will drive there with me to see it, and
 
 179 
 
 I will charge you no more for it." He of course, 
 makes the sale. 
 
 My father used to say that Twist was a remarkably 
 shrewd fellow with a wonderful fund of quaint 
 anecdote. What finally became of him I cannot say, 
 but now you know the origin of your clock.
 
 PRINCE DOLLAR 
 
 F>A.RT I 
 
 Prince Dollar, once upon a time, so runs the odd story, 
 
 Tired of a city life and yearned for country glory. 
 
 The news like wildfire spread to fartherest end of city, 
 
 Some thought him surely mad, some others wept with pity ; 
 
 But all agreed to speak to him in season 
 
 And in a friendly was attempt with him to reason. 
 
 Smith's lot it was the first to voice the very deep concern 
 
 The Prince's many iriends all felt ; it gave them all a turn 
 
 To think he would desert them. " Really, dear boy, you know 
 
 Such very sudden shocks dealt one's friends a savage blow. 
 
 They felt it unkeenly. Now to their fears allay 
 
 And assure them in Quebec you still intend to say." 
 
 The Prince, in agitation, tears streaming from his eyes, 
 
 In broken voice, between the sobs, to answer vainly tries, 
 
 For all that Smith could make out was: " He came a day too 
 
 late, 
 
 The d e was cast, the seal was set, now he must meet his fate. 
 Could Smith say whether goslings were the young of geese or 
 
 not. 
 
 Really for the season he thought it dreadful hot " 
 Jones came in next, a hearty, rough, old boy is Jones 
 Without preliminar es and in stentorian tones, 
 (And I should also add mixed up with much profanity) 
 He damned Prince Dollar's eyes, and said, 'twas sheer insanity. 
 Talk of living on a farm once living in Quebec, 
 Against such form of lunacy he'd quickly put a check, 
 Prince Dollar deeply touched again, then wiped away a 
 
 tear :
 
 A HABITANT 50 YEARS AGO.
 
 181 
 
 " Dear Jones," he said, " you may be right, you even are I fear. 
 
 I only make this sacrifice for my dear country's sake, 
 
 To show the farmers of the land the money they might make 
 
 By scientific methods, I've read the whole thing up, 
 
 Some time I will explain it all if you will with me sup. 
 
 Just now I'm estimating cost of a new kind of light 
 
 For cities towns and villages, it's sure to give delight. 
 
 It's carved from out a pumpkin, has a tallow dip inside, 
 
 It's by no means expensive, and the profiits I'll divide." 
 
 Scarce had Jones damned himself away than fair Clarinda 
 
 came, 
 
 " Dear Prince," she said, " how can you, I weep for very shame. 
 You know how awful much I. (but here she made correction) 
 How much we love you here, you've quite won our affection ; 
 And you'd derert me, us I mean, for country loves and lasses 
 Pardon dear Prince, but I think country folks all asses. 
 I'm broken-hearted quite, I thought you'd such good taste, 
 And must my dearest, tenderest, but here her bosom chaste 
 Heaved with a mighty sob and left the word unsaid. 
 Prince Dollar with a gallantry at once came to her aid. 
 " Weep not O lady fair | Time or change cannot efface 
 Your beauty from my mind, nor your sweet love replace." 
 This wa a real pretty speech, I wonder if he meant it, 
 Yet as he kissed her then it did seem to cement it. 
 " How little do you know,'.' said he, " the joys of country life, 
 The peacefulness that hangs about, the absence of all strife. 
 Do let me sing to you a song that lately I've composed, 
 It's full of every lovely thought, some few I have transposed.'! 
 In fine low tenor voice he sang, Clarinda caught the chorus, 
 If I were now to give the words I'm sure they will not bore us. 
 
 When men in cities sweat and swear. 
 Heigh-ho I sweat and swear. 
 I wander by the shady stream, 
 On mossy banks do lie and dream. 
 In all the world there is nowhere, 
 Heigh ho I is no where
 
 182 
 
 A happiness that's so complete, 
 With every joy is so replete, 
 As life down in the country. 
 
 At early morn up with the lark, 
 
 Heigh-ho ! with the lark 
 For Chloris early milks the cows, 
 Chloris, shy and blushing, vows 
 My love is but a country spark, 
 
 Heigh-ho I country spark. 
 There is no joy that's so refined, 
 There is no joy of any kind, 
 
 Like sparking in the country. 
 
 To all my city friends I say : 
 
 " Heigh-ho ! friends I say, 
 " When you've gained fortune on the street, 
 Seek out some sylvan, snug retreat 
 Where summer birds sing roundelay, 
 
 Heigh-ho I roundelay, 
 A Milkmaid's love will soothe your heart, 
 All haunting cares will quick depart, 
 Down in the country. 
 
 Clarinda clapped her little hands and shouted in great glee : 
 " Dear Prince, divine such life, I would a milkmaid be. 
 What genius to describe such scenes in words that glow like gold. 
 Does making love in early morn prevent one's taking cold ? 
 I blush to own love's warmth I find diminishes with age, 
 Not yours, my Prince, for pretty girls now I'll engage. 
 But to return to our mutton, how country that expression, 
 Do take me in your confidence and make a frank confession, 
 How can you write so fluently of joys you've not yet tasted, 
 If what you say is true how many years you've wasted." 
 
 The Prince bowed low, and thus replied: " My dear Cla- 
 rinda, 
 My heart with love's so often burnt its nothing but a cinder.
 
 183 
 
 I only write as poets write and with a poet's license, 
 I've never seen a milkmaid yet, as for the other nonsense 
 It's quite the proper thing to say when writing rural verses 
 For sentimental girls, milkmaids and silly nurses. 
 Yet Nature has, so I am told, so many moods and tenses, 
 That country life at Nature's feet quite captivates the senses. 
 I'm rather soft on Nature, all first class poets are, 
 But living in Quebec I've worshipped her afar. 
 Now all is changed, from hence we live in sweet communion, 
 Communion, dear Clarinda, is the most chaste kind of union. 
 My fancy, though poetic, the impractical I deplore, 
 I"ll make things grow upon my farm that never grew before. 
 There is nothing a Quebec man can't do if he but wills, 
 That is, provided he's prepared to foot the many bills. 
 I yearn with deepest longing to teach the country bumpkins 
 The fortunes to be quickly made by growing mammoth pump- 
 kins 
 
 But Lord ! I'll show them many things to fill them with surprise, 
 What they now lack, I will supply, and that is enterprise. 
 But there I've talked too much, it's time we said adieu, 
 A farmer's life's a busy one, I've very much to do. 
 When summer days are all aglow, and eve comes late but cheery 
 You'll come to me another Eve, and we'll be never weary. 
 Really Clarinda, not so bad that for an impromptu couplet 
 Considering for the moment I feel so very upset."
 
 PRINCE DOLLAR 
 
 Now when Princes shift their residence from city to a farm 
 It's very like the case of bees when they begin to swarm, 
 Much buzzing 'round and 'round before they finally settle. 
 Prince Dollar, I am proud to say, was made of sterner metal ; 
 " Simplicity's immense," said he, " in vain ere this I've sought it, 
 Nature unadorned is what I want and I have bought it." 
 Reader think no harm of him far stating naked fact, 
 Princes despise to clothe the truth in words not quite exact. 
 Prince Dollar meant quite all he said about extreme simplicity, 
 But the entourage of greatness still practices duplicity. 
 The members of the Prince's staff all hated country fare. 
 It's true they thought they might derive some benefit from the air. 
 But to sleep on corn-shuck beds, to eat on cold bare boards, 
 Use three-time forks and pewter spoons they all so much ab- 
 horred, 
 
 For napkins, in country fashion, wipe dainty mouth on sleeve. 
 Really it was impossible, and here to say, I grieve, 
 They put their heads together conspiracy was brewing, 
 No time elapsed before the thing was hissing and a-stewing. 
 The Prince was so absorbed these days in plans for draining 
 
 And studying agriculture from old seed catalogues, 
 That he remained quite ignorant of what was going on, 
 His only wish as oft expressed was to get out of town. 
 " There was no time to lose," he said, " the season was ad- 
 vanced, 
 The value of an early crop was very much enhanced'
 
 185 
 
 By seeding ere the snow was fully off the ground." 
 This seemed to him a doctrine entirely safe and sound. 
 The members of his household said, with him they quite 
 
 agreed, 
 
 Yet all the time they snickered and paid no further heed. 
 Their little plot was hatched and working in good order, 
 (Plots thicken and develop fast once plotters cross the border.) 
 This one, I rejoice to state, had no more serious aim 
 Than to defeat without delay the Prince's little game. 
 No Sybarites were they, nor bred to country fashion, 
 They simply had for luxury the very natural passion 
 Peculiar to Quebec and quite to the manor born. 
 Quebec, I might add here without blowing any horn, 
 Is very up-to-date and has circles quite exclusive 
 Where art and culture are discussed in manner most conclusive. 
 Eastward the Star of Empire's moved, the West is growing 
 
 musty, 
 
 Much too old fashioned in its ways, in art and culture rusty. 
 But this is by digression. Let me see, Oh ! I was saying, 
 The members of the Prince's house spent little time in praying. 
 " Hustle 'Round," that glorious well known motto of the West, 
 Each member well exemplified, they gave themselves no rest. 
 For days mysterious cases mere landed at a de"pot 
 Marked plainly: "White Pines." The clerks all muttered: 
 
 " You don't say so 1 " 
 
 But their surprised expression was full echoed by the Prince, 
 His staff had furnished country house in style that made him 
 
 wince. 
 
 Such luxury in farmer's house was never seen before, 
 It came to the Prince a rumor but still it grieved him sore.
 
 PRINCE DOLLAR 
 
 F-A.RT III 
 
 At last the great day came, Prince Dollar seized his grip, 
 
 And hurried off to catch the train, but give his friends the slip. 
 
 Leaving taking, tears, hand-shaking, and loud-voiced lamenta- 
 tion, 
 
 Upset his nerves and left him in a miserable fermentation. 
 
 Alas 1 the best laid schemes of mice and men sometimes mis- 
 carry. 
 
 For gathered on the platform was all the world by Harry ! 
 
 Waiting with grave expectancy ,and Jones it was who led, 
 
 " Dam'me ! " said he, " there is no time for talk, we'll sing a 
 song instead." 
 
 A hundred voices rose, bells and whistles made refrain. 
 
 The Prince was moved. He bowed and smiled, and smiled and 
 bowed again. 
 
 The author of the song, a most talented young lady, 
 
 Sang and wept all ber herself in corner somewhat shady ; 
 
 But modest worth in pastorals has always foremost place, 
 
 The touching song is given here the author I embrace. 
 
 Dear Prince, adieu I 
 We bid thee fond farewell. 
 Would that our tongues could tell 
 
 Our love for thee. 
 
 Dear Prince, to thee, 
 Would it were good morrow. 
 Then would our deep sorrow 
 
 Most quickly flee.
 
 187 
 
 Dear Prince Good by, 
 Forgive the falling tear. 
 No words our hearts can cheer, 
 
 So do not try. 
 
 " All aboard," was now shouted. The Prince exclaimed : " God 
 
 bless us ! " 
 
 And handed each his many friends a very fine prospectus 
 Of the " Pumpkin Light Company of White Pines Limited," 
 (A very fine investment for those with cash unlimited.) 
 Then he jumped aboard the train and stood upon the platform, 
 His emotion was so great that it shook his rather fat form. 
 May" Angels guard you 'round/' said he, then bolted in the car. 
 The train rushed off, ere very long the city was afar. 
 Before the brakesman called : " Next station all out good 
 
 folks," 
 
 (This timely warning is of help to people who are slow pokes.) 
 The Prince had so employed his time with pencil and some paper. 
 That rules for governing his farm were ready for the wafer. 
 Prince Dollar, as my readers know, was something of a bard, 
 His rules were therefore done in verse, to put upon a card. 
 How well he understood, wise man, that simple rules in rhyme 
 Were very much more quickly learned that if in prose sublime. 
 
 Be it known : The following regulations for my farm 
 If they don't work much good, they'll surely work no harm. 
 
 When rosy morn o'er yonder hill comes slowly stealing 
 
 I'll sound reveille through house on organ loudly pealing. 
 
 Up ! up 1 all hands, and hustle down ! we'll greet the rising 
 
 sun, 
 Then hustle 'round, and 'round again, there's work that must 
 
 be done. 
 
 Ladies, in milkmaids' dress, will muster for inspection 
 Later in the milking field will hold a short reception.
 
 188 
 
 Gentlemen will wear jean suits and pay the maids attention, 
 But never must they violate society's convention. 
 
 At prompt six a frugal meal will be by all partaken, 
 
 As cheerfulness begets good health let us the welkin' waken. 
 
 The ladies will at Seven A.M. group gracefully on rugs. 
 At Eight the gentlemen go out to pick potato bugs. 
 At Ten we'll wipe the sweat of honest labor from our brows, 
 Then to the ladies once again will we renew our vows. 
 
 At Twelve, M. precise all hands will gather for the luncheon 
 Soup, pork and beans, brown bread, with beer drawn from a 
 puncheon. 
 
 The afternoon we'll dedicate to sleep or to light reading, 
 Ladies may, if so they will, list to their lovers' pleading. 
 
 When low the fiery summer sun declines in Golden West 
 The gentlemen and ladies will again be up and drest. 
 Swallow-tails and low-neck gowns I claim are quite de rigueur, 
 Even in the country one must set the proper figure. 
 
 At Seven P.M. keen appetites await the coming feast. 
 Dining, good friends, of all our joys, is by no means the least. 
 Contentment lurks therein, starved stomachs have no pretty wit, 
 And poorly filled, I'm convinced, have not a bit. 
 
 When evening pleasures dulling, comes sleepy, stilly night, 
 I'll read a chapter from my book on Agricultural Blight. 
 It's most exceeding clever, and must make a great sensation, 
 It deals with novels theories that will prove an education. 
 
 At Ten, candles will be handed to those not yet asleep, 
 Then to your chamber, lights out and into bed you creep.
 
 189 
 
 The reader will agree with me the Prince was born to rule, 
 Such wisdom as is here displayed is never learned at school. 
 His case bears out the idea of a well known German King, 
 Divinity in rulers is the only proper thing. 
 Prince Dollar came of kingly race, not that he ever said so, 
 It was a fate he couldn't help, it was simply he was made so. 
 
 As Princes travelling incog, court no demonstration 
 No one came down to meet the Prince at White Pines' Station. 
 " Wagon, Mister ? " shouted the small boy from under a big hat. 
 " Well yes, I guess I will," said Prince. " How much to where 
 
 I'm at ?" 
 " Come down from dat,'' exclaimed the small boy, " You'll pay 
 
 me fifty cents, 
 
 I'm up to all them catches of you smart city gents. 
 Say, you're booked for White Pines, your grip shows up your 
 
 hand. 
 Gee the chap what owns that place must be loaded up with 
 
 sand. 
 
 Pop says : "Damn boys ! that kind of farming is all ve y nice 
 Provided what the feller is prepared to go the Price." 
 Punkins at ten dollars don't set well on Pop's stummick. 
 It's dandy though up there everything bang-up and slick. 
 Gosh ! Mister, is there a show for a feller down Quebec 
 To make his pile just a reasonable fairish peck ? 
 There, Mister, see where them flags and petticoats is flyin', 
 That's the shack, and here's the farm Prince Dollar's been a 
 
 buyin.' 
 
 You'll walk across the fields from here I Well I'll jes' say, so-long. 
 If I charge you a dollar you cannot call it far wrong." 
 
 Although Prince Dollar carried grip he seemed to walk on a r, 
 The smells he smelt, the scenes he saw, were all so fresh and fair, 
 His tender heart quite overflowed in grateful satisfaction, 
 He whistled some old boyhood tune, then wondered at his action, 
 Made several hops-skips-and-jumps, and had a back presented 
 A game of leap-frog, I am sure, could not have been prevented.
 
 190 
 
 When he stepped on the verandah the sight that met his eyes 
 
 .Left him speechless for a moment in a dazed sort of surprise. 
 
 There grouped upon the lawn, like chorus in spectacular, 
 
 In costumes quite correct to most minute particular, 
 
 The gentlemen hi shirt sleeves, carrying mugs and wooden flails, 
 
 The ladies in their milkmaids dress all holding milking pails. 
 
 The moment they caught sight of Prince they gave him three 
 
 loud cheers, 
 The gentlemen dipped mugs in pails then drank his health in 
 
 beers. 
 
 Next came a song. It plainly shows a city woman's hands, 
 It came to me signed Clarinda I give it, as it stands. 
 
 Prince Dollar's a farmer, a farmer bold, 
 And a right kind of farmer is he, 
 His spade is of silver, his plow is of gold, 
 And his crops are a marvel to see. 
 
 His " rye," he will tell you, is quite forty odd, 
 The cows yield milk punches and flip, 
 And dear little mushrooms grow out of the sod 
 To serve with his roaster a " slip.'-' 
 
 Mint juleps he grows by a cool shady stream, 
 Egg-nogs are laid fresh by his hens, 
 A nanny supplies him with plenty of cream, 
 The lambs eat green peas in their pens. 
 
 Apple sauce to his pork is fed for a relish, 
 To his mutton goes capers galore, 
 The turkeys eat cranberries out of a dish, 
 Punkin pies grow in fields by the score. 
 
 The strawberry shortcake in hot house is grown, 
 But his raspberry dumblings grow wild, 
 The gooseberry tarts are everywhere sown, 
 Apple pies 'neath the trees are oft piled.
 
 191 
 
 His squash into lanterns are turned in the field, 
 The sight most grotesque in the night, 
 The sauer kraut from cabbage, a very fine yield, 
 But his turnips and lettuce have blight. 
 
 " Ladier and gentlemen," said the Prince, " this a proud day. 
 Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I think I may safely say, 
 This a proud day. I might say, the proudest day 
 Ladies and gentlemen, that I've ever known, so to say. 
 And, ladies and gentlemen, for this reception to-day 
 I feel most uncommon proud and happy that is to say." 
 
 This very eloquent reply so very well achieved 
 Was by the maids and threshers most graciously received. 
 
 Scarce had the Prince retired for rest and quiet seclusion 
 Than something in the house below caused very great confusion. 
 The Prince, at door, pajama clad, demanded what the row was. 
 Antonio coming up replied : " It's only jus' cos' 
 A telegram, Sah, has jus' arrived marked most important." 
 The Prince said : " Bring it up at once, this very instant." 
 Alas^! Conceive dear reader if yon can his great dismay, 
 It was a beastly message that called him right away. 
 " Return to Quebec at once. Business the most urgent. 
 Panic most likely brewing Finances in a ferment." 
 
 " Damn ! " said Prince Dollar, " My dream of life's most 
 likely ended. 
 
 The summons, I suppose, must be at once attended. 
 Tony, pack up my things I take the first freight 
 train." 
 The following day the Prince was at his desk again. 
 
 The narrative ends somewhat abruptly, but beyond this 
 point the author has never succeeded in securing absolutely 
 reliable information. There is a tradition that Prince Dollar 
 did return to White Pines and that the world famed Dollar 
 Pumpkin, so large y grown now, was first produced an the Prince's 
 >farm.
 
 RHYMES AND JINGLES 
 
 A MOOD 
 
 The silence of the winter wood is sweet, 
 
 When times there are the mind and hearts' unrest 
 
 In solitude would seek no other breast, 
 
 Though warm it beats responsive and discreet. 
 
 Within the cloisters of the wood's retreat, 
 
 Solemn and hushed, I am alone the guest, 
 
 Their holy calm to mind and heart so blest 
 
 I feel a joy ecstatic and replete. 
 
 Homeward again do I my footsteps turn 
 
 And lo ! the meads, before so coldly gray, 
 
 Are carpeted in richest golden fleece, 
 
 While all the village windows fiercely burn 
 
 As slowly down the west the orb of day 
 
 Sinks into night, and all my world is peace. 
 
 9 
 THE ISLAND OF COVENHOVEN 
 
 Lovely art thou sweet isle of blessed peace, 
 
 A dreamland far from ocean's wild uproar. 
 
 Soft mists and lapping tides float 'round they shore, 
 
 And world's unrest and hateful noises cease. 
 
 Here from life's burdens do we find release, 
 
 The solitude we crave for evermore, 
 
 Not that drear waste that human souls abhor, 
 
 But life's unrippled calm, the golden fleece 
 
 Of age now done with youths long discontent. 
 
 How gently time in this beloved spot 
 
 Would crown our days, and gentle the descent 
 
 Into the vale af years, the world forgot, 
 
 With many tranquil joys the while between 
 
 Our sun like that of day would set serene.
 
 193 
 
 THE WARRING NATIONS PRAY 
 
 Each prays God's wrath upon its hated foe, 
 
 God the omniscient and of mercy just 
 
 Shall be incarnate now in thirst and lust 
 
 Of blood and conquest and a people's woe, 
 
 In right of wisdom shall take sides, and so, 
 
 Lend strength of arm to crumble into dus 
 
 One nation's pride that other may up-thrust 
 
 Its own, and say : " To thee O God ! we owe 
 
 This signal downfall of a mighty host. 
 
 The blood of many thousands stains our hands, 
 
 We've devastated homes, let loose the flames, 
 
 And sunk great fleets of ships upon the coasts. 
 
 Gaunt famine stalks throughout the waste of lands. 
 
 We thank thee God ! ". And all the world acclaims. 
 
 9 
 "WHITE OAKS U, 
 
 I love the rugged old white oak 
 
 Deep rooled and firm of the soil, 
 
 Its umbrageous leaves the great cloak 
 
 That hides all the signs of its toil, 
 
 The battles and sieges and strife 
 
 The elements ceaselessly wage 
 
 To rob it of beauty and life, 
 
 It yet stands for strength of old age. 
 
 Its leaves are the grace of its soul 
 Fresh and green as in days of youth, 
 And though it draws near to the goal 
 It still speaks of beauty and truth, 
 For its knotted and gnarled old trunk 
 Is sound yet and true at the heart, 
 And its arms so twisted and shrunk 
 Still spread out in blessings apart.
 
 194 
 
 I love the land of the white oak 
 
 And him who has built neath the shade 
 
 Of those staunch old trees that awoke 
 
 The love for the home he has made. 
 
 Dear " White Oaks " thy beauty and grace 
 
 A tribute from him to this love, 
 
 And the home that he loveth the race 
 
 Of white oaks will hover above." 
 
 9 
 THE THISTLE AND ITS FOE 
 
 Bowed by half a century he leans 
 Upon himself and gazes all around. 
 The caulking care of ages in his face, 
 And on his back a well worn coat. 
 What makes him dead to rupture and despair, 
 A man that smiles not at my hoary jokes, 
 Who with set teeth and fierce burning eyes 
 Tramps o'er the fields his hoe in hand, 
 The sweat of labor standing on his brow, 
 The light of labor burning in his brain. 
 What is this thing he seeks so far and wide. 
 That has dominion over all his lands, 
 Fur which he asks the stars and heavens 
 For power to grub from off the face of earth, 
 Yea, even in his sleep he cries aloud for strength 
 And wishes this foul thing in hell to its last gulf, 
 This menace to his peace and to the universe. 
 
 More tongued with censure and with profane words, 
 More filled with stings and hurtful to the flesh 
 Than any other thing in Nature wide domain. 
 What griefs it raises between him and his friends 
 Slaves of much idleness, what pray to him 
 Are Bahac or " The Awakening " of Chopin 
 The rifts of dawn, the tanning of his nose,
 
 195 
 
 Through this dread thing the suffering ages look 
 
 To him, and hence his aching stoop. 
 
 O Masters ! lords ! and rulers in all lands 
 
 You'll have to reckon with this man, 
 
 Who with his hoe-hoes on forever on, 
 
 At every stroke a thistle slain 
 
 A cursed thing destroyed for e'er and e'er. 
 
 And down the centuries to come his name 
 
 Shall pass, the benefactor of his race. 
 
 9 
 AFTER THE RUBAIYAT 
 
 Friend I Who calleth thus must prove his right, 
 Steady his lamp shall burn like beacon light. 
 Friendship is not like love's consuming flame 
 Tha flaring high goes out in darkest night. 
 
 Since from life's flowing wine-cup thou do'th sip 
 Not of the dregs but from the very lip, 
 Lend of thy joy to me some smallest part 
 A thought, a word, or even gentle quip. 
 
 When we give of our best with others share 
 Let it be wine, or love, or friendship rare, 
 Life yields its essence of supremest joy. 
 For as we give we're sure to find elsewhere. 
 
 What does life give within its narrow span, 
 Some youth, some love the rest we quickly scan, 
 The lamp burns low, the wine has lost its taste, 
 The morning comes, and lo ! lies dead the man. 
 
 Happy then he who neither has nor wants 
 For Envy Care seek not his humble haunts. 
 Ambition cruel master knows him not, 
 And only fools revile him with their taunts.
 
 196 
 
 No sooner life than death conies on the stage, 
 Not now O Death ! and fierce the fight we wage. 
 When later on our wine-cup emptied stands : 
 " O Death ! " we cry, " come claim thy heritage. 
 
 How strange a thing is life with its few years, 
 Then silence of the grave, forgotten tears. 
 Dust we become within a space of time, 
 While on forever roll the mighty spheres. 
 
 DOING NOTHING 
 
 " Papa," said a little maid in discontented voice, 
 
 " You never romp, or run, or play, 
 
 But sit and write, and write away. 
 Now I would do just nothing if I only had my choice." 
 
 I gave the little maid a kiss and granted her desire, 
 
 To curl up in my big arm-chair, 
 
 To play at doing nothing there ; 
 The joy of doing nothing, only blinking at my fire. 
 
 " Papa," sighed the little maid, somewhat later it is true, 
 
 " I'd like to see what you have writ, 
 
 Or perhaps you'd read a little bit ; 
 I'm tried of doing nothing, and there's nothig else to do." 
 
 Then I told the little maid, as she sat upon my knee, 
 How giants Idle-hands and Empty-mind 
 Were the miserablest of all mankind, 
 
 Because, forsooth, they suffered so from ennui.
 
 197 
 
 TO SIR ADOLPHE CHAPLEAU (1) 
 
 Your health again old friend before we part. 
 Alas ! no tie so fond but time must ever, 
 Still would we linger here and joy forever 
 In that free converse warming heart to heart ; 
 While you with skilful, ever ready art, 
 Yet holding always firmly to the lever, 
 Lend thought to pretty wit, but malice never. 
 Thus speed you on the hours like bowman's dart. 
 And we must say good-by ? Oh ! hateful thought ! 
 Would that it only were plain good-morrow 
 To make a drear farewell but half a sorrow 
 Like as a cloud which hath a rainbow caught. 
 Adieu, dear friend ! our grieving goes for naught, 
 Fate wills the hour, from hope we may not borrow. 
 
 CORPORAL TACKLE, LATELY FROM KINGSTON MILI- 
 TARY COLLEGE, TO TOMMY ATKINS 
 
 You makes me tired you Tommys wots always on the grumble 
 About your work, about your drill, you 'ate them, and you mum- 
 ble, 
 
 The captain'e's too fussy and the Serjeant 'e's too 'ard, 
 The leftenant's sometimes nasty, and 'e's not much of a card, 
 You damn's your luck, you curses fate, you dislikes the sitiva- 
 
 tion, 
 
 You don't see wot's the use of drills or pipe clay regalation. 
 You ain't 'alf fed, you ain't 'alf clothed, the canteen is a fraud, 
 The pay is poor for blody work, there's nothing you can laud. 
 
 And it only goes to show you 'ave'nt any pride. 
 
 Your only Tommy Atkins, 'e never puts on side. 
 
 1. Read at Dinner given by the Cercle des Dix to Sir Adolphe 
 Chapleau on the eve of his departure from Quebec.
 
 198 
 
 Now the captain wot you think a fuss, the left, you say is fresh, 
 .'Ave 'ad their bloomin' eye-teeth cut, they knows you in the 
 
 flesh. 
 
 The college wot they comes from is a milingtary mill, 
 Wot grinds them'ard in sciences and keeps them to their drill. 
 They've done all your nasty work, and much you'll never do 
 Before they comes to learn you to be soldiers good and true. 
 And I'm the boy wot knows it, I've lately come from there, 
 I was purfessor of the goose-step, and 'ow to cut the air. 
 
 And it only goes to show they've lots of pride. 
 
 Your only Tommy Atkins, 'e never puts on side. 
 
 For three long years they works and slaves and drills like little 
 
 men, 
 They keep their kits, and blacks their boots, and studies until 
 
 ten. 
 
 At peep o' day they're up and out, with classes every hour 
 In everythin wot goes to make a soldier a right bower. 
 The pipe clay regalations wot you' ate they learns to know is right, 
 That discipline is wot you wants before you're fit to fight. 
 Then they leads you into battle, and your country says with pride, 
 " There's none like Tommy Atkins tho' 'e never puts on side." 
 
 And it only goes to show if you 'ave a little pride 
 Though you're only Tommy Atkins you may yet put on side. 
 
 9 
 AN ANGLER'S LAMENT 
 
 DEDICATED TO I. EMERSON PALMER, ESQ. 
 
 Dam' me ! that I should other fish to fry 
 When trout like magnet, draw me to the North, 
 And in my dreams I'm ever casting fly 
 On limpid lake, then waking I am wroth 
 To find that in some meshes I but flounder 
 As helpless as a bird to a limed perch 
 Instead of having landed a four pounder. 
 For sucker from my fate I vainly search,
 
 199 
 
 My friends all carp and say I cod them, 
 Yet, do they drink my bass, and in my herring 
 Laugh at my pickerel and my beer condemn. 
 If I haddock-ed 'em then, without fearing 
 My ale-wife's wrath, I'd had 'em on a pike, 
 A grinning crowd of sardines small minnow. 
 But my wife s'had smelt a mouse, and like 
 Mother, who'd rather see her sun-fish now, 
 Has on porpoise brought me to this sorry pass. 
 But I'll get square, I'll yet whale all creation 
 When once I'm free, for I'm bound to amass 
 Gold fish, and fame ; egad ! I'm for sensation. 
 Not even shall a weak-fish pass me then, 
 And many a blue- fish will lament its mate. 
 I must show myself a man among men 
 That I was born to fisherman's estate. 
 
 VANDALS SPARE THAT WALL 
 
 (After " Woodman Spare That Tree.") 
 
 Vandals spare that wall ! 
 Touch not a single stone I 
 We would not see it fall. 
 It must be let alone 1 
 We've guarded it before 
 From foes of other lands, 
 We'll fight for it once more 
 To stay the traitor's hands. 
 
 That old familiar wall, 
 Whose glory and renown 
 Is known to one and all, 
 And you will tear it down ? 
 Vandals, forbear your threat ; 
 Leave that old wall to time, 
 The world would not forget, 
 Were you to do this crime.
 
 200 
 
 When we were idle boys 
 At soldiers there we played, 
 We do not yet forget those joys, 
 The friendships there we made. 
 Forgive this foolish tear, 
 We cannot bear to think, 
 That ever day drew near 
 To rob us of this link. 
 
 Fond memories round it cling ; 
 
 It binds us to the past. 
 
 Would you our heartstrings wring, 
 
 And tear it down at last ? 
 
 Old wall, the storms still brave ! 
 
 Vandals, leave this spot : 
 
 While we've a hand to save, 
 
 Your acts shall harm it not. 
 
 9 
 CANADA'S SONS ARE THY SONS. (1 > 
 
 Art thou among my children ? 
 Then hearken to my call. 
 Thy brothers wait upon thee, 
 Now hasten lest they fall. 
 
 The bond of Empire binds thee, 
 The ties of blood are thick. 
 Answer before thine own sons, 
 But let thy aid be quick. 
 
 1. Written when the call came to Canada for aid in the 
 Boer war.
 
 201 
 
 Mother of mighty Empire 
 Thou callest not in vain. 
 We of thy womb have hearkened, 
 And we respond again. 
 
 Canada's sons are thy sons, 
 Loyal are they to each. 
 Witness O God ! of battles 
 The lesson this will teach. 
 
 A unit when foe threatens, 
 Resistless in our might. 
 The call to arms we answer, 
 Shoulder to shoulder fight. 
 
 The bond that binds us ever, 
 The flag that flies on high, 
 We glory in as Britons ; 
 For it we'll fight and die. 
 
 Send to our brothers greeting, 
 Bid them be of good heart. 
 Brothers to brothers hasten, 
 Only in death to part. 
 
 9 
 THE TRUTHFUL ANGLER. 
 
 " Why is it that," you sadly ask, 
 " The truthful angler finds his task 
 
 Of yarning true, 
 A dreary, thankless one at best, 
 For he is classed among the rest 
 
 A liar, too ? " 
 
 The reason why I cannot tell ; 
 No one relates a yarn so well 
 
 As you and me, 
 
 And yet, forsooth, it is our luck, 
 Although to truth we've always stuck, 
 
 To doubted be.
 
 202 
 
 Suppose from hence we change our base, 
 From telling truth the truth we'll chase 
 
 With telling lie ; 
 
 The wiggling trout a monster fish, 
 Served up for ten, a mighty dish, 
 
 In a fish pie. 
 
 The world will doubt or even jeer, 
 But to our stories we'll adhere 
 
 Through thick and thin ; 
 The oft repeated tales, we know, 
 To truths in minds of anglers grow, 
 
 So lets begin. 
 
 BREAD AND BUTTER FRENCH 
 
 By Cook of Boston. Easy way of getting French language 
 
 enough to eat, drink, sleep, ride and travel in France. 
 
 Sent postpaid for 15 cts., in cash or stamps. 
 
 Add res: 
 C. S. COOK, 24 WINTER ST., BOSTON. 
 
 See what the " Hermit Poet " of Cap Rouge says : 
 
 " Ask and you shall receive," says Cook, 
 
 " If you'll but memorize my book. 
 
 It's simple French for simple things, 
 
 Bread and butter to diamond rings." 
 
 It's awf 'lly simple is Cook's French, 
 
 It gives to English no side wrench ; 
 
 For nose well held in a firm clasp 
 
 Cook's French is well within one's grasp. 
 
 It's all so easy, if you'll but think, 
 
 To pinch your nose when you want a drink.
 
 203 
 
 " Garson," you say, " donnay mwha vair doe,". 
 
 Or if it's your hat, you say, " Shappo." 
 
 If the gargon should make reply 
 
 Pay no attention. The reason why ? 
 
 You won't understand, for Cook does not, 
 
 Give a thought, not he, to a Frenchy's rot. 
 
 With him to ask is to receive, 
 
 Any back talk would make him grieve ' 
 
 " Zhe swee American, Garson, vwa-lar, 
 
 Vair doe, toot sweet, donnay mwah." 
 
 In gay Paree, Cook's book in hand, 
 
 Americans can beat the band. 
 
 9 
 MAPLE LEAVES (1) 
 
 The shades of darkness gathered fast, 
 And 'round the corners swept the blast, 
 As came the Knight mid snow and ice 
 With banneret and loved device. 
 Maple Leaves ! 
 
 From happy home came this brave Knight, 
 From household fire both warm and bright, 
 Yet from his lip escaped no groan, 
 Upon his banner there still shone. 
 Maple Leaves ! 
 
 His brow was set, his eye it flashed, 
 As at the festal door he dashed, 
 And like a silver clarion rung 
 The accent of that well known tongue. 
 Maple Leaves ! 
 
 1. Read at the dinner given to Sir Jas. M. Lemoine at the 
 Garrison Club by his numerous admirers to celebrate his having 
 receceived a knighthood at the Hands of Her Majesty for his 
 literary services to Canada.
 
 204 
 
 Welcome Sir James ! was shouted loud, 
 Your presence here does us all proud. 
 A tear stood in his hazel eye, 
 But yet he answered with a sigh 
 Maple Leaves I 
 
 " We drink to your health," the Chairman said, 
 May tempest ne'er break o'er our head, 
 Your pen continue still to wield. 
 The Knight he answered : "It shall yield " 
 Maple Leaves ! 
 
 They rung the praise of the city's past, 
 Knew that its glory would ever last 
 Enshrined within his books. 
 He whispered low, with ardent looks 
 Maple Leaves I 
 
 They spoke of all his deeds with pen 
 To make their Province known of men ; 
 They loved him for his kindly way. 
 In deep low voice we heard him say 
 Maple Leaves 1 
 
 " O stay," we cried, " the night with us ! 
 To-morrow morning take the 'bus 
 The road at night is dark and drear." 
 His answer rang out loud and clear 
 Maple Leaves ! 
 
 Beware the avalanche of fame 
 That sometimes dims the muses flame 1 
 This was the company's good night. 
 His voice replied : "I'll keep in sight' 
 Maple Leaves !
 
 205 
 " THE STAGING OF THE SHAKSPERE CLUB " (1) 
 
 With tragic mien, Shakspere tucked unffer arm, we entered in 
 the stage, 
 
 " For all the world's a stage, and men and women merely play- 
 ers." 
 
 " Farewell 1 Othello's occupation's gone," Desdemona's now 
 the rage. 
 
 " I dare do all that may become a man," so let us in our prayers 
 
 " Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world " from out of 
 sight. 
 
 '* Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths," we make 
 haste 
 
 " To leave this keen encounter with our wits," ere lonesome 
 night 
 
 Shall come " When graveyards yawn " ; ghosts are little to our 
 taste. 
 
 OUT stage manager now takes the lines, and mountng to his seat: 
 
 " A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! " he cried aloud. 
 
 " Steed threatens steed in high and boastful neigh," and oft re- 
 peat, 
 
 " For who would bear the whips and scorns of time '- in any 
 crowd. 
 
 Besides, " he must go that the devil drives," whips are also 
 factors. 
 
 And now we are " flying between the cold moon and the earth " 
 
 " Ministers of grace defend us I " Our revels now are ended, the 
 actors 
 
 Have said, " farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content," fare- 
 well to mirth. 
 
 1. These lines were.suggested'upon witnessing the departure, 
 by stage, of the ladies of the Shakspere Club from " Meadow- 
 bank." As the reader will note every line contains a Shakspe- 
 rianjquotation.
 
 206 
 
 " But now I'm cabinned, cribbed, confined, bound in " to 
 journey's end 
 
 I'll twig the others, "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer,". 
 
 " And seem a saint, when most I play the devil " ; or to lend 
 
 " A beggarly account of empty boxes," and act the duffer. 
 
 Turning to the others, " who sat like patience on a monument," 
 
 In dramatic tones I said: " Speak of me as I am, nothing exten- 
 uate," 
 
 " My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time." Calumny 
 has sent 
 
 Her shafts, " the play's the thing," all else I simply hate. 
 
 " The jack," exclaimed Kathia, " belikes he thinks that Pro- 
 
 teous hath forsook him." 
 " I will speak daggers to him, but use none," for we throw no 
 
 stone. 
 " A Daniel come to judgment I yea, a Daniel," let us then book 
 
 him. 
 " Mark thou, how plain a tale shall put you down," and truth 
 
 alone, 
 " Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy," " as makes the angels 
 
 weep." 
 " Tis the mind that makes the body rich," no dress of stage 
 
 will do ; 
 
 " A little fire is quickly trodden out," genius alone will keep ; 
 " The glass of fashion and the mould of form " are both to life 
 
 untrue. 
 
 Then spake fair Rosalind ; " I have no other but a woman's 
 reason", 
 " By telling truth, tell truth and shame the devil," for I verily 
 
 trow 
 
 " The course of true love never did run smooth " in any season. 
 " But here upon this bank and shoal of time " let us all show 
 " Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge " ; among us jealousy 
 
 must caese.
 
 207 
 
 *' We are such stuff as dreams are made of," men will have it thus, 
 And " life is but a walking shadow " which may lengthen or 
 
 decrease, 
 As " one fire burns out another's burning '.' ; this stage is but 
 
 a 'bus. 
 
 The manager here stuck his head, in, and mimicing our manner : 
 Ladies how fare you all, though fair you be, have you the fare 
 
 for me ? 
 " Put money in thy purse," " how use doth breed a habit in a 
 
 man," said Hannah. 
 " O, my prophetic soul I my uncle I " exclaimed Miss Z , 
 
 " I felt that it must be." 
 " Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety " I have 
 
 some change, 
 Cried Dara. What pay ? said Blanche, " Base is the slave that 
 
 pays." 
 " Even though he rage like an angry boar, chafed with sweat. "- 
 
 It it not strange 
 " They laugh that win " Is not that what our Shakspere says ? 
 
 Ladies " my poverty but not my will consents " to ask for paltry 
 
 pay. 
 
 Full well you know that " suffrance is the badge of all my tribe." 
 
 Yet, " he is well paid that is well satisfied," and if you will con- 
 sent to play 
 
 Some scene from Merry Wives of Windsor you may call it a bribe. 
 
 " 111 blows the wind that profits nobody," and I shall be well 
 pleased. 
 
 So " screw your courage to the sticking point," take parts, and 
 pray begin. 
 
 " A lion among ladies is a dreadful thing " but only when he's 
 teased. 
 
 Now, " give us a taste of your quality " while through the win- 
 dow I peep in. 
 
 " That he is mad' 'tis pity," yet, there's method in it as you 
 see.
 
 208 
 
 " O, how full of briars is this working day world " even for us 
 
 " When man plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven," 
 and we 
 
 " Will plead like angels, trumpet tongued," to try to still the 
 fuss. 
 
 " Screw your courage to the sticking point," let's pay what we 
 are owing. 
 
 " What a falling off was there," though many of us had to bor- 
 row. 
 
 " The last of all the Romans fare-thee-well." " Stand not upon 
 the order of your going," 
 
 And now, " Good night, good night, parting is such sweet 
 sorrow." 
 
 COMES DREAR NOVEMBER 
 
 With cloud and chilling wind comes drear November, 
 And dull, dark hours with saddened memories strewn, 
 Sweet summer dead how well do I remember 
 Her first warm kiss of love in days of June. 
 Then followed months of rapturous delight, 
 Low songs of joy that filled the verdant grove, 
 While myriad flowers lent fragrance to the night, 
 And love drank deep from out the wells of love. 
 Yet she, my own true love, is now no more. 
 And empty-armed I waken from my dreams, 
 I am as one upon some desert shore, 
 Who, thirsting, seeks in vain for cooling streams.
 
 - 209 
 BOSTON PORK AND BEANS 
 
 The heathen in his blindness knows not New England's law, 
 That all her people must obey or else must they withdraw, 
 Though not upon the statute book this law is strict enforced, 
 And by those to the manner born is lovingly endorsed. 
 On Sunday morn, so says this law, let wordly labor cease, 
 And as a fit beginning for this day of calm and peace, 
 Let those of every station, no matter what their means 
 Indulge themselves most heartily in Boston pork and beans. 
 
 The heathen in his blindness knows not New England's pride, 
 The thing by which she would be known to nations far and 
 
 wide, 
 
 Which she sets above her culture, above her wealth or mines, 
 And glories in exceeding as the one thing that refines, 
 But of culture mines and riches let other people sing, 
 Refinement, you poor heathen is a very different thing, 
 This she alone possesses (I've been behind the scenes, 
 And this thing that's so refinining is her Boston pork and beans. 
 
 The heathen is his blindness worships idiols made of stone, 
 He loves the missionary as he cracks his marrow bone, 
 But of culture he learns nothing, for a missionary boiled, 
 Is not the most refining thing but a missionary spoiled, 
 He never will be civilized or brought into the fold 
 Until the Boston drummer, with cleverness untold, 
 And by manners that insinuate, and sundry other means 
 Introducers her refinement in her Boston pork and beans. 
 
 AUTUMN 
 
 Autumn, with pigments rare, 
 From out of Nature's bounteous store to choose, 
 
 With magic brush to dare, 
 Tints wood and field in gorgeous sunset hues.
 
 210 
 To ROBERT BLEAKIE, ESQ. 
 
 I'm proppit up i' bed to write, 
 An' while I know its no polite 
 
 A pencil letter, 
 
 It's no my fault nor want of will, 
 It only is that I am ill 
 
 An' can't do better. 
 
 A pesky ailment's got me grippit, 
 While dirty druggs I fain must sippit 
 
 An' ither slop, 
 
 They say to bring the fever doun. 
 My belly tells me I maun droun 
 
 If they'll no stop. 
 
 I wnd'na say it oot an' oot 
 For Doc. an' wife may be aboot, 
 
 I dinna grumble, 
 
 I'm at the thocht just fairly grinnin' 
 To think how each now gets an innin' 
 
 To keep me humble. 
 
 Weel, humble pie from lovin' hands 
 Is no so bad as ither brands, 
 
 I'll tak my share, 
 
 And wish that no worse fate is mine. 
 I'd drink to wife and love in wine 
 
 If I might dare. 
 
 But all of this is Scotch preamble, 
 Now to my subjject I maun scramble 
 
 As best I may, 
 
 For mind and body weak an' ailin' 
 I fear on outer seas I'm sailin' 
 
 Somewhat astray.
 
 211 
 
 I'm verra anxious, Sir, to learn, 
 For I've been filled wi' deep concern 
 
 An' dismay surely, 
 How now you fare, for I made note, 
 You made complaint when last you wrote 
 
 That you were poorly ? 
 
 It's fearsome quite to think young bloods 
 Who've breasted high life's troubled floods 
 
 Like you and me, 
 
 Should at our time feel pains and aches, 
 My pencil in my hand fair shakes, 
 
 Sad sight to see. 
 
 But I'm no deid nor yet are you, 
 My promise made will yet come true 
 
 A joysome meetin'. 
 All pains and aches then laid aside 
 We'll hae a crack, an' no a guide 
 
 To mark time fileetin'. 
 
 Losh, mon dear, I hear your voice, 
 Some rare Scotch yarn no over choice 
 
 for budding maids, 
 
 But good strong stnff for men (not wives) 
 To point the moral of our lives, 
 We're still young blades. 
 
 So for the nonce we'll sweat in pain 
 An' bide our chance to gang again 
 
 Our ain old gait. 
 
 Some fights to fight, tears, sorrows, joys, 
 For life is made of strange alloys, 
 
 Such is man's fate.
 
 212 
 
 Yet when I weigh life's strange compounds 
 The gold of good piles up in mounds 
 
 Full well I know. 
 And in this gold of good I find 
 Love, friends and truth that ever bind 
 
 Howe'er winds blow. 
 
 TO MARY 
 
 Dear tiny toddler, in thy baby way, 
 Prattling like the brook is soft droning day. 
 Rippled o'er with smiles when bright shines the sun, 
 " Cuddle down " thy song when long day is done. 
 Laughing rosy morn, waking from the night, 
 Not so fair as thou, my soul's sweet delight. 
 Happy as the hour, every joy is thine, 
 Tendrils of thy love all our hearts entwine. 
 Angels guard thee o'er, may thy years be peace, 
 Blessed thou of God, love will never cease. 
 
 TO BLANCHE 
 
 More dainty, for sweeter than what I enclose, 
 
 Is my dear little Blanche with a little pug nose, 
 
 With a quick little tongue and a real pretty wit 
 
 Who hits very hard, but who cares not a bit 
 
 If she only gets peppermints, candy and gum, 
 
 Then life is all sunshine though others look glum, 
 
 But I'll never look glum, but be happy alway 
 
 If she'll smile upon one in her sunshiny way 
 
 And be merry and cheery, she may babble and prattle 
 
 But when I steal kiss I hope she won't tattle 
 
 For a kiss for a sweetie, a kiss to one girlie 
 
 Is what 7 think sweetest to take late and early. 
 
 Now good-by little sweet-heart, think sometimes of me 
 
 When sucking these peppermints under a tree.
 
 213 
 A CHRISTMAS WISH 
 
 God keep you in good health, 
 Increase your wordly wealth 
 
 For all good ends. 
 Give you warm heart to joy, 
 Love that may never cloy, 
 
 And true, tried friends. 
 If in this faith you stand, 
 Peace and content command 
 
 Upon this sphere. 
 Then shall your Xmas be 
 Filled with great jollity 
 
 And much good cheer. 
 
 9 
 O CHILDREN I DO COME TELL ME 
 
 Is this the merry Christmas 
 
 Of years and years gone by, 
 
 When good Saint Nick with Reindeers quick 
 
 Drove through the stany sky ? 
 
 O children ! do come tell me, 
 
 Come tell me is it true, 
 
 That hearts yet fill and feel the thrill 
 
 That my heart used to do ? 
 
 Is this the merry Christmas 
 
 Of years and years long since, 
 
 When as a boy in boundless joy 
 
 Ne'er envied I a prince ? 
 
 O children ! do come tell me, 
 
 Come tell me if you can, 
 
 Is Christmas, pray, the same sweet day 
 
 Since I became a man ?
 
 214 - 
 
 Somehow the merry Christmas, 
 
 Of years and years remote, 
 
 Had not a care, now everywhere 
 
 I hear its sounding note. 
 
 O children ! do come help me, 
 
 Come help me for you must, 
 
 To seek once more the shining shore 
 
 Of youth with all its trust. 
 
 You say this merry Christmas 
 You'll help me might and main, 
 And with my aid you're not afraid 
 But I'll feel young again. 
 O Children 1 further tell me 
 Should I join in your game, 
 And play with toys and raise a noise, 
 Would Christmas be the same ? 
 
 Alas ! the merry Christmas, 
 
 Of youth and years afar, 
 
 Has passed me by though I might try 
 
 To keep it as my star. 
 
 O Children, though you've taught me 
 
 That other joys are sweet, 
 
 For in your love that's from above 
 
 My Christmas is replete. 
 
 IN LOWLY STABLE BORN. 
 
 Holy of night, Christ to us was given, 
 Saviour of man in lowly stable born, 
 
 With tender love our sins are now all shriven, 
 To gain us this Christ suffered cross and thorn.
 
 215 
 
 CHRISTMAS MORN 
 
 Up in the sky moon's babies all are blinking, 
 Wee, tiny stars so sleepy in gray dawn, 
 Through silent hours by might of steady winking, 
 They've kept the watch, but now they nod and yawn. 
 
 Two merry men through Northland madly racing, 
 Ere coming morn shall catch them unaware, 
 On window-pane Jack Frost has left strange tracing, 
 And Santa Glaus leaves presents everywhere. 
 
 Adown the East a red-face sun comes peeping, 
 Moon's candles now snuffed out in great af right, 
 The baby stars tucked up in bed are sleeping, 
 And elfin sunbeams flood the world in light. 
 
 Through wintry air is borne the joyous pealing 
 Of village bells, ring they in wildest way, 
 Across my room come little children stealing 
 To claim first kiss on Merry Christmas day. 
 
 A DAY IN LATE AUTUMN 
 
 Sweet day of sunshine throngh a drowsy haze 
 
 That floods the vales in misty, golden light ; 
 
 Yon mountains scarlet clad to very height, 
 
 Now tender in soft tones af smoky blaze. 
 
 Upon the uplands herds of cattle graze, 
 
 While flocks of cawing crows on fields alight, 
 
 As ploughman and his team pass out of sight, 
 
 And joy-drunk jay from wood laughs his amaze 
 
 No ripple stirs the placid, sluggish stream 
 
 Bosom adorned with richest fallen leaves. 
 
 The murmur of the pines is stilled to-day, 
 
 For Autumn, making effort all supreme 
 
 In her decline, a fate for which she grieves, 
 
 Rules Queen once more then goes her saddened way
 
 216 
 DUFFERIN TERRACE AT MIDNIGHT 
 
 Above me looms the fortress, scarp and walls, 
 Dim, undefined in gloom of murky light. 
 No blare of gun or trumpet wakes the night, 
 In vain I hark to catch the sentry calls. 
 No camp fires glow at Montmorenci Falls, 
 No foe lurks now on yonder Levis Height. 
 The city sleeps at peace, no war's affright 
 Shadows its dreams or timid heart appals. 
 Yet here in monuments of bronze and stone, 
 The sieges fierce, the many battles fought, 
 Heroic deeds, and hero's names, record. 
 The victor and the vanquished we enthrone. 
 Time's cycle has its subtle changes wrought ! 
 Two races dwell together in accord. 
 
 FAIRVIEWS AISLES 
 
 In Fairviews aisles at close of summer day 
 
 A wanton breeze from the blushing rose stole kiss, 
 
 And sinking with a whispered only this 
 
 For nothing sweeter hangs on trembling spray. 
 
 I saw and heard and plucked the blushing rose 
 And to dear Fairviews mistress quickly went 
 " Ah me 1 " she said, " how dear its touch, and scent. 
 Love makes it still the sweetest thing that grows."
 
 Holt, Renfrew & Co. 
 
 LIMITED 
 
 FURRIERS 
 
 Furriers to Her Maje&y Queen Alexandra 
 and to H. R. H. the Prince of Wales 
 
 Quebec and Toronto 
 
 JTT VISITORS should not leave Quebec without 
 J\ seeing Holt, Renfrew & Go's Magnificent Dis- 
 play of Furs and Fur Garments, which will be shown 
 with pleasure and without solicitation to purchase. 
 
 Quebec Central R'y- 
 
 THE 
 
 FAVORITE ROUTE 
 
 BETWEKN 
 
 QUEBEC 
 
 AND 
 
 Portland, Boston and New York 
 
 For Time-Tables, Tourist Books, Folders and 
 any other information apply to Agents. 
 
 J. H. WALSH, Gen. Man. E. O. GRUNDY, 
 
 Sherbrooke, Que. Gen. Pass. Agt.
 
 FOREIGN AND fcARLY SOUTHERN 
 
 DOMESTIC FRUIT VEGETABLES 
 
 M.HOGAN 
 
 Montcalm Market, Qyebec 
 TELEPHONE - - 191 
 
 TOUR PATRONAGE SOLICITED 
 
 ALL KINDS OF FRESH MALPECQUE OYSTERS 
 
 FISH IN SEASON LOBSTERS. ETC. 
 
 CLEANING LADIES! 
 
 Walking or Outing Suits Evening or Ball Dresses 
 Jwckets, Cloaks or Coats Blouses or Shawls 
 
 Can be done perfectly by our French Cleaning Process. For this work we 
 
 have special machinery and appliances. White Furs. Boas, Baby 
 
 Coats, Fur Lined Garments, Opera Coats, etc. beautifully 
 
 cleaned. All moths removed by our process. 
 
 A. S. PFEIFFER & COMPANY 
 
 DYERS AND CLEANERS 
 Phones 523 and 524 2J-4-6 McMahon Street 
 
 JOHN MARTIN 
 
 Butcher 
 
 Corned Beef, Corned Tongues, Sugar Cured Hams 
 
 and Bacon, and all kinds of best 
 
 quality Fresh Meats 
 
 MONTCALM MARKET HALL, STALL No. 31 
 
 TELEPHONE 21 QUEBEC 
 
 G. &, C. HOSSACK 
 
 GROCERS & WINE MERCHANTS 
 Fishing Orders Attended to 
 
 Corner Ann and Garden Sts. 
 Opposite English Cathedral 
 
 TELEPHONE 7? UPPER TOWN, QUEBEC
 
 Glover, Fry & Co. 
 
 Eitablahed 
 1842 
 
 IMPORTERS OF 
 
 High Class Dry Goods, Millinery, Mantles. 
 Laces, and Gents' Furnishing a Specialty 
 
 Carpets :: Oil Clothes :: Linoleums 
 
 Curtains in Great Variety and Lowest Prices 
 
 QLOVKR, FRY & CO. 
 
 WHEN IN QUEBEC Visit the Beautiful Montmorency Falls, 
 Zoological Garden and the Park, Theatre on the Park. Perform- 
 ances afternoon and evening from June to September. Admission 
 Free to Passengers. Electric trains run every 30 minutes be- 
 tween Quebec and Montmorency Falls. Fare 30 cts Return. 
 
 Q Make a Pilgrimage to Ste-Ann de Beaupre, a trip that no tourist visiting 
 Quebec should miss. Electric trains every hour between Quebec and St-Anne. 
 
 Fare 60 cts Return J. A. EVERELL. Superintendent. 
 
 Ask This Hotel for Illustrated Pamphlets and Time Tables 
 
 Clarendon Hotel 
 
 Elevator and Electric Light Throughout 
 
 Corner Garden and Ann Streets 
 Quebec 
 
 Rates: $2.50 to $4.50 Per Day 
 
 Burlington Rooms 
 
 Miss Lenehan, Proprietor European Plan 
 
 Bright, airy, cool and most modern furnished rooms for 
 tourists. Baths, electric cars pass. Convenient to restaurants, 
 hotels. Auditorium and Terrace. Automobile accomodation. A 
 favorite resort for ladies travelling alone* Tourists can leave 
 baggage free while making Saguenay trip. Special invitation 
 is given to tourists to call and examine these beautiful rooms. 
 
 Phone 135 12 St. Stanislas St., Quebec
 
 PHONE 2334 
 
 COPTO6HTH) 806 Of rn MORTON *& CO 
 
 J, P. Berlrand 
 
 269 ST. JOSEPH 
 STREET, Quebec. 
 
 Sportsmens' Den. 
 
 Fishing Tackle 
 Guns, Rifles 
 Revolvers and 
 Camping Out- 
 fits :-: :-: :-: 
 
 ALL OF THE BEST and 
 LATEST STYLES 
 
 QKNKRAL HARI3 WARK 
 
 HENRY WILLIS 
 
 CHEMIST and DRUGGIST 
 
 4 St. John Street 
 
 Quebec 
 
 DISPENSING A SPECIALTY
 
 BEST GRADE OF = "gf 
 
 Ladies and Gent's Furs 
 
 Indian Curiosities :: Mats and Rugs :: 3 Cub Tigers 
 PUMA, SHOT BY PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT 
 
 AT 
 
 Domestic Fur Emporium 
 
 FRED H. BENDER, Prop. 
 
 Opposite Chateau Frontenac - ( Morgan's Block ) 
 
 WE make a specialty of supplying everything that 
 a sportsman requires. An up-to-date stock of: 
 
 Fishing Tackle, Gun*, Rifles and Ammunition 
 Blankets, Moccasins, and Camp Utvnsils 
 
 Forrest & Sons Salmon Flies 
 English and American Leaders and Trout Flies, Etc. 
 
 S. J. SHAW & CO. 
 
 13 John Street and Cor. Mountain Hill & Notre Dame Street 
 QUEBEC 
 
 The United Photographic Stores 
 
 Limited 
 
 31 Buade Street, and 23 St. Louis Street 
 PHONE 109 - - PHONE 1848 
 
 Kodaks, Views, Souvenirs, Developing 
 and Printing, Etc. 
 
 QUEBEC, Opposite Basilica AUo MONTREAL and OTTAWA