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Satbact CoIItjt liiinai;
MRS. ANNE E. P. SEVER,
OF BOSTON.
1- 1 c^M. -Xf JtjU. I it^f.
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CANADIAN MAGAZINE
politics, Science, ^rt anb Jiteraturt
VOL. XIII.
MAY, 1899, TO OCTOBER. 1899, INCLUSIVE
THE ONTARIO PUBLISHING CO., LIMITED
Digitized byGoOglC
CONTENTS OF VOLUME XHI.
MAY. 1899— OCTOBEB, 1899.
FRONnSPIECES.
FiiLD-HiRBHAL H.R.H. Thi Phhci at Walk From t, Phntograph 2
Post OooEBCKH, Mdbeoea Likes Distuiv From % FhotoRraph 100
Fbom Hauil's FoiiTT. Like Joskph, Mubkoka Laeib Dibteici From x Photograph 198
Feahoib Pabehak From % Photograph 296
The Cohuq Storm From a Pointing 394
TANTALiziira. From aPuuUng 492
ABTICLES.
A New Natiomil Pouot SnuKor AHiUiin. 107
A Bill of Gosre .,
Adventdbes op a PsiBOirEK OF Was
Birds vr tbr Gabden lUiutnted C. W. Jfaih.
[127, 2M, 355
Books, SraEsaTfi ard Weaknim of CDRHtirT John A Cooper. 10
BAH1H4S, A ^KROH OF lUiutrated E. B. ii ortMntrlon. S07
Bebhdda, The Chabms OF niiutntted Byrva NichoUon 543
British Imperial Cdbbenct W. Mytrt Oreg. 570
Oomhisbion's Wobk— Codmtir Imfldenqeh John Ckarltm, SI. P. 13
CaMADUM OlI.BBBtTIEB— Dr. W. H. Druhuohd ..Illuib»(ad E.Q.V. 62
" Btbon E. Walker.. IlluMnted TAobmu R Champion. 168
William MoLiHMAH..Illuitr«tod S. Q. V. 251
" Sir William DAWHON„IUii«trAted Frank Yeigh. 343
Hos. JoREFU MARTIH.,Illu«lr»tBd John R. Jtobimoa. 434
Cahadiah Piofle: A Critioibm Worman FatUrton. 13S
Dante's DitiheComedt Proftt»or WiUiam Clark
[111, 204, 337
Daibt Ihddhtbt OF Caxada Illustrated.. Q. W. Whaatim. 51
DOBOHBBTEB, Baboht OF OoiTge Johtuort. 476
Dawson, Sib William ; SuroH With Portrait Frank Yeigk. 343
Bmpibe Day W. Simford Evani 275
Erolamd, Work ahdWobkebbIh IlltutrMtad Cliflon Joktuon. 216
Eablt Datb at Yobk Factory BecUa WiUtn. 3
Fort Nei«Oi< ; How the Fhench Caftdbrd Btckit* WiilKm 210
Francis Farkhah amd His Woues Qtorgt Stewart, D.C.L. 363
" M. J. Oormon. 477
FotiHDEBOF Halifax Btnry J. Morgan 96
DRnMNOHD, Dr. W. H.j Sketoh With FartrBlC B. Q. V . 62
Oalician Weddiro Batil C. ITEatma 83
Gbodse, Shootiho the Rdfced Rtsinaid GoKrlay. B39
Halifax, the Focndbb of Btnni J. Morgan 96
Halifax, the Attbaotiiihs of Itlnitrated E. Shtrbamt Tapper. 347
Hospital Life in a Great City Illustrated bjGoode. John MeCrae, M.D. 320
How TUB Frincb Gaptured Port Nblsoh Beckla WilUon. 210
, Google
iMPniAL CUBKINOT W. UytTt Ottv. 670
Im DtnacBOr Miluohuub Proftnor Shortt. 493
J&MAicu AMD JuiAiiuxa, PBiBtin COHDiTioM OF T. fl. ifa<:£>ermot. 502
LlTlUTDU W. A. Fraitr, 34
Mabtih, Hoh. JoBiFHi Ssnoa With Portnit Jolm R. AoMtuoo. 424
Mi-Cahihb ni FABia Jant Marlin 60
HiuiOHAiBn, » Dsnaai of Frafato' ShotU. 493
Moou Laxds OP NoBTBBUr Ortauo lUattratcd W. Ridout VadnxrtK..
[119, 254.
HoLstnfAK, Wiluam; Skbtob With Furfawt E. fl. Y. 251
PKIHOC OF Waus ninttiat^ Tlumuu S. CAampion. 16
PacifioOablb 181
PaopLS or Pabmamkht Hill Ckartt* Ltici* Shaw.
[304, 438, 557
....lUiutnted BiOtU* WWkm. 117
..,.IUiartr«t«i B.C.SMUif. 418
Rtru An> Rod ur tbi Uoosb Lakim or Nobthbut Omtaiio, lUortnted, W. BidaiU Wadtvorlh.
[149, 2M
BAniuoH, PiEBB% BoaHBAKOKB lUnitTatcd BteUu WilUon. 117
BorrBD GanuaB, SaoomarHi ApinaU Oawrloy. 539
Sabba'Kihbwaii Cocstrt, a Tbip Into martntad by Qoode Samuitl Bmy, C.E. 26
Sblubk; Placb Kahbb or Cahada Oeaiyt J/Antan. 395
PaBUIaH AilD HIB WoBKB Otorfft SleuaH D.C.L. 363
" " '■ ■' If, J, Oomum. 477
Walkbb, Btbon K; Sbikh With Portrdt T.E.C. 158
West Ihsibb— sbb Babamab, Bbbmvdab, Jahaioa.
Whbbi Wm. Fbhn u Bdriid nimtnit^ H. O. SMUg. 418
Walbb, Hu Rotal HiaHXBsa thb Fbikob or..IUiutnt«l Thomat E. Champion. 18
WoBK AHD WoBKBBa IN Rdbal Eholand. . IU(utrat«d Clifion Johnmm. ZIB
Wout or Joura Hioh CownSMOH John CAorfton. It.F. 13
ToBK Pactobt, Eablt Datb at Bedda WUIton. 3
DBPARTUENTS AND SFEOCALTIES.
BooKB ATO AuTHOBa 91, 190,288, 389, 484, 679
OomBBiTT EvBHta Abboad John A. Eman.
[85, 383, 476
■■ ■' " A. B. U.CBfquhimn.
[182, 279
'* " " W. Sanfoni Emtu.
672
Bditobul ComOHT John A. Cooper.
[88, 186, ^S^ 386, 481, 576
Idu HOHBHTS 97, 196, 293, 391, 489, 583
LEADING CANADIAN BOOKS REVIBWED.
BfABOnBitrrB db Bobbbval. Bg T. 8. Marqait. •■■ ■ 91
Thb 8pah o'Lirt By Wm. SfcLenaan 92
Thb Hokhoii Psopbkt. By LUh Dougall ^
Thb Etb or A God. Bv W. a. Frater 93
Oavada: As ENOicLt^PADiA. EdUtd bf J. Ciutdl BojAinM. 190
Casadiak Citizbhbhif. By John Miller 288
NoTHiHO Bdt Namcb. BrH. r.OarOmtr
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iv CONTENTS
Th» Btbono Abm. Bv Sobert Ban- \ 487
Thi GeiAT UoHFAHT. Bv BtttUt waUon. 679
BtMiHUOBKOH Ahobg the Roou. BtThomaMC. WaHm. 6S0
BlBUOOBAFHT OF ClHADUM POBtBT. Bg C. O. Jomxt 662
FICTION.
A Ttfioal Tehdmioot XUiutnitod byGoode BaM C. DSauanx 413
A PKOPiaBIOHAL'DmT CAoriei JFt/ion J'oAnJOn, 449
Ohkkko asd TTirobi Bn. Illivtrkted bjr Ajpell Oy. Warvian. 549
DAnaam of WiroHn JoannaS. Wood,
[38, 139, 232, 369, 429, 627
Fbahoois Libhuf, Tbi Old Yotaobob J)r. Oeergt Fitk. 160
KuMET lUiutnted L. M. Montgonerg. 228
The Zjltof Lmdom Bbidok UlmtoUad by Biigdoi Vima Shaani.
[310,467
Padl Foikibb's Bub-Tuf Fnat Baird 165
Tai f APTDBB or Shmtah IT.J.JVnMr. 297
Thi Spibb ur St. lomtitia ^orence Hamilton Sandal 183
ThbMab ATTHB WmttL Qiibert Barter. 101
Thbbb BxFBsr CTCLisn Babtrt Barr. S4
Two Sidbb k> a Stobt PtrtU W. Bart. 270
Widow of Mum A. Bridle.
174, 172, 981. 829, 467, 662
POBTRY.
A Tbaobdt nr Futhibs Btnry XtUlotk Bmat. Mi
Oasadum Hnoi Ckai. Campbdl. 134
Chabaittrb Otorp Edgar R^. 480
Death of thbMoobb Rtaindtd Oourfag. 2S0
Flowbb of thb Pbaibib Lahd John Ditff. 437
Bu SoBO Jvm BlewttL 339
MuBlo Jokx Stuart Thornton, 137
Oh SHOTOTIBHttt Arthur J. Stritvir. 180
Thb BoBHiir of Timb Frtdtrick Oeorgi Scott. 327
Thi Cb» op thb Outlakdbb W. A. Fritter. 214
Thb Kwq'b Fla«>x llliutnt«4 f^ntlin Gadtby. 70
Thb Nbw Invasion B. B. Oodfrtt/. 147
Thb Bo«b JohnBtuart Tkomton, M2
Two Bobvetb Bvdyn aitd Laura B. Durattd. 488
Thb Tabbb asp thb Qbaih Jot. A. Tneker. 471
VASomn'U Klwsn Irving Hoffman. 17
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Contributions by W. A. Frascr and Robert B.
E
MAY, 1599.
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EPPS'S
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Distinguished everywiiera for
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Make sure, however, that
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FIELD-MARSHAL H.RJt THE PRINCE OF TALES.
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Canadian >fe^:^zLNE
mLAEc
29 189
EARLY DAYS AT YdftrTfefORY.
BY BECKLES WILLSON.
NoTB. — In Ihe year i68i the Honourable Company of Merc hanls-Ad venturers trading: into
Hudson's Bay decided to establisli a second factory, to be situated on Ihe weslem hide of the
Bay, in the vicinity of Fort Nelson. For this purpose John Bridicar was appointed reKident
Governor and despatched in the Princt f^urert, hiu arrival in those re^ons (akinif place some
days subsequent to that ol two French -Canadian fur-traders, lormerly in the service of the
Company, named Radisson and Groseilliers. This pair had set their hcarlH on delealing: the
purpose of the Enfflish in effecMiig- a setileinent in the localily ; and probably, if Ihiry had had to
deal with the Company's forces alone, might not have been compelled to resoit to quite so
much labour and strategy as is related in the narrative. Bui, in addition (o the Company's
ship and crew, there arriveil on the scene an unauthorized interloper named tlie Susan, hailing-
from Boston, in New England. To complicate matters, the Siaan was commanded by Benja-
min Ciliam, the son of the captain of the Company's ship, Kha Prince Rupert. Neither Bridg;ar,
the Governor, nor Captain Gillam knew of the presence of Ihe interloper, who, by ihe laws of
the period and the charter of Ihe Company, could be treated as a pirate, and her commander
and crew either shot or carried in chains to England. Radisson does not recognize Ihe mon-
opoly of the English Company, which i" tens suiprising when one considers that it was he and
his brother-in-law who [noneered all th«ir early undertaking's. He lays claim to all the i-ounlry
and trade for his master. King: Louis XIV. Not beinji;' a match for the iwo partieH of English
tt^ether he resolven to capture and disarm Ihem separately. One inlerestini;: point deserves
to be noted : the energy and intrepidity displayed by Ihe Frenchmen, who seem thoroug-hly at
home in the wilderness, and the timidity and helplessness of th>? English servants. Indeed,
had it not been for the subsequent treachery of the two brothers-in-law, in returintr to the
Company's service and yielding' up their establishment to the English, the Company would
probably have found it impossible to maintain themselves in this quarter of the Bay. Fort
Bourbon, which was the hi );h -sounding' title Groieilliers and Radisson gave to their structure
of logs, became, later, York Factory, The following narrative forms a chapter in the History
of the Hudson's Bay Company which will shortly be published in two volumes.
MORE than fifteen years had elapsed more energetic policy been adopted may
since Medard Chouart des Gro- be deduced from the circumstance that
seilliers had first fired Prince Rupert at the time of Rupert's death the Com-
with his project of founding* a great fur- pany did not possess more than a singla
traffic in the unknown and unexplored fort or trading- post. It was well known
regions ofthe New World. The prince that his Highness favoured greater
had lived to see that project succL>ed activity, and one of his la-t acts had
even beyond his most sanguine expecta- been to sign the commission of John
tions. Now, at his death, the Company Bridgar as Governor of the new sei tie-
owned four ships; and after all the ment at Fort Nelson. It appeared as if
cost of its plant, its ships and its ex- the Adventurers had only wailed for
penses had been paid, it was returning the advent of the new retfime to pursue
a profit of three hundred per cent, on a more vigorous and enterprising plan
its capital. The extent to which this of commerce,
profit might have been increased had a Under date of April 37th,
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
find the following instructions addres-
sed to Henry Sargent, regarding trade
with the interior: " You are to choose
out from amongst our servants such as
are best qualified with strength of body
and the country laaguage to travel and
to penetrate into the country, and to
draw down the Indians by fair and
gentle means to trade with us."
But the Compaay was to learn that
the parsimony which then characterized
its policy was not calculated to foster
the success of its aims. - The majority
of the men it sent out from England
could not be classiiied under the head of
adventurous spirits, ready to dare all
for mere excitement and the prospect
of gain. They were for the most part
young men gifted with no more apti-
tude for the work in the wilderness
than a disinclination to pursue their
callings at home. No small number
were dissatisfied apprentices ; one
William Evans had been a drawer at
the Rainbow Inn ; Hr. Portman him-
self had sent his scullion.
Even at that early day the staffs
employed on the plantations were re-
cruited from amongst the very class
least competent to exploit those regi-
ons. The majority of the applicants
for employment in the Company's ser-
vice in the seventeenth century were
not men of character and vigour, or
even of robust physique, but rather
hare-brained artisans of the mild, dare<
devil type, whose parents and friends
foresaw, if London or Bristol formed
the sphere of their talents, a legal and
violent rather than a natural termina-
tion of their respective careers.
Sargeant's response to the foregoing
injunction certainly served to enlighten
his superiors. " I shall not be neg-
lectful," he wrote, " as soon as 1 can
find any man capable and willing to
send up into the country with the In-
dians, to endeavour to penetrate into
what the country will and may produce,
and to effect their utmost in bring-
ing down the Indians to our factory ;
but your Honours should give good
encourag'ement to those who un-
dertake such extraordinary service ; or
else I fear that there will be but few
that will embrace such employment."
The rebuke was just ; but it seems
to have given offence to some of the
more pompous members of the Com-
pany ; and Sargeant was desired
not to cast any further reflection on
his employers in his communications
to them. Nevertheless, the Company
was soon to learn the value of a less
nig^gBi'dly policy.
Ait the new settlement on Nelson
River events were happening, which
were to decide, temporarily at least,
the sovereignty of that part of the
Bay.
For ten days the two ex-employees,
Radisson and Groseilliers gave no
further evidence to the English of their
presence. But on the tenth day their
curiosity and uneasiness regarding the
conduct of the English Governor,
Bridgar, and the other servants of the
Company, had reached such a pitch
that it was decided without further
consideration that Radisson should
start off at once to reconnoitre their
behaviour. The actual distance be-
tween Port Bourbon, on the Hays
River, and the Company's factory on
Nelson River was not above fifty miles;
but owing to the dangerous character
of the river, and the necessity for delay
before an attempt could be made to
cross it, Radisson and his parly con-
sumed fourteen days on the journey.
On their arrival on the 3rd of Feb-
ruary one of the first objects to attract
their attention was Xhx Prince Rupert,
stuck fast in the ice and mud
about a mile from where the factory
was being erected. At the same time
they met the Governor, who was out
on a hunting expedition with the chief
mate of the vessel. Satisfying himself
that no treachery was intended Radis-
son accepted Bridgar's invitation to
enter the log-house which he had
caused to be built for his own occu-
pancy. Radisson introduced one of the
Frenchmen who accompanied him as the
captain of an imaginary ship, which
he averred had arrived from France in
his behalf. "Mr. B. believed it and
anything else 1 chose to tell him," re-
marks Radisson naively, " I aiming al-
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£AJiL Y DAYS AT YORK FACTOR Y
ways to prevent bim from having aoy
knowledge of the English interloper."
White engaged in the pleasing diver-
sion of drinking each other's healths, a
number of musket shots were fired.
The crew of the vessel not taking any
notice of this, the bushranger con*
eluded that those on board were not
on their guard and might readily be
surprised.
With this condition uppermost in
his mind, the Frenchman quitted
Bridgar, having fint allayed any sus-
picion which might have naturally
arisen as to the intention of the party.
The latter went boldly on board the
ship, and no hindrance being offered
their leader had a colloquy with Cap-
t^n Gillam. This worthy, who while he
received the visit civilly enough, yet
found occasion to let Radisson know
that he was far from entirely trusting
him. When his visitor suggested that
he was running a great risk in allowing
the Prince Rupert to remain grounded,
Gil lam bluntly requested Radisson to
mind his own business, adding that he
knew perfectly well what he was doing
— a boast which, as the sequel showed,
was certainly not well founded. Ra-
disson was determined not to be put
out of temper, and so, run risk of spoil-
ing his plans.
Winter, even in all its rigour, seems
to have had no terrors for our indomi-
table bushranger. For the next two
months, as we shall relate, he continued
to scour backwards and forwards
through this country, inspiring his fol-
lowers and urging them onward to the
prosecution of a plan which was obvious
to them all. Parting from Gillam the
elderj who had not the faintest suspi-
cion that his son was in the locality,
Radisson at once started to parley with
Gillam, the younger.
When he had gained the island
where he had left he was instantly
made aware that the New Englanders
had been considerably les.s idle than
the Company's servants ; having
completed a very creditable fort and
mounted it with six pieces of cannon.
With Benjamin Gillam, our bushranger
passed off the same subterfuge with
which he had hoodwinked Zachary.
He spoke fluently of his newly arrived
ship and her cargo and crew, and to
cap his narrative proceeded to intro-
duce her captain, who was none other
than the old pilot, Pierre Allemand,
who, from the description I have of ■
his appearance, looked every inch the
bold, fierce and uncompromising
mariner. He had a great deal to tell
Benjamin likewise of the Company's
post near by, which he sai4 contained
forty soldiers.
" Let them be forty devils," ex-
claimed Gillam, junior, ** we have built
a good fort and are afraid of noth-
ing."
Whereupon Radisson gently remind-
ed him that according to his agreement
he was to have built no fort whatever.
In reply to this Benjamin begged his
visitor not to take umbrage at such a
matter, as he never intended to dispute
the rights of the French in the region,
and that the fort was merely intended
as a defence against the Indians.
As the evening wore on, a manoeuvre
suggested itself to Radisson, He re-
solved to bring father and son together.
No sooner had he formed this amiable
resolve than he revealed to Benjamin
Gillam the proximity of the Prince Ru-
pert and her commander, and described
the means by which an encounter
might be effected without eliciting the
suspicions of Governor Bridgar or any
of the Company's servants. It con-
sisted briefly in young Benjamin's dis-
guising himself as a Frenchman and a
bushranger. The scheme met with the
young man's hearty approbation and
the details were settled as Radisson
had designed.
On the following day the party set
out through the snow. Arriving at
the point on land opposite to which the
Company's ship lay, Radisson posted
two of his best men in the woods on
the path which led to the factory. He
instructed them to allow the Governor to
pass should he come that way, but that
if he returned from the ship unaccom-
panied or prior to their own departure
they were to seize and overpower him
on the spot. With such precautions
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
as these Radisson felt himself safe and
went on board the Prince Rupert
accompanied by Gillam. He introduced
his two companions into the captain's
Foom without any notice on the part
of Gillam the elder, and the mate
'and another man he had with him.
Leaning across the table, upon which
was deposited a bulky bottle of rum,
Radisson whispered to the honest cap-
tain that he had a secret ot the highest
importance to communicate if he would
but dismiss the others. Gillam readily
sent away the mate, but would not dis-
miss his second attendant until Radis-
son, again in a whisper, informed him
that the black- bearded man in the
strange head-gear was his son.
After communicating this intelligence
the pair had their own way. The next
few moments were devoted to embraces
and to an interchange of news, for
Captain Gillam and Benjamin had not
met for two years. The sire could not
refrain from imparting to his son that
he was running a great risk ; he de-
clared it would be ruinous to him if it
got to the Governor's ears that there
was any collusion between them.
RacUsson again professed his friend-
ship, but added that in his opinion
neither of the parties had any right to
be where they were, he having taken
possession for the King of France.
" This territory is all His Most
Christian Majesty's," he said. "The
fort we have built yonder we call Fort
Bourbon, and none have any right
here but such as own allegiance to
Louis XIV." He observed that nothing
would cause a rupture of the friendly
relations now subsisting between
French and English but that trade in
peltries, trade which he had too great
reason to fear they hoped to initiate
with the Indians in the spring.
Thereupon the elder Gillam coolly re-
sponded that the ship he commanded,
and the spot on which they were then
assembled, belonged not to himself,
but to the Hudson's Bay Company.
" With regard to the trade, gentle-
men," said he, "you have nothing to
fear from me. Even though I don't
carry a solitary beaver back to the
Thames, 1 shall not trouble myself,
being sure of my wages."
This interview was prolonged. The
healths of the Kings of France and
England, Prince Rupert and M. Colbert
(quite in ignorance of the deaths of the
two last named) were drunk with zeal
and enthusiasm. In the midst of all
this, that which Radisson had antici-
pated, occurred. Governor Bridgar,
notified of Radisson's return, came to
the ship in hot haste. On his joining
the group he remarked meaningly that
the I'ort the French had constructed
must be nearer than he had been given
to think, since its commandant could
effect so speedy a return. He evinced
himself very uneasy in mind concerning
the Frenchman's intentions. Before
their departure, young Gillam came
very near being betrayed. He was
partially recognized by one of the
traders who accompanied the Governor.
But the matter passed off withoutserious
consequences.
None too soon did the party return
to young Gillam's fort on the island,
for a tremendous blizzard ensued,
sweepingthe who[ecountry,and forcing
Radisson to remain for some days with-
in doors. As soon as the storm had
subsided, however, Radisson started
off.declining Gillam's offer of his second
mate to accompany him back to the
French settlement.
" I managed to dissuade him," he
writes, " having my reasons for wish-
ing to conceal the road we should take.
On leaving we went up from the fort to
the upper part of the river, but in the
evening we retraced our steps and next
morning found ourselves in sight of the
sea into which it was necessary toenter
in order to pass the point and reach
the river in which was our habitation.
But everything was so covered with ice
that there was no apparent way of pass-
ing further. We found ourselves, in-
deed, so entangled in the ice that we
could neither retreat nor advance to-
wards the shore to make a landing.
It was necessary, however, that we
should pass through the ice or perish.
We remained in this condition for four
hours without being able to advance or
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EARLY DAYS AT YORK FACTORY
retire and in great danger of our lives.
Our cli>thes were frozen on us and we
conld only move with difficulty, but at
last we made so strong an attempt that
we arrived at the shore, our canoe
being all broken up. Each of us took
our baggage and arms and marched in
the direction of our habitation, without
finding anything to eat for three days
except crows and birds of prey, which
are the last to leave these countries."
Fort Bourbon was reached at length.
After reporting to his brother-in-law all
that had passed, Groseitliers was not
long in counselling what was best lobe
done. In his opinion the first thing
necessary was to secure possession of
young Giilam's ship. Time pressed
and the spring would soon be upon them
bringing with it the Indians. He argued
that delay might prove fatal, inasmuch
as Bridgar might at any moment learn
of the presence of the New England in-
terlopers ; and in that event he would
probably make an effort to capture
their fort and add their forces to his
own. If this were done, the success of
the French in overpowering the English
traders would be slight and their voy-
age would have been undertaken for
It was therL-fore agreed that Groseil-
tiers should remain in charge of the
fort, while his kinsman should im-
mediately return to Nelson River. In
a few days they parted once more,
Radisson setting out with a fresh party
and thoroughly resolved upon action.
The first discovery he made, on arriving
at the scene of his proposed operations,
was that the Company's ship, the
Prince Rupert, was frozen fast in the
ice, and must inevitably perish when
the spring floods came. He also speed-
ily ascertained that (he Governor, by
no means relishing his presence in the
vicinity, was already planning measures
to thwart, if not to capture, his rivals,
for he had sent out two sailors charged
with the task of discovering the exact
whereabouts of the French and the ex-
tent of their strength and equipment.
These two spies Radisson promptly
captured— no difficult task indeed, for
they had lost their way and were half-
frozen and almost famished. The an-
ticipated fate of the Prince Rupert was
not long delayed. The tidings shortly
reached Radisson that she was a total
wreck, and with it came also the news
of the loss of her captain, the mate and
four sailors. A subsequent report, how-
ever, declared that Gillman had. escaped
with his life.
Receiving this intelligence, Radisson
presented himself before the Governor
to see how he was affected by such a
calai
ity.
He found Bridgar drinking heavily,
but resolved to keep up appearances and
to withhold from theFrenchany knowl-
edge of what had happened. He
affected to believe the ship safe, mere-
ly observing that she had shifted her
position a few leagues down the river.
Radisson asserts that at this time the
Company's factory was short of pro-
visions. It is impossible (hat this
could have been the case. The assertion
was probably made to cover his own
depredations on the stores of the Com-
pany.
Parting from the Governor, Radis-
son presented himself before Gillam the
younger, to whom he did not as yet
choose tt) say anything concerning his
father and the loss of his ship. Under
various pretences he induced Gillam to
pay him a visit at Fort Bourbon.
The latter does not seem at this time
to have been aware of the intention of
the French towards him. But he was
soon to be undeceived.
"I remained quiet for a month," says
Radisson, in the course of his extra-
ordinary narrative, " treating young
Gillam, my new guest, well anri with all
sorts of civilities, which he abused on
several occasions. For having appar-
ently perceived that »e had not the
strength 1 told him, he took the liberty
of speaking of me in threatening terms
behind my back, treating me as a
pirate and saying that, in spite of me,
he would trade in spring with the
Indians. He had even the hardihood
to strike one of my men which I
pretended not to notice ; but, having
the insolence later when we were dis-
cussing the privileges of New England
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
to speak against the respect due the
best of kings, 1 treated him as a
worthless dog for speaking in that
way and totd him that, having had
the honour to eat bread in his service,
I would pray to God ail my life for
His Majesty. He left me, threatening
that he would return to his fort and
that when he was there I would not
dare to speak to him as I had done.
I could not expect to have a better
opportunity to begin what 1 had re-
solved to do. 1 lold this young brute
then that I had brought him from his
fort, that I would take him back
myself when 1 pleased, not when he
wished. He answered impertinently
several times, which obliged me to
threaten that I would put him in
a place of safety if he was not wiser.
He asked me then if he was a prisoner.
I said 1 would consider it and that 1 '
would secure my trade since he had
threatened to interrupt it. I then
withdrew to give him time to be in-
formed by the Englishmen how his
father's loss was lost with the Com-
pany's ship and the bad situation of
Mr. Bridgar. 1 left in their company a
Frenchman who understood English
unknown to them. When 1 had left
young Gillam urged the Englishman
to fly and to go to his master and
assure him that he would give him six
barrels of powder and other supplies if
he would undertake to deliver him out
of my hands. The Englishman made
no answer, but he did not inform me
of the proposition that had been made
him (I had learned that from the
Frenchman who had learned every,
thing and thought it was time to act
for my security.) "
In the evening Radisson said nothing
of what he knew of the plot. He
asked those in his train if the muskets
were in their places which he had put
around to act as guarantee against
surprise. At the word tnusket young
Gillam, who did not know what was
meant, grew alarmed and, according
to Radisson, wished to fly, believing
that it was intended to kill him. But
his flight was arrested by his captor
who took occasion to free him from
his apprehension. The next momtDg,
however, the bushranger's plans were
openly divulged. He told Gillam that
he was about to take his fort and ship.
" He answered haughtily that even
if 1 had a hundred men I could not
succeed and that his people would have
killed more than forty before they
could reach the palisades. This bold-
ness did not astonish me, being very
sure that I would succeed in my de-
sign."
Having secured Gillam the younger,-
it was now necessary to secure the
fort of which he was master. The
intrepid Frenchman started for Hayes
Island with nine men, and, gaining an
entrance by strategy, he cast oflF the
mask of friendship and boldly demand-
ed the keys of the fort and the whole
stock of arms and powder. He added
that in the event of their refusal to yield
he would raze the fort to the ground.
No resistance seems to have been
attempted, and Radisson took formal
possession of the place in the name of
the King of France. This ceremony
being concluded, he ordered Jenkins,
the mate, to conduct him to the ship,
and here formal possession was taken
in the same fashion, without any
forcible objection on the part of the
crew. Some explanation of this ex-
traordinary complaisance, if Radisson's
story ,of the number of men lie took
with him be true, may be found in the
commander's unpopularity, he having
recently killed his supercargo in a
quarrel.
Nevertheless Benjamin Gillam was
not to be altogether without friends.
A certain Scotchman, perchance the
first of his race in those regions, which
were afterwards to be forever associ-
ated with Scottish zeal and labours,
wishing to show his fidelity to his
chief, escaped and eluding the efforts
of Radisson's fleetest bushrangers to
catch him, arrived at Fort Nelson and
told his tale. The Governor's astonish-
ment may be imagined. He had
hitherto no inkling of the presence of
the New England interlopers, and
although his captain and fellow-servant
was not equally ignorant Gillam had
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ALONG THE TRAIL
kept his counsel well. The Governor
decided at once to head a party of relief,
in which he was seconded t^ Gillam
p&re, who was at the moment only just
recovering from an illness caused by
exposure during the shipwreck. The
Susan was their first point of attack.
Under the cover of nig'ht they made a
determined effort to recapture her for
theCompany — an attempt which might
have succeeded bad not Radisson,
suspecting the move, despatched his
entire available lorce at the same time
and completely overpowered the Gov-
emor's men. He thought at first sight
that Bridgar himself was among his
prisoners, but the Governor was not
to be caught in that fashion ; he had
not himself boarded the ship. The
Scotchman who accompanied him,
however, was not so fortunate ; he fell
into Radisson's hands and suffered for
his zeal. He was tied to a post and
informed that his execution would take
placewithout ceremony on the morrow.
The sentence was never carried out.
Radisson, after exposing his prisoner
to the cold all night in an uncomfort-
able position, seems to have thought
better of his threat, and after numer-
ous vicissitudes the Scot at length re-
gained his liberty.
Reinforcements for the French now
arrived from Groseilliers. Believ-
ing himself now strong enough to
beard the lion in his lair, Radisson de-
cided to lose no more time in rounding
off his schemes. First, however, he
saw fit to address a letter to the Gov-
ernor asking him if he " approved the
action of the Company's people whom
he held prisoners, who had broken two
doors and the storeroom of his ship, io
order to carry off the powder."
Bridgar's reply was that he owed no
explanation to a renegade employ^ of
the Company. Radisson had not been
sincere in his professions, and he had
dealt basely and deceitfully with him
in preserving silence on the subject of
the interlopers. "As I had proper in-
structions," concluded Bridgar, in a
more conciliatory strain, "on setting
sail from London to seize all ships
coming to this quarter, I would willing-
ly have joined hands with you in cap-
turing this vessel. ' If you wish me to
regard you as sincere you will not keep
this prize for your own use."
The other's response was rapid and
masterly. He marched upon Fort
Nelson with twelve men, and by the
following nightfall was master of the
English establishment. This feat near-
ly drove the unhappy Governor to de-
spair, and he sought solace by apply-
ing himself to the rum cask with even
greater assiduity. In this frame of
mind John Brlgdar, the first Governor
of Port Nelson was carried off a prisoner
to Fort Bourbon.
To be Continued.
ALONG THE TRAIL.
pOREVER in the veiled t
The land of Hope, secure from mortal eyes ;
While in the new-made grave of yesterday
Some dear delusion reverently we lay.
Bradford K. Daniels.
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THE STRENGTH AND WEAKNESS OF CURRENT BOOKS.
TO a certain extent it is true that
the current novel findt< its .sup-
port chiefly among that class of (he
public which has received no training in
thi higher branches of literature.
Those who have, at one time or another
during a university course or a long
period of private but thorough study,
made an examination of the masters of
ancient and modern literature and come
to have some idea of the value of
thought and of style, And their greatest
pleasure in the older novelists or in the
great historians and essayists.
An illustration of this was provided
for me recently. Six men of education
and culture were taking dinner in a
private room in a city restaurant. The
conversation turned on to the current
novel and its value. Finally, some one
suggested that each person write the
□ames of his five favourite English
authors on a slip of paper and hand
It to one of the men for examina-
tion. The Bible and Shakespeare were
barred. When the result was summed
up the vote stood as follows : Scott, 4
votes; Carlyle, Dickens and Kipling, 3
each ; Macaulay, Parkman, Thackeray
and Ruskin, 2 each ; Eliot, Pope,
Leckie, Stevenson, Browning, Tenny-
son. Goldsmith and Arnold one each.
There were thirty votes cast, and six-
teen authors mentioned.
There are several thousand new
books printed each year in the L nglish
language which may be expected to be
of interest to the general reader. Here
was a body of six men with a full
knowledge of all the more important
of the books published during the
last five years, who calmly stated that
none of the current books except those
of Kipling and Stevenson have proved
themselves worthy of their admiration.
No mention was made of Anthony
(■
Hope, Marion Crawford, Gilbert Par-
ker, Robert Barr, Richard Harding
Davis, Frank R. Stockton, Justin
McCarthy, J. M. Barrie, Hall Caine,
William Black, Mrs. Humphrey Ward,
Francis Hodgson Burnett, James Lane
Allen, Harold Frederic, Conan Doyle,
Stanley J. Weyman, Thomas Hardy,
George Du Maurier, William Dean
Howells, or the score of other familiar
names of the last few years — only
Kipling and Stevenson. Yet of all
these persons who were ignored by
these six self- appointed critics, most
have at one time or another shown
signs of genius. Why should these cri-
tics treat them only as favourites for an
hour?
Perhaps an explanation may be found
in the character of the men themselves.
The educated Canadian is conservative.
Before acknowledging anything to be
pure gold, he must have seen it tried in
the Are. He prefers the book which has
weathered the criticisms of half a cen-
tury to that which is new and untested.
Yet this rule applied absolutely would
have barred Kipling and Stevenson, for
they are modern
Another explanation may be offered.
The modern publisher publishes a cer>
tain Dumber of books each year, the
number determined by his capital and
the means of sale at his disposal.
When a clever writer makes his mark,
the publisher rushes him for another
manuscript and another, and another.
The managers of magazines deluge him
with offers for articles and essays and
short stories. These men hang bags
of gold before the budding author's
eyes and cry: "Write; write; write."
Human nature is weak ; the man stops
thinking and devotes his whole energy
to writing. Verily, we throttle our
geniuses in their childhood.
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THE STRENGTH AND WEAKNESS OF CURRENT BOOKS 1 1
If this tatter explanation be the
true one, and it seems plausible,
wherein lies tiie value of current criti-
cism ? There is a g;reat deal of criti-
cism, and why does it allow the mod-
em novelist or g'eneral writer to foist
weak " stuff " upon the public P In the
first place, the critic cannot reach the
public. The publisher advertises to
the public and makes it listen ; the
publisher gives only the rosy side, and
is the only guide which the averag'c
reader has. The critic speaks in lit-
erary papers, and the higher-class peri-
odicals. The average reader never
sees these criticisms. Only those, of
whom these six men mentioned are
representatives, who thoroughly an-
alyze the books they read, consult
these criticisms. The critic has some
influence then, but it is limited to a
small part of the great body of book-
buyers.
But the critic is still further limited.
He writes for literary papers whose ex-
istence depends on the advertisements
of the publishers. He is " cabin'd
cribb'd, confin'd. " He cannot always
speak his mind. Were he to condemn
everything that a. publisher issues,
what would be the benefit to the pub-
lishers of an advertisement iu the jour-
nal in which the criticisms appear P
The critic may be capable and he may
be honest, but he must make a living.
Further, he must be a man of great
strength of mind and extraordinary
steadfastness of purpose, who will
stand up and say of ninety per cent,
of the modern pieces of general litera-
ture that they are crude, hasty and
amateurish. Even if he did nay
this, there would be many who would
doubt.
Further, the critics seem to have
formed cliques. In New York there
is a certain circle, to get into which
means success, ^o far as the critics can
assure it. The same is true of London,
if all the independent evidence offered
may be relied upon.
The conditions surrounding modern
criticism are, therefore, prejudicial to
the fullest and treest discussion for
three reasons (to sum up) : first, be-
cause the critic cannot reach but a
small part of the public ; secondly, be-
cause he is at the mercy of powerful
printing and publishing interests ; and
thirdly, because he himself is not al-
ways thoroughly reliable.
But to return to the main point un-
der consideration, it may safely be said
that in spite of the verdict of the six
aforesaid gentlemen, in spite of the
selfishness and cupidity of the publish-
er, and in spite of the human weak-
nesses of the author and the critic, the
average current book is of consider-
able value and the discriminating
reader is not wholly wasting his time.
The novels of Parker and Roberts
have stimulated many Canadians to
read Canadian history, and to observe
and study the curiosities of our civili-
zation. Barr's stories have amused and
pleased a great many persons, and that
is something in these worrying days.
So it may be said of the other modern
writers, that each has done some small
part in elevating the Anglo-Saxon race.
A person may read new books and be
benefited if, as has been intimated, he
selects his authors with some discrim-
ination.
If, as some authorities claim, all pure
literature is the revelation of a person-
ality, we must go on reading what mod-
ern litterateurs produce if we wish to ap-
preciate their respective personal qual-
ities. If we had read Archibald Lamp-
man'S poetry anonymously we should
have had much less pleasure than was
afforded us by reading it bit by bit over
his name. In the latter case, what
we had previously read, what we al-
ready knew of the man, his environ-
ment and his aims, helped us to under-
stand his work. A knowledge of his
personality added something to what
we saw on the printed page, gave more
strength to his imagery, and shed a
stronger light on the thoughts which
were so magnificently expressed. In
the introduction of his book on Shelley,
Professor Alexander points out that
"to an even greater degree than usual,
some knowledge of the man is neces-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZ/NE
sary for the UDderstaading of his writ-
ings."
But Matthew Arnold cuts deeper
than this in hiii analysis. He admits
that Shakespeare's greatness was due
to his personality. Then he goes far-
ther, and declares that Shakespeare
"lived in a current of ideas in the
highest degree animating and nourish-
ing to the creative power," and that
the society in which he moved was
"permeated by fresh thought, inielli-
fent and alive." Environment, in its
roadtst sense, must certainly have
much influence upon the men who
write, and by a study of the writings
of the moderns we learn something of
the age in which we live. Surely, here
is justification.
Current literature puts down in black
and white the manners and customs of
to-day, and holds up the mirror to
ourselves. Scott, Dickens and Thack-
eray studied the generations that have
just gone ; new writers have arisen to
perform a similar duty for the present
generations ; there will be other novel-
ists for future generations. If it be
admitted that Scott and Dickens and
Thackeray were right in describing the
life of their day, it must also be ad-
mitted that it is proper to have modern
authors describing the life of our day.
Gilbert Parker, William Kirby and
William McLennan have brought out
many of the striking qualities of the
romance which Parkman had previously
shown to be embodied in the early days
of French Canada. SimilarlyCharlesG.
D. Roberts followed Longfellow, and.
choosing prose as his medium, has
shown us the "glory and gleam"
of the romantic days of the French
occupation of Acadia. Gilbert Parker
also caught and embodied the charac-
teristics of the early days in north-
western Canada ; he is being followed
by W. A. Fraser, Bleasdell Cameron
and others. It is said that Robert
Barr's next story will picture an early
period in the history of Ontario, as his
flrst novel pictured the days that were
filled with the fears of a Fenian inva-
sion. Dr, Drummond has mirrored in
verse the simple tast«s and habits of the
French Canadian habitant, and a writer
may yet arise who will find something
worthy of record in the modern life of
English Canada.
The United States people would not
so thoroughly appreciate and under-
stand themselves were it not that they
had J. Fenimore Cooper, Washington
Irving, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Harriet
Beecher Stowe, William Dean Howells
and the numerous other writers who
have dealt with the varying phases of
their three hundred years of develop-
The histories, biographies and books
of travel which are being produced to-
day could not have been written a
hundred years ago. The world has
been enlarged by the steam-driven
ocean -carriage, and we are learning the
full extent of the world's complex
population. New lands and new peo-
ples have been revealed, and all these
additions to our knowledge are making
for a broader basis upon which to erect
our thought and action.
The modern book is as much a neces-
sity to the modern man as the book of
the eighteenth century was to the man
who lived then. The modern has
this advantage : he possesses the
accumulated books of the centuries in
addition to the works of his contem-
poraries.
The variety of tastes demands a
variety of books. The cultured student
of English may prefer the graceful ease
and perfect style of Stevenson to the
" sermonic application of incident"
which has gained so many readers for
Mrs. Humphrey Ward. The youths of
the present generation were fed on W.
H. G. Kingston, G. A. Henty ; the
girls started with " Pansy " and Annie
S. Swan ; but as men and women, these
same persons demand something bet-
ter, higher, more artistic. Whether
they ever reach the height where they
demand the purely artistic representa-
tion, free from all moral analysis or
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THE COMMISSION'S WORK— COUNTER INFLUENCES
>3
discussion, depends to a great extent
on the thoroug'hness of their literary
education. But every reader of books
passes from class to class and at each
step finds interest in a different kind of
book. This variety in men and women
demands a variety in books, which the
publisher of lo-day supplies — wiih per-
haps a little unnecessary prodigality.
With these thoughts in mind, even
current Canadian books of the better
grades must have an additional value.
First, they please and refine by their
artistic qualities ; then they stimulate
and interest by their expositions of
nature and humanity ; and lastly they
broaden our view of Canada and of
Canadian civilization by describing to
us the Canadians who are and who
have been. And he will be the greatest
Canadian who recognizes most thor-
oughly the developing genius of the
Canadian people.
John A. Cooper,
THE COMMISSION'S WORK— COUNTER INFLUENCES.
BV JOHN CHARLTON, M.P.
'T^HE work assigned by the Govern-
*- ments of Great Britain and the
United States to the Anglo-American
Joint High Commission is one of great
magnitude. Several of the questions
referred to this diplomatic body would
singly have furnished subjects of con-
sideration for weeks, or indeed, for
monilis, judged by the progress usually
made in diplomatic affairs. Nearly all
of the questions are of great interna-
tional consequence. Enumerated in the
order of their importance, they are : the
question of Trade Relations, the Al-
askan Boundary, the North-eastern
Fisheries question, the Pelagic Sealing
question, the Bonding Privilege, the
Transit Privilege, Reciprocity in Min-
ing Rights, Building of War Vessels
upon the Great Lakes, Alien Labour
Law, ajid the Regulations of the In-
land Fisheries.
That the Commission should be ex-
pected to settle all these questions in
the course of a few weeks is unreason-
able; and that careful, painstaking, and
even devoted attention to their labours
has been given by ail the members of
this diplomatic body need not be doubt-
ed. The devotion of Sir Wilfrid I.au-
rier and his colleagues to the promotion
and conserving of the interests of Ca-
nada is asserted without the slightest
hesitation, and it may be said with
equal assurance that up to the present
moment no mistake has been made in
the management of the negotiations
by the British Commissioners.
It is unfortunate that an agreement
could not have been reached upon the
Alaskan Boundary question. It is
only necessary to say in reference to
the matter that the fault does not lie
with the British Commissioners. It is
perhaps not visionary to expect that an
impartial Court of Arbitration will give
an award even more favourable to Ca-
nadian interests than a settlement upon
the terms the British Commissioners
were prepared to accept would have
been.
It does not follow from this failure
to agree to terms of settlement upon
one of the points of reference, that a
treaty in the main satisfactory will not
be finally negotiated. The public are
not in a position to criticize the acts of
the Commission, the nature of its con-
ferences, or the line of arguments
adopted by the British Commissioners,
for the simple reason that the informa-
tionis not available upon which an intel-
ligent opinion relating to these matters
can be founded.
The adjournment of the Commission
to meet in August next, was beyond
question a prudent and advisable act.
At Ihe time the adjournment was de-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
cided upon, but a few days would
elapse before the adjournment of the
United States Senate on March 4th.
No possibility of securing' a treaty in
time for reference to that body, exist-
ed. Its next meeting would take place,
unless an extra Session of Congress
was called, in December, 1899. A
pressing necessity existed for calling
the Dominion Parliament together.
The lapse of time had been working in
favour of the Canadian contentions,
and it was reasonable to believe would
continue to do so. The re-assembling
of the Commission will lake place at a
period when ample lime will be afford-
ed for reaching a decision upon all
questions before the meeting of Con-
gress or of Parliament, for it must be
remembered that these questions have
all been fully discussed, and it will be
no breach of confidence to assert that
upon many of them tentative agree-
ments have been arrived at, the fulfil-
ment of which is contingent, of course,
upon the satisfactory settlement of all
the questions that the Commission has
to pass upon.
Under all these circumstances, the
attitude of certain classes and parties
in Canada in reference to the work of
the Commission is not only unreason-
able, but mischievous. A Jingo senti-
ment seems to be rampant in certain
quarters, whichis diametrically opposed
in spirit and act to the sentiment of
cordiality and good-will each for the
other which prevails in the United
States and Great Britain. The parties
entertaining these .sentiments do not
seem to realize the resistless march of
events that lead, under the direction of
a higher hand, to Anglo-Saxon entity
and community of action. While
weighty events are transpiring, and a
great epoch of the world's history is
evolving its mighty results under our
very eyes, these agitators and growlers
are oblivious to all that stands outside
of their own limited range of selfish
interests and circumscribed vision.
One who wishes well for the future
of the world, and who appreciates the
importance of the mission of the Eng-
lish-speaking race, cannot but be pain-
ed at widely-uttered expressions of
satisfaction that the Commission has
adjourned without making a treaty,
and the avowal of hopes that no treaty
will ever be made. These expressions
often come from men who ought to
know better, and who might be sup-
posed to possess intelligence and capa-
bility that would lead to a more rea-
sonable and creditable expression of
opinion and desire.
The existence of this sentiment, so far
as it is a factor exercising influence upon
the case, is mischievous and prejudicial
to the interests of the work which all
friends ofhumanity most certainly desire
that the Joint High Commission should
satisfactorily accomplish. If the in-
fluence of this sentiment had been con-
fined merely to expressions of opinion,
it might have been passed over as not
of sufficient importance to require no-
tice, but it has manifested its character
and purpose in concrete acts. It is
the parent of the embarrassing alien
labour law of British Columbia, and
of the unjust and ill-advised log ejtport
embargo law of the Province of the
Ontario ; and it is constantly agitating
for legislative action of a character
that will certainly imperil friendly re-
lations and create disagreeable and
dangerous complications.
The prohibition of the export of a
merchantable commodity, whether raw
material or manufactured article, is
scarcely in accordance with the friendly
comity that should exist between civil-
ized states, except the act is adopted
in relation to articles that are declared
to be contraband of war; but this Jingo
element in the Dominion has secured
the passage of the two laws alluded to,
one being practically a prohibition of
export, the other an application of ao
unfriendly policy with which the Com-
mission is dealing, and the adjustment
of which is a subject of negotiation
whose successful issue is made more
difficult by this action. This element
further demands the prohibition of the
export of pulp wood, an export duty
upon nickel ore, and an export duty
upon lead ores, and would be guilty of
any conceivable fiscal vagary that in
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THE COMMISSION'S WORK— COUNTER INFLUENCES
the estimation of its leaders would be
likely to coerce the United States or
injure rival interests.
The Ontario log export embargo law
is calculated to prove a very serious
obstacle to the adjustment on a satis-
factory basis of the lumber duty ques-
tion. The law arouses much indig;na-
tion in the United States, it is con>
sidered practically an act of confisca-
tioa as to sales made prior to its en-
actment, and where its provisions were
not made a condition of sale. It is
severely condemned by the United States
Commissioners, and its natural influ-
ence upon negotiations can not fail to be
to render the party from whom conces-
sions are asked reluctant to give them
because of irritation and of fear that
the concessions might be attributed to
the pressure of this absurd law. It
has also unfortunately inflicted a serious
blow upon Canadian interests, and has,
in the estimation of United States
investors, sullied the business and
political reputation of Canada.
As a consequence of this law millions
of dollars of American capital have been
deterred from investment in Canadian
"business enterprises, such as miningand
lumbering. The parties who otherwise
would have been disposed to make
such investment were nervous lest legis-
lation of a corresponding character
should, after their investments were
made, render them incapable of making
use 'without restraint of the products
of the investments in such a manner as
their interests required and legitimate
business consideration rendered neces-
sary. Nelson Dingley publicly stated
at the time of the last meeting of the
Joint High Commission in Quebec that
to his personal knowledge up to that
time ten million dollars of American
-capital had been diverted from propos-
ed investments in Canada in conse-
quence of the Ontario log export em-
bargo law.
An examination into the circum-
stances preceding the enactment of
this law, which was an act practically
forced upon the Ontario Government
by the clamour of selfish interests,
■backed by a sentimental, popular de-
mand not founded upon proper know-
ledge of the situation or just apprecia-
tion of the character of the measure,
will be sufficient to convince the candid
mind that it is wrong. The United
States mill owners in Michigan, having
exhausted the available supply of timber
in that State, found upon their hands
idle mills and salt blocks, which of
course they were anxious to keep in
operation. For the purpose of doing
so, large purchases of timber were
made in Ontario, situated at points
where it could be conveyed to these
mills in rafts. These investments
were made at the invitation of the On-
tario Government, by whom notices of
sale and descriptions of limits offered
were sent to United States lumber firms.
They were made with the full know-
ledge of the Ontario Government that
the purposes of the purchasers were to
take the logs to their mills. The
prices paid for these limits for this pur-
pose were very large, the business of
exporting the logs was permitted to
continue for a term of years, lasting
from the time of purchase till 189S
without hindrance on the part of the
Ontario Government. The right to
export these logs had been recognized
by the Ontario Government in one of
its public sales of a comparatively re-
cent date. When the first limit offered
was put up, subject to the condition of
manufacture in Ontario, bidding was
languid and unsatisfactory prices were
received ; and in consequence that
condition was removed in subsequent
sales; and then, in the case of the limit
sold subject to the condition of manu-
facture in Ontario, the condition was
removed for a comparatively insignifi-
cant consideration. The rif>ht to make
the sweeping changes embodied in the
law under consideration, practically
amounting to confiscation, were as-
sumed to be warranted by the power
reserved by the Government to make
regulations when issuing licenses. The
power thus reserved unquestionably
referred to such matters as fire protec-
tion, reservation of timber below a cer-
tain minimum size, ground rent, Crown
dues, and other matters directly per-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
taining; to proper care of the Govern-
ment's interest in stumpage. It is ab-
surd to suppose that it was ever con-
templated that the power to regulate
the management of Crown timber lim-
its could be held to permit the Govern-
ment to practically coaliscate the in-
terest of the holder as an incident of
management, or to prevent the pur-
chaser from making use of a limit after
he had paid for it, according to the or-
dinary methods of business, and for
his own advantage.
The exportation of logs has been one
of the most profitable branches of Ca-
nadian lumbering, and the Algoma dis-
trict, where this business has centred,
has been the most prosperous section
of the lumbering areas of Canada.
Many Canadian firms have engaged in
this business because it offered to them
the chance to make a more profitable
disposition of their timber than could
be secured in any other way. Among
these Canadian firms may be mention-
ed Mr. John Bertram, representing the
Collins Bay Inlet Company ; Hale &
Booth, of Ottawa ; A. Barnett & Son,
Carswell & Francis, Cutler & Savage,
Gordon & Company, the Muskoka
Lumber Company, the Ontario Lum-
ber Company, the Conger Lumber
Company, and other firms who have
either exported logs direct or have
sold them for the purpose of exporta-
tion.
The belief that the Ontario log ex-
port embargo law is a weapon which
will tend to the securing of concessions
in the matter of abatement or removal
of lumber duties is ridiculous. Its con-
sequences tall upon that class of United
States lumbermen who have invest-
ments in Canadian limits, who are our
friends, who have worked earnestly
and intelligently for a reduction of lum-
ber duties in the United States to the
full extent that in their judgment it was
possible to obtain, who have spent large
sums of money in behalf of this pur-
pose when the Dingley Bill was under
consideration, and whose efforts dur-
ing the progress of negotiations in the
joint High Commission were more
fruitful of results and of more value to
the Canadian lumber interest than any
other influence that was brought to
bear. These men are subjected to the
provisions of this law and the serious
loss consequent upon their enforce-
ment, under the senseless belief that
their losses will influence the great
mass of United States lumbermen who
desire high duties and the exclusion of
lumber either in the form of saw logs
or boards from the American market,
to grant an abatement or an abolition of
duty. The truth is that the purposes
of ninety-seven per cent, of the United
States lumbermen who desire the re-
tention of a $3.00 duty are well served
by this law which plays into their
hands and serves their interests, while
the three percent, of American lumber-
men who are interested in Canadian
log exportation and who desire to see
all restrictions upon lumber importa-
tions removed have, in conjunction
with the Canadian firms interested in
this trade, to suffer all the penal conse-
quences that the law inflicts.
If it is conceded that the promoters
of this law are men of intelligence, who
can correctly gauge its influence and
understand the character of its opera-
tion, their action in the premises can
with difficulty be accounted for. Pos-
sibly it is like some of the stock-job-
bing operations on the stock exchange.
They may be bears in the pine timber
markets, desiring to purchase limits at
low figures and exerting their influence
to secure and retain legislation calcu-
lated to produce disaster among lum-
bermen, for the purpose of being able
to buy timber limits cheap. If this is
not the case, their efforts are sadly
misapplied and their calculations wild-
ly astray.
Better relations between Canada and
the United States it is needless to say
are most desirable. In the United
States a better state of feeling exists
towards Canada than at any time since
1866, and a disposition exists to make
the commercial relations between the
two countries broader and more liberal.
This disposition will grow if permitted
to do so. The concessions that may
now be secured will prove to be enter-
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VANCOUVER
vag wedges for still g^reater cooces-
sioDS ID the near future. Feelings of
good-will and amity should be sedu-
lously cultivated. We should restrain
our dislikes and any desire which we
may have to make attempts to coerce,
and should seek to acquire the ele-
mentary principles of the laws of force,
and realize that six million people can-
not, without the intervention of super-
natural influences, bring seventy seven
million people to their knees. We
should bear in mind that certain provin-
cial character! sties which manifest them-
selves in a manner somewhat annoy-
ing and at times embarrassing to Eng'
lish statesmen, should as far as possible
be avoided. If we can settle down to
a state of mind which will enable us to
determine to cultivate the graces of
good-fellowship, fairness and modera-
tion, we will be acting strictly in line
with the desires of those who have
charge of the destinies of the great
Empire to which we belong, and will
also be moving in the direction of
the consummation of our own best in-
terests.
It is desirable that Canada should
be alive to her own interests. The in-
creasing aspirations for national life
and expansion are welcome signs of
the times. The efforts these aspira-
tions command should be intelligent.
While respecting ourselves and aim-
ing to promote our own interests, we
should respect our obligations and our
honour. A more distinctive national
policy may become desirable. It may
become advisable to have a more
thorough reciprocity with the United
States in the matter of tariffs if we
cannot reach a fair degree of reciprocity
in the matter of trade. It will never,
however, be advisable or necessary to
repudiate our obligations or break
faith. No temporary advantage gained
can compensate for the degrading in-
fluence of such an act, and no action
of that kind will commend itself to the
considerate judgment of truly patriotic
John Charlton.
VANCOUVER.
IF any man shall ever say to thee:
"Show me the hand-work of the strong-willed West,"
Point them beyond the Rockies' snowy crest
And say: "Behold yon city by the seal
Scarce twelve brief years ago, and lonesomely
The Indian roamed her streets, then wildly dressed
With trees and vines through which the cougar
pressed
And knew a lair secure to which to flee!
"Now hear her voice — her loud, strong roar of power!
Behold the ships that fly to bear her gold I
She was poor-born, butio! she now hath dower
Of priceless wealth, for she is from a mould
From which but great things come — a noble cast —
And shall grow greater as the years go past !"
Elv^n Itving Hoffman.
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H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES.
HIS VISIT TO CANADA, AND OTHER EVENTS IN HIS CAREER.
WAS it merely accidental, or was it
done designedly ? Such is the
question that often presents itself to
the mind of the observer of passing
events, when it is seen how closely the
early official career of His Royal High-
ness the Prince of Wales was inter-
woven with the history of Canada.
Was this little more than an accidental
circumstance, an incident or series of
incidents in the education of the Prince,
or was it done designedly with the in-
tention and in the hope of drawing the
then little known colonies of British
North America into closer touch with
the mother country?
These questions are not quite so
easily answered as might be supposed.
There was undoubtedly a wish to please
the colonists of British North America
when the Queen with the concurrence
of the Ministry of the day decided that
the first royal progress made by the
Prince of Wales should be through
Canada.
That fact can clearly be taken for
granted, that and no more.
It is mere idle talk, the mere imag-
inings of a fertile imagination, to say
that the Prince of Wales' visit to Ca-
nada was, in Her Majesty's mind, in-
tended as a feeler in the direction of
the policy which we now know as Im-
perial Federation. Some one or two
writers of more notoriety than solidity
have started this theory, though it has
generally been admitted by them when
putting fortvard the idea that there is
little or no evidence beyond that of in-
ference to support it. That such a
view was clearly not that of the British
public is plainly evidenced by the fol-
lowing extract from a letter written by
the special correspondent of The Times
newspaper, who accompanied the
Prince on his North American journey.
He had been speaking ot how little was
known of Canada in England, and he
thus concludes :
of this British posiessions in Nortli America
will force their notice on Eilgli>i)d and hs peo-
ple, who will then learn with as much pleas-
ure as surprise that their colony, known only
under the ifeneral name of OanndH, is an Em-
pire of the west interior only to the United
States."
It is necessary now to retrace our
steps slightly and revert to the period
when the Prince of Wales made his de-
but in public life, that debut being con-
nected directly with Canada and with
the regiment of infantry raised by the
Imperial Government on Canadian soil.
The Prince of Wales was in 1858,
when he had little more than completed
his seventeenth year, gazetted a col-
onel in the British army, and his first
act as one of the commissioned officers
of his Royal mother's forces was to pre-
sent colours to the Hundredth or Prince
of Wales' Royal Canadian Regiment.
The presentation of the colours took
place at Shorncliffe camp early in the
year 1859, and from then until the
middle of the fallowing year there was
nothing in the public life of the Prince
of Wales especially connected either
with Canada or Canadians.
I was iftihe Isle of Wight in July,
iS&o, spending a portion of the summer
at East Cowes, at no great distance
from Osborne House, Her Majesty's
marine residence. Whilst there, I
think it was about July 9, I saw the
Prince of Wales for the first time. He
was then driving from Osborne House
to Trinity Pier, East Cowes, en route
to Plymouth, where he was to embark
for Canada. I was with a part^ of
friends, and we raised our hats to tiim
and called out as he went on board the
tender that we wished him a speedy
journey across the Atlantic and a pleas-
ant visit in Canada. He raised his hat
in reply, while we joined in the cheer-
ing that arose when the vessel steamed
out inio the Solent.
The Prince's journey across the At-
lantic was, so ihe newspaper corres-
pondents inform us, almost devoid of
incident. He was was not troubled
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H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES
with mal de nter, and he
appears to have been most
popular. A private letter
of the time speaking of
him says : " His grace,
affability and kind good
nature won the hearts of
Let I
the
pleasure of glancing brief-
ly at the Prince of Wales'
royal progress through
Canada. It is hard to be-
lieve that it is more than
thirty-eight years since he
left our shores, and that
by lar the greater number
of those who welcomed
him here on his arrival
have passed away to swell
the ranits of the great and
silent majority.
The Prince arrived at
Newfoundland on July 23.
He had sailed from Ply-
mouth on July 10, conse-
quently had taken nearly
a fortnight to cross the
Atlantic. His reception at
Newfoundland was cordial
and loyal in the extreme,
all classes uniting in giv-
ing H. R. H. the most
hearty welcome. Among
other mementos of his Frsm a Ra
visit to Newfoundland
which he took away with him was a mag-
nificent specimen of the dogs for which
it isso justly famous. This dog caused
not only a considerable amount of am-
usement, but was a great deal of anx-
iety to the Prince of Wales and to those
whose duty it was to take care of his
property. The dog had been called
Hero, and so long as the Prince of
Wales remained on board the troop-
ship which had brought him from Eng-
land constant watchfulness had to be
used to prevent Hero going overboard
for a swim with or without provoca-
tion. Even if Hero was allowed to
take exercise between decks, an open
porthole giving him a glimpse of the
river was quite sufficient to make him
Jump through it into what appeared to
■Hi PhUBgntk Iv Hills Sf Sttundcn. «/' Oi/eni.
be almost his natural element. At
last it was found that Hero must be
permanently tied up, or a boat fully
manned must always be kept in readi-
ness to go after him when he chose
to resort to the water. The former
alternative was chosen.
After leaving Newfoundland the
Prince visited Halifax, New Bruns-
wick, Prince Edward Island, the Sag-
uenay, and then Quebec. The latter
historic city was then the capital of
the United Canadas, and during his
visit there the Prince knighted the
Speakers of both the Legislative Coun-
cil and Assembly. I shall again quote
in this connection the testimony ot
The Times correspondent as to the
feeling evoked in Canada by the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZfXE
of the Prince of Wales. He says: "To
my astoolshment 1 find that the whole
land from Halifax to Lake Huron re-
sounded only with preparations for the
approaching royal visit, Ii. was diffi-
cult to find a paper which was not full
of acrostics on the name of Albert
Edward, verses in his praise, anecdotes
of his childhood, and predictions of a
future career which should equal that
of his Royal mother, whose name, it
must be said, was never mentioned in
Canada or the United States but in
such terms of reverence as every Eng-
lishman feels glad and proud to hear.
It was Prince's hats, Prince's boots.
Prince's umbrellas, Prince's coats.
Prince's cigars, and the whole country
nodded with Prince's coronets and
feathers,"
H.R.H. arrived in Quebec about the
middle of August, and was received
there on "a lavish scale of splendour
and hospitality, and distinguished by
such boundless enthusiasm of loyalty. "
Among the festivities in Quebec in
honour of the Prince was a grand
ball, the dance programme of which
contained twenty-four dances, and of
these the Prince joined in no less than
twenty-two. An amusing incident
happened to him and his partner dur-
ing the festivities. Horrible to relate
the Prince fell, and with him his fair
partner ! The Canadian papers ignored
the incident; not so, though, one at
least of those in New York. That
journal related what had occurred in
the most exaggerated language, and
not only did it do that, but the account
was headed with the following astound-
ing head lines :
The Canadian Commotion.
Splendid Splurge of the Quebecers.
The Prince at the Grand Ball given by
the City.
He danced twenty-two times, tripped
and fell.
His beautiful partner rolled over him.
Honi soit qui mal y pense.
The Prince immediately picked himself
and partner up.
And continued the dance.
Terrible flutter of crinoline.
From Quebec the Prince proceeded
to Montreal where he drove the last
rivet, a silver one, of the Victoria
bridge, thus completing that wonder-
ful, triumph of engineering' skill. At
Montreal as at Halifax and Quebec the
Prince was received with the greatest
hospitality and enthusiasm, which was
continued throughout the whole of his
Canadian tourat every place he visited.
The Prince arrived in Toronto by the
steamer Kingston early in September,
and the only thing which marred his
visit to the Queen City was the con-
tinual downpour of rain during the
time he was there. After leaving Mon-
treal, the Prince before reaching To-
ronto had visited Ottawa, and there
laid the foundation stone of the present
Parliament Buildings. Whilst in To-
ronto he opened the Horticultural Gar-
dens, planted trees, was present at a
ball given in the old Crystal Palace
which stood on the Garrison Commons
between the Provincial Lunatic Asylum
and the lake, attended the Royal Cana-
dian Yacht Club's regatta, received
deputations from Trinity and Toronto
Universities, from Upper Canada Col-
lege, and the Veterans of the war of
1S12, reviewed the Militia, and held a
levee, besides receiving addresses from
deputations all but innumerable. After
leaving Toronto the Prince visited
Hamilton, the Ambitious City, and
London, the Forest City. The Times
correspondent describes the latter place
thus; " This colonial backwoods par-
ody of the great metropolis."
However, whether it was a back-
woods settlement or not, the London-
ers gave H.R.H. a magnificent recep-
tion, convincing him that even if they
were in the backwoods they were as
loyal subjects as those who frequented
"the shady side of Pall Mall." It is
amusing to note what the Times cor-
respondent, and this ts the last time I
shall quote him, had to say about Lon-
don, No doubt there is some truth in
the satire, but it is one of those things
which, as Punch would say, "might
have been expressed differently." The
quotation is this : " In London a real
Londoner might safely intimate that
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H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF IVALES
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
the city does not much remind him of
that which he has left behind, though
woe betide any Lower Canadian or
American who should do the same, or
draw any comparison disparaging to
the London of Canada West."
Whilst at Niagara the Prince of
Wales laid the coping stone of Brock's
monument, which had been inaugurat-
ed with great ceremony by General Sir
Fenwick Williams, of Kars, who was
a native of Halifax, on October 13th
previously.
The Prince, after leav-
ing Canada, proceeded
toj Detroit, being ac-
companied.to the fron-
tier by Mr., afterwards
Sir, John A. Macdon-
ald.
It is not necessary to
. follow him in his travels
throughout the United
States ; it is sufficient
to state that every where
was the greatest hospi-
tality and courtesy ex-
tended to him; indeed,
had the people of many
of the places he visited
been British subjects,
their welcome could not
have been heartier.
The Prince of Wales
came of age in Novem-
ber, 1862, the event,
death of the Prince Con-
sort, being allowed to
pass without anyjgreat
amount of public Jre-
joicings either in Great
Britain or elsewhere.
About the same time
that H.R.H. attained
his majority his be-
trothal to the Princess
Alexandra of Denmark
was announced, which
the most unbounded
satisfaction by all class-
es, by all sorts and con-
ditions of men through-
out the British Empire.
The Princess arrived in England on
March 7th, 1863, and made a trium-
phal progress from the Bricklayers'
Arms railway station, on the " Surrey
side the river," through the metropolis
to Paddinglon station. The scene at
the Mansion House, where the Prin-
cess was welcomed by the Lord Mayor
of London, was one that stilt lingers in
the memory of all those who witnessed
it. In whatever direction one looked
there was one vast mass of people and
upturned faces. Here were the scarlet-
■t Ch-'ftl.
QUEEN.
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H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES
coated troopers of the Life
Guards with their cuiiasses
sparkling and glimmering in
the tight, sitting their splen-
did chargers as if they and
their steeds were one, and in
as perfect command of them-
selves, as they preceded and
followed the Royal carriages,
despite the enormous crowds
pressing on all sides, as if
they were only on the Horse
Guards parade ground. Then
there were the men of the
Brigade of Foot Guards, also
in scarlet, with their tower-
ing bear-skin headdresses,
some of them wearing medals
for their gallant deeds in the
Crimea, and with memories
also of a day but six years
previously when they, too, on
their return from the Eastern
campaign, were welcomed
back to^ London by crowds
whose enthusiasm was al-
most as great as that then
displayed towards the "Sea
King's Daughter." Then
there were the sombre uni-
forms of the men of the 6oth ^"^ pR'"*
Royal Rifles, the light grey
tunics and feathered shakos
of the London Scottish Volunteers, the
blue and gojd of the Royal Artillery
and the dear old familiar red-coated
infantry of the line.
The troops, as became them, were
silent, but the voice of welcome which
went up from the people was a roar
rather than a shout. It has been com-
puted that nearly one and a-half mil-
lions of people were on the route of the
Royal procession from the railway sta-
tion where the Princess arrived in Lon-
don, in company with the Prince of
Wales, who had met her at Gravesend,
to Paddiogton, where she and her af-
fianced husband departed for Windsor.
The Princess' entry into London was
on Saturday, March 7th, 1863, and the
marriage ceremony took place at
Windsor, in the gorgeous and historic
chapel of St. George, on the following
Tuesday, March loth.
Pkalotratk in 1864. ty Vernon HralA.
It may be appropriately mentioned
here that the Prince of Wales had, on
February 5th, 1863, but little more than
a month previous to his marriage, taken
his seat at the opening of Parliament in
the House of Peers, the titles under
which he was sworn in being Duke of
Cornwall, Earl of Chester, Earl of Car-
rick, Earl of Rothsay and Lord of the
Isles. It was a singular and unprece-
dented occurrence, that of a Prince of
Wales taking his seat as a peer of the
realm in the hereditary branch of the
Legislature at the same time that the
speech from the throne announced his
approaching marriage to a foreign
princess.
To return to the marriage. After
the ceremony was over and the Royal
couple had taken leave of Her Majesty
the Queen and the parents of the bride,
the King and Queen of Denmark, they
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
proceeded by train through the historic
town of Basiiig;stoke with its ruined
castle, and the still more historic city
of Winchester, once the capital of Eng-
land, famous for the cathedral wherein
reposes all that is mortal of William
Rufus, the second of England's Nor-
man kings, to the pretty seaport of
Southampton, where, on the Royal yacht
Fairy, they embarked for Trinity Pier,
East Cowes.
As it had been my lot to witness the
embarkation from the same place some
two and a half years previously of the
Prince of Wales for Canada, so was it
mine to see him arrive there on the
evening of March loth with his bride.
What a welcome he received I It was
a genuine, hearty, loyal greeting.
Triumphal arches were there in the
streets through which the newly-wed-
ded couple passed, the houses were
garlanded with wreaths and ornament-
ed with flowers, transparencies with
the words "Welcome" and "God
bless you " were everywhere ; but
these were a mere nothing to the
heartiness of the cheering, to the out-
spoken enthusiasm displayed by one
and all, to the love felt for and so un-
equivocally accorded by the people to,
the eldest son of that Queen who was
not only their neighbour but their
friend, and whom they delighted to
honour in the person of her son.
It was a wet, drizzling evening, but
in the half mile or so between Trinity
Pier and Osborne House the windows
of the Royal carriage were never once
raised, both Prince and Princess smil-
ing and bowing an acknowledgment of
their welcome along the entire route.
Eight years and more passed by, and
once again was the heart of Britain
and her Dependencies moved by the ill-
ness almost unto death of the Prince of
Wales. It was in December, 1871,
and the Prince lay at Sandringham
prostrate with fever, hovering between
life and death. Never has England
witnessed such a feeling of heartfelt
loyalty, of devoted sympathy to and
with the Royal family as was then
seen. The condition of the Prince was
chronicled hour by hour, and on the
Sunday when the disease was at the
worst, and people dreaded that every
moment would bring the news of his
death, such crowds assembled in the
churches and places of worship to join
in fervent prayer to God for his recov-
ery as had never previously been wit-
nessed. Nor were these prayers con-
fined to Christian churches and congre-
gations nor to any particular denomin-
ation. The Anglican minister, the
Roman Catholic priest — the clergy and
lay preachers of every sect united with
their people in asking the Almighty to
spare his life while from distant India
came the news that in the Parsee,
Buddhist and Brahmin temples the
mercy of the "Great Unseen" was
sought for by these Asiatics on behalf
of the life of that Prince who might
one day be their ruler.
By God's mercy the Prince recover-
ed and the scene when he, early in 1872,
went to St. Paul's Cathedral to give
thanks for that all but miraculous
restoration to health, was as solemn as
it was impressive and imposing.
In the long years that have elapsed
since the Prince of Wales visited Ca-
nada, to quote an historic phrase,
" many things have happened since
then." This sentence was uttered by
a well-known politician in England to
excuse his tergiversation on an impor-
tant point of policy ; but, though many
things have happened, one of those
which have not happened is any de-
crease in interest by the Prince of Wales
in Canada. His sons have visited the
Dominion ; his sister, the Princess
Louise, Marchioness of Lome, lived
here as the consort of one of the most
accomplished of our Governors-Gene-
ral ; and Canadian statesmen and public
men of all political parties, or of no
political party, have always been re-
ceived by H.R.H.. either officially at
Mariborough House or privately at
Sandringham, with the greatest kind-
ness, honoured not only as representa-
tives of " England's greatest colony,"
but as residents of that land where the
Prince made his first royal visit, where
he was so loyally welcomed, which fact
he remembers, as he is always careful
Digitized by Google
H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES
to state, with feelings of
unmixed pleasure and
gratitude, and where his
royiil grandfather hail so-
journed, now just one
hundred years ugo.
The Prince gave a most
convincing proof of the
interest he takes in Ca-
nada by the reception he
gave to the Canadian de-
legates at the Indian and
Colonial Exhibition, held
in Kensington in 1886.
again at the Jubilee cf
1887, and yet again in the
Silver Jubilee of 1897.
A few wiirds may be
iaidas to the position the
Prince t;
11 the p
world.
Pliologrnl-li€ii c
'nlike some
of his great uncles, the
sons of George III., the
Prince has never, in the
forty years which have
elapsed since he entered
public life, uttered one
single word in favour of,
or identified himself in
any way with, any of the
various political parties.
Though he is well known
to be capable of forming
an opinion on public questions, and
though he is generally believed to take
a keen interest in political controversy,
his mind to everyone on such matters is
as impenetrable as the Sphinx.
His relations with Lord Palmerston
were as cordial as those with Lord
Derby. He was equally the friend of
Earls Russell and Beaconslield. His
friendship for Mr. Gladstone is well
known, and he has been a visitor at
Hatfield and Dalmeny, the seats of
Lords Salisbury and Rosebery respec-
tively. He has entertained, and does
entertain, men whose opinions are as
divergent as the poles ; among such
may be named the Archbishop of Can-
HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN.
BurkinghaiH Palart in iSg}, fy Giinn &■ Stuarl. Loadai,
terbury and Mr. John Morley, Sir Wil-
liam Harcourt and Mr. Arthur Balfour,
Mr. Joseph Chamberlain and Mr. A. J.
Mundella, Sir John A. Macdonald and
Sir Wilfrid Laurier, besides manyolhers
that might be mentioned, notablyjoseph
Arch, the famous agricultural labourers'
advocate.
Truly has the Prince of Wales "a
goodly heritage," and it is the earnest,
heartfelt prayer of all those over whom
he may be one day called to reign that
he may fulfil the promise of his youth
and manhood, and that the reign of
Edward Vll. will add one more bright
and glorious page to the annals of the
Empire.
Thos. E. Champion,
Digitized byGoOgIC
A TRIP INTO THE SASKATCHEWAN COUNTRY.
BY SAMUEL BRAY, C.E., D. and O.L.S.
With Drawings by W, Goode, from Sketches by the Author.
Lake Winnipeg, have their headquar-
ters here. They are well equipped
with steam'tug;s, barges and fii>hing
boats, and have large establishments
at different points on the lake, where
the fish are frozen and then shipped to
West Selkirk in barges properly ar-
ranged for the purpose. From West
Selkirk the fish are forwarded to
different points, principally in the Un-
ited Slates.
I arrived at West Selkirk after the
fishing boats had ceased to make their
usual trips. However, after some de-
lay we secured a passage to Grand
Rapids with the fishing tug Idell,
which left West Selkirk on the 21st
August, having in tow an almost empty
barge. The Idell was a small boat lit-
erally filled with wood to supply its
own engine. As we would have very
little space to move about in and would
have to suffer considerable annoyance
from smoke and heat on the tug, we
decided to take up our quarters for the
TN the autumn of 1894 I was sent
-1- under instructions from the De-
partment of Indian AFairs to arrange
some land matters and to survey the
limits of certain lands to be set apart
as Indian Reserves at points on the
Saskatchewan River, Moose Lake and
the Carrot River. At West Selkirk I
engaged an assistant ; this young
gentleman was the only white man 1
had with me. At each Indian settle-
ment I engaged as many Indians or
Half-breeds as were required for the
work and paid all of them off at its
conclusion, except three or four who
were engaged as cook and canoe-men
to take us on to the next Indian settle-
ment.
West Selkirk, a terminus of abranch
line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, isa
prosperous town, situated on the west
bank of the Red River and about six-
teen miles from its mouth. A number
of fishing companies, who carry on
their operations on a large scale in
,Gooj^le
A TRIP INTO THE SASKATCHEWAN COUNTRY
trip on the barge, although we then
had to prepare our own meals and to
make shake-downs for ourselves by
way of beds. We had for fellow-pas-
sengers the Indian Agent in charge of
the " Pas " Agency, and the Hudson's
Bay Company's agent, in charge of the
Post at Chimawawin on Cedar Lake.
The clear, bracing air, and abundance
of room on the barge made the trip up
the lake very enjoyable.
We arrived at Grand Rapids on the
24th and pitched our camp at the Hud-
son's Bay Company's post on the north
bank of the river. Grand Rapids is
well named. There the great Sas-
katchewan River, after rushing down
a veritable "grand rapids," enters
Lake Winnipeg. The river for the last
ten miles of
its course is
a succes-
sengers and freight at the Hudson's
Bay Company's post at the foot of the
rapids, and a tramway, three and a
half miles long, conveyed them to the
steamboat landing above the rapids.
This traffic has been stopped for sev-
eral years and consequently the very
fair buildings above the rapids are not
used at all, and those below only oc-
casionally. Already they are showing
signs of neglect and decay.
On the evening of my arrival, after
the usual pow-wow with the Chief and
Councillors of the Grand Rapids In-
dian Reserve, I arranged to proceed
the next day with the survey required
at that point. Our first day's work
was confined almost wholly toa "mus-
keg." We have very extensive tracts
miles a-
bove, but
even it can be easily run in a boat or
canoe. The ascent is very difficult,
however. The Hudson'sBayCompany's
btge York boats were formerly tracked
up, and two steam-boats were some
years ago, after three weeks' hard
work, pulled up these four miles of
rapids.
Prior to the advent of a railway to
Prince Albert, steamboats plied up
and down the Saskatchewan for two
or three seasons, from Edmonton to
the head of the rapids, a distance by
the river of nearly one thousand miles.
Now only one steamer makes an an-
nual trip with supplies for the different
Hudson's Bay Company's posts. The
lake steamboats used to land their pas-
of land in Canada covered with "mus-
keg." A muskeg may be described as
a moss or peat swamp, sometimes bare
of trees, but usually covered with scat-
tered, small tamaracs or spruce. The
moss or peat varies in depth from two
feet to considerably over one hundred
feet. In the spring the muskegs are
full of water which, throughout the
summer, slowly dries or drains off. In
the fall some of them are fairly dry,
but usually they remain damp and wet.
On account of the softness and depth
of the wet moss of this particular muS'
keg, we sank from six to eight*
inches at every step, and as I had not
been out of an office for a long I
there was one very tired man in 1
, Google
28
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
that evening. Great interest is begin-
ning to be taken in muskegs generally
on account of the apparent success of
experiments made to compress the
peat into a hard and valuable fuel.
For many years the dried peal has been
extensively used in Europe for disin-
fecting purposes, for littering horses,
etc. Indian women use the pure moss
daily, after drying it well, to swaddle
their babies in, and it is reported that
it answers this purpose to perfection.
On the 3rd September we left Grand
Rapids. Two boats or skiffs with our
camp outfit and some provisions were
taken over the tramway to the landing
above the rapids where they were
launched. The ascent of the six miles of
rapids was very laborious. Our boat*
men, who knew the river well, took
advantage of every eddy and every
piece of slack water ; but long stretches
could only be ascended by towing, or
tracking as it is locally termed. One
of the Indians walked along the shore
towing the boat by means of a long
line attached to it, while another sat
in the boat and carefully steered it to
avoid rocks and shoals.
The next day we were windbound
at Cross Lake. With good boats we
might, with great labour, have made
some headway, but we were afraid to
venture on the lake during the high
wind with the ones we had. On the
7th we met the canoe supplied by
the Government for the use of the In-
dian Agent at the "Pas," who had
sent it down for my use ; the two boats
we had were therefore sent back to
Grand Rapids. The change to the
canoe was a welcome one. It was very
large, sailed well, and was safe even in
a stiff breeze.
All the shooting we had up to this
date amounted to about two dozen par-
tridges. I tried to get a shot at a peli-
can, of which there are always a number
at some point in the Grand Rupids, but
did not succeed. On nearing Chima-
wawin, at the head of Cedar Lake,
ducks began to be plentiful, and I shot
several while sitting in the canoe.
The approach to Chimawawin is by
one of the many channels which form
the delta of the Saskatchewan. These
channels are closely flanked with tall
reeds. Here are met the first indica-
tions of the manner in which thousands
of square miles of land in the Saskat-
chewan district have been formed.
The mud and debris brought down
by the river is now being deposited
in and is slowly but surely filling
up Cedar Lake ; at the same time the
continuous scouring of the stream at
the outlet of the lake is slowly lower-
ing the level of the water. Thus, year
by year lands that were once covered
with water slowly become dry.
The flat district, through which the
Saskatchewan River splits into chan-
nels, and large portions of which at
some periods of the year are vast
swamps and marshes, extends from
Cedar Lake westward for about two
hundred miles, and it may roughly be
estimated to have an average width of
one hundred mites. The rivers and
channels throughout the district are
fringed with timber, usually small pop-
lar, but in some stretches spruce, tam-
arac and poplar a foot in diameter are
found. Back from this fringe, which
averages about five chains in width, the
whole country is an open marsh or
prairie. The Indians who inhabit this
district are well named, with reference
to the country they inhabit, the
"Swampy Crees," They bear an ex-
cellent character. I found them to be
earnest, hard-working fellows, always
willing to half-kill themselves in their
endeavours to please, provided always
that they were treated with reasonable
consideration. They never lose their
tempers, and no amount of work, wet,
heat or cold could affect their good
nature or stop the laugh and joke
around the camp fire.
At Chimawawin there is a school
maintained by the Department of In-
dian Affairs, and an Enjjjish Church
mission. The mission was then in
charge of the Rev. Mr. Sinclair, an
Indian. While there we attended the
services, which were conducted almost
entirely in the Cree language. The
Bible, the prayer-book and a book of
hymns have been translated into Cree.
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A TRIP INTO THE SASKATCHEWAN COUNTRY
The hymns are in Cree and written
both in Syllabic characters and
phonetically with the English alphabet.
A very pleasing and impressive cus-
tom of the Indians is that before
retiring for the night one of them offers
up a prayer ; they then all pray together,
generally repeating the Lord's Prayer,
and conclude with singing a hymn — all
in Cree, of course. This happened
every evening ; and when we were
camped far away from any post or In-
dian settlement this simple evening ser-
vice in the solitude and stillness was very
impressive.
The Indians throughout the district
live in small log houses of their own
construction. They are usually about
twelve feet square, well plastered with
clay, and in a few cases whitewashed.
A chimney of clay and stones is built,
usually in the middle of the side oppo-
site the door. The fireplaces are nar-
row and high, so that the wood is
placed in them standing on end instead
of lying flat. A bar of iron is built
into the chimney, to which the pots for
cooking purposes are hung. The ceil-
ings of these houses are very low, and,
in fact, so are nearly all the houses of
the Hudson's Bay Company. I had the
advantage of my assistant in this mat-
ter. As he was six feet four inches
higfh, he could rarely hold his head up
without getting hurt, whereas I, with
my scant five feet six, could boldly
walk into any house without any fear
whatever.
The advance these Indians have
made in civilization, and their peace-
ful and prayerful habits, reflect the
greatest credit on the Hudson's Bay
Company's officers and on the mis-
sionaries who have been among
them. I should add, however, that
they have not learned that cleanliness
is next to godliness, as by far the
greater number of them are extremely
averse to the frequent use of soap and
water. Their improvidence is also de-
plorable. When they have fish they
eat it, not caring whether there is
enough for the morrow or not. Much
less do they make proper provision for
the winter. Similarly when they have
moose-meat, geese or ducks they will
eat unsparingly, and give freely to
neighbours and friends until all is done;
consequently in the winter months,
when hsh are difficult to catch and
game scarce, they frequently suffer
from hunger.
We went up the river from Chima-
wawin about ten miles to a place much
frequented by the Indians for tishing,
and called by them " Poplar Point,"
where we surveyed a small reserve and
returned to Chimawawin. We then
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30
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
immediately left for Moose Lake, where
we were eng^aged for some time.
The Moose Lake Indians were in an
extremely destitute condition. The
children were clothed in rags that were
scarcely any protection against the very
cold weather we had while we were
there.
The land in this district is rocky and
barren, but the water is receding from
large tracts of flat lands, which will
soon become fertile prairies. The
Chief of the band informed me that the
level of the water in the different lakes
is three feet lower than it was thirty
years ago. I was much surprised to
learn that a rough stone hedge on high
and dry land near the Hudson's Bay
Company's post was constructed in the
a survey of a small reserve at Clear
Water Lake, distant about thirty-five
miles. This trip involved two long
portages of eight and four miles respec-
tively. On our return we surveyed
some hay lands near the "Pas" for the
band. We flnished this work late in
October and we still had surveys to
make at three different points on the
Carrot River.
The Carrot River enters the Saskat-
chewan at a short distance from the
"Pas." It drains a large tract along
the base of the Pasquia Hills. At this
time of the year the water in long
stretches of the river was very low, so
that it would have been a very labor-
ious affair to ascend the river with even
small canoes, besides it was so late in
ncA-a- pp Pr>d- v>^> AC"D rv-^rbu
PA-^A- ACTi i>np" <4>pnV'^rqA->bAr-
Q-DCbA--^' Pr-'d^ACU Vdr^ Ar^ <3-PC-br
<iJ3- bPr^b* RQ_; [r<ST^= bcrrd-ra
Syllobic wrihinpuaed by hhe CrC€B.
water as a pier, and was used for many
years for landing purposes.
We again returned to Chimawawin
in order to proceed to the " Pas." On
the way up we shot a number of geese,
ducks and snipe from our canoe and
without turning out of our course. At
the "Pas" the Saskatchewan River
has cut or passed through a high
ridge which at one time must have
been the retaining wall of an immense
lake. The Hudson's Bay Company has
an important post here ; the Roman
Catholic Church and the Christian
Brethren have missions, and a neat
English church and rectory are promi-
nent buildings in the little village.
After the usual pow-wow with the
Chief and Councillors we left to make
the fall that we would certainly have
been frozen in and would then be
obliged to abandon our canoes. 1
therefore decided to wait at the " Pas"
until the ice in the river was safe, which
did not take place until the i6th Nov.
While waiting at the "Pas" for the
ice to take, we frequently went shoot-
ing prairie chickens and always met
with fair success. Once we went a
long distance from the "Pas" to try
to get some geese and another time to
have a shot or two at ducks, but with
no success at all. The birds were then
congregating for theirflight to the south
and were very wary.
The rapidity with which our Indians
would pluck, clean and cook eight or
ten ducks for lunch was simply admir-
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A TRIP INTO THE SASKATCHEWAN COUNTRY
able. Of course, we had to shut our
eyes and not be at all particular in the
matter of dirt. I think in the healthy,
out-of'door, camp-life one soon becomes
convinced that his digestive apparatus
can attack successfully any quanity of
foreign matter that may have become
incorporated with the food while it is
being prepared.
I had half-a-dozen rough toboggans
made at the " Pas" and all my party
except mysell hauled a well-loaded to-
boggan up the Carrot River. The first
day we had glare ice but made excellent
progress as we had provided ourselves
with ice-creepers. These were very
sufficient food for themselves or they
would entail a considerable expendi-
ture if fed with rabbits.
We duly completed the surveys at
the above mentioned places. Long be-
fore arriving at Red Earth we had
made inquiries as to what means could
be had to enable us to get out by way
of Fort a la Corne and had been in-
formed that there were ponies at Red
Earth, but that practically there was no
trail from Red Earth to Fort a la Corne
and only at rare intervals had any one
made the trip. This proved to be cor-
rect. Only two ponies could be had
and only one man knew the route.
simply made with a punch and some
hoop iron which we obtained from some
old barrels at the Hudson Bay Com-
pany's post.
At one time I had almost decided to
move with dog trains instead of hand
toboggans, but dogs require to be fed
from one to three fish per day, accord-
ing to their size, or an equivalent in
rabbits. No fish were to be had at
Salt Channel and very few at Shoal
L.ake or Red Earth, and considering
hoiv long the dogs would be idle at
each place while we were making the
surveys, it is evident that they would
be unable to haul much more than
This man was known as Mackay Meg-
uanakiscum, a son of the old Council-
lor and Chief of the band, Meguana-
kiscum, who also owned the ponies.
I made an invariable rule to employ
the Chief and Councillors of each band
to assist in making the surveys for
their respective bands. The old Coun-
cillor Meguanakiscum especially engag-
ed my attention by his very respectable
appearance and by his quiet, earnest
and unassuming manner. This man
and all his band are pagans. I tried
to ascertain what their peculiar belief
might be, but all I learned was that
they believed in a Great Spirit who was
Digitized by Google
THE CANADIAM MAGAZINE
over all; in a wicked spirit, in the re-
ward of the good after death and in
the punishment of evil-doers.
We left Red Earth on the fifteenth
of December for the six days' tramp to
Fort A La Come, a distance of about
130 miles. The two ponies pulled to-
boggans which, although lightly loaded
with our baggage and provisions, were
too heavily loaded for the trail they
had to go over. My party now con-
sisted of my assistant, the cook Bap-
1 have not the slightest doubt the good
old man was commending me to the
care of the Great Spirit.
Whoever thinks that a six days'
tramp in winter across the country with
the snow about a foot deep, over fallen
timber and through thickets and camp-
ing without tents (for we left our tents
at Red Earth) is fun, has notions of
such work very different from mine.
The first day or two passes very well,
but towards the end the tramp gets
tiste Buck, Mackay Meguanaktscum
and myself. As this trip was one of
considerable importance in the opinion
of these Indians, the old Councillor
came out about a mile on our way to
bid us good-bye. He had a long and
earnest talk with Baptists and his son
Mackay, bade good-bye to my assist-
ant and then gave me the benefit of
quite an oration, which being in Cree
I could not understand. During the
■oration he frequently pointed upwards;
very wearisome and monotonous. The
ponies for the first day or two went
ahead with a will ; they would go over
everything or through everything in the
shape of down timber, brush or thick-
ets, and where they went the tobog-
gans had to follow with many a bump
and upset. These little animals— they
were scarcely bigger than large Shet-
land ponies — had nothing to eat but
the grass they could get at night by
pawing away the snow. Nothing else
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A TRIP INTO THE SASKATCHEWAN COUNTRY
3.1
could be obtained for them. The un-
wonted work and hard fare soon told
on them. On the fourth day they were
very tired animals, and on the evening
of the sixth, when we were still fifteen
miles from La Corne, they were so tired
as to be scarcely able to move. They
had worked faithfully and well without
having once required the whip.
Mackav pointed to his animals, mak-
ing signs that we must camp as they
could go no farther. With the aid of
a small Cree vocabulary we managed
to make Mackay understand that it
was important to push on to La Corne
that night in order to obtain fresh
horses with which to reach Prince
Albert in time to catch the train for the
on the route. This gentleman pro-
cured us horses and a sleigh and at
noon we left for Prince Albert, dis-
tant about fifty miles. We had to
change horses midway and arrived at
Prince Albert a couple ot hours before
the train left. At La Corne I paid olf
and bade good-bye to Baptiste and
Mackay who, after a rest of two days,
returned with the ponies to Red Earth.
I was anxious to pay a visit to a
barber as soon as possible as my hair
had not been cut for four months, but
as we arrived at Prince Albert at z a.m.
and left at 4 a. m. , there was no oppor-
tunity there. My long hair, tuque, moc-
casins and generally rough appearance
brought me many a stare on the cars
South the next day, and that we would
require to rest several hours and then
push on again. Baptiste and Mackay
made several signs to uswhich we could
not understand; however, after a good
supper, and three hours of rest, we saw
what they meant. Very much to our
surprisie they lightened the toboggans
by each taking a heavy pack on his own
back. The ponies were thus enabled
to make good headway and we duly
arrived at La Corne that night.
W^e there received the same kind
welcome and attention from the Hud-
son Bay Company's Agent that we had
invariably received from the Hudson
Bay Company's Agents at evey post
from Prince Albert to Winnipeg, which
was quite disconcerting to a man of my
modest temperament. Immediately on
my arrival at Winnipeg I paid the con-
templated visit to the barber. This,
with a fur cap instead of a tuque, boots
Instead of moccasins and a fresh over-
coat instead of the camp-stained one I
had been wearing made quite a differ-
ence in my outward man. The next
morning the guard of the Manitoba
House shouted as usual, "All aboard
going east," and kept looking around
for some one. Suddenly he recognized
me, saying, " Well, Sir, I did not know
you at all ; the clerk told me the same
gentleman would leave to-day
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34
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
came yesterday, and i am looking' for
him." No wonder he did not recog-
nize me. The somewhat civilized being
he now saw was not a bit like the rough
hairy individual he had seen arrive the
day before.
On my arrival at Ottawa I found
that my friends had not heard from me
for three months, and fears were enter-
tained for my safety. I had frequently
sent letters by chance messenger:* to
Cumberland House, where there is a
monthly mall service. These letters
arrived in Ottawa two weeks after my
return, and a budget of letters that I
would have been very g'lad to have re-
ceived while I was in the wilderness
duly followed me back and came to
hand some time after my return.
LITERATURE.
YOUR asking me to respond to the
toast of Literature, brings to my
mind a story that is going the rounds
in I-ondon.
A party of Jews were discussing* lit-
erature. One of them remarked that
Zangwill was clever — very clever.
" Zangwill clever ? " objected an-
other of the party ; "he's not clever —
that is nothing, his writing about the
Jews. He knoirs us, for he is a Jew
himself. Why should he not write
about u.sP But look at Baringf Gould.
He knows nothing about us, and see
how much he writes about us. That is
clever, if you like."
So you have probably honoured me
with this oilice much upon the prin-
ciple that 1 shall emulate Baring Gould.
«
About literature I know very little
— in fact I'm almost inclined to quar-
rel with the very word literature it-
self. If I could find a strong Saxon
word to replace it I would never use it
at all. Literature, as a generic term
for the concrete thoughts of men done
into the cold, unsympathetic world of
black and white, has much too soft a
ring. It is suggestive of dilettanteism,
of Lake Como in everlasting sunshine.
It is trippingly sweet. We speak
glibly of literature, and feel, somehow,
as though we had given our boots an
extra rub with the brush of fine culture.
What we need here in Canada, and,
for the matter of that, wherever the
elongated, crimson -dotted postage
stamp goes, is a literature that abounds
in stories of strong, true, beautiful
deeds. But above all else we must
have Truth. We are strong, rugged
people. Our country is great in its
God-given strength — its masculine
beauty. Canada is one of Mother
Earth's bravest, sturdiest sons. Even
our climate is boisterous and strength-
producing. Strength begets Truth,
and Truth makes Strength God-like.
•
It is almost impossible to separate
the idea of Truth and Strength. The
student who enters the university
of literature should behold in large
letters of gold the twin words, "Truth"
and '* Strength." The original people
of this land, stretching from ocean to
ocean as it does, had truth, and sim-
plicity, and strength. I will touch on
what literature has done for them later
on. Our poets must be strong and
truthful — rather than giving all their
thoughts to finish and light- tripping
metre. If we may hope for a Cana-
dian Bobbie Burns, the man with the
God-gift of song born in him, we must
teach our children to live close to
Nature, and never shake off her sim-
plicity. And our prose writers, our
story-tellers must go armed in Truth
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LITER A TURE
35
and Strength if they would scale the
cold glacier of criticism. Our news-
paper writers and editors, for in their
hands is more of literature and the
making' of literature than the people
whu talk so smoothly about it would
have us believe, stand in Canada far in
the vanguard of Truth and Strength.
Their work is clean and wholesome
and virile.
To-day the Canadian press has
nothing to fear from comparison with
the whole world. Canadian papers
are a credit to this strong. God-fearing
land of unfettered expression. I, for
one, do not want to know of all the
shame, and misery and crime, real and
imaginary, that is in the world. I
haven't time to go into it. My moral
nature needs healthier food; and my
family, young and ready for impres-
sions, cannot wade through chronicles
of violence and infamy day after day,
and still believe in the good of human-
ity. From the one or two Canadian
papers that come into my hands I get
all the really great things that are
happening in the world, and 1 escape
the fil^h. This may be lack of enter-
prise, but I am content.
Good as our papers are, we should
go further — we should foster a litera-
ture that will be placed on our shelves,
and which will hand down to posterity
the good and true things this young
generation is doing, and their fore-
Others did before them. We have one
magazine that, equally with our papers,
is a credit to Canada. That Canada
gives it the support it should have and
is entitled to, I do not believe. If it
does not come up to the mark of the
high-priced United States magazines,
shall we buy the New York magazine
only and let our own young literature
die? Shall we let our churches go unsup-
ported because Talmage is in New
York — because he is stronger than our
local man? With all respect to the
cloth, we need them no more than
we need a healthy literature.
•
So far literature has done little for
Canada. She is the "Lady of the
Snows," the abode of wicked French
priests, who are only kept from ruining
everybody by the gallantry of the hero.
I have seen some of these French
priests, and never saw but good of
their work. In the far North-west a
good French priest, Father Lacomb,
has laboured among the Indians, as
though they were his own children, for
a lifetime. A sweet-faced old gentle-
man he is now, and all he has for his
long life of hardship and exposure is
the knowledge that he has tried to do
his Master's bidding. I think he has
done it. But literature passes him by,
and builds a romance in which the cen-
tral figure is a wicked priest.
Tbegreat Northwest is a land of bliz-
zards, peopled by bad Indians. I want-
ed to do some blizzard literature myself,
and started to get the genesis of those
frozen siroccos. I asked people about
them, and 1 wrote to people about
them. I found only one man who had
been in a true blizzard, and he was too
badly frightened to remember anything
about the physical aspect of the thing.
It was like a hunt for the sea serpent.
They are as rare as literature has
taught us they are plentiful.
«
What we want is realism, a modern
realism that will let the world see us
as we are — a strong, healthy, growing
nation ; full of life, and aspirations, and
determination : and through it all you
may weave the golden thread of love
if you like, for all that is founded on
love is good and true. The literature
of Christ was all love.
Let us have a literature that will
deal with the problems of life as it is,
not of a life that is dead and obsolete
and of which no man may speak with
certainty, a literature that will bring
the classes to a better understanding
of each other and each other's needs —
not that will bring them together, for
that is an Utopian realization that
would only bring disaster; rather that
will keep them lovingly apart; teach
them not to plot against each other,
not to hate each other, but to know
that each one in his allotted place is the
order of the universe.
Much literature to>day pictures the
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36
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
employer as a grasping;, avaricious,
siave-driving demon. An employer of
this order is a good substantial rib in
the structure of a modern novel. On
the other hand, ail the employees are
ready for revolt, for almost any crime,
incapable of good. Then one day we
read in a paper of an engineer on some
railroad giving his life for the people
placed in his hands. A captain and a
crew (if they are British or American)
cheerfully %o to their death that the
women and children may be saved.
We read that in the newspapers ; so it
is not literature, and is soon forgotten.
The books with the other in, the false
literature, lie on our tables, and are on
the shelves of our libraries. We cher-
ish them, and the newspaper is thrown
in the waste basket. Let us trans-
plant this spirit of truth from our
newspapers to our fiction, and we
shall have a fiction that is true. If
our young writers would try to give us
stories dealing with the problems and
trials and mysticisms of the life all
about us, they would do more to build
up a national literature than they ever
will by posing over the more or less in-
accurate records of the life that is ex-
tinct.
«
We have a great field for our story
writers and poets In the Northwest.
There is local colour in abundance,
and the colour of God, which is the
beauty of the universe. I have been
in many parts of the world, the Orient
and the Occident; I have seen beauti-
ful places and magnificent parks ; grand
gardens and noble avenues ; but let me
tell you, gentlemen, that the most
beautiful spot on this round earth is
the valley ot the Northern Saskatche-
wan, in this strong, rugged country
that stands as a rampart between the
Atlantic and Pacific. Go there, gentle-
men, in August and September, and
you will see God's own garden stretch-
ing mile on mile, from silver stream to
the eternal blue of the distant "Rock-
ies."
Crimson, and gold, and azure ; and
the soft, pearly greys of delicate
grasses, and shrubs, that carpet the
black mould until you sink knee deep
in a wealth of trailing, purple-tipped
pea-vine, and pink flesh-coloured cas>
tillja. And not one blade of all this
splendour was sown or planted by the
hand of man ; not one design in the
whole vast park laid out by human gar-
dener. There you will be face to face
with the beauties of God's gifts, and no
warning to "keep off the grass." You
may roll down those jewelled hills, all
set with ruby, and amethyst, and pearl
flowers, like a boy. And as you roll
there will be in the air the whittle of
crescent wings, as the grouse and par-
tridge cut through the warm sunshine,
startled by the queer, hobgoblin ap-
If our young writers wish for a true
literature, let them go there, out into
the open, into the university of God,
even as Moses did for forty years. Be-
side all this splendour, of which 1 can
give you little conception, the magnifi-
cence of Solomon was poor and taw-
dry indeed. Even the lilies were ar-
rayed in greater glory than he.
•
And of the people in that land, what
has literature taught us? Do we know
the Indian P I fear not. We know
that he has forever and ever prowled
about with scalping knife in hand, and
heart set on murder. But we do not
know that be is far more truthful than
the white man ; that you may leave
your shack door open, not unlocked
alone but wide open, and all that an
Indian loves hanging about within
reach, and you will find it all there
when you return one month, or six;
from that date — that is, unless there
have been white men about P And
there was morality with them. A nose-
less woman now and then bore testi-
mony to the fact that violation of the
seventh commandment met with swift
punishment And who shall describe
the love of these people for their chil-
dren ? Their grief over the death of a
child was terribly tragic in its intens-
ity. Women took sharp flints and
scored deep gashes in their limbs to
dull the pain tugging at their heart-
strings.
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UTERATURE
37
And the wonder of it is that there is
any honesty or truth left amongf them,
because of their treatment by the
higher civilized Pale-face.
«
As long: as a Scotchman breathes,
(and while air is as cheap as it is, that
will be a long: time, ) the name of Burns
will ling'er. i might even add, after that
also — for there will always be Scotch-
men— they are the chosen people. This
is because, as everyone knows, his
literature was of the heart, and the
soul of things — simple and close to
nature — therefore close to the hearts of
his countrymen. Blinded by a false
conception of the meaning of literature,
his worth and truth were not known
as they should have been, until it was
too late But for the posterity that has
taken Shakespeare, and Goethe, and
Burns to its heart, it is never too late.
That is also the literature we need
here — the literature that Louis Kossuth,
the Hungarian, went to for his match-
less English eloquence — the Bible and
Shakespeare. If a man reads these
two books, and Bums, and Scott, and
Kipling, and cannot write that which is
good afier, he had better get into the
literary senate at once.
«
Now every writing has two distinct
values — -the immediate, or cash value,
which is always smalt, because of the
rapacity of editors, and the future, or
reputation -bull ding value.
As soon as a tale is printed, it begins
to earn for the writer something — the
character of that something will de-
pend upon the amount of ability, and
truthful, honest work the author has
put into it. The prospective value is by
far the greater to the young writer, and
should be kept severely in view.
1 admitit is difficult to keep the mind
6rmly fixed on a crown of laurel in a
matter of forty years, while tlie stom-
ach is clamouring for a present instal-
ment of beans, or cabbage or anything
nice and warm and filling. But there
is little hope unless the laurel can be
kept somewhere in the corner of the
eye. It does not much matter whether
the talc be sad or gay, for there is
much sweet sadness in life, so long as
it be wholly truthful and of use, the
workmanship the best the author can
give.
V
This spirit of truth and strength
breathes throughout the work of the
present master of fiction, Kipling.
Shall we shrink from his writing be-
cause of the almost barbaric fidelity to
truth which is true? Then shall we
shrink from the Bible, and ask for a
more genteel book to mould our lives
upon. Truth may jar sometimes, but
the fault is ours, not truth's. It is
this sublime fealty to truth which has
made Kiplingthe greatest living writer.
And, in a lesser degree, we have an
immediate proof of this in the splendid
book Steevens has given us, called,
" With Kitchener to Khartum." Kip-
ling's work has made the writing of
this book possible — and profitable.
And if we hark back along this line of
truth — or realism — healthy realism, we
shall presently come to Dickens. He
was the father of this good school that
is breathing of health to-day.
But to return to Steevens* book, for
I wish to speak a little of it. In it we
find passages that make men bless the
land of their nativity ; thank God
that they, too, are Britons, as they
read. !s that not good literature ?
Yes, it is. But it is not smothered in
fine writing.
And of the Arabs he speaks with
fine admiration. One picture I remem-
ber. The rifles and quiclc-firing ma-
chine guns of the white troops had
mowed down three thousand of the
desert-dwellers as they charged the
British lines. At last there were but
three Arabs living. These still stuck
to the colours, and advanced against
the whole European force. The guns
belched forth again, and but one was
left. He raised his spear on high, and,
shouting " Allah ! Allah ! " charged as
though he had ten thousand men at his
back.
That is what we want in our litera-
ture— more simplicity and faith. More
"Allah! Allah!"
Digitized byGoOgIC
A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES.
A Romance in Twelve Chapters.
BY JOANNA B. WOOD, AUTHOR OF "THE UNTEMPERED WIND". "JUDITH MOORE", ETC
Digest op Prbvious Chapters. — Sidney Manin, a youngs Bastonia.n, is visiting the
Lanaing farm. Mr. Lansing is a widower, bul has living with him his daughter Vashti and
his niece Mabella, two very charming maidens. Lansing Lansing, a cousin of both these giHs,
is in love with sweet, honest Mabclta ; while Sidney hecomcs enamoured of the proud, stately
Vashti. But Vashli is in love with her cousin Lansing, or " Lanty," as he is called, and she is
deadly jealous of Mabella's happiness. In this state of mind she accepts Sidney's attentions,
and ultimaleiy decides to marry him. The following chapter turns on the action of Sidney in
leading her, for the Riial act in this curious courtship, to the Mullein meadow where a few days
before he had overhead Lanlj' tell Mabella of his love. The place was accursed In the eyes of
Vashti, for it was there that she had lost the man in whom her affections were reaJly centred.
CHAPTER VIL
THE ^rey of twilight was paling the
gold of the after-glow. A quiet
hush had fallen upon the earth — rather
intensified than disturbed by the lowing
of far-away cattle. It was the quiet of
raptured atitici patio n, as if great hands
held the earth up to the baptismal foot
of the heavens to receive the chrism of
night ; and the earth, like a wise and
reverent child, waited with hushed
heart-beats for the benediction.
Sidney Martin waited in the porch
for Vashti to keep her tryst, and pre*
sently he heard her footsteps. The
echo of each step gathered in his heart,
dilating it with happiness as an already
full glass is brimmed above the brink
by drop after drop. From his position,
where he stood spellbound, he com-
manded an angled vista of the stairs,
and slowly she descended within his
range of vision ; first the beautitui foot,
proportioned so perfectly to the body
it bore, then the long exquisite lines
from heel to hip, and the yet more ex-
quisite curve from hip to shoulder, and
the melting graduation of breast to
throat, and then the perfect face of her.
She paused for a moment upon the last
step, as if loath to step out of her pure
rarefied atmosphere of maidenhood
into the air vibrant with the sobs and
sighs, the hopes and despairs, the gains
and losses of hutnan life ; and stand-
ing thus, for one fleeting second there
rose before Vashti a vision of renuncia-
tion. She saw herself, lonely but clad
in righteousness going on her way;
but the next instant the austere dream
vanished, brushed aside by a hateful,
sneering cynicism. With a heart full
of self-mockery, more evil than her
evil intent, Vashti took the step to
Sidney's side, and stood there the typi*
iication, as he thought, of gentle dig-
nity and dignified womanhood.
" How good you are," he said gen-
tly.
They took the way almost in silence.
She wondered vaguely where he would
take her, to the far-away pastures, the
little knolls nestling upon the hills
which he loved, or to the oak trees
where they had talked in the morniag.
When they reached the road she sub-
mitted her steps to his guidance wilb
outward meekness and inward indiffer-
ence. He turned away from Dole. It
was to be the far-away pastures then —
as well there as anywhere. But he had
passed the gate ! And then it dawned
upon her. He was taking her to Mul-
lein meadow !
Her indifference fell from her like a
rent garment, bitter remembrance tore
at her heart. How dare he bring her
here and bid her masquerade amid these
grey boulders where she had known
such agony I She imagined those im-
placable rocks rejoicing in her humilia-
tion. Were not her own curses yet
hissing across the eerie barrenness of
this wide waste field? Ah, even so
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
39
Vashti — if our curses do not seek us
out we ourselves return to their realm;
there is great affinity between a curse
and the lips which utter it. The flame
of her resentment fluttered to her
cheeks g'iving' them an unwonted touch
of rose. As they reached the entrance
to Mullein meadow, she half stumbled,
she recovered herself quickly, Sidney's
swift touch being hardly needed to re-
store her poise.
To Sidney, her silence, the strange,
sweet colour in her cheeks, her uncer-
tain step, pointed but to one thing —
the natural agitation of a girl about to
have a man's love laid at her feet.
Surely never man was so exquisitely
befooled as this one P
He took the path straight for the
little spot where that happy betrothal
had taken place. Vashti hesitated —
this was too much.
" 1= — ," she opened her lips to speak,
but the words died away, unmerciful re-
solution freezing them at their source.
"Come," urged Sidney with tender
iasisteace, and with an appearance of
sweet submission she yielded, und at
length they stood where those oihers
had stood. The same grey sky bent
above them, the same quiet hush brood-
ed over the desolate reaches, the same
clear star hung scintillant in the sky,
and Sidney, taking her hands, which
trembled by reason of the terrible re-
straint she was putting upon her anger,
began to speak — very gently, but with
an intensity which made his words in-
stinct with life and love.
"You know," he said, " why ! have
asked you to come out to-night, but
you cannot know why I have brought
you here to this spot ? It is because it
is a place of happy auguries. Here,
not knowing whither I strayed I came
upon the betrothal of Lanty and Ma-
bella. Here, heartsick with envy of
their happiness I turned away to face
the desolate greyness of the twilight.
Here I saw a star, one lone star in the
grey, which seemed to promise hope,
and in my heart 1 named it Vashti.
See -there it is, but more golden now,
more full of beneficent promise, bur-
dened, as it seems to me, with gracious
benediction. Oh, Vashti, when I left
those two in the solitude of their hap-
piness you cannot dream how my heart
cried for you. All the way home na-
ture's voices whispered in my ear
"Vashti — Vashti," and my heart re-
sponded "Vashti," and it seemed to
me there was no other word in all the
universe, for in it were bound all mean-
ings. It seemed to me there was no
other idea worth comprehending but
the identity behind that word. Vashti
say that you love me — that you will
marry me. Here, where my heart
knew its bitterest longing, satisfy it
with one syllable of your voice. Let
me also build tabernacles here as the
holy place where happiness descended
upon me ;" he let fall her hands.
"Vashti, you know that 1 love you;
give me your hands in symbol of your-
self as a free gift."
He held out his hands. Slowly,
gently, trustingly, as a woman who
knows well what she does, and will
abide by it, Vashti Lansing laid her
hands in his. His vibrant, slender
fingers closed upon them. There was
an instant's pause
"You love me!" he cried, as one, after
a long novitiate, might hail the goddess
unveiled at last. Then drawing her to
him he ki.ssed her on the mouth, and
from that moment was hers — body —
and yet more terrible bondage~~mind ;
and she, with an astute a^d evil wis-
dom, forebore to make any conditions,
any demands, till he had tasted the
sweets of her acquiescence.
Would any man give her up, having
held her in his arms, having touched
her lips? With shameless candour she
told herself. No. So she rested her
head upon his shoulder, whilst he whis-
pered in her ear the divine incoheren-
cies of love, and intoxicated with the
charm of the woman in his arms,
touched the white throat by the ear
where a curl of dark hair coiled like a
soft, sweet shadow. A long, con-
tented, yet questioning sigh came to
him—
"Tell me?" he said.
"You will let me live always in
Dole?" she said.
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40
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
" Always — always, dear one ! In
Dole or anywhere else you like."
" Ah ! " she said in a tooe of dreamy
happiness — "you will take old Mr.
Didymus's place ; we will live in the
parsonage ; what a happy life we will
have t "
" Vashti!" said Sidney, almost reel-
ing before the shock of her words. As
a beautiful white mist rolls back to
show some scene of sordid miserj', so
the glamour of the last few weeks lift-
ed, and displayed vividly to Sidney all
the awkwardness of the position
which he had created for himself.
Ever since that day, when stung by
Sally's impertinent words he had agon-
ized alone upon the hillside, nothing
whatever had transpired to awaken
its memory. A deference rather more
pronounced than necessary upon the
part of the village-folk, a certain con-
straint upon the part of the young
men had been the only visible signs
that Dole remembered. But upon :he
other hand nothing had occurred which
gave him the opportunity of explain-
ing to Vashti, nor, indeed, had he
ever been able to decide how he could
explain to her, even if given the open-
ing. He had gone to church with the
Lansings Sunday after Sunday. Under
the circumstances any other course
would have been an insult to the rigitne
of the house in which he was staying.
He had found nothing in the little
churchwhichjarred upon his tastesor re-
volted his principles. The simple, pious
sermons of gray-haired Mr. Didymus
were entirely inoffensive toanyonenotof
nuiitce prepense irritable. The sad ex-
periences of his long life had mitigated
his judgments. The man who in his
fiery youth scoffed at death-bed re-
pentances now spoke feelingly of the
thief on the cross ; the elect murmured
among themselves that Mr. Didymus
was " growin' old and slack." Cer-
tainly his sermons were not learned,
but neither were they devoid of a cer-
tain eloquence, for the old man knew
his Bible by heart, and above all they
were free from the anecdotal inanity ;
it would never have occurred to the
old, plain-spoken man to stand in his
pulpit telling his people tales suitable
for the comprehension of three-year-
old children. There was, perhaps, the
merest trace of asceticism in Sidney
Martin's nature, and the simple doc-
trine of these people, their fatalistic
creed, their bare little church, appealed
to him as no gorgeous ritual or ornate
sanctuary could have done. The
hoarse, uniuneful singing of these
country folk, taking no shame of
their poor performance, so that it was
in praise of God, stirred his spiritual
sympathies more profoundly than any
cathedral organ — yet — he was a crea-
ture of reason, and he had always con-
sidered the Catholic Church more logi-
cal than any other, and above all, he
had no belief whatever in the Christian
doctrine. Ruled by a pure and lofty
ideal of Truth, his life had been ideally
good. His lofty aspirations did not
lift him beyond sympathy with his fel-
lows, only above their vileness. He
adored nature with an almost heathen-
ish idolatry, and had such reverence
for her slightest manifestation, that he
never willingly broke a leaf or crushed
an insect. Literally, he worshipped
the works, but not the Creator. And
lo ! — here was the woman round whom
his very soul twined, taking it for
granted that he believed all she did,
and that his life could compass no
higher happiness than to preach this
belief to others ; and what excellent
grounds he had given her for thinking
thus ! All these things mirrored them-
selves in his mind in an instant, then
he said :
" But Vashti, 1 have no need to do
anything. There are many worthier
men than I to fill Mr. Didymus's
place. I am not a preacher, you
know."
"Oh, but you will be for my sake,"
she said, and laid her head down again
upon his shoulder like a child who has
found rest.
Truly there are more tempting dev-
ils than the urbane gentleman of the
cloven hoofs.
" What had you meant to do ? " she
asked.
" Indeed, 1 had mapped out no defi-
Digilized by Google
A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
nite course," he answered. ," My
mother's money makes life easy for me,
you know, but I had meant to do
something, certainly. Only 1 was tak-
ing- my time looking about. I didn't
want to do anything which would cut
some fellow who needed it out of a liv-
ing."
" Let me decide for you," she mur-
mured ; the breath of the words was
warm on his ear. "Think how happy
you could make us all. They all think
so much of you in Dole on account of
your prayer, Mary Shinar says you
are a saint." Then, her arms stealing
about his neck, she added, "Sidney,
for my sake you said you would
sacrifice anything. I didn't think this
would be a sacrifice. I thought it
would be a delight ; but if it is a sac-
rifice make it for my sake."
Alas he had fallen among the toils !
He took swift illogical thought with
himself. He would preach to them a
pure and exalted morality. He would
be the apostle of nature's pure creed.
He would make Dole a proverb In all
New England. He would teach, he
would have a library, he would marry
Vashti.
Glamoured by his love and his soph-
istry, his judgment, his sense of right
and wrong failed him. Sidney caught
his Delilah to his heart,
" It shall be as you wish, my sweet,"
he said; "and now tell me you love
me."
"I love you," she said, repressing
the triumph in her voice. " I love you
and I am proud of you," she said again,
holding her head high. If she had
lost much in Mullein meadow she had
also gained a triumph there.
The short American twilight was
darkening to night. The weird old
Wulders sentinelled round them might
have been a druidical circle, and she
the priestess fulfilling the rites. Nor
was the victim wanting ; only instead
of slaying the body with a golden knife
she had killed the soul with silvery
speech.
"Ah," said Sidney as they turned to
thread their way out of Mullein mea-
dow, " surely this place is holy."
She paused, looking at him — " Do
you not think that suffering sanctifies
more than joy?" she asked.
"No, not such joy as ours, as
Lanty's and Mabella's."
" I don't know," she said.
" But I'm sure of it!" he answered;
then with a lover's fantastical fondness
he went on, "I would not be surprised
if when we visited this spot again we
found it hedged in by lilies, tall white
eucharist lilies, set to keep others
from straying into consecrated ground."
" Sidney," she said, "promise that
you will never, never ask me to come
here again — it is too sacred."
He was deeply touched by her deli-
cate, sensitive thought.
"Dear heart," he said, "never; yet
do not the most reverent lips approach
the sijcramental cup more than once?"
" You will make a capital preacher,"
she said, "but you must not persuade
people to do things against their con-
science."
" Vou shall do as you like always."
They were on the highway by this
time; a waggon overtook them, and
then went on at a foot pace just in ad-
Vashti seemed to walk with inten-
tional swiftness.
"Vashti," he whispered, "don't
walk so fast. Let those people get out
of sight."
" We must ^o on," she said.
Sidney thought this touch of shyness
adorable in her who was so self-poised,
yet he protested with zeal. Do men
always try to destroy what they ad-
mire?
Suddenly Vashti bethought herself
that an extra rivet was never amiss
when one wanted bonds to hold, so
with a sigh as of timorous yielding,
she gave him her lips again in the
shadow of the porch, and left him with
a glory of happiness bedimmtng his
mental vision.
The house was dim-lit and silent.
After the labours of threshing-day
every one was worn out. Lights glim-
mered in the bedrooms but the living
rooms were dark.
Sidney '•aced up and down the little
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garden path for long, feeling- " caught
up to heaven, yet strangely knit to
earth."
Vashti sought her room, and pulling
up the blind looked out where Mullein
meadow lay.
"A holy place!" she said to herself,
"I wish t could pile the fire to burn all
threeof them. *A tabernacle,' he said;
I wish I might build me an altar there
and slay them on it! I don't think
even an angel would stay my hand. 'A
sacrament;' 1 wish I had the filling of
their cups, wormwood should they
drink and the waters of Marah down
to the very dregs — all three !"
Her nostrils dilated like a brute's
upon traces of the prey. In the breast
of such a woman love denied turns to
gall. She paced up and down, up and
down — her rage lent expression in gro-
tesque gestures and evil words, words
which with Vashti Lansing's teaching
and training she was superbly brave to
use. It grew very late; her eyes were
almost wild. She took the guttering
candle in one hand and crept along the
passage to Mabella's room. She opened
the door and went in. Mabella lay
asleep, her candid face budding from
the prim little frill like a flower from
its calyx, Vashti bent above her a hag-
gard and violent face distorted by pas-
sion. Her eyes blazed; her lips drawn
tensely back showed the strong white
teeth. She leaned over the sleeper,
her strong fingers closing and unclos-
ing; a long tress of her hair fell across
her shoulder suddenly and touched the
dreamer's cheek — Mabella stirred, rais-
ed her hand half way to her cheek,
murmured with a tittle happy smile —
"Lanty — Lan — " her voice died away;
her soft regular breathing continued
unbroken. At the sound of that name
uttered thus a dreadful purpose lighted
Vashti's eyes. The fingers of her
strong hand opened wide and advanced
themselves toward the white throat
which pulsed upon the pillow; at that
moment the guttering candle fell over.
Its burning wick and melted grease
struck the hand which held it, Vashti
instinctively uttered a smothered cry
and jerked her hand; the light went
out. Mabella stirred ; Vashti sped to
her room and got the door closed just
as Temperance came to her door and
said,
" Did any one call?"
There was no response.
"Are you all right, Mabella?" she
said going across the hall to Mabella's
door.
"Ves," said Mabella sleepily. "I
think 1 knocked something over with
my elbow and the noise woke me up."
"Are you all right, Vashti?"
"Yes, what is it?" answered Vashti.
" Nothin'— thought I heard a noise."
For hours Vashti Lansing lay and
trembled with the only fear she knew ;
the fear of herself. How near she had
been to terrible crime, only she and
Omnipotence could know. She reflect-
ed upon consequences and told herself
that never again would she give herself
such an opportunity. At last she sank
to rest, to be tormented till dawn by
a strange vision.
It seemed to her she stood again in
Mullein meadow, within the circle of
boulders, and that slowly, slowly they
closed in upon her ; closer and closer
they came, narrowing about her with
gradual but horrible certainty, and
at last they touched her and held
her tight, shackling her hand and
foot so that she could not move
a muscle, but they did' not hill
her J and whilst she was thus held
all Dole defiled before her ; the vil-
lagers pointed at her with scornful
fingers and passed^whispering on; her
mother, who had been long dead, pass-
ed with her father, but they did not look
at her, nor seem to know she was there,
nor did old Mr. and Mrs. Didymus who
presently joined her father and mother.
Then the scene grew brighter and she
saw Temperance and Nathan together ;
they shook their heads, looking at her
sadly but coldly ; then a sweeter
radiance flooded the view upon which
she looked, and Mabella and Lanty
with little children about them drew
nigh her, and they spoke kindly words
to her, and put a shade over her head
to keep off the sun's heat, and raised a
cup to her tips, and one of their child-
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
43
ren came and held up a child's hap-
hazard bouquet to her nostrils that she
might smell the flowers. She tried to
repulse these kindnesses ; she tried to
drive Mabella and Lanty away with evil
words, but the stones pressed too
tig'htly upon her to admit of speech,
and while she writhed thus impotently,
she looked far away where one wander-
ed alone ; there were butterflies and
birds about him, and flowers springing
about his feet, and he wore a look of
calm ineffable happiness, and, yet, it
was not the same happiness as shone
upon the faces of Lanty and Mabella
which lighted the eyes of this visioned
Sidney. But in her dream Vashti did
not dwell long upon this, her thoughts
reverting to the paralyzing prison
which encompassed her ; and she
fought, and struggled, and strove, yet
could not move those terrible stones,
and casting her eyes down upon her-
self, it gradually dawned upon her that
she could not even stru^le. The
terrible wrenches and efforts she had
made were but imaginary, so tightly
was she held that she could not so much
as twitch a flnger. Thus the hours
passed with her.
Mabella slept sweetly and health-
hilly, so rapt in love that even the bale-
ful influence bending over her so ter-
ribly in the night had had no power to
disturb her rest, although the gaze of
even a friendly pair of eyes so often
murders sleep. Sidney slept also and
high above the pale wastes of Mullein
meadow, the star of promise still
shone, unrecking of the presump-
tuous human heart which had dared to
dream its silvery splendour a pennon of
hope.
CHAPTER VUI.
When Sidney opened his eyes next
day it was upon a transfigured world
that he looked. A world golden with
imaginings of happiness across whose
vistas shone a white path, like (he
milky way in the heavens, marking the
life road to be lYodden by Vashti and
himself. Cradled in a happy trance
his heart knew no apprehensions. At
such a time retrospect shares the mind
almost equally with anticipation. The
glorious present is made still more
glorious by comparison. As Sidney
dwelt upon his past it was borne in
upon him with peculiar force that it had
been but a curtain raiser to the real
drama of his life. He had been a popu-
lar man as a student and afterwards
also, but it seemed strange even to
himself how few real ties he would have
to sever in adopting this new life — so
radically different in vocation from any
he ever dreamed of before. The fact
was that in all his friendships he
had given more than he had re-
ceived. He had give liberally of that
intangible vital capital called sympathy
and he had received but little in re-
turn. Although he had not realized
it his friendships had been only so
many drains upon his vitality. He
had thought of, and for, his friends con-
tinually ; they had accorded him the
tribute of uncomprehending admira*
tton which bears the same relation to
real sympathy as bran does to the full,
rich wheat. Thus it was that in sep-
arating himself from these friendships
he felt no wrench. Separate from
them he must. He knew that the
keeping of his promise to Vashti was
utterly incompatible with his old life ;
he must " come out and be separate "
from all his old associates and associ-
ations. He felt, however, that this
would be possible ; possible without
sacrilege. His attitude towards re-
ligion had always been defensive ra-
ther than offensive. He felt deeply the
pathos of the Christ drama. The fig-
ure of the Man of Sorrows was a fii-
miliar one in the gallery of mental por-
traits to which this idealist had turned
in time of trial for strength.
There was one man whose verdict
upon his action he longed to know, yet
dreaded to ask. A strong soul, un-
tamed by sect, unshackled by formu-
lated belief. A man whose magnifi-
cent active human organism was hal-
lowed by the silver thread of mystic-
ism. A man whose splendid logical
mind was transcended by a subtle
sense of premonition, intuition, which
led him far beyond where his reason or
his scanty learning could bear him
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company. A man whose eyes looked
out wistfully yet eag'erly from beneath
penthouse eyebrows. A man whose
toil- roughened fingers turned reverent-
Jy the pages of books he could not read;
FreDch or German books beyond his
ken. A man in whose proper person
Sidney had always felt there was sym-
bolled forth the half blind, half percep-
tive struggle of the human to compre-
hend the infinite.
What would this man think ef his
new vows ? This man who would
have died for what the world called his
Well, Sidney told himself that his
first devoir was to Vashti and the pro-
mise made to her. He would not de-
lay. These thoughts bore him com-
pany till he was in the halt He did
not know the hour, but suddenly he
was aware of a subtle, penetrating .
freshness in the air. He looked out of
the hall door : the garden was dim
with autumnal dew. Was it indeed
so very early?
He heard voices in the kitchen. He
found there oolyMr. Lansiogand Miss
Tribbey.
" Is it so early ? " he asked, smiling.
"For the land's sakes! Mr. Mar-
tin ! " said Temperance. " Is that
you ? "
Sidney laughed aloud ; there was a
ring in his voice which made Temper-
ance regard him.
"I have been awake forages," he
said ; " so here I am."
Temperance remembered certain
days in the past when she had been
wont to awaken ere the first bird sang
in the dark. Those were the days
when Nathan, a hobbledehoy, too bash-
ful to woo her in daylight, used to way-
lay her in the lane when she took the
cows back to the field, and stand with
his arm about her in the dusk.
Temperance rubbed her eyes.
"The morning sun do dazzle," she
said, giving unsought explanation of
the moisture in her eyes.
" Better set right down and have
breakfast," said old Mr. Lansing.
" The young folks is turrible lazy, it
seems tome, nowadays."
" Oh, not all of them," said Sidney.
" Look at Temperance ! "
Old Lansing chuckled delightedly.
" Nathan Peck had better look out.
Tem'prins; I alius did say you had a
way with the men."
Temperance tossed her head, well
pleased.
"Will you have your eggs fried or
biled ? " she asked Sidney. The blush
upon her gaunt cheek giving her a
sadly sweet look of girlhood.
Old Lansing finished his breakfast
and pushed back his chair.
" You'll excuse me, "he said, "but
I've been up sense cock-crow, and I
havn't done a blessed thing but water
the cows. The men are in the barn
now waiting. Tem'prins '11 give you
breakfast. I'll warrant the girls will
be surprised when they get down.
Lazy critturs I Temp'rins, why don't
you wake 'cm up ? "
"O sakes I Let 'em sleep," said
Temperance; "in a few more years
they'll wake fast enough o' their own
accord. Laws \ I kin mind when I'd
have slep' all day if they'd let me be."
In this homely sentence lay the se-
cret of Temperance's influence. This
gaunt old maid never forgot the work-
ings of her own youth. Indeed now
that it was past she acknowledged Its
weaknesses very frankly, and this re-
miniscence made her very lenient to-
wards young people.
Old Mr. Lansing departed for the
barn, and Sidney, filled with impatience
to see Vashti, paced up and down the
kitchen.
Temperance brought the eggs and
sat down behind the tray, looking at
him with a sort of pitiful sympathy in
her keen eyes.
Sidney essayed to begin his break-
fast ; a smile twitching the corners of
his sensitive mouth.
Temperance watched him.
At length he laid down his knife and
looked at her.
A subtle atmosphei'e of sympathy
made him confident and expansive.
" I say Temperance," he said, " I
was never so happy in all my life. You
don't mind my talking to you about it.
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
45
do youP I'm so happy that — oh Tem-
perance. "
It was a boyish conclusion; he
looked at the gaunt country woman;
herhands worked nervously; she looked
as if she frit the emotion which made
him ineloquent.
"You have seen — you are pleased?"
he continued in haphazard fashion.
"Bless your soul Sidney," burst out
Miss Tribbey, forgetting' to be formal,
"I'm pleased if so be you're happy. I
ain't very religious. I expect I have a
worldly heart. I'm tike Martha 4n the
Bible, alius looking after cooking and
slch, but I've said to my Nathan
heaps o' times, 'He's a blessing' I've
said ' to have in the house,' and 1 mean
it. My soul ! I only hope Vashti 'II
come up to your expectation."
' "Ah, "said Sidney, "there's no doubt
of that. She's perfect."
Miss Tribbey's mouth half opened,
then closed resolutely. She had her
own standard of perfection, but she
had too much sense to deprecate the
lover's fond extravagance.
"I'm perfectly content," said Sidney,
"perfectly,"
Miss Tribbey grew very white.
" Don't say that," she said earnestly,
"don't; no good ever came of sich a
boiist. It's terrible dangerous t' say
you are perfectly content. I never
knew good' to come of it — never."
"But I am," said Sidney, feeling
happy enough to challenge the powers
of evil en masse.
"Listen," said Temperance gravely,
"don't say that, 'Taint meant for
mortal man to be content. 'Taint in-
tended. What would make us work
for Heaven if we was perfectly content
here? No, don't say it. I've known
one or two people that thought them-
selves perfectly content, and how soon
they was brought down 1 There was
Mrs Winder. Has anyone told you
about Mrs. Winder?"
"No," said Sidney, "but i know
her by sight. She's got a stern
face."
"Starn! You'd be starn-looking too
if you'd come through what Sal Winder
has. First she married Joshua Winder;
he was a bad lot if ever there was one,
and after they'd been married ten years
and had four children what does he do
but up and run away with a bound girl
at Mr. Phillipses, a red-cheeked, bold-
faced critter she was. Well, Sal never
said nothin'. She was left with a
mortgage and the four children and a
roof that leaked. I don't s'pose anyone
ever knowed the shifts Sal was put to
to bring up them young ones and
work that place and make both ends
meet and keep the roof of the old house
from falling in. Mebbe you've remark-
ed the old house? It's got a white
rosebush by the door, and blue ragged-
sailors in the yard and the pile of bricks
beyond was once a smoke house. She
had all her hams and bacon stole one
year to make things easier for her.
Well, her oldest boy was the most re-
markable young one that Dole ever
see. Joshua his name was, after his
father, but that's all the likeness there
was between the two of them. That
boy was jist grit and goodness clean
through! And the way he helped his
mother! There wasn't a foot of that
old place they didn't work and prices
were good then and in about six years
Sal got the mortgage paid. She gave
a dollar to the plate in church the next
Sunday. Some held 'twas done to
show off, but Sal wasn't that stripe of
woman. 'Twas a thankofFering, that's
what it was.
"Well, next year Sal built a barn, and
the year after the new house was begun.
The house went on slowly, for Sal
wanted to pay as she went along.
Well, at last the house was built and
painted real tasty, and one day 1 was
over there to visit a spell and Sal says,
'Joshua has gone to pay the painter
for the house painting,' she says; 'it's
a sort of celebration for us and we're
having ducks for supper. I nope you'll
stay and help us celebrate.' Then she
went on to say how good Joshua had
been, which she didn't need to tell me,
for all Dole knowed he was perfect if
ever there was a perfect son. So jest
after the lamps was lighted, in come
Joshua. He was tall and slim; he
favoured Sal in his looks; he had
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worked so hard ever since he was little
that his hands had a turrible knotty
took like an old man's, and he had a sort
of responsible expression to his face.
Well, we was all setting at supper and
Joshua had cut up the ducks and we
was all helped and Sal says, 'Now
make your supper all of ye. We've
had a hard row to hoe, Joshua and me,
but we've kep' it clear o' weeds and I
guess we're goin' to have a harvest
o'peace and quiet after the grubbin.'
Joshua looked up at his mother and 1
never seen two people more happy to
look at. Sal was real talkative that
night and she says:
'Well, Temperance, I'm right glad
you're here to-nighL Fm perfectly con-
tent this night, ^ she says. The words
wasn't out of her mouth till I saw
Joshua give a shiver — like a person
with a chill in his back.
" Have you got a chill, Joshua ? "
I says, and he laughed quite uncon-
sarned, and he says, ' Yes, I seem to
have the shivers.'
" Four days after that Joshua Winder
lay dead in the new house . . . My !
I mind how his hands looked in his
coffin. His face was young, but his
hands looked as if he'd done his heft o'
work. No, never say you are perfectly
content. Its turrible dangerous."
Sidney's sensitive heart was wrung
by the homely story.
" Oh, Temperance," he said, "why
did you tell me that ? " She looked at
him as a surgeon might regard one
whom his healing lancet had pained.
" Because," said Temperance, "be-
cause it's a tempting o' Providence to
say or to think you are content. I
ain't superstitious, but I'd rather hear
the bitterest complainings as to hear
anyone say that."
"And yet," said Sidney, " I should
think the Lord would be pleased to see
people happy, each in his own way."
" Well," said Temperance, modest-
ly, "I ain't much on religion, Mr.
Martin. I can't argue and praise
and testify the way some can, but my
experience has been that when folks
begin to think themselves and their
lives is perfect and to mix up earth
with heaven, and forget which one
they're livin' in, they're apt to be
brought up sudden. It seems to me
heaven's a good deal like a bit o' sugar
held in front of a tired horse to make
him pull. I guess there's a good many
of us would lie down in the harness if
it wasn't for that same bit of sugar ;
we may look past the sugar for a while,
but when we get to a bit of stiff clay
or run up against a rock we're mighty
glad to have the sugar in front o' us
again ; but sakes ! you ain't made no
breakfest, and there's the girls ! You'll
breakfast with — her — after all."
Temperance gave him an arch took
and departed, and Mabella had hardly
crossed the threshold before the sym-
pathetic Miss Tribbey called her; when
she arrived in the back kitchen Tem-
perence took her by the shoulders and
whispered energetically in her ear :
"Sakes, M'bella I Don't go where
you ain't wanted."
.Mabella's eyes lighted with sym-
pathy.
" You don't say \ " she said.
Temperance nodded like a man-
darin.
"It must he catching!" said Mabella.
" It was Nathan brought the infection
to the house. "
" Go 'long with you," said Temper-
ance, and with a very considerate
clatter of dishes she made her intend-
ed entry audible to the two people in
the kitchen.
Mabella looked at Vashti eagerly —
sympathetically, but the calm, beauti-
ful face of her cousin was as a sealed
book.
"Whatever was that noise in the
night. Temperance ? " asked Vashti.
" Why, I don't know," said Tem-
perance. " I was sure I heard a noise,
but I couldn't see anything when I got
up. Did you hear anything, Mr. Mar-
tin ? "
"Not I," said Sidney, "but I was
so busy with my own thoughts that
you might have fired a cannon at my
ear and I would not have heard it."
He looked at Vashti ; her down-droop-
ed eyes were fixed upon her plate; sud-
denly he exclaimed :
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
47
"What have you done to your hand P
It's buroed !"
"Yes," she said quietly, "after I
blew out my lamp lastnig'ht I knocked
the chimaey off. I caught it against
my side with the back of my hand,
that burned it"
" My!" said Mabella. " I would
have let it break."
Vashti smiled, and suddenly raised
her eyes to Sidney.
" A little pain is good for me, 1
think. It makes one know things are
real."
"But the reality is sometimes sweet-
er than the dream," he said, ten-
derly.
She let her eyes fall in maidenly
manner. It was as if she had spoken.
This woman's most ordinary move-
ments proclwmed the eloquence of ges-
ture.
"You must have been up early,"
said Mabetia to Sidney.
" Yes," he said, " I was in a hurry
to leave the dream-world for the
real."
" And how do you like it?" asked
Mabella, saucily.
Vashti spoke at the moment, some
trivial speech, but in her tone there
was the echo of might and right It
was as if with a wave of her hand she
brushed aside from his consideration
everything, every person, but herself.
They rose from the table together.
"Come out," he whispered; she
nodded, and soon they were pacing
together in the morning sunshine.
Mabella looked after them ; turning,
she saw Temperance wiping her eyes,
"Whatisii?" she asked with con-
cern.
" Nothing," said Temperance ;
"nothing; I'm real low in my spirits
this morning, though why, I'm sure I
can't say. But it's fair touching to
hear him ! There he was this morning
talkin' of her being perfect, and sayin'
he was perfectly contented. It's a
tempting o' Providence. And, Ma-
bella, there's Vashti — she — well, 1 may
misjudge," concluded Temperance
lamely. " Sakes ! look at them chick-
ings," with which Temperance took
herself off to regulate the ways and
manners of her poultry yard. Mabel-
la deparled to do her work light heart-
edly, and Vashti out in the morning
sunshine with her lover was weaving
her web more and more closely about
him.
In two nights more Sidney was
leaving Dole.
It was the night of the prayer meet-
ing.
All Dole knew of his engagement to
Vashti Lansing ; ail knew he hoped to
be the successor of old Mr. Didymus.
The old white-headed man had spoken
a few words to him telling him how
happy he was to think of his place be-
ing so filled. He spoke of it calmly,
but Sidney's lip quivered with emotion.
Mr. Didymus said, "Wait till you're
my age and you won't think it sad to
talk of crossing over. Wife and I
have been two lonely old people for
long now, hearkening for the Lord's
voice in the morning and in the even-
ing, and sometimes inclined to say :
' How long, oh. Lord ! How long? '
We won't be long separated. When
folks live as long together as we have
they soon follow each other. That's
another of God's kindnesses."
There was in the simple old man's
speech an actual faith and trust which
brought his belief within the vivid cir-
cle of reality.
" I will do my best," said Sidney.
"The Lord will help you," said the
old man.
The prayer meeting was animated
by thought for Sidney. There was
something in the idea of his going
forth to prepare to be their pastor which
caught the Dole heart and stirred its
supine imagination.
When old Mr. Didymus prayed for
him, that he might be kept, and
strengthened and guided, it was with
all the fervour of his simple piety.
The intensity of his feeling communi-
cated itself to his hearers. Ameta
were breathed deeply and solemnly
forth.
Vashti would have liked Sidney to
speak.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
"1 caonot," he said simply ; nor
was his silence ill thought of. He was
going forth ; he was to be comforted ;
he was the one to listen to-night whilst
they encouraged him and pled for him,
and again, in the name of the Great
Sacrifice, offered up petitions for him.
The hour had come for the closing of
the meeting, when suddenly Mary
Shinar's clear, high treble uttered the
first words of one of the most poign-
antly sweet hymns ever written.
" God be Tuilh you till roe mttt again —
May His Undtr care tumnind you.
And His loving arm upheldyou,
God be vith you till TPt tneel again."
Every voice in the church joined in
this farewell, and then the benediction
was slowly said — the old tender, lov-
ing, apostolic benediction, and they all
streamed forth into the chill purity of
the autumn night. They shook hands
with him, and he stood among them
tall and slight and pale, inexpressibly
touched by their kindliness, unexpec-
tedly thrilled by their display of emo-
tion. It was only their religion which
moved these people to demonstration.
The last hand clasp was given. The
lights in the church were out, and the
Lansing party took its way home-
ward.
Temperance's face and Mabella's
were both tear-stained. Vashti's pale
beauty shone out of the dusk with
lofty quietude in every line.
Sidney looking at her felt he real-
ized what perfection of body and spirit
A new moon was rising in the clear
pale sky — the wide fields, tufted here
and there with dim blossomed wild as-
ters, lay sweet and calm, awaiting the
approach of night as a cradled child
awaits its mother's kiss. Far away
the twinkling lights of solitary farm-
houses shone, only serving to empha-
size the sense of solitude, here and
there a tree made a blacker shadow
against the more intangible shades of
night. There was no sound of twilight
birds ; no murmur of insect life.
Sidney was passing home through the
heart of the silence after a farewell visit
to Lanty who was kept at home nurs-
ing a sick horse.
It was the night before Sidney's de>
parture from the Lansing house. The
summer was over and gone. It had
heaped the granaries of his heart high
with the golden grain of happiness. He
walked swiftly on, then suddenly con-
scious that he was walking upon
another surface than the grass, he
paused and looked about him. Around
him was the tender greenness of the
newly springing grain — above him the
hunters' moon curved' its silver cres-
cent, very young yet and shapen like
a hunterls horn. A new sweet night
was enfolding the earth, gathering the
cares of the day beneath its wings, and
bringing with it as deep a sense of
hopeful peace as fell upon the earth
after the transcendent glory of the first
day, and here amid these sweet familiar
symbols of nature's tireless beginnings
he was conscious of an exalted sense
He stood silent, gazing out into the
infinity of the twilight.
Afterwards when the pastoral man-
tle did fall upon his shoulders there
was a solemn laying on of hands, a
solemn reception into the ranks of
those who fight for good ; but the real
consecration of Sidney's life took place
in that lonely silent field, where the
furrows had not yet merged their iden-
tity one with the other, where the red
clods were not yet hidden by the blades.
Out of the twilight a mighty finger
touched him, and ever after he bore
upon his forehead almost as a visible
light the spiritual illumination which
came to him then. It was, alas, no
self- comforting recognition of a person-
al God. It was only the sense that all
was in accord between the Purposer and
the world he had made ; but this was
much to Sidney. The man-made discord
could be remedied, even as the harsh
keysmaybeattuned. Forever after this
hour he would give himself up to striv-
ing to bring his fellows into accord
with the beautiful world about them.
Suddenly he felt himself alone. A
speck in the vastness of the night, a
Digiliz
:y Google
Afl-CAREME IN PARIS
49
little flame flickering unseen ; but just
as a sense of isolation beg'an to fall
upon him a mellow glow gladdened
his eyes — the light from the open door
of the old Lansing house. He bent
his steps toward it with a humble feel-
ing that he had trodden upon holy
gfround ere he was fitly purified.
In after days when many perplexities
pressed upon him, he often withdrew
in spirit to this twilight scene. Of its
grey shades, its dim distances, its
silence, its serenity, its ineffable purity
he built for himself a sanctuary.
Alas 1 In that sanctuary the God was
always veiled.
To be Continued.
MI-CAREME IN PARIS.
' ' Celte ann^ un a choisi
La plus teune et [a plus belle."
SO runs the song composed and dedi-
cated annually to the poor ironing
girl selected to be "La Reine des
Reines." Mi-Car£me (Mid-Lent) is the
event in the life of the blanchisseuse
(washerwoman) never to be forgotten.
It is the red-letter day of the year, the
May-day of Merrie England, and
something for the young ironing girls
to look forward to in the long winter
evenings while standing at the ironing
table mechanically passing their hot
irons back and forth over the daitity
linen. It is a day to be remembered
when, looking back in after years, they
tell their children over and over again
the story of their reign at Mi-CarSme.
To trace the custom is exceedingly
difficult, for the washerwomen have
kept a holiday at Mid-Lent for many,
many years. It probably sprung up,
however, from a small beginning, and
is later by some few years than the
Carnival at Mardi-Gras. Evidently it
is a brief respite from the weariness
produced by the long Lenten period of
abstinence and fasting, an innate de-
sire for fun, life and pleasure.
In Paris it is the custom to name a
queen, dress her up in grand attire, par-
ade the streets and wind up the festivit-
ies by a grand ball in her honour. After
the Franco- Prussian War in 1870 the
fite was for a time suppressed, but the
fondness for gaiety, spontaneous in the
French people and never really put
down, burst forth anew, and the Mi-
Car£me f€te has always been since that
time a brilliant holiday festival.
It was in '95 that I saw theMi-Car^me
and pretty Mite. Marie Louise Grimme,
a poor ironing girl, chosen because of
her extraordinary beauty to be "La
Reine." Such a dark, dismal morning
as it was that year, a bleak March
morning, which I recall perfectly be-
cause I felt that the little queen must
be a bit sad at heart as she sprang out
of bed and looked out from her little
attic window upon the cheerless pros-
pect. The clouds were thick and
threatening, and the wind raw and
penetrating. Whatever may have
been her feelings she donned her hand-
some white satin gown with Its long
court train of yellow brocade, powder-
ed her wavy golden hair, darkened her
delicately-arched eyebrows and lashes
until her blue eyes seemed sufficiently
large and brilliant, received her maids
of honour, bowed her stately head for
her crown, which looked for all the
world like the real thing, seized her
sceptre, the emblem of her reign for
twenty-four hours, ascended her gilded
chariot of the style of Louis XV. and
drawn by eight superb white horses
goi^cus in gold-plated harnesses, and
amid the blast of trumpets drove away
to salute President and Mrs. Faure at
the Palais Champs Elysie. From the
distinguished and popular President
the merry queen received a beautiful
bracelet, the right to rule the gay city
for a day and the homage due her
rank ; then, smiling and bowing her
thanks, she joined the glistening pro-
cession headed up the Grand Boule-
vards. The sun tried to smile and
show his good nature, and as the char-
iot of the queen halted for a few mo-
ments before the beautiful Church of
the Madeleine he burst forth and shone
upon the golden- haired, stately Mari& I
C
5°
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
The crowds all along the boulevards
from the Madeleine, with its massive
Corinthian columns, to the Place Bas*
tille, the route of the procession, surg*'
ed back and forth, pushing, crowding
and jostling each other good-naturedly,
for the utmost good cheer prevailed
everywhere and there was not a sign
of ill-temper all day. Vendors of con-
fetti and serpentines/ calling out their
wares, " Qu'est-ce qui n'a pas ses con-
fetti?" or "V'li confetti cinquante
centimes I'sac!" were heard upon all
sides, and handful alter handful of the
small, circular pieces of bright-colour-
ed, sweet-scented paper was hurled at
you from every point, blinding you,
choking you, stifling you, but never
disturbing your serenity so long as you
had a handful left in your bag to throw
back. Good humour reigned, and the
gay Parisians, phlegmatic Germans,
pondrous Englishmen and breezy
Americans laughed, joked and made
merry together, giving themselves up
to the boisterous merriment of the day,
children once again.
All of the lavoirs of the city were
represented in gorgeously-decorated
cars, the occupants in equally gor-
geous attire, and, most interesting of
all, the students from the mysterious
and fascinating Latin Quarter were the
feature of the parade. All of their cars
were marvellously original and clever
in their conception, and they were
greeted with cheers and pelted with
flowers all along the route. One of
the cars, more daring than the rest,
was called " Le Gu^risseur du Roi,"
having an enormous mortar and pestle
in front, and in it a nurse dangling a
tiny baby in her arms, while upon a
table in the centre of the car was a
large figure being dissA:ted with
ghoulish glee by a crowd of students,
who drew from the abdominal cavity
handful after handful of confetti, flow-
ers, serpentines and bon-bons, which
they threw down to the crowd below.
Another unique car was that of the
law, in the centre of which was an
enormous scale balancing a pretty girt
upon the one side and a few heavy law
book^ upon the other. It is needless
to say that tn this case, as in all others,
beauty outweighed everything else.
Then came the academicians in vivid
green coats, forty-one in all ; at least,
the tall, bearded fellow who marched in
the rear bore that number upon his
casque. On his back was a quantity
of books, whose titles were an index
to his identity. He was Monsieur
Zola, and he had no end of fun driving
off his fellow-members who, furious at
his elevation to the additional chair,
made continued attacks upon him with
their large quill pens. Flowers, money,
choice fruit, bon-bons and confetti were
showered upon the passing students,
only to be caught, if possible, and
thrown back to be caught again and
treasured as a souvenir by someone
upon the crowded pavement. It was
very, very gay and a novelty to one
seeing it for the first time.
The eventful day closed with mask-
ed balls at the Opera House, a sump-
tuous edifice and the largest theatre in
the world, and at the Nouveau Cirque
and Casino de Paris. The students
had charge of the ball at the Cirque,
and at half-past ten the grand entree
took place, followed by a bright farce,
choosing the queen of the fdte, the
ball and charming battle of flowers.
Great bushel baskets full of violets,
roses, mignonette, lilies of the valley
and fragrant narcissus were passed
around, and a battle royal waged for
over an hour amid peals of merry
laughter, lively dance music and happy
good-fellowship. Staid English ma-
trons in the boxes, attractive American
mammas with more attractive daugh-
ters in the balcony ; chic, brilliantly-
dressed, fashionable Frenchwomen
caught and threw back the bunches of
flowers to the students and their best
girls upon the ballroom floor below.
The balls, one and all, were striking and
most extravagant, but, belonging as
they do to the class of peculiar Paris-
ian institutions, they are always pa-
tronized by the many strangers who
are fortunate enough to be in the <
bright city for Mi-Car Sme.
Jane Marlm.
:y Google
THE DAIRY INDUSTRY OF CANADA.
BY J. W. WHEATON, EDITOR OF " FARMING."
THE rise and progress of Canadian
dairying is one of the most im-
portant factors in the material develop*
ment of this country. Since 1864,
when the first co-operative cheese fac-
tory was started, the manufacturing' of
cheese in Canada has made remark-
able progress. At the beginning, it is
true, progress was slow, and those as-
sociated in promoting and developing
the industry met with many discour-
agements in their endeavours to get the
people interested, and to establish a
market for the product. But persever-
ance, indomitable energy, and implicit
faith in its possibilities finally tri-
umphed, as they always will where
conditions are at all favourable, and
to-day we have in the Dominion an in-
dustry which, both as to the amount of
money it annually brings into the coun-
try and the material progress resulting
from it, is second to none.
THE FIRST CHEESE FACTORY.
We have already stated that the first
co-operative cheese factory was started
in Canada in 1864. There is some
little difference of opinion among dairy-
men as to the locality where the first
factory was operated. More than one
district in Ontario has endeavoured to
claim credit for its inception. Every-
thing considered, however, the burden
of proof decidedly favours Oxford
County as being the birthplace of co-
operative dairying in Canada, and
Harvey Farrington, a cheese manufac-
turer of Herkimer County, New York
State, who moved to Canada in
1S63, as being entitled to the credit of
having in 1864 operated the first Cana-
Digiliz
:y Google
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
dian cheese factory. A rival claim
comes from the County of Leeds that
Mr. W. P. Strong, of Brockville, is
the individual who should be thus hon-
oured, the contention being that he
operated a cheese factory in Eastern
Ontario as early, if not earlier, than
Mr. Farrington did in Western On-
tario. Though Mr. Strong was a pio-
neer in the movement, and rendered
very valuable services in the earliest
days, the facts
,871.
that hi
tied to any
credit as being
the first to in-
troduce the sys-
tem. It is true,
however, that
within a year or
two of the start-
ing of the busi-
ness in Western
Ontario, the late
Hon. Senator
Reed, of Belle-
ville, having in-
vestigated the
working of the
CO- operative
cheese factory
which had then
been in oper-
ation in New
York State for
several years,
was instrumen-
tal in starting a
cheese factory
near Belleville,
which section
has since de-
veloped into
one of our leading' dairy districts. The
credit of having taken the initiative in
this matter is no small honour, and it
is little wonder so many districts are
laying claim thereto.
ITS PROGRESS.
Statistics are usually dry and uninter-
esting, but in noting the progress of an
industry of this character they speak
more loudly than anything else. The
census of 1871, taken just seven years
after the first factory was started,
showed that there were 353 cheese fac-
tories in the Dominion. The census
of 1881 gave 709 cheese factories, that
of i8gi 1,565 factories, and the returns
for 1897-98 compiled by Mr. George
Johnsson, Dominion Statistician, show
that there are 2,759 factories, including
203 making both butter and cheese.
In 1871 the average output of each
factorywas val-
ued at $4,570,
in 1891 at $6,-
PROGRESS OF CANADIAN DAIRYING.
. .$ 918,000
. , 2,164,995
. . 3,500,000
United Slates. Canaiia.
1870. . . . 57,296.327 lbs. 5,827,782 lbs.
1880. .. .127,553,907 '• 40,368,678 ■•
iSgo-.- 95.376,053 •' 94,260.187 ■'
... 60,448,421 ■■ 146,004,650 "
The dis
1897-98 at S5,-
570, or $680
less than in
1S91, but $1,-
000 more than
in 1871, giving
an output for
1897 of about
$15,300,000,35
compared with
$9,780,000 in
1891, $5,460,-
000 in 1881,
and $1,602,000
in 187 1. We
find, however,
from the last
report of the
Commissioner
of Agriculture
and Dairying
that forthe year
ending Decem-
ber 31st, 1897,
Great Britain
imported from
Canada cheese
to the value of
$16,300,905.
these estimates is
cpancy
probably due to the fact that the for-
mer one is based upon returns up to
June 30th, 1898. The estimated value
of the cheese exported for the year end-
ing December 31st, 1898, Is $17,572,-
763. But as this includes a part of the
make of 1897, which was held over and
which was very large, it is somewhat
higher than the total value of the cheese
made last year.
Digiliz
:yG6oglt:
THE DAIRY INDUSTRY OF CANADA
Digitized byGoOgIC
54
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
THE CO-OPERATIVE CREAMERY.
Though the co-operative creamery
did not appear on the scene till ten or
twelve years after the cheese factory,
satisfactory progress has also been
made in this important branch of dairy-
ing. To-day Canadian creamery but-
ter, in so far as its quality is concerned,
stands on about the same fooling as
cheese in the British markets, and the
outlook for the extension of this branch
of Canadian trade is of the most hope-
ful character. In 1871 the Dominion
had no co-operative creameries for the
manufacture of butter, it was all home
value for that year $918, oof). At the
the year ending Junt
be over $3,000,000
include the butter m
of the output for
30th, i8g8, would
which does not
ide in the winter
referring to the
Agricultural and Dairy Commissioners'
report, we find that our exports of
butter to Great Britain during 1897
were valued at $2,164,995. From May
ist, 1S98, to the present Canada has
increased her exports of butter by over
100,000 packages, which would mean
an increase in value of fully $1 ,000.000
and would make the total value of the
made. In 1881 there were 46 cream-
eries, all but one being in Ontario and
Quebec, In 1891 this number had in-
creased to 170, and, according to the
latest returns, the number in operation
during the past season was 559. In
addition to this, there were in opera-
tion during 189H, 203 factories making
butter during the winter and cheese
during the summer, which, if classed
with the others, make a total of 762
co-operative creameries. In 1891 the
output per creamery was valued at
$5,400, which would make the total
exports for the year just closed consid-
erably over $3,000,000.
DAIRYING IN THE PROVINCES.
It will be interesting just here to no-
tice briefly the progress of the in-
dustry in the various provinces of the
Dominion. For a number of years
cheese-making on the co-operative plan
was confined mainly to Ontario. There
are, however, buildings yet standing
in Nova Scotia which were erected for
cheese-making purposes in the early
seventies. These evidently were not
Digiliz
:yGooglt:
THE DAIRY INDUSTRY OF CANADA
55
manag'ed in the best possible way, as
they were abandoned after being- in
operation for a year or two. After the
business was well established in On-
tario, and it had been proven to be a
profitable business tor the farmer, co-
operative cheese factories were started
in Quebec. These at first were con-
fined to the Eastern Townships, but
have since spread over a large portion
of the French-speaking districts.
There is no part of the Dominion mak-
ing; more rapid progress in regard to
the quality of its cheese than Quebec,
where an elaborate »
tion on the syndicate plai
The
I of instruc-
i carried on.
■opera
made greater pro-
gress in Quebec
in its early stages
than it did in On-
tario, where for
a time it had a
hard struggle to
successfully com-
pete with the
cheese factory.
Ot late years,
however, the riv-
alry between the
two to secure the
farmer's patron-
age has almost
died out, and the
and the creamery
arebeingbrought "
into closer rela-
tions with each ether chiefly through
the advent of the winter dairying move-
ment, when many of the former began
to make butter as well as cheese.
Outside of Ontario and Quebec
dairying was of very little importance
in the other provinces of the Domin-
ion till 1891, when the Dominion
Dairying Service was inaugurated by
the Dominion Government, under the
direction of Professor J. W. Robert-
son. Since that time great progress
has been made in almost every pro-
vince. The number of cheese factor-
ies and creameries in the various pro-
vinces since 1891 has increased in Nova
Scotia from 16 to 23, in Prince Edward
Island from 4 to 35, in New Brunswick
from 10 to 28, in Quebec from 728 to
1,785, in Ontario from 938 to 1,317,
in Manitoba from 31 to 66, in the
North-West Territories from 7 to 32,
and in British Columbia from i to 5.
A comparison of the progress of
dairying, and more particularly cheese-
making in Canada and the United
States, may prove both interesting and
profitable just here. There is nothing
that the Canadian dairyman is more
FTTER HAKING~Gt'EU>H.
proud of than that the "Yankee" has
been forced to take a back seat in so
far as making good cheese is concern-
ed. Canadian cheese has almost re-
placedtheAmerican article inthe British
markets, and there is no longer much
fear of effective competition from that
quarter. It was not always so. Be-
fore 1870 Canadian cheese was not
known in England, and those who first
endeavoured to open up a market there,
prominent among whom may be men-
tioned the names of the Hon. Adam
Brown, of Hamilton, the late E. Cass-
well, of Ingersoll, and the Hon, Thom-
as Baltantyne, of Stratford, had very
Digitized by Google
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
great difficulty in persuading' the Eng-
lish dealers to sell Canadian cheese
even on commission, so much were
they prejudiced in favour of American
cheese, believing: that no good thing
could come out of such a "cold,
snowy region " as Canada. But per-
sistence and the good quality of the
goods to back it up, prevailed, and no
food product of Canada is better
known in Great Britain at the present
time than cheese. A few figures will
show how the Canadian export trade
has grown, while that of the United
States has declined. In 1870 the Un-
ited States sent to Great Britain 57,-
296,327 pounds while Canada sent only
5.827,782 pounds, in [880 the United
States sent 127,553,907 pounds and
Canada 40,368,-
678 pounds, in
i8go the United
States sent 95,-
376,053 and Ca-
nada sent 94,-
260,187 pounds,
and in 1895 the
United States
sentonly6o,448,-
42ipounds, while
Canadasent 146,-
004,650 pounds,
or more than
double the quan-
tity. If an exact
comparison for
1898 could be
made, we are cer-
tain that Cana-
^- da's exports
would be fully
3^ times greater th:in those from
the United States. The exports of
creamery butter for 1898 will also be
found to be much greater from Canada
than from the United States.
One important feature in the devel-
opment of the dairy industry in the two
countries is the superiority of the laws
enacted in Canada for the protection
of the dairyman over those in existence
in the United States. This, perhaps,
more than anything else has been the
chief cause of the supremacy of the
one and the displacement of the other
in the markets of Great Britain. Just
when the export cheese trade of the
United Stales was beginning to assum
IL — KrNGSTON,
proportions
the making ot
s" or partly
skims" began to
be practised
largely in the
Kaste'rn Sta-
les, while in
the west
"bogus" or
"filled"
cheese be-
came the
product of
a great many
These "spu-
N, ..SI,
rious" goods
, Google
THE DAIRY INDUSTRY OF CANADA
were sent to Great Britain, and in
many cases sold as full cream cheese,
with the result that the United Stales
to-day, instead of occupying a first
place, occupies a second or third-rate
place in the export cheese trade. Cana-
dian dairymen, on theother hand, though
copying- the United States system in the
beginning, were sufficiently careful of
their future reputation as to copy only
that part of it that was helpful and todis-
card everything of an unsavoury or dis-
hone<;t nature. As the industry progres-
sed, stringent lawswereenacted through
the efforts of organized dairying to pre-
vent the making of skim-milk cheese in
the factories, or spurious dairy goods
of any kind, in
the Dominion
of Canada. So
effective have
these laws
been in pro-
moting honest
and ^upright
dealing that it
is our proud
boast that not
one pound of
oleomargarine
or of "filled"
cheese is'man-
ufactured or
sold in Canada
to-day. This
is no small ^^_^,, ,,„ ,„.
honour for a
. The Prop
young and
growing coun-
try to have in connection with one
of its important branches of trade.
In fact, and we say it advisedly, the
manufacturers of other lines of Ca-
nadian goods, and especially of food
products, owe a debt of gratitude to
the dairymen of this country for the re-
putation for honest and upright deal-
ing which they have established in
Great Britain. This reputation has
served to make it easier for other
kinds of products to find a market
in Great Britain, as the consumer
there knowing that Canadians are
honest in one line will be honest in
others also.
The value of an industry to a coun-
try is not measured alone by the
amount of wealth it brings in annually.
It is customary to measure the value
of a manufacturing establishment to a
town or city by the number of people
it gives employment to. Let us meas-
ure the value of the dairy industry by
this scale. There are estimated to be
3,^00 skilled cheese and butter makers
in the Dominion. To this must be
added the 6,000 persons who work in
the factories as assistants, making a
total of 9,300 persons who devote their
whole time during the season to cheese
and butter making. Then we have
about 18,000 people, such as secre-
taries of factories, milk-haulers, etc.,
who devote a portion of their time to
the work. Coupled with these are the
patrons or farmers who supply the milk,
who would number at least 150,000
people, making a grand total of over
1 77,000 of our citizenswho are directly
benefited by the dairy industry of Ca-
Though cheese-making was started
independently of Government assist-
:y Google
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
PROVINCIAL £
. MVACINTHE, Qr
ance in anyway, yet from the time its
importance to the country began to be
recognized, the industry has never beer
left entirely to look after itself. For a
number of years dairying has been
fostered by the Dominion Government
and by the local governments in the
various provinces, and politicians, to
be popular in the country at large, are
always ready to do something for the
dairy industry. In fact, some dairymen
go so far as to say that it would be a
good thing for the business if our leg-
islators would leave it alone for a
while. However this may be, dairy-
ing is never at a loss in both Houses
of Parliament for someone to cham-
pion its interests. The Dominion
Government, through its agriculture
and dairying branch, though its work is
to a large extent education-
al, gives special attention
to the market side of the in-
dustry, and by the employ-
ment of dairy experts to
give instruction in the fac-
tories, has done and is do-
ing much to spread the gos-
pel of good dairying in the
outlying provinces of the
Dominion. With one or
two exceptions the various
local governments are do-
ing effective work for the
industry in the provinces.
Their work is altogether of
an educational character
and is directed mainly to-
wards improving and main-
taining the quality of the product. This
is accomplished by means ot dairy
schools, grants to dairy associations,
and the distribution of dairy literature.
There are six dairy schools in the Dom-
inion, three of which are in Ontario,
one in Quebec, one in new Brunswick,
and one in Manitoba.
In addition to the work carried on
by the various governments, valuable
assistance is rendered the industry by
a number of dairy associations, some
of which receive liberal aid from the
local governments. Every province in
the Dominion now has an organization
of this kind, which, with few excep-
tions, devotes its energies exclusively
to dairy matters. Ontario has two
strong associations, one in Eastern
Ontario and one in Western Ontario,
:y Google
THE DAIRY INDUSTRY OF CANADA
which receive
l^rge grants
each yeartrom
the provincial
government to
carry on the
important
work they are
doing. Two
associations
were formed
in 1877 by a
division of the
old Canadian
Dairymen's
Association,
which was or-
ffatiized in
867. just
three years
after the first cheese factory was start-
ed, A third organization, the Ontario
Creameries Association, which was
formed to promote butter-making on
the co-operative plan, existed from
1885 to 1897, when it amalgamated
with the original eastern and western
associations, forming the two new or-
ganizations now in operation. The
history of the first organization with
that of the associations which spring
from it, had we the space to devote to
it, would be almost identical with the
progress which the dairy industry has
made since
its incep-
tion. The
first associ-
ation and
those which
ithavebeen
the
chief
from which
has been
of cheese and butter.
The work of the dairy associations,
with the exception of those in Ontario
and Quebec, is confined to annual con-
ventions and meetings, where practical
jii the various branches of
,re delivered by competent
d afterwards published for
I among the members. In
these gatherings the asso-
Ontario and Quebec carry
on a most important work by employ-
ing practical men to instruct the mak-
ers in the cheese factories and cream-
add re
distribut
addition
ing the fin-
est quality
Digitized byGoOgIC
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
are dispos-
ed of will be
interesting
to the unin-
itiated. In
Quebec and
in the pro-
V i n c e s
where the
Z DES CHENBS, MANITOBA.
eries. About twelve instructors are
employed annually in Ontario for this
work, while in Quebec, where the syn-
dicate system of instruction is so large-
ly developed, upwards of forty instruc-
tors are annually employed in visiting'
the various factories in that province.
It will thus be seen that if the various
forces. Government and otherwise, en-
gaged in promoting; dairying, do their
duty, there should be no fear of the
quality of our dairy products deterior-
ating or of the industry itself not
maintaining the important place it now
occupies in the material development
of this our fair Dominion.
A glance at the methods by which the
products of our cheese factories and
what em-
b ry o n ic
stage the
factory men
dispose of
their products every month or two
weeks, as the case may be, direct to the
exporter or shipper through correspon-
dence or to his representative who visits
the factory. InOntario, however, where
there is more competition in buying,
the business is carried on in a different
way. A number of dairy boards of
trade (upwards of 20 in all) have been
established at central towns and cities
to which the factories send represen-
tatives. These representatives or sales-
men meet the buyers, who are also mem-
bers of the board, once a week or once
a fortnight, according to arrangement,
at the local markets. Here the offer-
ings of the factories in the locality are
boarded and sold by what is known as
the " call system." The buyers make
their best bids for each lot as offered,
which the salesman can accept or re-
ject as he sees
fit. It may be
men engaged
in other com-
mercial enter-
prises to know
that all the
business of
these boards is
t r ansae ted
without the
,Gooj^le
THE DAIRY INDUSTRY OF CANADA
book. Very often thousands of dol-
lars' worth of cheese is sold for future
delivery without any record whatever
of the transaction other than a verbal
agreement between the buyer and sel-
ter, and to the credit of those who
make such a bargain, very few of them
are broken. Honesty is there for a pre-
vaihng principle in all our dairy meth-
ods and is responsible for a large share
of the prestige which the industry has
attained at home and abroad.
In closing we would like to impress
upon every one interested in Canadian
dairying that its essential feature and
active principle is co-operation. The
farmer, who supplies the milk, the
maker who makes it into cheese and
butter and the manufacturer or com-
pany which owns the building or
plant, are parts of a gigantic co-oper-
ative fabric upon which the very ex-
istence of the industry depends. Any
element that would tend to break that
fabric would deprive the industry of its
life itself The farmer, when he takes
his milk to the factory, is dependent
upon the maker for the quality of the
product that is to be made from it, and
the maker in turn is dependent upon
the farmer to supply him with a quality
of raw product from which to make a
good article that will meet the wishes
of the British consumer. Whenever
one of these factors fails in performing
his part in the co-operation the other
two must suffer and the industry as
well. Because of this co-operative char-
acter the help of the Governments,
the dairy tissociations and the dairy in-
structors is more necessary to the suc-
cess of the industry as a whole than it
would be to an industry where the co-
operative element does not exist. No
one, however, will begrudge the dairy
industry the assistance it receives from
the public chest. Every dollar it re-
ceives is returned a thousand-fold in
the$20,ooo,ooowhichitannually brings
into the country and in the prosperity
co-operative dairyingbrings to the com-
munity where it is carried on under the
most approved methods.
Digiliz
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CANADIAN CELEBRITIES.
DR. WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND.
WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND.
invested by Louis Frechette with
his title of " pathfinder of a new land
of song," physician, professor of medi-
cal jurisprudence, and ardent sports-
man, though an Irishman by birth and
descent, has undoubtedly absorbed the
great spirit of the country of his adop-
tion, and given it forth to the world
clothed in truest poetry — that which
brings a tear to the eye of the exile
and a sympathetic throb from the heart
of the lover of rural Canada and its
picturesque inhabitants. Dr. Drum-
mond was born at Currawn House,
Co. Leitrim, and enjoyed an ideal boy-
hood, shooting and fishing with his
father, an officer in the Royal Irish
Constabulary. He developed at an
early age the remarkable love of out-
door sport and Nature which speaks in
his " Memories."
" O Spirit of the Mountain ! Ihal speaks
lo us lo-niKht.
Return again and brii)); us new Urcams of
past delig'hl ;
And while our hoarl-throbs llng:er, and lillour
We'll worship lhe<? anions' *''e hills where
Hows the Saiiil MauriL-e."
The characteristics and folk-lore of
the habitants 6rst attracted Dr. Drum-
mond's attention at fifteen years of age,
when passing a summer at the Bord-a-
Ploutfe, which he has since immortaliz-
ed, and where "No more de voyageurs
is sing tak dey was sing alway."
From that time their sturdy manliness,
broken English and originality have
strongly influenced the recorder ot
their quaintness, and every brief respite
from professional duty is spent among
ihem " mid the grand old Lauren-
tides," under the spell of " the breath-
ing of the woodland, the throb of
Nature's heart."
It is good lo know that these " sub-
jects of the pen " appreciate their por-
trayal ; and the mental vision, conjured
by description, of old Phil-o-rum
Juneau, ancient guide and coureur-de-
bois, unswathing in his cabin among
the pines his treasured "edition de
luxe " and proudly pointing to the writ-
ing on the fly-leaf, strikes a deep chord
in our hearts, and insensibly adds
another link to our lengthening chain
of patriotism. For years Dr. Drum-
mond 6shed, hunted, listened and
:y Google
^
but the gratitude
oada. preserving as
tenderest, truest,
and most charac- :
teristic of the old
life which time
and modern in-
novations will
sweep away. As
the Midland Re-
view, of Louisville,
CANADIAN CELEBRITIES
thought among these people, oc-
casionally writing verses for his
own amusement and that of his
friends. Some of these were
given away, some appeared in
newspapers, and many were lost ;
but eventually a number were
gathered together by Mrs. Drum-
mond, and they formed the neu-
cleus of the " Habitant."
This book has received recog-
nition from the English and
French press of the old lands, as
well as the new, and has not only
brought its author undying fame,
3f the people of Ca- genius outside the .
i it does, all that is gratifying ; in Decei
^'^
'It
not too
much to say that
Dr. Drummond
has written him-
self immortally
into " Le Vieux
Tips.'
For
truth, sincerity,
simplicity and
idealization no
such poem as this
has ever been written i
The appreciation of 1
DR. DRUMMOND — TO-DAY.
n America." of Hawthornden.
>r. Drummond's to-day, to use his
ling, of course," and Crockett.
He, like Barrie, worships at the
shrine of " My Lady Nicotine," is
a great pedestrian, avoids golf,
fearing its fatal fascination, and
is a famous disciple of " Izaak
Walton," spending happy hours '■
with rod and gun "where is heard
the wizard loon's wild cry."
Dr. Drummond's mode of work
is erratic, writingat odd moments,
sometimes not for months, then
finishing one poem during the
quiet hours of a single even-
ing. To listen as Dr. Drum-
!)ommion is most
iber, 1898, he was
elected a Fellow
of the Royal So-
ciety of Literature
of England; in the
iiame year he was
entertained by the
Canadian Society
of New York, and
recently he has
created a literary
sensation in Chi-
cago by his read-
ing ot his poems,
and been the guest
of that city's cele-
brated Twentieth
Century Club. As
a lad Dr. Drum-
mond's favourite
authors were Wil-
liam Drummond,
id Captain Cook ;
iwn words, " Kip-
Digilized by Google
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
mond, in his study, reads a new-
ly wrought poem — one with a ripple of
life and salt breeze of the Gulf ; to look
up at shrewd, kindly old Phil-o-rum
smiling from the wall ; to smile at some
beaming" celebrity on the mantelpiece ;
and to glance regretfully from , an
exquisite photograph of tree-hung river
of running water to the bare branches
and driving sleet without, one feels that
this man has not only attained much,
but has the material and, above all. the
soul with which to do more, to the
glory of our dear land and the ennobling
of her sons,
E. Q. V.
THREE EXPERT CYCLISTS.
BY ROBERT BARR.
" 'T^RAVEL makes a full man," said
*- Lord Bacon. I am not sure
that I have the quotation right ; per-
haps it is " reading " that makes a full
man, or probably drinking ; anyhow, a
man picks up a good deal of informa-
tion while travelling which he would not
acquire had he remained at home.
Nearly everything I know I have picked
up on the road from one tramp or an-
other, and although I have met scient-
ists who sneer at my acquirements, I
put their contempt down to jealousy,
because the learning they possess has
been gathered slowly and painfully
from much reading of books, while I
arrive at my knowledge through a few
minutes' pleasant conversation with an
utter stranger. Scientists naturally do
not like another man to take a short
cut across the fields of knowledge, they
stick to the broad roundabout beaten
highway of education ; a dry and
dusty road; while I take a pleasant
path across the fields and arrive ahead
of them.
For instance, I was returning from
Switzerland a while ago, and in the
same railway compartment with me
were three cyclists who had been en-
joying themselves among the moun-
tains. They were quite evidently
bashful countrymen, while I, being
from the city, and knowing most
things, spoke condescendingly to them,
just as if they were my equals, so as
to put them at their ease with me,
which is my invariable custom when
meeting non-citified strangers. They
were naturally very much gratified at
this, and proceeded to tell me all they
knew.
"Yes," saidjohn W. Simpson, lean-
ing towards me with thankfulness for
my geniality beaming from his eyes,
" I've had a very nice time in Switzer-
land, thank you, a very successful
time ; although I didn't go so much for
the cycling, as to try my new avalanche
" Your avalanche wheel ! " 1 cried in
amazement, " I never heard of such a
thing."
"It is a little invention of my own.
Nothing has been published about it
yet, and 1 tell you this in strict con-
fidence. Some people have studied
avalanches, and some have not. Per-
haps you have made avalanches a
specialty ! "
" No," 1 replied with some reluct-
ance, hating to admit my ignorance,
"I can't say that I have investigated
avalanches to any great extent, my
sole care being to get out of their way
as quickly as possible."
" Quite so," retorted John W. Simp-
son, "that is the usual attitude of man-
kind towards an avalanche. Of course
people can't study the habits and cus-
toms of avalanches while running away
from them. Now I have estimated that
20,000,000 horse-power goes to waste
every year through the avalanches.
Heretofore nobody has made any effort
to use this tremendous power, and
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THREE EXPERT CYCLISTS
65
avalanches are allowed to slide down
in utter idleness all over the place. Of
course, when people grow wiser this
wasted force will all be utilized, and at
present I am doing' a little in my humble
way to show how useful an avalanche
can be to a cyclist. It takes a man,
roped to a couple of guides, ten hours
to descend from the top of the Jungfrau
to the level ground
below. The dis-
tance is, with the
zigzagging they
must do, some-
thing under eleven
miles, now I have
done it in two
minutes and six-
teen seconds'
avalanche bike.
Look what a
ing of time thi
comfort."
' ' Comfort 1
cried.
my
_ do you
mean to tell me
you have cycled
down an avalan-
che ? "
" I have cycled
down forty-seven
of them this sea-
son, and never had
an accident, except
once I punctured
the tireon thefront
" But how do
you know when an
avalanche is going
to start ? As I un-
derstand you, you
must travel with it
from the begin-
ning. There are n
tables in Switzerland that I ever heard
of."
" No, I don't wait for avalanches, 1
make my own. You see, at the top of
a mountain, if a man starts a snowball
down hill, it becomes an avalanche on
very short notice. My cycle is so con-
structed that it throws up a bit of snow-
ball as it goes along. I start from the
top of a peak in any direction, and the
first thing I know I an\ in the midst of
a tremendous avalanche. On the front
of the machine are a couple of fins, if I
may call them so, which spread out
automatically, and they keep the cycle
steady. The great point is, of course,
to remain upright in your saddle and
keep your machine
on the surface of
the avalanche.
There is lots of
room on top, as
the philosopher
says, and that ap-
plies to avalanches
as to everything
else. There are
three dangers to a
man coming down
without a machine
on an avalanche ;
first, he may be
smothered in the
debris; second, he
may be smashed
against a rock ;
third, he may get
ahead of the aval-
ancheand the wind
which it causes
will kill him. More
people are killed
every year in Swit-
zerland by the
wind of an avalan-
li che than by the
' avalanches them-
selvi
No'
ii fora\alanche-., I 11
avalanche time-
see, going with
the avalanche you
are out of the
wind, then the fins
on my machine
keepyoufrom sink-
ing in the snow, and if you strike a rock
the wheels revolve and send you up into
the air, where, after a most delightful
flight, steadied by the patent fins I have
spoken of, you join the avalanche
i lower down. I know of nothing more
exhilarating than going eleven miles in
two minutes and sixteen seconds.
When the avalanche quits business at
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66
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
the bottom, your momentum carriesyou
out of it until you strike some path, and
then you cycle along as any ordinary
man would on any ordinary wheel. I
intend to get up avalanche parties for
Switzerland next summer, and we
would be very glad to have you join
There was a deep silence after John
W. Simpson had concluded. I mopped machine-
brow and
thought deeply for
a while ; then I
said to the man
who sat next
Simpson, Lap-
thorn Davis by
name ;
" I suppose you
have been avalan-
ching with your
friend also ? "
"No," said Da-
vis with a sigh;
" I'm afraid 1 am
rather a reckless
person, and tame,
plain ordinary av-
alanche cycling,
such as my friend
Simpson delights
in, has few attrac-
tions for me. I
have been practis-
ingwith my aquat-
ic bicycle, which
has quite justified
all the expecta-
tions I had of it."
' Dear me,"
two wheels could be made on somewhat
similar lines. I accordingly ordered two
gigantic pneumatic tires, a foot and a
half through. 1 had these fitted on my
wheel and practised for a while on a
pond at home in a bathing suit until 1
got thorough control of my machine.
" Do you mean to say you venture
he surface of the water with that
lo you keep afloat ?
Doesn't it turn
!aid 1,
what
is an aquatic bicy*
cle?"
"Well, perhaps
you have been over
1 Ha'
md hai
V roller
e seen the
steamer, the Ernest Basin, invented
and built by an engineer of that name.
As doubtless you know, it goes on six
wheels, which are simply exaggerated
pneumatic tires made of steel. There
are three on each side, and Sir Edward
Reed says that he believes this wheeled
boat will mark an era in steam naviga-
tion. It struck me that a bicycle on
"Yes, it is a lit-
tle apt to do that
until you get ac-
customed to it. Of
course you turn
the wheel toward
the direction you
are falling and by
and by you go
along on the sur-
face of the water
as if you were on a
smooth road. Of
course I don't ad-
vise anyone to
practice in an or-
dinary suit, but
even then there is
little danger, be-
cause the two
~N wheels form life
~~^ preservers when
the machine goes
over. At first I
intended to take
off these huge cov-
ers whenl was Cy-
cling along the
road, but after 1
found they made
the machine very
easy riding I
didn't trouble to remove them, but ran
along the road until I came to a canal
or a river and then took to the water,
coming out on the road again when I
got tired of aquatic travelling."
" But can you get up any speed on
that machine ? "
"That is just the trouble. As my
wheel is now constructed, you can't go
very fast on the water, but I think that
Digiliz
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THREE EXPERT CYCLISTS
67
might be easily remedied by sort of fin-
shaped paddles, like my friend has on
his avalanche bike ; still, it was not for
smooth water I wanted it. You see,
there are a great many cataracts in
Switzerland, of which, owing to their
situation, it is impossible to get a com-
plete view. My pleasure consisted in
going over the cataracts."
" Good gracious ! " I ejaculated.
" It is well to have a good water-
proof on if you are particular about
getting wet. After practising on the
lakes of Switzerland until I had full
control over my machine,- -I took the
train up the Goschenen, and from there
went to Andermatt and started down
the Reuss, which as you know is a very
turbulent stream. 1 found a good deal
of difficulty in keeping upright, espe-
cially in such turns as when we dashed
under the Devil's bridge, but it is safe
enough if you keep your head and don't
get excited. You bounced up into the
air a good deal when you strike the
rocks, as my friend does when coming
down an avalanche, but on the whole
it forms a very pleasurable trip to start
with. Then I tackled my first fall, the
Handeck on the Grimsell pass. It is
hardly possible, except from the top to
obtain a good view of this fall, but as
you go over it on the bike you get an
excellent idea of the cataract by simply
turning your head as you go down,
taking care, however, to strike fair at
the bottom. After that I went over the
Cries pass and did the Tosa river.
The Tosa falls are 470 feet high and
85 feet wide ; that is a trip worth doing,
but you ought to look over your
machine very closely before you start
it ; be sure there are no punctures in
the big cover, and tighten up the
screws a bit. I have no patience with
cyclists who are careless about their
machines when taking a trip like this."
"Then you got safely over the
Tosa?" I ventured.
"O, certainly, several times. The
last time I went over backward so as
to get a better view of the falls as I
went down, but this is a very dangerous
experiment, and I do not recommend it
to any one but experts. Still, you do
get a much better knowledge of the
falls, and it is preferable to craning
your neck round as you have to do
when you descend face forward. But
it has its drawbacks, because when
you get down to the turmoil at the bot-
tom and have to circle round and turn
your bike, the situation presents many
difficulties which I would not advise an
amateur to encounter. I intend to do
Niagara when I reach home, but won't
try it backward at first."
Again there was deep silence in the
railway compartment, and it was some
moments before I could command my
voice sufRciently to make myself intel-
ligible. I looked at the third man,
George Washington Verity, he said his
name was. He said :
' ' Of course, if I had not seen my two
comrades do what they say they have
done, I might have some difficulty in
believing their narrative."
" O, no," I said ; " truth is stranger
than fiction, especially in bicycling, as
your two comrades bear witness. I
have no difficulty in believing every
word they say, but that perhaps is be-
cause I have been living in Switzer-
land, and feel particularly robust. In
my ordinary state of health I don't
know that I could have swallowed the
avalanche, even when washed down by
the Tosa falls. But have you had no
adventures on your cycle, Mr. Verity ? "
" No," he replied, " not one; that is,
not one worth speaking of, I kept to
the ordinary roads, and did the plain
everyday cycling. I did have a little
excitement coming down the Stelvio
pass. Perhaps you know that road,
the highest pass in Europe. It runs
between Italy and the Tyrol."
" Yes, I have been over it."
"Then you know on the Tyrol side
how the road zigzags down, and how
frightfully steep it is. At the spot
where the man threw his wife over you
are doubtless aware there is a sheer
cliff a mile deep. I resolved to cycle
down the Stelvto pass, and in order
that this might be done in safety I
bought a tree from a wood cutter up
at the top and tied it with a rope to
the back part of my bicycle, SO that
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68
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
it might act as a brake and a di
I went down the steep incline."
' ' I have heard
of such a thing \
being done," 1
said, glad to be
on familiar
ground once
"Yes, it is a
very old device.
You hitch the
rope round the
butt end of the
tree and let the
branches scrape
al ong the groun d .
Unfortunately
there had fallen
a little snow, and
the night before
there had been
a sharp frost ;
so, besides being
steep, the road
was exceedinifly
slippery. By and
by, to my horror,
I found the tree
was chasing me,
butt forward, and
instead of acting
as a drag on my
wheel, I had to
pedal like one
demented to keep
clear of it. There
was no going to
one side and get-
ting out of its
way, because,
you see, I was
tied to it with a
rope, and my
only salvation
was to keep
ahead of it. 1
thought I was
going tosucceed,
and did succeed ^ >
until we came to
that sharp turn-
tree struck against the granite rock and
bounced over, dragging me and the
bicycle after
it."
"Su fTeriag
Peter I" I cried,
"what a situ-
- atioo [ Nothing
but
nile of
mg ;
where
the Waloon committed his murder.
There, to my horror, the trunk of the
with the branches
clear air between
you and the bot-
tom of the gran*
ite cliff ! "
"Exactly,"
said Geo rge
Washington, "I
see you know the
spot. Now it
takesa good deal
longer to drop a
mile than most
people think it
does, and I be-
lieve, in fiction,
that a man in
such a position
spends the time
in going over all
his past deeds,
especially those
of a sinful na-
ture. 1 knew
when I started
there would not
be time enough
for me to con
over all the evil
I had done dur-
ing my short life ;
so I abandoned
the attempt, and
thought instead
of how 1 could
best save my bi-
cycle, which was
a new machine. I
left the saddle,
climbed down the
rope, and took
up a position on
the butt end of
the tree, which
was going down
beneath ; so I
thought that if I could keep it in this
Google
WITH THE COMING OF SPRING
position the branches would act as a
series of spring's, whereas, if it turaed
and went down butt first, I should very
likely get an arm broken, besides
wrecking an expensive wheel, on
which, unfortunately, there was no ac-
ddent insurance. 1 resolved 1 would
never travel in Switzerland agfain with-
out insuring my bike. I found that by
swiogpng my body this way and that,
1 could keep the tree in the perpendic-
ular ; so, pulling on the rope, I got
the bicycle down to me, and tied it to
a branch so that it would not flop
about. I shall never forget the sick-
ening sensation with which we reached
the bottom. I had much trouble in
hanging on to the butt of the tree when
we struck, though my arms were clasp-
ed tightly round it. The branches act-
ed just as I thought they would, and
the next instant we had taken a great
leap upward again. The tree hopped
like a gigantic frog down the valley
for about three-quarters of a mile, or
perhaps, to be strictly accurate, be-
tween half a mile and three-quarters,
and, then subsiding, it dumped me
gently into the torrent which flows at
the bottom of the gigantic clifl'. I was
unhurt, but I regret to say that the
handle-bar of my machine was bent a
little and one of the pedals was knock-
ed askew. However, these little ac-
cidents are bound to occur to a man
who does much wheeling."
The train coming to a standstill at
this point, I asked the boys if they had
any more adventures, and they replied
that they had only just begun, and had
told me merely the commonplace oc-
currences which had befallen them.
This being the case, I shook hands
with the three of them, and sought an-
other carriage. One sometimes gets
enough of information in an hour to
last him several weeks, and I thought
it better not to overcrowd my mind by
stuffing into it any more knowledge ac-
quired from the three truthful bicyclers.
W"
WITH THE COMING OF SPRING.
/'HEN Spring comes into my swamp,
Soft-footed as any fawn.
The poplars blow to green
Like the lift of a magic dawn.
The alders, brown and bent.
Stir at her coming, too.
And toss their catkin blossoms
Up, and against the blue.
When Spring comes into my swamp.
Music and joy are rife ;
The frogs come out to greet her,
Each with his stiver fife :
AH day, in the pale, green shadows,
All night, beneath the moon
They pipe to the Princess May-time,
And black-birds know the tune.
When Spring comes into my heart,
The thoughts start fifing again ;
The gladness wakes in my blood,
The magic wakes in my pen.
Theodore Roberts.
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q^HE Kins oi ThuU had a cup
^ From whidi he ever toed to lufv
A aoble flas:ont
lo hisfh relief on either shield
A dreadful combat was lerealed
Where doug^hty knights their falchions wield
Against a dragon I
Andf oh, it was a fearsome beast!
Alive, ft measured rods at least I
Twould make you gulp, surcl
Each eye was fitted with a jewel.
The Thing could almost see the duet.
And, oh, its glance was deadly cruel,
A trick of sculpture!
So fiercely showed the knotted claws.
The spiky teeth, the horrid jaws.
The scales so sheeny;
So grandly strode each warring knight.
Each link of maillet graved aright
You would have thought the goldsmith bright
A new Cellini.
For he had breathed the combafs rage.
And fixed upon his golden page
Each living gesture.
And, then, to prove a milder art —
No doubt the work was from his heart —
The man had chosen to impart
A leafy tressurcl
But that is neither here nor there 1
Tis not for us to tell his care
Who did the carving.
7° DigilizedbyGoOglC
THE KING'S FLAGON
Perhftps he waa a handionie blade.
The pet of matvon and of maid;
Perhaps tfie wretch was never paid
And died a-starv)n;l
n.
That as it may I The King set store
Upon the cup for something; more
llian art or mintagie;
For Lore and Death did there combine
To diildfy the sharpest wincf
And make the dullest liquor shine
A radiant vintage 1
It stood to him for all the bliss
"Hiat ceremtMiious monarehs miss,
Omstrained by fashion;
Twas given to him by his spouse.
And though a servile world allows
A kins: some scope, he kept his vows
W^ith loyal passion.
The miiistrels sang her winsome grace.
The beauty of her form and face.
Her hair so Titian;
Her eyes full orbed and dewy bright,
Her t^y lianda and lily white.
Her twinkling footstep fairy light.
Yet quite patrician!
All this and more was in their lays.
And Thul^ paid them for thdr praise
In brave largesses;
And in a world, with hatred rife.
The Kins: of Thul^ loved his wife.
And loved her truly all her life
And her caresses!
And ever, at the evening hour.
The flagon plenished in her bower,
The monarch sought her;
She kissed the cup for him to quaff,
He kissed his sweetheart with a laugh.
Then drained the posset to the draff
As it were water!
Such was their wont until the war
Renwred him to a distant shore
And much aff rayed her ;
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
For he was brave ax he wai true.
And in the van his pennon flew,
So much his anxious mitiress knew
Of her CrusatUr.
But one dark day a herald sped
To speak ttte news "The Kbig is dead I
Alack to hear iti
I got it in the Cairo mart;
The bowyer said a Paythan dart
Had found the monarch's mighty heart
And loosed his spiritl"
A lily seared by winter's touch,
A cushat in the falcon's cluteli.
So was tier sorrow j
The stricken lady made no moan.
She bore a mortal gfrief alone.
And, in her bower, they found her prone
Upon the morrow I
E'en while her funeral dirges rt^Ied
Into the courtyard caracokd
The King's Esquire t
"God save the Queen I " be louted low.
"The King of Thul^ bids her know
He lives and vanquishes his foe
With carnage dire I"
Thus, though the bruh was proven false
The lady slept among ttie vaults
And mural brasses;
Her beauty, marbled on her tomlv
Shone sadly in the abbey gloom
Rfidst holy chants and censer's fume
And solemn masses.
IV.
And far away midst war's alarm
Tlie tidings steeled the monarch's arm
To vengeful madness:
And pondering his Queen's demise.
Black fancies brooded in his eyes
And craved a bloody sacrifice
Unto his sadness.
But when, at length, the King returned
And sought the tomb and her inumed.
He rued his folly:
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THE KING'S FLAGON
For gatingf on Iwr hallowed rot
The p^n was softened in his breast
And chastened g^rief his heart oppressed
And melancholy.
And ever at the evening; hour
He offered in her lonely bower
A Pater Noster.
The cup, her sweetest souvenir.
Oft showed the traces of a tear
And he would pray, though none migfht hear
He had not lost her.
And when, at last, he came to die.
He bade his courtiers lay him nigfh
The cup he treasured.
"Now fill it to the briml" he said.
"I drink to her ere I be sped.
And thouffh the years have been as lead,
'Twas God who measured 1"
"I drink to her in realms above I
My Queea, my wife, my only love 1"
Nauvht further said he.
For having drunk his loyal toast,
This faithful King gave up the ehost
And passed unto the Heavenly Host
And to his lady.
Franklin Gaxfafay.
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS.*
BY ERLE CROMER.
THE old shoebox buggy stopped rat-
tling when it got into the long
shadow of the log shanty on the barley-
stubbte, but it soon began to squeak
worse than ever. It was evident the
old man would never get out feet first
unless he climbed over the cracked
dashboard and let himself down easy
by the white tail of the old mare —
whenever it stopped switching. He
thought the way he got in was better,
however, and began to ease himself out
that way, like a cat coming out of an
apple-tree. Suddenly the shanty door
opened, a deep voice called ' ' Caleb ! "
in a tone chock-full of admonition —
and he hung on. Then came a. swirl
of dress goods over the parched grass,
and in three seconds a massive gray
wrapper stood by the front wheel. A
pair of black cuffs went up about on a
level with a black straw hat tied into a
poke with black strings over black
hair ; under which a pair of dark-
circled eyes and a heavy upper lip
seemed to have it all their own way in
a look of austere, almost Roman be-
nignity. It was the Widow Fal-
coner.
"Jist let yourself right plumb go,
Caleb," she said in a tone of emer-
gency. " The idee o' you with your
rheumatiz a-tryin' to git out of a buggy
alone 1 "
"Yes, Nervy," squeaked little Caleb,
dangling one greenish trouser leg to
find the foot-rest below ; when clutch !
went one black culf on to his dusty
shoulder, the other one at his knee,
and the whole tottlish concern, except
the buggy-box itself, fell into the
widow's arms. Now it was not the
first time Caleb Tooze had felt the
widow's gladiator muscles in contact
with his anatomy ; but it seemed to
him by the time he got to the grass at
her feet that Saturday evening as if
she had never felt him with such
searching rigor before. Of course, he
was pretty dusty, as she said ; yet she
began to manipulate his stubby frame
as if she had been a masseur and he a
crippled athlete ; but then he hadn't
been to town for a year, and he
wouldn't need the "good coat" again
for another one at leasL
" Now, Caleb," she said in a tone of
absolute dictation, "when you git
your supper you go right straight to
bed. The table's ready sot an' Pen-
see'll pour the tea ; but she ain't to
read to you to-night, not a word. I
put the bricks in the oven, fer I know-
ed you'd be fetchin' a cold back with
you on to your rheumatiz, an' dear
knows, as I say, a cold in summer-
time's worse'n a mortgage on a poor
farm ; it never let's go. How's your
head now, Caleb?" as she stroked
back the stray hairs from his forehead.
" Pretty dang bad, Nervy. Kind o'
aches clear across the top — "
" Kind o' down over the eyes, too,
like a soggy, wet mornin' in harvest,"
suggested the widow as she pushed
back the old man's head and glared
down into his little eyes, " Yes, I
know. Caleb, rheumatiz is like new
lye on does. It gits in and eats, and
all the king's horses can't git it out.
It's terrible."
" Terble !" squeaked Caleb. "That's
what all the alminicks says an' I heerd
• " The Widow of Mums ' is a study in rural Ontario life. The chief characters are : Ibe
Widow Falconer, ambitious and cra.ftv ; her two children, Molly and Peart ; Rudj^e Moss, a
bulky and innocent farmer ; Pensee Vale, the iichool-leaclier i and miserly old Caleb Tooze.
upon whose wealth Widow Falconer hopes to reeonstmi't the fortunes of her family. The
story Is an oddity in Canadian lileralure, and ii from (he pen of a young; Canadian of much
promise. It will run Ihroug^h six numbers.; — Editor.
74
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS
75
a fellow only this afternoon on the
markit "
"'Bout it flyio' to the head," ioter*
nipted the widow. " My land yes,
like a wild Injun ! Caleb! " she added
sternly, "you'll have to make this your
last trip to town. We can't 'ford to
have you commit tin' sooicide like this.
There, you better go on in to Pensee
now."
" 1 tell you. Miss Vale," with a
superb poise of her right black cuff as
she turned to a slender red-robed
figure in the doorway, " none so seein'
as them that will see. Poor Caleb I he's
shrinkin' like a gansy in the wash.
What a turkey-raffle we be in this life
anyhow when it's which an' tother to
see who'll be grabbed next."
" But land ! " she ejaculated, seizing
her ponderous skirt a.s she made one
majestic stride to the buggy, " here I
be talkin' to you an' Caleb like I do to
my own Molly an' Pearty to hum ; when
the dear knows you're both childern,
sech lonely, innocent betn's as you be
too with no one to mother yous, an'
this bein' your first school, Pensee, an'
the first girl we ever had into it ; why,
it's a shame, as I say, an' it ud be a
sin at our very doors if anything wuz
to happen to Caleb livin' here alone as
he does with log-heaps most into his
back door. ,Now don't forgit the
bricks, Caleb," she added sternly,
"you see he minds 'em, Pensee; but
'e mustn't set up late. Whoa, Fanny,
whoa ! why I declare if the sun ain't
clear down an' me an' Molly with six
cows to milk ! Good-night, Pensee.
Caleb "
The old man turned on the thresh-
old.
" Now don't forgit the bricks in the
oven," she said impressively, and set
her foot on the step. One black cufF
on the dash, the other on the seat, she
lifted her massive frame into poise ;
the buggy lurched like a ship in a
storm ; she swung superbly into the
seat ; the springs sank, and too full
almost to rattle the buggy turned and
followed the gray mare across the
stubble into the lane.
As she turned over the bridge at the
road the widow could see at a single
sweeping glance in the sober light of
the summer evening the whole of
Mums ; from the drab school and
white church at the jog to the left, to
the .south woods and fields of tasseling
corn, with snug houses and barns,
along the concession clear to the solid
wall of the Canada Company woods
under the yellow west. She didn't
own it all. If she had she might not
have been quite so careful over Caleb
Tooze and his ride to town that Satur-
day afternoon. If she hadn't been
second cousin to Caleb she might not
have owned the big square house with
the green shutters behind the maples
next form up ; and Caleb might not
have borrowed her old shoebox buggy
to ride to town.
It took the old mare a good while to
jog across Caleb Tooze's two hundred ;
but she was long through her oats and
down to grass in the quince-orchard
that night before the widow went to
sleep. That Saturday afternoon and
that ride to town had been a conundrum
to the widow. She liked conundrums ;
but if she could have solved this one
by an examination of bachelor Caleb
Tooze's anatomy she would have kept
him in his dooryard brushing dust from
his "good coat" till it got so dark he
couldn't tell it from the grass. Vet
she knew as well as she knew most
other things of importance that tran-
spired outside her line fences that, some-
where within the limits of the old man's
greenish homespun when she lifted him
out of the buggy that evening, was the
reason of that ride to town on the last
Saturday of August, 1884 ; also the
key to the riddle that had kept her
generous soul on the rack now about
the eighth new moon.
That night two men, one with an
axe the other with a lantern, sat on the
widow's line fence at the rear of the
corn field on Caleb Tooze's. The dog
climbed it and started on a trip into
the corn. The big slashing of log-
heaps behind Caleb's shanty was still.
Caleb's end windows with green blinds
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76
gleamed along the front of it. The
few katydids in the bush back of the
log-heaps stopped screeching whenever
the dog snuffed and rustled back near
the edge of the corn.
"Guess there ain't been no coon in
yet, Peart," said a deep voice after a
prolonged silence. The speaker, who
was squatted heavily with his boot-
heels clenched on the third rail down,
held out his axe at arm's length. "Put
yer lantern on, Peart," he said. "Then
you kin kick as often as you like, an' if
you don't kick off the lantern with
your arms folded I'll bet 1 don't wobble
the axe as long as you tech it."
Peart, reclining lightly at the corner
of Ihepanelmerelygrunted for response.
He was not in kicking mood that night.
If he had been, Rudge Moss, his six-
foot chum who could stand in a half
bushel and shoulder a bag of wheat
with his teeth, need not have challenged
him twice. Peart was something of a
wildcat in both build and temper.
Rudge was a bear in physique. United
they were as capable a team as could
have been found in that part of South
Ontario between Erie and St. Clair.
Divided they had never been as yet.
Rudge never expected they would be ;
for he was the most guileless, unsus-
pecting nature in Mums. Peart some-
times vaguely surmised that if matters
ever did come to such a state of rupture
his best hold would be either to trip
Rudge flat on his back with one foot,
or use both in getting out of range.
Rudge Moss had never been farther
than Detroit in his life. He never
wanted to be, except to make one trip
to Niagara Falls. He liked to stay
round where he could see the marks of
his hands, and he had left a good
many on Mums, for there had not been
a logging-bee, a bam-raising or a pond-
scraping in ten years on the Mums con-
cession that he had failed to attend. He
was ready to go to as many more before
he should settle down to marry some
able-bodied girl who could stand as
much sunlight as he could without
writing poems about it. Rudge was a
worker. He had rather chop a cord of
wood than play a game of cards.
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Peart Falconer was different. He
could do more things with a machine
or a team of horses than Rudge could
dream about. But a farm was no
paradise to him. He hated farming.
Peart had always been an omnivorous
reader ; not of dime novels nor of any
worse books than he had chanced to
pick up about the house during the
years his mother boarded the school-
teachers. Byron's Poems and the His-
tory of Canada more than anything
else. As far as the latter was con-
cerned he knew Wolfe, Mackenzie and
Tecumseh better than Lord Durham.
When a lad at the drab school he would
permit no boy able to spell cat to be
anything but a rebel or a patriot, a
Frenchman or an Englishman, a Yan-
kee or a Canuck, as the humour suit-
ed him. He was a born leader of
other boys, and personated both Wolfe
and Mackenzie in the schoolyard with-
out troubling himself at all over the
dramatic distinctions. Both, to his
imagination, were heroes fighting
against long-established tyranny. He
always wanted the best snowballs r,
wrestler or boxer to champion the op-
posite. He always insisted upon Rudge
Moss, in spite of his loyalist affinities,
for MontcaJm ; and, whenever the north
wind heaped the snow higher than the
school fence he set alt the boys to work
with shovels and corn baskets piling it
higher and steeper. Fifty pails of
water over the top and a keen starlit
night made the precipice a glare of ice.
The next day at the noon-spelt was
fought the historic battle of the Plains
of Abraham. Handsleighs along the
foot of the embankment served for a
flotilla on the great river, from the first
of which, amid the rapt stillness of the
girls looking on, Peart would declaim
with tragic emphasis and bared head
the famous verse ending with " The
paths of glory lead but to the grave,"
always varying the equally famous
postlude of the great chieftain thus —
"Gentlemen, I would rather be the
author of that poem than take Quebec,
if the gentlemen on the height are
cowards." Then would begin the
ascent; the battle followed soon, the
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS
77
dramatic denouement of which never
foiled to be a duel and a wrestle be-
tween Wolfe and Montcalm on the
verge, climaxed by both locked in each
other's arms hurtling headlong to the
pile of soft snow beneath wher^, with
ordinaries and dippers of water to com-
mand, they simultaneously gasped out
their lives.
These were the diversions of school-
days. Rudge and Peart never took
star parts in military dramas again ;
but often at night in the haymow after
a coon hunt, or on a wet day at a bee,
Rudge, with many others, had listened
while Peart, with flashing eye and
struck pose, told the story of Queens-
ton Heights or Moraviantown. Peart
never failed to deliver a special eulogy
on Tecumseh, " the Indian brave,
whose people once owned a continent,
shedding his blood to keep Canada for
Canadians." Rudge always led in
the applause. He never understood
the military rapture of his boon com-
panion, but he admired it.
Latterly, however, Peart had begun
to take less and less interest in these
glowing recitals. He became taciturn,
moody and reclusive, fond of little com-
pany hut Rudge, fonder still of his own,
in the forest or behind his favourite
team of iron-greys. Mums had passed
into humdrum for him. He was ready
on any reasonable pretext to shake the
dust of it from his feet forever.
That late August night Peart was
more restless than usual. Rudge knew
it ; but he was more ignorant of the
reason than he was of the whereabouts
of the coon Collie was trying to track
in the com. He was absorbed in that.
Peart Falconer wouldn't have ran ten
rods after a coon that night if the corn-
field had been full of them.
Still the dog rustled in the com, and
Rudge continued to listen ; when sud-
denly a narrow oblong of light, broken
by the dark, slight figure of someone,
appeared between Caleb Tooze's win-
dows.
" Hum ! " grunted Rudge. "Guess
Pensee's sett'n up 'th Gale t'night.
Haint a bad little figger — is she, Peart ?
Time she was gitt'n home, though, or
she'll git 'er feet wet. I mind maw
speakin' to 'er 'bout that this aft'noon
'fore she started out. Guess she's bin
keepin' shanty for Cale white he was
'way to town. Wonder why the ol'
man wouldn* leave the house alone ?
Mus' be a pile 'o money in it. Peart,
hey ? Rich ol' miser, ain't 'e ? Pshaw I
that dog's a long time gitt'n on trail."
Rudge was already so intent again
on the movements of the dog that he
failed to notice Peart, who had sprung
off the fence and now paced restlessly
up and down along the narrow strip of
blue-grass at the edge of the corn.
"Here, Collie," shouted Rudge as
the dog pulTed sopping out of the corn
and flopped himself in the fence corner
like a side of pork, "You git in there
agin. George! anybody ud think you
had the azma the way you snort. Hit
'im a kick. Peart. 1 wonder if there is
a coon in here anyhow,"
The dog rustled back. Peart leaned
over the fence looking away into the
straggled forest behind Rudge where
the katydids were.
" S say 1 " whistled Rudge,
whopping his big bulk about so sud-
denly on the rail that the fence shook
five panels each way, " You're gitt'n'
the mumps I guess. Well, if I knowed
haf as much 'bout Can'dy as you I'd
see more of it'n Mums 'fore next 24th
o' May. Pensee says yuh know more
'bout C'najun hist'ry now 'n she ever
'xpec's to ; an' she's no commoner.
Say she is a neat figger, though, aint
she Peart ? Tell yuh 'taint ever' man's
door she'd darken that way neither.
Seems kin' o' queer, though, she's suh
free 'th ol' Cale when she's suh shy 'th
rest uv us. Pshaw I 'f I had your ed-
di cation — "
"You wouldn't be a reckless fool
that reads books and can't pay his
debts," was the gloomy rejoinder.
" Pshaw! Go easy now. A man 'th
a head like you got aint no right to say
'e's a fool. 'Taint read'n books put
yuh in debt."
' ' When your folks put money in the
bank, while we can't keep up the
interest on a mortgage," broke in
Peart tersely. "When the good crops
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
come on your place and the weeds on
ours. When you sit together on winter
nights round the same fire and think
one another's thoughts ; and we sit
apart. My mother hatches expecta-
tions. I read books. Molly can't
fathom us. She's honest."
" Yuh can put that 'n your Bible an'
read it, yuh bet," replied Rudge prompt-
ly. " Her name 's Falc'ner too, same
as yours."
" And my mother's," came the
ironical rejoinder, "the woman who
plays vulture to Caleb Tooze, ready
for the last twitch," he added bit-
terly. " It's fifteen years now since
she's rented this place year by year.
Two hundred a year puts three thou-
sand in Caleb Tooze's possession some-
where ; for all he eats comes from us
and he wears the same clothes now he
wore when my father died. But for
every dollar we've paid him we've beg-
gared ourselves and piled up the mort-
gage ; we've made ourselves a nest of
deadbeats ; we go about from store to
store hunting credit ; we trade now at
the little crossroad shops in the suburbs
since the little self-respect we have left
won't permit us to go on the thorough-
fare. We despise industry and thrift.
Life 's a game. Better spend it gloat-
ing over the few threads left in an old
man's life than toiling to be honour-
able. 'Twas harder once ; easy now
since habit makes it. But the esteem-
ed relative will die soon. We're his
sole connexions. We expect to be his
heirs, my mother and I, to both land
and money. Therefore we cringe and
play spy. Bah I "
All which was delivered in so gloomy
a tone that Rudge could only split an
elm stump that stood in the fence cor-
ner into kindling for reply, Peart's
pessimism was as deep a puzzle to him
as his boyish military fervour used
to be.
" Peart," he said in a low voice, as
he peered through the corntops at the
shanty. "She's a neat figger, aint
she ? Yes, an' by George she's good !
She don't know it neither, or want
anybody else to."
"Modesty!" muttered Peart half
absently in reply, as he too looked
through the corntops at the narrow
oblong of light in the shanty. " Well,
better that than a bold face. But a
girl's eyes may tremble under their
lashes,, one way to please, another
way to madden. She pleases you \ she
maddens me. She thinks because a
man's a man, he's a conspirator against
her. She holds her womanhood against
all the world beside. Well, it's a big
world. She may need a man to help
her meet it some day."
"An' she's the kind a man 'ud go
through fire an' water to help, eh
Peart?" suggested Rudge, glad to get
his moody companion off on subjects of
chivalry.
"Whether she scorn's you or not
" Sure I " responded Rudge. "Say,
I'd fight fer a c'nary. George, that
dog's a long time. There, she's gone
agin," as a slight thud came from the
The conversation drifted on to fisti-
cuffs then, and from that to fighting in
general. Peart's views of militarism
were different from Rudge's. Rudge
thought a man should fight for his
country and its government, however
strong or weak it might be. He be-
lieved a Canadian was as good a fighter
as an Englishman, and therefore one
of the best in the world. Peart sniffed
at that. He didn't care what breed a
man was if his cause was just. Wo-
men had a good deal to do with war.
They should value their lovers' lives
more than the empty glory of their
deaths on a battlefield. He thought
women's love for men was very much
like their love for birds ; better the
dead skin of one on a hat than a live
one singing in a tree.
Rudge was about to make a spirited
reply on behalf of patriotism and wo-
man's rights when
Ouh — ouh — ouh ! half across the
cornfield came the smothered yelp of
the dog.
"Gol ! There 'e goes," shouted
Rudge, as he almost shoved the fence
down getting off. " S — ick 'im Collie,
s — sik, s— sik ! Here gimme the
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS
79
light. Peart. Hooraw ! S — sik, s —
sik !'■
Across the corn-headland he plunged
into the slashing-, just as the dog shot
across it like a cannon ball and, yelp on
'yelp, tore through the jampiles towards
the bush. Rudge didn't wait to see
whether Peart followed or not. That
coon wasleaving hot tracks behind him
across that slashing at the rate of
about a mile a minute. So was the dog.
So, as near as possible, was Rudge.
Round the jampiles, through the uuder-
bru.sh, over the logs, smashing limbs,
log trail or none, didn't care which,
but yelling s — sik ! s— sik ! at every
yelp of the dog fainter and fainter to-
wards the bush.
"Let him go!" muttered Peart as he
listened. "He'll have the thing treed,
the second time too likely, long enough
before I get there, and be as happy
over it as a girl in love. To-morrow
he'll go to Sunday school and read
verses. I'll go to the woods and say
Byron. We'll go driving together at
night. Ah ! we must play mask with
fine phrases — for when a man's mother
teaches him to be a knave he must
pick his way ; and so I wilt. Now let
evil fight my good. Let conscience
say which is worse ; that the money
we have sucked from our living and
our honesty to miser for Caleb Tooze
should be mine, and my just debts
begin to be paid ; or that I should con-
tinue to play rogue to honest men while
1 help my mother pray for the quick
death of our only relative by blood.
H'm ! 'Tis a heavy question. But it
must be settled — this night!"
The quick stroke of an axe across the
slashing roused Peart from his reverie.
He sprang into the corn.
Five minutes later he crouched on
the step of the shanty.
Caleb Tooze's shanty was as much
like the harem of a Sultan as he desired
it : nisty Fortune stove at one end,
bare table in the middle, bedstead in
one far corner the same colour as the
walnut cupboard in the other ; rickety
puncheon floor ; gray log walls with
clay in the chinks. The wind was his
most frequent visitor. Minerva Fal-
coner was next. Both came without
knock, for both were welcome. Pen-
see Vale, who was more welcome than
either, always knocked.
That Saturday night Caleb sat hunch-
ed over his knees in his favourite chair
with no back, near the stove ; one leg
over the other, one hand clutching his
stick, the other, shaking like a leaf,
on top of that. Caleb seemed to have
a good deal of life in his hands. Years
of neglect had stubbled his chin ; years
of self- consideration had wrinkled his
brow. During fifteen of these, ever
since the death of her husband, Miner-
va Falconer had ministered to Caleb's
domestic needs. He knew she expect-
ed the farm as soon as he was done
with it ; he expected her to get it.
That was as much practical benevo-
lence as Caleb had ever known ; until
Pensee Vale came to Mums and flung
a subdued radiance into the cobwebbed
nooks and crannies of his little exist-
ence that almost charmed the selfish-
ness clear out of it. That Saturday
she bad kept house while he went to
town. She didn't know why he had
insisted upon her doing so. He didn't
intend that she should, at present.
Having washed the supper-dishes,
Pensee sat in the stubby rocker by the
table, book at her elbow. She had the
face of a child. The shadow of beauty
lurked in it, fitfully revealed as the new
moon through clouds, obedient to the
timorous, undeveloped emotions with-
in. Dark eyes, with long, downward
lashes, enhanced the native pallor of
her features ; eyes whose full light of
resolution no one had ever seen, essen-
tially fugitive as yet. At times the
transcendent gleam of maidenhood
shone there, fearless in solitude or in
the presence of the old man. But the
touch of a finger sends the leaves of
the sensitive plant into coil, jealous of
their secret. Pensee shrank from soci-
ability. Of one fact she was supreme-
ly conscious : her maidenhood. Other
facts, equally great and cognate to
that she strove to ignore.
As far as Caleb Tooze was concern-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ed Pensee Vale and Minerva Falconer
were the only two women in the world.
He never forgot which was which.
Minerva didn't intend that he should.
She had been accustomed to consider
herself the sun about which Caleb per-
formed the tiny, gradually contracting'
orbit of his life. Some day there
would be a crash, and as far as she
knew astronomy only the sun would be
left.
But Caleb's orbit had become some-
what eccentric of late. The only per-
turbing element the widow could see
was Pensee Vale ; the child whom, as
far as inclinations went, she could have
absorbed into her life as the baobab
sucks the dew.
All that Saturday afternoon, during
his ride to town, in the lawyer's office,
and home again, Caleb Tooze had re-
volved in his mind the separate pictures
of these two women. He was doing it
still.
" Say, sis," he squeaked, as he poked
Pensee's foot with his cane and looked
over his shoulder at the door, "you
know Nervy Falc'ner. Well, she's a
wise gal, but — "
Caleb paused, clutched tremulously
at his coat-pocket and let his dry face
fry into a chuckle. Many years before
Caleb had a laugh in his face some-
where. That chuckle was the ghost of
it. He almost had to cough it up. But
he felt extremely jolly.
" Nervy's a wise gal," he went on,
" but it takes two to bust both sides of
a corn-shock to onct. Hee — bee —
hee!"
Caleb gave a nameless squirm to his
shrunken anatomy as he delivered this,
evidently quite pleased at having the
floor in the absence of Minerva.
" Takes two fer a lot o' things, sis,"
he chuckled on again, leaning forward
till his wizened head hung like a dead
flower on a stalk. His little eyes
gleamed like fireflies into the deep,
placid shadow of Pensee's.
"Twoferamarryin'sis. Huh? Hee
—hee— hee ! "
The old man drew back in sheer
ecstasy and hugged himself, throwing
up one foot and his cane almost as
high as his head. Then he settled
over his knees again.
"Two fer a bargin, sis," he went on
more soberly. " One to be, 'tother to
do. Mh — mh ! Don't matter to the
one 's long 's the other's left. Hah ?
Better git the bricks, sis," he jerked
abruptly, as he clapped his left heel on
to his right toe and pulled off a boot.
Pensee rose, and, taking a blanket
from the bed, removed the bricks from
the oven. Kneeling at the old man's
feet she pulled oflf his other boot while
he grabbed the stove- hearth. Then
she placed the bricks.
" An' when 'taint marryin' er buryin'
it's bornin'," went on the sage reflect-
ively. " Mh — mh !" absently, as his
scrawny fingers stroked the smooth
oval of her white chin. " Takes two
fer that, too. Poor little sis I Nev'
knowed your mother, did yeh ? "
Pensee looked wonderingly up into
the old man's face. She had never
known him so benevolently epigram-
matical as before.
" Father Caleb," she said, brushing
away a quick tear with the back of her
hand like any child, " you musn't
make me cry about the little mother.
Poor mother \ she didn't live long
enough to tell her only child what she
wanted her to do. And so Pensee
goes on teaching the children. After
all, sir, I guess if she knew it she'd be
pleased, wouldn't she ? "
Pensee's simple earnestness pleased
the old man. She was sitting artlessly
on the rough floor now, hands clasped
at her knee, gazing absently into the .
fire. It may have been the firelight
that flickered from her red wrapper on
to her chin and chased itself so deli-
cately up into her pale cheeks. The
old man saw it, and bending forward,
let his tremulous fingers wander into
her hair.
" Mh — mh ! " he chuckled on mur-
murously, " but it takes two fer a
marryin', sis. Better take the ol*
bach's advice, an' be one of 'em when
the time comes. Then yeh won't have
to set 'lone in a shanty when you're
old er teach other folkses' chillen for a
livin'. Mh — mh I "
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS
" Conscience 1 " murmured Pensee
with a faint smile, " I wonder what a
girl is, anyway. ' Marry,' says one.
' Marry not,' says another. Foolish
enough either way, says she. Mh I
Now if one had but a wise little
mother to ask, then mig'ht one find out.
For as I know my own name I know
two ways about a girl. One way she's
as natural and happy as a flower.
Another way — mh — h I Father Ca-
leb," looking up into the old man's
face, " I wonder if all girls when they
talk about getting married feel as light
as their words ? Then I think we
should be dolls and not girts ; wax, not
flesh and blood. For when I think
most deeply on love and marriage I
have most fear of something in nature
and self I know less of than the very
stars. No, no, Father Caleb," as she
sprang up and flinging both arms
round the old man's neck, kissed his
withered cheek, " Pensee Vale came to
Mums to teach the children — nothing
more; but to love them, and you."
" An' as sure as the rufs higher'n
the floor," said Caleb, as he caught
her hand, " the man's in Mums that'll
marry yeh."
" And as sure as 1 respect my own
true self, Father Caleb," replied Pensee
solemnly, " the prophecy neverll come
true."
Pensee's deep eyes shone with a rare
light ; the light that some day perhaps
must be their only safeguard against
bitterest tears. She went to the door,
pulled it slightly ajar and stood on the
threshold.
And all the while the old man craned
his neck and watched her, hungrily,
passionately.
Suddenly Pensee turned, as a dog
snuffed near the step, and with a quick
little laugh shut the door and sat down
io the stubby rocker by the table.
Without waiting for an invitation she
began to read.
It was Evangeline. The low, quick
creak of the rocker blended rhythmically
with the dreamy amble of the verse ;
and as Pensee read and rocked a sub-
dued light of quite childish absorption
came into her features.
"Bent like the l&bouring oar that ((Mis in the
surf of the ocean,
Bent but not broken by ag'c was the fortn of
the notary public — "
Caleb closed his eyes and shrank into
a heap over his knees as he listened to
the drowsy music. Suddenly the bark
of a dog sounded just west of the
shanty. He started.
"Mh!" he mumbled without opening
his eyes, "coonin', I guess. Peart Fal-
c'ner an' Rudge Moss likely ; it's
Rudge's dog anyhow. Mus' be gitt'n
'long cent' the R's then I guess ; Se'tem-
ber, 'Ctober, N'vember, 'Cember, Jany-
wary, March, Aprile. Mh — mh. All
good coon-months them. May an'
June's bes' fer marryin', I guess; any
of 'em's good fer the bornin'; haint
none of 'em ver' good fer buryin'.
Takes two fer that ; one of 'em don't
know — that's all right ; 'tother one's
left — that's all right too if she's happy
'long o' what's left. Mh — mh ! Go
ahead with yer yarn, sis. Don't sound
sub bad. 'T's like the way the ol'
mare used to canter on^e Injun trail,
over a cradle-knoll, under a lim'. Ker-
whollup, kerwhol — kerwh — "
Caleb's criticism, of the metre of
Evangeline died away into a low grunt-
ing. Pensee read on.
Presently she paused to listen.
Through the almost dead stillness of
the old shanty sounded the faint regu-
lar stroke of an axe. Soon a tree fell,
followed by the smothered yelp of a
dog. It seemed too still after that to
read.
Caleb's chair creaked. "It'sall right,
sis," he mumbled dreamily without
opening his eyes, " Nervy kin run this
place jes' long 'z she likes ; but she'll
never git the ole man out o' this shanty
not tell 'e's toted out ; an' when Cale
Tooze says not there aintno use hitch-
in' on a team. Kind o' thought onct
or twict I might pick up an' go over
to Nervy's fer the winter, hed such a
cold on to my rheumatiz she said. But
it's all right now — kerwhollup, ker-
wol — , kerwh — ."
His breath came regularly now with
half a grunt. A spider slid down from
a joist io the ceiling and began to ex-
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82
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
plore the bald spot oq Caleb's head.
He snored on. Pensee saw it and
smiled, closed her book, quietly fixed
the fire, pinned loosely an old shawl
from the bed about the old man's
" good coat " that he had worn to town
that day and silently tiptoed out.
As she stepped into the dewy ta%-
weed of the stubble she started and
almost dropped her book. She scarcely
dared look back at the corner of the
shanty, but trembling' she did. She
saw nothing but the dim outlines of
the log heaps; listened, only the faint,
far tap of the axe like the slow drip of
water into a pool. She glanced about ;
the lights of Mums were gone ; a star
or two hung above the dark shadow of
the woods ; alt the rest seemed flocking
into the great round deep above and
fading there into a wreath of white
She must have been near the road
when a swift figure glided from the log
heaps on to the doorstep of Caleb Tooze
and listened ; softly the door open-
ed, letting ou#a flood of light ; as softly
it closed again, shutting in the tall,
lithe form of Peart Falconer.
Peart crouched low ; one long arm
reached and gradually turned down the
light. Slowly the old bedstead faded
into the wall, the stove into a glim-
mering shadow, the gray head of the
old man into a faint blur.
One moment of suspense when Peart
Falconer's fingers crooked in the dark
and the hot blood burned his ears.
The chair creaked. He started back
crouching lower. The old man was
talking in his sleep.
"Mh— mh! Nervy's got her chillen ;
I got mine. Shanty's gitt'n pretty old.
Nervy '11 make sheephouse out of it
likely ; come een prit' handy fer sheep.
But 'z long 'z ther's any puncheons in
the floor an' any good in a writin'.
Nervy Falc'ner ain't goin' to git Gale
Tooze's money. Poor little sis ! Don'
nev' wanta quit teachin' ; nev' wanta
git married ; nev' wanta have no chil-
len 'cep' other folkses ? Mh — mh !
Over a cradle-knoll, under a lim',
kerwhollup! kerwhol — ! kerwh — ! ker
— 1 k— !"
The old man snored again. Easy
came and went his aged breath. Little
with all his dreaming dreamed he that
before him in the shadow of that hut
crouched one in whose young life there
strove like a demon, the spirit of evil ;
who but for those few broken words of
sleep had let his swift fingers execute
the crime that now lay strangling in
his soul.
The shanty was dark, but, as it were
a guardian angel in the gloom over the
old man's chair. Peart Falconer saw
the pale face of Pensee Vale with
its child-eyes and dark hair. That
money under the puncheon floor was
hers. The will was in the old man's
pocket. And if all the spirits of evil
had waited at his beck. Pearl Falconer
could not have laid a finger on either.
Side by side in his guilty consciousness
struggled the criminal desire and the
aspiration. It was the beginning of
The door opened letting in the cool
breath of the dew ; a star or two under
the doorjamb ; closed again. The old
man snored on ; alone.
To be Continued.
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A GALICIAN WEDDING.
A North-West Incident.
HE wanted to be married.
His name was Nikolai Szcheswa
Pschitzchisoffsni, which alone, one
would think, was sufficient to keep
him a bachelor.
He was a Galician ; the benevolent
Canadian Government, in its inscru-
table wisdom, had seen fit to invite
him to come over from his country of
serfdom to the land of freedom and
broad acres.
And Nikolai Szcheswa Pschitzchis-
ojfsni came ; and his path was a path
of roses and his entry like that of a
conqueror (for the pet hobby of the
Canadian Government at that time
happened to be the Galician Immigra-
tion Scheme), and Government officials
did pet him and gush exceedingly.
But other settlers, who had had the
misfortune not to be born in Galicia,
did not gush — ^oot much ; but they
said bad words and growled unpleas-
aatly as they saw tracts of Canadian
land converted into Galician settle-
ments.
Fort Sturgeon is in Alberta,
N.W.T., Canada: there is a Galician
settlement close to the Fort, and to
this settlement Nikolai came.
And there he took up land and did
his best to become a Canadian by mix-
ing only with his own people, speak-
ing'his own language, and clinging to
the ways and customs of his native
country. And, after his fashion, he
prospered, for if he made but little
money he spent nothing ; so he was
either hoarding his wealth or sending
it to friends in Galicia — which, of
course, was very creditableto him, and
opinion that a clergyman, being more
than a man, must first foe a manly
man. And the Reverend Bertram
Holcombe was a manly man, good at
all sports and games and never afraid
of cold and hardships while doing his
duty.
And people from other flocks than
the Church of England often came to
him for his ministrations.
To the Reverend Bertram Holcombe
came, one day, Nikolai Szcheswa
Pschitzchisoffsni.
He was dressed, after his wont, in
the usual uniform of the Galician peas-
ant, which consists of a collection of
loose, shapeless, more or less dirty-
looking garments, neutral tinted. Of
course, he wore a greasy sheepskin
coat with the wool inside ; and he
brought into the Reverend Bertram's
house the perfume of old Russia.
Nikolai had been more than three
years in Canada, and it was a remark-
able fact that he could speak English
fairly well ; so, after a few moments,
during which he shuffled his feet and
twirled his high fur cap, he stam-
" Melinka, Papa, (little father), you
marry me? Eh? Yes?" And he
smiled an expansive smile.
"Certainly," replied Mr. Holcombe.
" Have you a marriage license ? Paper
from Mr. Eraser, you know, paper for
marrying ? "
"Oh, yes — paper — I got good paper,
good for marry anybody ! " and he
drew from some mysterious recess in
his blouse a crumpled piece of paper.
Reverend Bertram unfolded it
eminently satisfactory to the people of and found to his surprise that it was
Canada.
Now there was at the Fort a Church
of England missionary, who would
have satisfied Amyas Leigh.
Read your "Westward Ho ! " and
you will find that Amyas Leigh was of
the certificate of the death of one
Aniska, wife of Nikolai Szcheswa
Pschitzchisoffsni.
And it was dated only three months
back.
" I am afraid that this paper will not
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84
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
be enough," said the parsoo. "This
is not a marriage license ; this is a cer-
tificate of the death of your wife."
" Oh, yes," politely but firmly per-
sisted Nikolai. "That all the same
good for marry. She dead, very dead ;
been dead longtime. I can marry any
peoples."
"Now look here; you don't un-
derstand. No doubt your wife is
dead ; but before you can marry
again you must get a marriage license
from Mr. Fraser, a paper with your
name and the name of the lady you are
going to marry written upon it. You
pay Mr. Fraser two dollars for the
paper and then come here with the lady,
and then we can arrange about the
wedding."
"Ah, but I have not woman's name.
How. do then?"
" Well, you can find out that, I sup-
pose. Where is the lady ? "
And then Nikolai told his artless lit-
tle tale, and it ran thus ;
At that time there was, on the way
from Galicia to Canada, a party of
Galician damsels who were destined to
become the wives of the pioneers who
had come out before them. This party
was daily expected to arrive at Fort
Sturgeon, and the wity Nikolai, think-
ink to get ahead of his fellows, had
struck upon the ingenious idea of hav-
ing the best chance and the first choice by
making arrangements for his marriage
before he saw his bride. For he was
determined that a bride he would have.
Then Mr. Holcombe took infinite
pains to explain to him what he would
have to do before there could be a suc-
cessor to'the late Mrs. Pschitzchisotfsni
— and, of all the preliminaries, the
choice of a wife appeared to Nikolai to
be the easiest and most simple.
A few days later Nikolai again pre-
sented himself before the Reverend
Bertram Holcombe. This time Nikolai
was accompanied by a sturdy, Galician
damsel, a hard-featured, strong-limb>
ed woman, evidently a worker and a
bearer of burdens.
The woman was dressed rather cur-
iously for a bride.
On her head was a coloured hand-
kerchief; her hair was uncombed, dusty
and somewhat straggly ; over a shape-
less blouse she wore a long, greasy,
sheepskin coat which reached to her
knees ; below this coat was to be seen
a pair of heavy boots, into which her
bare feet were thrust.
And this time Nikolai had provided
himself with the proper papers, so the
Reverend Bertram Holcombe married
them ; and at the conclusion of the
ceremony the newly-wedded pair knelt
and kissed the clergyman's hand, much
to his embarrassment.
Now, in the Northwest it is no un-
usual thing for the bridegroom to be
unable to pay a fee in cash ; often it is
paid in kind — flour, meat, or, perhaps.
So the Reverend Bertram was not
surprised to hear Nikolai say: "Me
poor man, poor chelevik ; Eurena, my
woman, poor woman; got no money."
The Reverend Bertram was used to
that formula, but the next thing Niko-
lai said was refreshingly novel.
" Dobre Papa (good father), give
me fifty cents and I pray for you some-
time."
And Nikolai got his fifty cents and
went off with his bride ; and after-
wards the Reverend Bertram Hol-
combe missed a valuable meerschaum
pipe.
I think Nikolai, the Galician, de-
serves to succeed in this country ; for
it is not every man who can secure, in
one day, fifty cents, a meerschaum
pipe — and a wife.
Basil C. d'Easum,
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CURRENT EVENTS ABROAD.
WE are assured with a certain smug
complacency that the Samoa
affair is not likely to cause a rupture
between the powers concerned. A
ioiot commission to consider the situa-
tion is on its way to the islands and
in nearly all these cases when time is
gained the outlook becomes peaceful.
The way is opened for a graceful re-
treat on someone's part and with a
little of the oil of compromise all
round, matters are got working again.
The conclusion will doubtless be that
the tripartite government of the islands
is a failure, and we shall probably see a
division of them among the three
powers. Germany has unquestionably
the largest interest in them, her pur-
chases from the islanders being $225,-
000 as compared with $22,000 by the
two other powers and her sales to them
are over one-half greater than the com-
bined sales of the other two. In all
conscience, therefore, Germany has
excellent reason for her interest in the
Samoans.
«
While, then, there is no danger of a
war among the great powers there has
been already the customary sprinkling
of blood on the altars of Empire.
Three gallant young officers and a
number of the unconsidered Jackies
have, in Kipling's phrase, salted Samoa
with their bones, and we may be sure
that in the slaughter of the enemy their
manes were appeased ten to one. We
read of the ships riding along shore
belching out death from their dread
sides on the offending villagers. I ven-
ture to say that most people are begin-
ning to make a wry face as they con-
tinue to readof these battues of savages,
the red detailsof whichhave been strung
through the press for months past.
Beginning with Omdurman, carried on
at Manila and, let us hope, wound up
at Apia, we have had in our mind's
eye the spectacle of savages being torn
and minced by machine guns and
shrapnel with each morning's issue of
the papers. It may all have been very
necessary. There is no doubt that the
rule of the Khalifa in the Soudan was
a perfect nightmare of horrors, and the
slaughter needed to bring it to an end
was like the amputation that saves a
life.
*
Indeed, in all the cases we are
furnished with excellent reasons why
the giant should have his meal of raw
meat and bloody bones. At Manila the
hecatomb is made necessary because
the ignorant savages cannot see that
the people who are raking them fore
and aft with grape and canister are the
best friends they have in the world.
They have no excuse for their benight-
ed condition, for President McKinley's
commission has assured them by pro-
clamation of the philanthropic spirit
that actuates the Americans and the
exceeding regret that fills their hearts
at being obliged to kill them. Aguin-
aldo and his Tagalos must necessarily
be profoundly interested in these pro-
clamations, but the first thing to strike
them would be that of the thing about
which they fight, namely, the desire of
the natives to be independent of foreign
rule, there is not one word. This is
rather strange, is it not? It is as if
two men should have a dispute about
the ownership of a horse and the one
who had possession should issue a
proclamation to the other telling him
how he worshipped justice, humanity,
honesty, and all the other virtues, and
how he hated tyranny and oppression,
but omitted to say anything about the
horse. If in their proclamation the
Americans assured the much-harassed
Filipinos that the question of their in-
dependence would in due time be left
to their own choice freely expressed,
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THE CA2VADIA.V MAGAZINE
the fighting would, we think,
It would require a professional casu-
ist to decide whether civilization has
done more harm than good among sav-
age people. The history of the slave
trade in Africa transcends in horror
and deviltry the utmost imagination of
man. The rule of most African chiefs
is a continual carnival of fiendish
cruelty, the extirpation of which
would be a gain to humanity, even
if whole tribes had to be blotted out
in the process. But there is another
side to the shield. Most people have
read Capt. Cook's voyages, and under
his guidance have re-discovered those
island paradises in the Pacific to whose
shores his ships brought anything but
health and peace. Capt. Cook was a
humane, large-hearted seaman, and,
no doubt, thought he was according
the islanders a boon in making them
known to the white world. Many of
these dots of territory in the ocean
could well have figured as the Islands
of the Blest, with their fervent skies,
fat soil, and inhabitants without a care,
and almost without an ache. Civiliza-
tion will not be pleased with her image
if she gathers it as reflected from these
once happy isles. T\ie fate of the
easy, indolent, merry, thoughtless
aborigines is one of the hideous of-
fences that she or her accompanying
brood has to answer for.
«
Stevenson, in his Vailima letters, tells
his friend Colvin of the tremendous
struggle he is having in clearing a
plantation for himself — how he fought
with the forest, and with its tropical
luxuriance it grew almost as fast as he
cut it down. How amused the natives
must have been to witness his exer-
tions ! They feasted daily on the abun-
dance that the wild, uncultivated forest
supplied, while hethe poor consumptive,
was hastening the end with his British
idea of having things shipshape, and
wiling for what nature in Samoa yields
without toil. Could two such races
ever be got to understand each other ?
The black man may respond that the
white man does not take up the burden
but puts it on him. When he subdues
the black man he sets him at work and
then the wonder is that before he had
the good fortune to meet with his
white friend he lived very much better
and did not have to work at all. This
is in accordance with the gospel of
work, which is the cardinal tenet in
the white man's creed.
»
It is enough to make the forebears
of Nicholas turn in their graves to see
him writing, or having written, a pretty
little note to the European press, thank-
ing everybody for the interest display-
ed in the coming Peace Congress at
the Hague. The suspicion that at-
taches to it has by no means been re-
moved, however. While the prepara-
tions for the Congress go on, Mr. Geo.
W. Steevens, the London MaiCs cor-
respondent, who is now in the East,
points out that simultaneously with the
preparations for the Congress there is
a corresponding activity in pushing
railway construction in Central Asia-
It will be remembered that a book en-
titled "The Russians at the Gates of
Herat," attracted a good deal of atten-
tion a few years ago. She has not as
yet got into the gates, but Mr. Stee-
vens declares the momentous moment
is at hand. He thinks that Russia
should be made fully aware that com-
ing to Herat means war, his view
being that the struggle might as well
come off at once as later. To the lay
mind the labyrinthine wilderness of
mountains that lie between Herat and
Quetta would seem to be defence
enough for Hindostan. In these de-
files would seem to be the place to
withstand an invading army. To go
out and meet him at Herat would be to
commit the blunder that Gen. Leslie
committed at Dunbar. Military opin-
ion is strongly, nevertheless, convinced
of the impolicy of allowing Herat to
be seized by Russia. The meaning of
their declarations is that so long as
Herat is in hands hostile to Russia, an
attack on India will be next to impos-
sible. It is the only point at which an
attack in great force could be prepar-
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CURRENT EVENTS ABROAD
ed. In the hands of the Ru
it is feared that it would be a centre of
intrigue and agitation of grievances at
the various native courts in India.
The position, indeed, seems to be that
England herself does not want to ad-
vance outside the lines of the Hindoo
Koosh, and yet objects to the occupa-
tion of Herat by a possible enemy.
«
Russia's alleged designs on India
are not the uppermost topic in the
British Isles just now. If we are to
be guided by the newspapers we must
conclude that what is called the crisis
in the church !s the engrossing theme
of the hour. Under the protecting
ie^s of Lord Halifax, head and front
of the society known as the English
Church Union, ritualism has become
bold. A recent service at St. Clem-
ent's, City Road, London, is thus de-
scribed : "Here there is the assump-
tion of vestments, there there is re-
moval ; here they are held up, there
they are let down ; here the stole, the
book, the altar are kissed. The clergy
bless the incense, they cense the altar,
they cense the elements, they cense
each other, they cense ■ the congre-
gation. Mysterious movements mark
the officiants. The celebrant glides to
the south of the altar, washes his fin-
gers, then glides to the centre ; then
suddenly faces the people with uplifted
hands, and as suddenly reverses his
position. Meanwhile the thurifer is
busy censing the deacon, the sub-
deacon, the servers or acolytes, the
choir and finally the people. Candles
are lighted. But the strangest thing
of all has yet to be mentioned. The
celebrant turns round and embraces
the deacon by placing his hands affec-
tionately on his shoulders ; the deacon
similarly embraces the sub-deacon, who
in turn embraces the server !"
«
Surely no honest-minded person will
pretend that these are not innovations
on the practice of the Church of Eng-
land. That they are offensive to the
great majority of Englishmen both in
and out of the church will scarcely be
denied. I am convinced that the
spiritual embracings noted above are
wholly foreign to the character of Eng-
lishmen, and it is not too sfrong to say
that they are repulsive to the national
mind. Auricular confession stands in
the same position. This is the innova-
tion of all others that will be most bit-
terly opposed, and, on the other hand,
most obstinately pressed. That it is
being pressed by the innovating clergy
may be seen by the declaration that at
one church, St. Bartholemew's, Brigh-
ton, ten thousand confessions were
heard in a single year. In the House
of Lords, in a recent debate, Lord Sal-
isbury said with regard to it : " It has
been injurious to the moral independ-
ence and virility of the nation to an ex-
tent to which probably it has been
given to no other institution to affect
the character of mankind." It is in
this aspect of it^its effect on a manly
character — that it must be regarded as
a national disaster if the custom of
auricular confession again became
general in England. If the people
have to choose between the confes-
sional boxes and disestablishment, it
is not hard to foretell on which the
choice will fall. A married priesthood
sitting in the confession box would be
both an abomination and a scandal.
•
The first County Council elections
have been held in Ireland. The voters
have exercised their privilege to the
full by electing those whose political
views pleased them best, aside from
every other consideration. In some
cases noble lords and landlords have
been elected but in a great many more
instances they have been rejected, while
insigniticent and unknown personages
of Nationalist proclivities have gone in
with tremendous majorities. Thosewho
expected any other result must be poli-
tical babes and sucklings. There is no
need to be concerned about Ireland.
It will be found that no very serious
national dangers flow from the County
Council, nor would they flow from an
Irish Parliament.
John A. E'wan.
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ON the night preceding his untimely
death at Windsor Castle, the late
Sir John Thompson delivered an ad-
dress; before the members of the Imper-
ial Institute, in which he endorsed the
proposal to lay an all-British cable
across the Pacific from Canada to Aus-
tralia, and stated that Canada was
ready to support it by a liberal subsidy.
That was on December nth, 1894.
But it was not until April, 1899 that a
definite announcement was made in the
Canadian Parliament, stating that Can-
ada was prepared to carry out her
share in this great work. Sir Wilfrid
Laurier has announced that Canada
will assume five-eighteenths of the cost,
which isestimated at $7,500,000, Sir
Charles Tupper, leader of the Opposi-
tion, has stated on the floor of the
House that he is in sympathy with the
Government's decision. As the British
Government has already signified that
it will assume tive-eighteenths, and as
there is reasonable assurance that the
Australian colonies will bear the other
eight-eighteenths, the project is now
assured. That a British cable across
the Pacific will be of great benefit to
the colonies thus connected, and to in-
ter-Imperial trade needs no proof and
no argument. Any person interested
will find a valuable article on the subject
on pp. 74-80 of Vol. VII. of The Cana-
dian MAGAZt\e.
«
The British people do not yet seem
convinced that the British Government
is the only one in the world worthy of
the name, or that if a resident of the
British Isles must emigrate, it should
be to one of the colonies. The British
emigration for the month of March
was as follows :
Canada, . - - - 1,596
Australia, . - - - 94S
The Cape, - - - . 1,238
United States, - - 9,751
The British Government cannot pre-
vent emigration to the United States,
but it could do much to discourage it.
British newspapers have been doing
much to aid the colonies, but these
figures prove that they have not yet
fully moulded public opinion in the
British Isles. Perhaps when both the
governing classes and the journalists
have more fully realized that the colon-
ies are fully as civilized as the United
States, such statistics as those given
above will be unfatniliar.
*
The Winnipeg Free Press of a recent
date has the following paragraph : —
" The Canadian Magatinc for Marcl) con-
tains several inleresting contributions, bul
some or the editorial comment is very absurd.
The editor comments on (he character of im-
migrants to the wesi in evident ignorance of
ihc subject. He labours under Ihe idea that
the Icelandic immigrants are undesirable, and
also imder the delusion that the Dominion
Government could inauifuraie a Canadian
migration from Eastern Canada lo the Went,
' to displace thai Irom the north to the south.'
The Government has no authority to do the
first, and the second does not exist. The mi-
gration ia from the south to (he north."
As an off-set to the foregoing para-
graph, I would like to quote from a
letter received recently from a gentle-
man who has resided in the Northwest
for a number of years : —
" There are many ' white men ' in the North-
west who thank you for your remarks in the
March number of Tht Canadian Magatint on
"For the Galicians are neither useful nor
ornamental ; and why unsavoury shiploads of
them should l>e dumped down on the top of us
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EDITORIAL COMMENT
89
swear at.
" Perhaps the Gahcians are men and breth-
ren— but we want more business and less ^n-
^er-bread philanthropy in our Government
methods {methods save the niark) ! But this
is a very sore subject with us Westerners."
«
Let us examine the remarks of the
Free Press. The writer says the Ice-
lander is a desirable immigrant. Let
me ask, is he as desirable as a young-
Canadian from the Eastern Provinces ?
No one will answer in the affirmative.
That is my point. We are losing our
young; Canadian farmers and gaining
young Icelanders, Galicians and Douk-
hobors — a most foolish exchange.
The Free Press writer says that the
Government has no authority to inaugu-
rate a migration from Eastern to West-
ern Canada. Why then did it build
the Canadian Pacific Railway ? Why
then does it off'er a free farm to any
settler from this part of the country ?
With all due deference to the opinion of
the Free Press writer, I must admit that
Icannot agree with him. TheDominion
Government has authority to do any-
thing not prohibited in the B. N. A.
Act. This is not prohibited by that
Act.
A^in, the ^w^/Vjj writer says that
the immigration is from the United
States to Canada and not from Canada
to the United States. He is partially
right. Settlers from Dakota and Min-
nesota are moving across the border
into Canada. At the same time, how-
ever, young farmers from Ontario are
goin^ to Dakota and Minnesota. Dur-
ing the past six weeks hundreds of
them have gone, taking with them
their wives and children, their imple-
ments and stack. Of this I have
personal knowlege. Every week scores
of French Canadians and people from
the Maritime Provinces are crossing
the border. It is lamentable, but it
is true.
*
A despatch from Ottawa, dated April
3rd, states that Mr. Sifton has arranged
for five or six hundred Hungarian
families to be brought to Canada dur-
ing 1899. Mr. Sifton is doing clever
work, but his policy is a mistaken one.
The immigrants he is securing are not
so desirable as those from the British
Isles. They are rude, barbarous and
uncultured. We do not want slaves ; we
want men. A despatch from Winni-
peg dated April 4th, says that a Gaiician
entered the Police Court in that city
and asked to be permitted to bring an
action against another Gaiician whose
wife he had bought and who now re-
fused to deliver her. Is this man's
vote to ofF-set mine or that of the intel-
ligent writer on the Winnipeg Frve
Press ? Is Canada to become as rude,
as uncultured, as hckte, as heterogen-
eous, as careless of law and order and
good citizenship as the United States ?
Are we to have like political disorders P
•
Canada's immigration policy has
been wrong for a number of years. It
was wrong before Mr. Sifton became
Minister of the Interior, therefore he is
not wholly to blame. The previous
Ministers of the Crown, his present
colleagues, and the members of Parlia-
ment are just as responsible as the
Hon. Mr. Sifton. It lies with all these
gfentlemen and with the public to see
that this mistaken policy is rectified.
Bring in Icelanders, Galicians, Douk-
hobors, Hungarians, and all the other
riff-raff of the world if you will ; but at
the same time let all possible means be
adopted to keep the young Canadian
in Canada.
*
Last month I pointed out that the
Federal and Provincial Governments
had gone far enough in bonusing rail-
ways and that it was time to recast
their policies. It was shown that two
hundred and fifty millions of dollars, or
an amount equal to our present Federal
debt, had been given away to railway
promotors since Confederation.
Announcements from the various
Provincial centres and from Ottawa
show that the work of bonusing new
railroad companies is still proceeding
merrily. The task of making more
railway millionaires — almost the only
kind we have — is being pursued most
heartily.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
PROVINCIAL GRANTS IN 1S99 TO RAILROADS IN ONTARIO.
Name of Road. Distance. Cask.
Ont&rio, Hudson's Bay and We^lern 340 milex. $ 480,000
Haliburton, Whitnej' and MatlawH * 30 " 90,000
Ontario and Rainy River aSo " i,i2o,ooot
Central Ontario zi " 63,000
Central Counties Railway 14 " 18,000
Ontnrio, Belmont a.id Northern 7 " 12,400
S9» miles. $1,803,400
* A further grant for an exlenniDn of Ibis railway may be BjipAcud lo follow.
tOftbu ■mount KigiDKi had been voted preriouily.
150,0.
■2&o,<y
Under a plea of developing new dis-
tricts, the Province of Ontario has in-
curred a fresh liability in the way of
railroad bonuses of nearly two millions
of dollars, and this in a session which
was opened with an announcement
from the Provincial Treasurer that the
revenue of the Province was not equal
to the expenditure and that some new-
forms of taxation would be introduced.
The bills for the payment of $1,803,400
in cash and for the handing over of
1,350,000 acres of laad were approved.
*
The land grants to two railways (see
table) is 5,000 acres per mile. Now if
this land is worth anythingit should not
be given away. If it is not worth
anything, it is ridiculous to vote a cash
bonus to a railroad through it. But
then the principle of the thing is ridicu-
lous. It would never be followed by a
set of legislators who made any at-
tempt to master the duties and responsi-
bilities of their position. What the
members of the Ontario Government
are doing is following precedent ; and
it is a lamentable fact that in both
Provincial and Federal politics of the
last thirty years there is abundant pre-
cedent for this sort of conduct.
«
No doubt these legislators are anx-
ious to do somethingto make the Prov-
ince more populous, more prosperous,
more wealthy. They are persuaded by
interested parties that they will be
hailed by the public as giants of wis-
dom. With a vague hope in their hearts
that the thing will come out all right
in the end, they yield to the lobbyists
in order to oblige their friends and give
the Province more railroads. The situ-
ation would be humorous were it not so
tragic from a taxpayer's point of view,
A newspaper writer, sometime ago,
said that the railway promoter would
now have to move on to British Colum-
bia, for all the other provinces had no
need for more railroads. Apparently
that writer overlooked northern On-
tario.
«
Perhaps, before this reaches the read-
ers of the Magazine, the Dominion
Government railway grants for 1899
will be announced. They will be excel-
lent reading. The present Government
promised economy when it came into
power in 1896, but it is fully as prodi-
gal of the country's resources as was
its predecessor.
In one department only has the
promise of economy been kept. The
Post Office Revenue has increased by
$375,000. Many new post offices were
opened up, nearly two million more
letters were carried, yet the expenditure
was about $160,000 less than in 1897.
This increase in revenue and this de-
crease in expenditure have reduced the
deficit in the department to $47,602.
If thanks are due to any person for
this, it is to the Postmaster-General,
not to the Liberal cabinet.
John A. Cooper.
Digitized byGoOgIC
WE have no Canadian, apparently, who can g;ive us a romantic history of our
country. Parkman accomplished something ; but no Macaulay hai
arisen to complete and extend the work. Roberts' one-volume history comes
near to the mark in some chapters. Bourinot and Kingsford have little style
and less ima^nation. Calkin's short history is much better than Clement's, but
that is not extravag'ant praise. The Macaulay of Canadian history is undis-
covered as yet Goldwin Smith could give us something unique if he would.
But if we have no romantic history, we have many historical romances, and
for a time these may suffice. Major Richardson's "Wacousta," Marinette's
" Francois d'Bienville," Gaspe's " Les Anciens Canadiens," Mrs. Catherwood's
" Romance of Dollard," etc., Conao Doyle's *' Refugees," Barr's " In the Midst
of Alarms." Kirby's "The Golden Dog," Gilbert Parker's numerous tales, Wil-
liam McLennan's two or three stories, Charles G. D. Roberts' " A Forge in
the Forest," and " A Sister to Evangeline," and many minor works by such
writers as Seranus, Fideiis and Blanche Macdonnell—all these have touched the
romantic in our history. Worthy as are all these works, let us hope that they
are but the forerunners of even greater works in romance and in history.
The two latest additions to our historical romances are " Marguerite de Rob-
erval," by T. G. Marquis,*' and " The Span o' Life," by William McLennan and
J. N. Mcllwraith.* The former comes almost un recommended, unheralded.
The latter has the approval of " Harper's Magazine," where it ran serially, in
addition to the excellent reputation which Mr. McLennan had fairly won with
his previous books. In spite of this it is difficult to say which book is worthy
of most admiration.
Marguerite de Roberval is a niece of the famous Robert Sieur de Roberval,
who attempted, in conjunction with Jacques Cartier, to plant the first French
settlements in North America. This storj' opens in St. Malo in 1539, with a
meeting ofjacques Cartier, Claude de Pontbriand and Charles de la Pommeraye.
Claude is in love with Marguerite, and Pommeraye has just had a duel with
Roberval arising out of an insult offered by the former to Marguerite. Finally
the four men join to organize an expedition to Canada, which eventually sails in
two divisions. Cartier and Pommeraye have charge of one ; Roberval the
other. Claude has declared his love for Marguerite, and Roberval has sternly
forbade him pressing his suit. As Marguerite is to accompany Roberval, Claude
steals on board the ship, and when discovered is made a prisoner by Roberval.
Marguerite, two female companions, and Claude are after many troubles
deserted on a barren island in the St. Lawrence, where their sufferings during
two years are intense. The final downfall of the brutal Roberval and the fate
of the other persons make a thrilling tragedy, which Mr. Marquis has
handled with skill. Pommeraye is the most noble figure in the story, and must
win every reader's admiration by his gallantry and the steadfastness of his pas-
sion for a woman whom fate had decreed should never be his. Marguerite
might have been more thoroughly described ; but her bravery, strength of mind
'Bolli books are published in Canada by Ihe Copp, CUrk Company, Toronto.
,Gooj^le
92 THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
and siacerity of purpose mark her as an extraordinary woman. The story is
never complicated, and moves rapidly from one point to another. There is
scarcely a dull pag«, and one cannot avoid teelingf that Mr. Marquis is an accom-
plished story-teller.
"The Span o' Life," a tale of Louisbourg and Quebec, derives its title from
the stanza :
The span o' life's nae lang eneugh,
Nor deep eneugh the sea,
Nor braid eneugti this weary warld
Tu pan my love frae me.
Hugh Maxwell, of Kirkconnel, is hiding in London, because of his connection
with the misdirected Stuart affair of 1745. Here he meets and falls in love with
Margaret Nairn. Soon afterwards, Hugh discovers a woman whom as a g^rl
he had secretly married, but who now refuses to live with him. Under the cir*
cumstances he feels that he cannot press his suit with Margaret ; he, therefore,
enlists again under the French king, and is sent to Louisbourg. He has never
openly declared his love for Margaret, but each realizes a strong attachment.
After some years Margaret comes to Canada to seek the man she loves, and her
adventures as related by herself are almost wonderful. Eventually she meets
her husband during the second siege of Quebec, when the French were endeav-
ouring to regain what in the previous year they had lost on the Plains of
Abraham.'
" The story is divided into three parts. The first and third are told in the first
person by Hugh Maxwell, and the second gives an account of Margaret's wan-
derings in her own words. This surmounts some difficulties in the ordinary
" first person narrative," and enables the authors to introduce a broader range
of scenes and events. The book is gracefully written and carefully polished.
Because of its excellence in these virtues it at times seems rather fiat. The
rugged vivacious descriptions which give strength to Mr. Marquis' novel, are
almost wanting, yet there is no doubt that for art and purely literary style " The
Span o' Life" is far above " Marguerite de Roberval." The latter possesses a
simplicity and straightforwardness in plot and action which makes it a more
readable story from the commoner's point of view. But both novels are worthy
of a place on the first shelf of Canadian books.
THE MORMON PROPHET.*
Miss Lily Dougall, a novelist of whom Canada has no reason to be ashamed,
has given us a new volume, a story with a purpose. ' ' The Mormon Prophet "
is intended to teach, and is thus quite distinct in character from those novels
which aim only at describing life as it really is, without discussion of any kind-
Its purpose is set forth in the preface as follows :
" In Htudying Ihe rise of this curious sect I have discovered that certain misconceptions
ciinceniint; it are deeply rooted in the mind.s of many of the more earnest of the well-wishers Co
society. Some otherwise well-informed people hold Monnonism to be synonymous with poly-
gamy, believe that Brig'hiim Young- was its chief prophet, and are convinced thiit the miseries
of oppressed women, and tyrannies exercised over helpless subjects of both sexes, are the only
themes that the religion of more than two hundred thousand people can afford. When I
have ventured in conversation to deny these somewhat fabulous notions, it has been eomeslly
suggested to me that to write on so false a religion in other than a polemic spirit would tend
to the undermining of civic life.
" \\\ spite of these warnings, and allhouKh I know it lo be a most dangerous commodily, 1
have ventured to offer the simple truth, as far as 1 have been able to discern it."
"The Mermaid," "The Zeitgeist,"
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BOOKS AND AUTHORS
93
of the "purpose" of the story, it will be found decidedly
j;, much more interesting than might be expected. Joseph Smith,
his new Bible of golden plates, his wife and baby, Susannah the doubter, and
all the other unique American characters, catch and hold the reader's interest
from the first chapter onwards. Moreover, Miss Dougall knows how to gaia
the reader's sympathy for her characters — a point at which many writers fail.
«
TWO VOLUMES OF SHORT STORIES.
It would be hard to conceive a greater contrast than there is between the two
volumes of short stories published recently by William Briggs. Henry Cecil
Walsh is fanciful, wordy, diffuse, and very seldom dramatic. W. A. Fraser is
crisp, intense, concentrated, picturesque, and always dramatic. Mr. Walsh
describes all the little details which are of importance, and then all those which
are of no importance. If Mr. Fraser condescends to chronicle a detail, he gives
it a significance which raises it above the ordinary level. Mr, Walsh stretches
out his stories through thousands of words, and you read on and on, only to
find that when he has finished there is no story. Mr. Fraser's tales are active
from the start, event succeeds event, his personages are always moving, and
the expected does not always happen.
"The Eye of a God," which is the title of Mr. Fraser's volume, contains six
stories, four from far-away India, and two from the Canadian Northwest. Mr.
Fraser has lived in these districts, and he speaks as one having knowledge-
Take this extract from the speech of a Medicine Man :
" Then they drove him forth in anger, and he stood aK-ain where the trail forks. He
turned to the ieft, and journeyed aiortfi until the smell of Che sweet-graas and the sagre smote
upon his nostrils, and he knew (hat he was i-oining; to the Happy Hunting-Ground of his own
Iie«>ple, the Indians.
" Like the noise of the wings of the great birds that make the thunder was the sound of the
hoofs of the BuflaJo, that were even as the sands of Ibe river, as the spirits of the Happy
Hunting-Ground ran them in the ohasn."
Here we have the sweet-grass, the sage, the fork In the trail, the thunder-
birds, the happy hunting-ground- — all these crowded pictures of a life which must
b« seen to be understood. That is Mr. Fraser's secret. He is a .story-teller,
but he i^ more. He is an artist and a traveller. He has seen. Many of us
are travellers, but not all of us have seen. But thpre is no need of praising
this new volume, as five or six of Mr. Fraser's tales have already appeared in
Tks Canadian Magazine ; moreover, his stories have won him a leading place
among the writers of to-day in both New York and London.
As for Mr. Walsh, his attempt is a good one. He has lived a narrow life,
but he has seen the French Canadian. He knows Quebec and the Quebeoers
very well indeed. That he does not describe them better in "Bonhomme:
French Canadian Stories and Sketches," is because he lacks force and humour
— and without these two, few men have won fame in any calling. However,
there have been many worse stories published than "A Crown Courier," and
"The Onion in the Wheel-Rut," two of this collection, and there have been
much worse illustrations than those by Mr. Brymner.
THE BLACK DOUGLAS.
S, R. Crockett's stories are usually cheerful, but "
ronto: Morang) is a decided exception. It is gruesom _
revolting, Gilles de Retz, a more central figure in the story than the Black Doug-
las, is a hideous Frenchman of the fifteenth century, whose chief occupation is
Digitized by Google
94 THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
the sacrifice of innocent children, youths and maidens to the Devil, and the
drinking of their blood, in the vain hope that he may live forever. In the last
fifty pages of the book his chamel-house is discovered, and we are blandly in-
formed that " these vague forms, mostly charred like half-burned wood, these
scraps of white bone, these little crushed skulls, were all that remained of the
innocent children who, in the freshness of their youth and beauty, had been
seduced into the fatal castle of Machecoul. " There are twenty sacks full of
these bones, and twenty more waiting to be filled. This is followed up by the
almost completed sacrifice of two Scotch maidens and one Scotch lad — ^who ar;
rescued only after the reader had been fully harrowed by the preparations made
for their intended torture.
S. R. Crockett has taken the name of the Black Douglas in vain. The first
half of the story is occupied with a history of his life and his death, and there
the tale should have ended. What follows is no part of the tragedy in which
he played so magniiicent a part. When the hero of a story dies, is married,
or performs the highest duties of which he is capable, his story is closed. To
afterwards use his good name under which to describe one of the vilest of human
beings is not fair to the hero or to his admirers.
Should any person prone to read of sensational occurrences or soul-moving
horrors and atrocities, ask me if \ should recommend "The Black Douglas,"
my answer would be in the affirmative. To the man or woman desirous of
reading only what is pleasant, artistic or elevating, I would say "Shun it as you
would an immoral Story or a fourth-rate play." Every event may be justified by
history, but their description cannot always be justified by common sense. The
latter half of the book could only be equalled by the description in a New York daily
newspaper of an unusually revolting murder. We have enough of the vulgar
and debasing in our present life, without being called upon to revel in the vices
and viciousness of past centuries.
«
A BOOK OF TRAVELS.
It is a relief to turn occasionally from the omnipresent love-story, and from
the omniscient manufacturer of possible and impossible romances to a thorough-
ly wholesome book dealing with sane adventure. William Briggs has done well
to give us a Canadian edition of " The Cruise of the Cachalot," a story of a
trip around the world after sperm whales. The book, during the past few
months, has attracted much attention in England and R udy a rd Kipling has writ-
ten the following letter to his fellow author :
DSAR Mr. Bullen :
" It is immense — there is no other word. 1 never read anything thai equals it in its deep-
sea wonder and mystery ; nor do 1 think that any book before has so completely covered (he
whole business of whale fishing, and at the same time i^ix'en such real and new sea picturea.
You have thrown away material enough to make five books, and I congretuUte you most
heartily. It's a new world that you have open'^d the door to.
\'ery sincerely, RUDVARD KlPLlNG.
Rot(in);dean, Nov. ii, 1898.
This story of the methods and dangers of the South Sea whale fishers is de-
cidedly interesting, and worthy of the generous praise which Mr. Kipling has
given.
4S(
MR. DOOLEYS HUMOUR.
Mr. Dooley's talks in book form are not so attractive as in an occasional arti-
cle in a newspaper. To get him all at once is to become satiated with him.
ngi.zedbyGoO^IC
BOOKS AND A UTHORS 95
True, he is clever, witty and wise — but with all these qualities, he is digestible
only in small doses. Mr. F. P. Dunne, a Chicago journalist, has made a decided
discovery ia his new style of humour. It was a timely discovery. Mark Tw^n,
Bill Nye, Artemus Ward, and even our awn Sam Slick, had been relegated to
the back shelves of public favour. Mr. Dunne not only used his American- Irish
friend to great advantag'e in producing humour, but he infused into the genial
g^eatleman's remarks a satire and a sagacity which won public approval. He
spoke the people's thoughts with a poiatedness, a directness and a humorous '
turn which made these thoughts doubly acceptable to the people who were
thinking them. They laughed and said " Right you are, Mr. Dooley," and if
Mr. Dooley had not been right, even his wit and humour would not have made
him famous. Whether Mr. Dunne's volume will be classed as " literature " in
the blue books, does not really matter ; the world of readers laughs, is happy
— and forgets.
"The Anglo-American Magazine " for April (Vol. 1., No. 3), contains " Prom
The Great Lakes to the Ocean," by Captain Gillmore, of Ottawa, "An Open
Door with Canada," by Erastus Wiman, "The Yukon Territory," by Thomas
Crahan, and much other interesting material. Capt. Gillmore's article deals
with the proposed canal between Georgian Bay and the Ottawa, a project
which he approves with much enthusiasm.
"The Godhood of Man" is the title of a book by a Chicago man who does
not approve the present religious ideas of the English-speaking Christians, because
they lead to inequalities and give too much importance to church and state.
' ' Light Amid the Shadows " is tlie title of a small volume of devotional verse
by Annie Clarke, a Canadian. Some of these are bright, and all exhibit a high
degree of religious spirituality. (Toronto : The Revell Co.)
" Susannah," by Mary E. Mann (Unwin's Colonial Library), is a lengthy
story of considerable merit. Susannah's father dies penniless, and his daugh-
ters must live with their relatives. Susannah -has a difficult time with a charity-
mad London widow, and later on as a maid-of-all-work in a lodging house.
She bears her hard luck with equanimity, and it serves but to make her strong.
Of course, the knight appears in due time, and everbody is happy,
Mr. David Boyle is an antiquarian who has done much for Canadian history.
He has just presented to the Minister of Education for Ontario — at the latter's
expense — an exhaustive report on the Iroquois Pagans and Paganism of the
Grand River Reserve. Mr. Boyle deals very generously with his subject. Rites,
dances, myths, legends, festivals, music, customs, and other matters connected
with the archseology and ethnology of this once famous race of redmen, are
carefully discussed. Of course, the report will be read by only about a dozen
people, but that does not lessen its bulk or its value. (Published by the
Ontario Government.)
Any person interested in municipal reform will find the New York Quarterly,
" Municipal Affairs," a very valuable work of reference. It is published at 51
William Street.
On June ist Armour & Co., of Chicago, close their thousand dollar compe-
tition for the best finished coloured design (single or serial), for a ic^ooart cal-
endar. This competition has attracted much attention among Canadian artists,
and several are sending designs. The effect of the modem style of advertising
upon art is something which cannot be overlooked, .\dvertisers are certainly
making the artists' calling much more lucrative.
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96 THE CANADIAX MAGAZINE
" The Trjul of the Sword," by Gilbert Parker, has been translated into French
by N. Le Vasseu^, and is published by Frank Carrel, Quebec, at fifty cents.
The New Brunswick Historical Society, ot which S. D. Scott, of St. John,
is President, and Jonas Howe, Corresponding' Secretary, has published the
fourth number of its Collections. The material included is very valuable indeed,
and reflects much credit on the Society. Dr. Ganong's work in this connection
is worthy of special mention.
Mr. Henry J. Morgan has bought back the publishing rights of " The
Canadian Parliamentary Companion," which he founded in 1862. Mr, Morgan
will soon ^t out a new issue which, it is said, will be a decided improvement
on any previous annual effort.
The Longman Colonial Ubrary contains nearly all of H. Rider Haggard's
novels. The latest issue is " Swallow," a tale of the Boer and Kaffir, particu-
larly of the great Trek of 1836. It is an historical novel with plenty of killing
and dying.
The Macmillan Sixpenny Series has been increased by a selection of the poems
of Alfred, Lord Tennyson. The selections include " Locksley Hall" and
" In Memoriam." This is a splendid volume to slip into the summer holiday
portmanteau.
THE FOUNDER OF HALIFAX.
To the Editor of the Canadian Magazine.
Sir, — Permit me to invite your at-
tention to a palpable error in Mr, J.
Taylor Wood's article on Halifax in
the April number of the Canadian
Magazine. It was not Lord £orn-
watlis, as therein stated, who com-
manded the expedition sent to Che-
bucto Bay by the English Government
in 1749, and which resulted In the
foundation of the city of Halifax, but
another member of that well-known
family, namely. Colonel (afterwards
Lieu ten ant- Genera I) the Honourable
Edward Comwallis. He became the
first Governor of the Colony, and was
afterwards Governor of Gibraltar. He
died in 1776 while holding the last-
named appointment. I might further
say that the 8th of June was for a long
time regarded as the date of the founda-
tion of Halifax, and on that day in 1849
the centenary of the foundation of the
city was celebrated. According to Mc-
Cord, however ("Handbook of Cana-
Ottawa, April 8, [899.
dian Dates,") the correctness of the
date came to be questioned, and, in
1862, correspondence between the
Celebration Committee and the Com-
missioner of Public Records (the late
Dr. Akins] led to the production by
him of a letter written by Colonel
Comwallis, in which he stated that he
had arrived in Halifax Harbour on the
2ist of June. A proclamation by the
Governor then appeared in the Roya\
Gazette, appointing the 21st of June,
1862, as the anniversary of the settle-
ment of Halifax, and on that day it has
ever since been observed. But, al-
though Comwallis did arrive in Che-
bucto Bay on the aist of June, it was
only with his suite, on board the sloop
of war Sphinx. The first of the trans-
port.s carrying the settlers did not ap-
pear until the 17th, and it was not be-
fore the 30th of June that the set-
tlers landed, and that Halifax was
founded.
Henry J. Morgan.
,Gooj^le
A
ANECDOTES.
SCOTCH farmer, celebrated i
neig'hbourhood for his im-
mense strength and skill in athletic ex-
ercises, very frequently had the plea-
sure of contending' with people who
came to try theirstrength against him.
Lord D., a great pugilistic amateur,
went from London on purpose to fight
the athletic Scot. The latter was
working in an enclosure at a little dis-
tance from his house when the noble
lord arrived. His lordship tied his
horse to a tree and addressed the farm-
er. " Friend, 1 have heard marvellous
reports of your skill, and have come a
long way to see which of us two is the
better wrestler." The Scotchman,
without answering, seized the noble-
man, pitched him over the fence, and
then set about working again. When
Lord D. got up: "Well," said the
farmer, "have you anything to say to
me?" "No," replied his lordship,
" but perhaps you'd be good enough
to throw me my horse."
W
The story goes that when Li Hung
Chang was in England an admirer sent
him a specially fine bull-terrier, in-
tended to watch over the veteran
statesman's declining years. The fol-
lowing letter — so the story goes — was
received in acknowledgment : " My
Dear ,- — While tendering my best
thanks for sending me your dog, I beg
to say that, as for myself, I have long
since given up the practice of eating
dog's flesh; but my attendants to whom
I handed the creature, tell me they
never tasted anything so nice. Your
devoted L."
«
A delightful instance of the Prince of
Wales' geniality occurred some few
years ago when he was visiting the
Earl of Warwick at Easton Hall, Duo-
mow, Essex. He was driving through
the county to make a call when, at a
small village, Wimbish I believe it was
called, either one of the horses cast a
shoe or some damage was done to the
Prince's equipage — at any rate, a halt
was necessary while repairs were effect-
ed. The Prince was strolling up and
down when a rustic came up to him
and, touching his hat, said: "They
tell us, sir, as you be the Prince of
Wales?" H.R. H. affably repliedthat
such was the case. His visitor, on
receiving an affirmative to his question,
continued: "Then, sir, a lot of us,
me and my mates, would like to drink
your Royal 'Ighness's good elth."
The hint was taken and the petitioner
was awarded a half-a-crown for the
purpose, the Prince, as he gave the
money, laughing heartily.
V
THE RETORT COURTEOUS.
Father O'Leary, a well-known Ca-
tholic priest' and wit, was on very
friendly terms with his neighbour, the
Church of L ngland vicar. They met
on the road one day, when the vicar
said excitedly : "Oh! Father O'Leary,
have you heard the awful news?"
" No," said the priest, " what is it at
all?" "Something awful," says the
vicar. " The bottom has fallen out of
purgatory, and all the Catholics have
tumbled into hell." "Oh, dear, oh,
dear," says Father O'Leary, "what a
crushing the poor Protestants must
have got."
V
CRUSHED.
A man strolled into a fashionable
church before the service began. The
sexton followed him up, and, tapping
Bigiliz
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
TOO LATE.
Namib — I'm jusl Ihat angry 1 could cry.
Edith — Why, what's the matter, dear?
Hahib — That horrid beast, Riply, who skipped my dance the other night, '
rig;ht behind me af the matinee to-day, and I only had my walking hat on.
him on the shoulder and pointing to a
small cur that had rolloY/ed him into
the sacred edifice, said :
" Dogs are not admitted."
"That's not my dog," replied the
visitor.
" But he follows you,"
, "Well, so do you."
The sexton growled and immediately
removed the dog with unnecessary vio-
lence.
«
WILLING TO QUALIFY.
A few days ago a recruit was taken
to be sworn in by the magistrate.
Everything was going on swimmingly
till the magistrate asked the man the
following question : " Have you ever
been in prison ?"
At this the man looked startled, but
quickly recovering himself, he blurted
out, " No, sir, I have never been in
gaol, but I don't mind doing a few
days if you think it necessary."
INQUISITIVE.
Child to nursemaid : " I say, Jane,
the difference between English
what'
: and Australia
Jane : " Why, o'course Master Reg-
gie, English mutton's made of sheep
and Orstralian of 'orse."
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NE, 1899
AN AT THE WHEEL.
A TALE OF BRITISH EGYPT.
By Gilbert Parker.
"liryNDHAM BIMBASHI'S career
*V in Egfypt had been a series of
mistakes. In the first place he was
opiniooated ; in the second place he
never seemed to have any luck ; and,
worst of all, he had a little habit of
doing grave things on his own light-
some responsibility. This last quality
was natural to him, but he added to it
a supreme contempt for the native mind
and an unhealthy scorn of the native
official. He never seemed' to realize
that, after all, the native knows, in one
sure way, a good deal more about his
country than a foreigner possibly can ;
also, that, however corrupt in character
Mahommed may be, he is in touch with
the mind of his countrymen. But
Major Wyndham, which is to say
Wyodham Bimbashi, was convinced of
the omniscience of the British mind, of
its universal superiority. He said as
much to Vemet, the French count in
the cooRdence of the Khedive, who had
^ot him his billet at a time when there
were scarcely any English ofiicials in
E&ypt- Vemet chafed, but he had
been Wyn dh am 's guest in Sussex years
before, and he contented himself with
a satirical warning. In this he de-
served credit, for Wyndham's manner,
with his unimaginative, bullet-headed
cocksureoess, his yawning indifference,
his UDpitying endurance of foreigners'
ofMnions, was provoking if nothing
Bored as he generally was, Wyndham
had ideas of reform — in the army, in
the state, everywhere. With all his
Eaglishness he was for doing what is
characteristic of the Frenchman ; trans-
planting schemes of home government
and administration bodily into colonies
and spheres of influence. He had not
that rare quality often found among
Englishmen, of working the native up
through his own medium, as it were,
through his own customs and predis-
positions, to the soundness of Western
administrative methods. Therefore in
due time he made some bad mistakes,
which, in natural sequence, were fol-
lowed by dangerous mistakes. By vir-
tue of certain high-handed actions he
was the cause of several riots in native
villages, and he had himself been at-
tacked at more than one village as he
rode between the fields of sugar-cane.
On these occasions he had behaved
very well — certainly no one could pos-
sibly doubt his bravery ; but that was
a small offset to the fact that his want
of tact and his overbearing manner had
been the means of turning the Haden-
dowa Arabs loose upon the country,
raiding and killing.
But he could not, or would not, see
his own vain stupidity. The climax
came in a foolish sortie against the
Hadendowas. In that unauthorized
melee, in covert disobedience to a gen-
eral order not to attack, unless at ad-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
vantag^e — for the Gippies under him
were raw levies — his troop was dimi-
nished by half, and cut off from the
Nile by a flank movement of the
Hadendowas. He was obliged to re-
treat and take refuge in the well-
fortiRed and walled house of a friendly
sheikh, which had previously been a
Coptic monastery.
Here, at last, the taith came home
to Wyndham Bimbashi. He realized
that though in his six years' residence
in the land he had acquired a command
of Arabic equal to that of others who
had been in the coun:ry twice that
time, he had acquired little else. He
awaked to the fact that in his cocksure
schemes for the civil and military life
of Egypt there was not one element of
sound sense ; that he had been all along
an egregious failure. It did not come
home to him with clear accurate con-
viction— his brain was not a first-rate
medium for illumination ; but the facts
struck him now with a blind sort of
force ; and he accepted the blank sen-
sation of failure. Also, he read in the
faces of those round htm an alien spirit,
a chasm of black misunderstanding,
which his knowledge of Arabic could
never bridge over.
Here he was, shut up with Gippies
who had no real faith in him, in the
house of a sheikh whose servants would
cut his throat on no provocation at all ;
and not an eighth of a mile away was
a horde of Arabs: a circle of death
through which it was impossible to
break with the men in his command.
They must all die here if they were not
relieved.
The nearest garrison was at Berber,
fiftymilesaway. Five hundred menwere
stationed there. Now that his cup of
mistakes was full, Wyndham Btmbashi
would willingly have made the attempt
to carry word to the garrison there.
But he had no right to leave his post.
He called for a volunteer. No man
replied. Panic was upon the Gippies.
Though Wyndham Bimbashl's heart
sickened within him, his lips did not
frame a word of reproach ; but a blush
of shame came into his face, and crept
up to his eyes, dimming them. For
there flashed through his mind what
men at home would think of him when
this thing, such an end to his whole
career, was known. As he stood still,
upright and confounded, someone
touched his arm.
It was Hassan, his Soudanese ser-
vant. Hassan was the one person in
Egypt who thoroughly believed in
Wyndham Bimbashi. Wyndham was
as a god to Hassan, though this same
god had given him the taste of a belt
more than once. Hassan had not re-
seated the belt, though once, in a
moment of affectionate confidence, he
had said to Wyndham that when
Wyndham got old and died he would
be the servant of an American or a
missionary, " who no whack Mahom-
med."
It was Hassan that now volunteered
to carry word to the garrison at Berber.
" If I no carry, you whack me with
the belt. Pasha," said Hassan, whose
logic and reason were like his mas-
ter's, neither better nor worse.
" If you do you shall have fifty
pounds and — the missionary," answered
Wyndham Bimbashi, his eyes still
cloudy and his voice thick ; for it
touched him in a tender nerve that
this one Soudanese boy should believe
in him and do for him what he would
give much to do for the men under
him. For his own life he did not care,
his confusion and shame were so
great.
He watched Hassan steal out into
the white brilliance of the night.
" Mind you keep a whole skin, Has-
san," he said as the slim lad, with the
white teeth, oily hair, and legs like
ivory, stole along the wall, to drop
presently on his belly, and make for
some palm trees a hundred yards
away. The minutes went by insiteoce,
an hour went by, the whole night went
by ; Hassan had got beyond the circle
of trenchant steel.
They must now abide Hassan's fate;
but another peril was upon them.
There was not a goolah of water with-
in the walls.
It was the time of low Nile, when
all the land is baked like a crust of
Digitized by Google
THE MAN AT THE WHEEL
103
bread, when the creaking of the
shadoofs and the singing croak of the
sakkia are heard all the long night like
untiring crickets with the throats of
frogs. It was the time succeeding the
khamseen, when the skin dries like
slaked lime and the face is forever
powdered with dust; and the felaheen,
in the slavery of superstition, strain
their eyes day and night for the Sacred
■ Drop, which tells that the flood is
flowing fast from the hills of Abys-
ItwasliketheEgyptian, thatnothing
should be said to Wyndham BimbashI
about the dearth of water until it was
all gone. The house of the sheikh,
and its garden where were a pool and
a fountain, were supplied from the
great Persian wheel at the water side.
On this particular sakkia had been
wont to sit all day a patient fellah,
driving the blindfolded buffaloes in
their turn. It was like the patient fel-
lah, when the Arabs in pursuit of
Wyndham and his Gippies suddenly
cut in between him and the house, to
deliver himself over to the conqueror,
with his hand upon his head, in sign
of obedience. It was also like the
l^ntle Egyptian that he eagerly
showed the Hadendowas how the
water could be cut off from the house
by dropping one of the sluice gates ;
irhile, opening another, all the land
around the Arab quarters might be
well watered, the birkets filled, and
the bersim kept green for their horses
and camels. Which was how it was
that Wyndham Bimbashi and his Gip-
pies, and the sheikh and his house-
hold faced the fact the morning after
Hassan left, that there was not a goo-
lah of water for a hundred burning
throats. Wyndham understood now
why it was that the Hadendowas sat
down and waited, that torture might
be added to the on-coming death of
the Englishman, his natives and the
' ■ friendlies. "
All that day terror and a ghastly
hate hung like a miasma over the be-
sieged house and garden. Fifty eyes
hungered for the blood of Wyndham
Bimbashi ; net because he was Wynd-
ham BimbashI, but because the heathen
in these men cried out for sacrifice ;
and what so agreeable a sacrifice as
the Englishman who had led them into
this disaster and would die so well —
had they ever seen an Englishman
who did not die well !
Wyndham Bimbashi was quiet and
watchful, and he cudgelled his bullet-
head, and looked down his long nose
in meditation ail the day, while his
tongue became dry and thick, and his
throat seemed to crack like roasting
leather. At length he worked the
problem out ; then he took action.
He summoned his troop before him,
and said briefly :
" Men, we must have water. The
question is, who is going to steal out
to the sakkia to-night to shut the one
sluice and open the other? "
No one replied. No one understood
quite what Wyndham meant. Shut-
ing one sluice and opening the other
did not seem to meet the situation.
There was the danger of getting to the
sakkia, but there was also an after.
Would it be possible to shut one sluice
and open the other without the man at
the wheel knowing ? Suppose you
killed the man at the wheel — what
then !
The Gippies and the friendlies
scowled, but did not speak. TheBim-
bashi was responsible for all : he was
an Englishman, let him get water for
them, or die like the rest of them, per-
haps before them !
Wyndham Bimbashi could not travel
the sinuosities of their minds, and ifhe
could have done so it would not have
affected his purposes. When no man
replied, he simply said :
"All right, men, you shall have
water before morning. Try and hold
out till then." And he dismissed them.
For a long time he walked up and
down the garden of straggling limes,
apparently listless, and smoking hard.
He reckoned in his mind how long it
would take Hassan to get to Berber,
and how long it would take for relief
to come. He was fond of his pipe,
and he smoked now as if it was the
thing he most enjoyed in the world.
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I04
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
He held the bowl in the hollow of his
hand almost tenderly. He seemed un-
conscious of the scowling looks around
him. At last he sat dawn on the led^
of the rude fountain, with his face to>
wards the Gippies and the Arabs
squatted on the ground, some playing;
mankalah, others sucking the dry lime
leaves, some smoking apathetically,
and others still gasping and staring.
One man with the flicker of insanity
in his eyes suddenly ran forward and
threw himself on the ground before
Wyndham Bimbashi.
"In the name of God the Compas-
sionate, the Mercititl — water ! " he
cried. " Water — I am dying, efFendi,
whom God preserve ! "
"Nile water is sweet; you shall
drink it before morning, Mahommed,"
answered Wyndham quietly. ' ' God
will preserve your life till the Nile
water cool your throat."
" Before dawn, O effendi ? " gasped
the Arab.
" Before dawn, by the mercy of
God," answered Wyndham; and for
the first time in his life he had a burst
of imagination. The Orient had touch-
ed him at last.
" Is not the song of the sakkia in
thine ear, Mahommed :
Turn, O Sakkia, to the ri^t and turn to tlie
left:
The Nile floweth by nig^ht and the balassea
are filled al dawn—
The maid of the villagre shall bear to thy bed
the dewy grey goolah at dawn :
Turn, O Sakkia I"
Wyndham Bimbashi was learning at
last the way to the native mind.
The man rose from his knees. A
vision of his home in the Mirkaz of
Minieh passed before him. He stretch-
ed out his hands and sang in the vibrat-
ing monotone of his people :
"Turn, O Sakkia, In the rig^ht, and turn 10 the
left;
Who will lake care of me if my father dien t
Who will give me water lo drink, and Ihe
cucumber vine at my door :
Turn, O Sakkia t "
Then he crept back again to the wall
of the house where he huddled between
a Berberine playing a darabukkeh and
a man of Fayoum who chanted the
Fatihah from the Koran.
Wyndham looked at them all and
pondered. "If the devils out there
would only attack us ! " he said
between his teeth, " or if we could
only attack them !" he added, and he
nervously hastened his footsteps ; for
to him this inaction was terrible.
" They'd forget their thirst if they were
fighting," he muttered, and then he.
frowned ; for the groans of the horses
behind the house came to his ear. In
desperation he went inside and climbed
to the roof, where he could see the
circle of the enemy.
It was no use. They were three to
one, and his Gippies were demoraliz-
ed. It would be a fine bit of pluck to
try and cut his way through the Hadeo-
dowas to the Nile, but how many would
reach it?
No, he had made his full measure of
mistakes, he would not add to the list.
If Hassan got through to Berber his
Gippies here would be relieved ; and
there would be no more blood od his
head. Relieved — and when they were
relieved, what of himself, Wyndham
Bimbashi? He knew what men would
say in Cairo, what men would say at
the War Office in London town, at ' ' the
Rag," everywhere ! He could not look
his future in the face. He felt that
every man in Egypt, save himself, had
known all along that he was a com-
plete failure. It did not matter while
he himself was not conscious of it, but
now that the armour-plate of conceit
protecting his honest mind had been
torn away on the reefs of foolish deeds,
it mattered everything. For when his
conceit was peeled away, there was
left a crimson cuticle of the Wyndham
pride — of the Wyndham Bimbashi
pride ! Certainly he could not attack
the Hadendowas ; he had had his
eternal fill of sorties 1
And he could not wait for the relief
party, for his Gippies and the frieodlies
were famishing, dying of thirst. He
prayed for night. How slowly the
minutes, the hours, passed; and hour
bright was the moon when it rose ;
brighter even than it was when Hassan
:yGooglt:
THE MAN AT THE WHEEL
'05
crept out to steal through the Arab
At midnight Wyndham Bimbashi
stole softly out of a gate in the garden
wall, and, like Hassan, dropping to the
ground, crept towards a patch of maize
lying between the house and the river.
He was dressed like a fellah, with the
long blue yelek, a poor wool fez, and
round the fez wa^ a white cloth, as it
were to protect his mouth from the
night air, after the manner of the peas-
The fires of the enemy were dying
down, and only here and there Arabs
gossiped or drank coffee by the embers.
At last Wyndham was able to drop into
the narrow channel, now dry, through
which, when the sluice was open and
the sakkia turned, the water flowed to
the house. All went well till he was
within a hundred yards of the wheel,
though now and ag^n he could hear
sentries snoring or talking just above
him. Suddenly he heard breathing an
arm's length before him, then a figure
raised itself and a head turned towards
him. The Arab had been asleep, but
his hand ran to his knife by instinct —
too late, for Wyndham's fingers were
at his throat, and he had neither time
nor chance to cry "Allah" before the
breath left him !
Wyndham crept on. The sound of
the sakkia was in bis ears, the long,
creaking, crying song filling the night
And now there rose the Song of the
Sakkia from the man at the wheel :
" Tarn, O Sakkia, to the ri^ht, and turn to the
left:
Xhe heron feeds by the water aide — shall 1
starve in my onion field t
Shall the Lord of the World withhold his tears
that waler the land ;
Turn, O Sakkia I "
.... The cold white stars, the
deep cold blue the far-off Libyan hills
in a gold and opal glow, the smell of
the desert, the deep swish of the Nile,
the Song of the Sakkia ! . . . .
Wyndham Bimbashi's heart beat
faster, his blood flowed quicker, he
strangled a sigh in his breast. Here,
with death on every hand, with imme-
diate danger and a fearful peril before
him, out of the smell of the desert
and the ghostly glow of the Libyan
hills there came a memory — a memory
of a mistake he had made years before
with a woman. She had never for-
given him for the mistake — he knew
that now. He knew that no woman
could ever forgive the blunder he had
made — not a blunder of love but a
blunder of self-will and an unmanly,
unmannerly conceit. It had nearly
wrecked her life ; and he only realized
it now, in the moment of clear-seeing
which comes to everyone once in this
life. Well, it was something to have
seen the mistake at last!
He was near the sluice-gate now. It
was impossible to open it without the
fellah on the water-wheel seeing him.
There was another way. He crept
close and closer to the wheel. The
breath of the blindfolded buffalo was
in his face, he drew himself up lightly
and quickly beside the buffalo — he was
making no blunder nowl The fellah
still sang:
"Turn, O Sakkia, turn to the ri|ht, and turn
to the 1. ft:
For (he chargers that ride the bersim waits . ,"
The great jars on the wheel emptied
their splashes of water into the trough
for the channel.
Suddenly Wyndham Bimbashi leapt
from behind the buffalo upon the fellah
and smothered his head and mouth in
the white cloth he had brought. There
was a moment's struggle, then, as the
wheel went slower and slower, and the
patient buffalo stopped, Wyndham Bim-
bashi dropped the gagged but living
fellah into a trench by the sakkia, and
calling to the buffalo, slid over swiftly,
opened the sluice-gate of the channel
which fed the house, and closed that
leading to the Arab encampment.
Then he sat down where the fellah
had sat, and the sakkia droned its
mystic music over the river, and the
desert and the plain. But the buffalo
moved slowly^the fellah's song had
been a spur to its travel, as the camel-
driver's song is to the caravan in the
waste of sands. Wyndham Bimbashi
hesitated an instant, then as the first
trickle of water entered the garden of
the house where his Gippies and the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
friendlies were, his voice rose in the
Sonf? of the Sakkia:
" Turn, O Sal(Jf'ia, turn lo the right, and turn
to the left :
Who will take care of me, if my father dies !
Who will give me water to drink, and the
cucumber vine al my door :
Turn. O Sakkia ! '
If he had but one hour longer there
would be enough water for men and
horses for days — twenty jars of water
pouring— pouring all the time !
Now and again a figure came to-
wards the wheel, but not close enough
to see that the one sluice-gate had been
shut and the other opened. One hour
passed, an hour and a half, and then
the end came.
The gagged fellah had managed to
free his mouth, and though his feet
were bound also and he could not loose
them at once, he gave a loud call for
help. From dying fires here and there
Arab sentries sprang to- their feet with
rifles and lances.
Wyndham Bambashi's work was
done. He leapt from the sakkia, and
ran towards the house. Shot after
shot was fired at him, lances were
thrown, and once an Arab barred his
way suddenly. He pistolled him and
ran on. A lance caught him in the
left arm. He tore it out and pushed
forward. Stooping once, he caught
up an Arab sword from the ground.
When he was within fifty yards of the
house, four Hade n do was intercepted
him. He slashed through, then turned
with his pistol and fired as he ran
quickly towards the now open gate.
He was within ten yards of it, and had
fired his last shot, when a bullet
crashed through his jaw.
A dozen Gippies ran out, dragged
him in, and closed the gate.
The last thing Wyndham Bimbashi
did before he died in the grey of dawn
— and this is told of him by the Gippies
themselves — was to cough up the bul-
let from his throat, and spit it out up-
on the ground. The Gippies thought
it a miraculous feat and that he had
done it in scorn of the Hadendowas.
Before another sunrise and sunset
had come, Wyndham Btmbashi's men
were relieved by the garrison of Ber-
ber, after a hard fight.
There are Englishmen in Egypt who
still speak slightingly of Wyndham
Bimbashi; but the British officer who
buried him hushed a gossiping dinner-
party a few months ago in Cairo by
saying :
" Lightly they'll speak of the spirit that's gone.
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ;
But little he'll reck if they let him sleep on
In Ihe grave where the Gippies have laid him."
And he did not apologize for para-
phrasing the famous ballad. He has
shamed Hg^ypt at last into a sort of ad-
miration of Wyndham Bimbashi, to
the deep satisfaction of Hassan the
Soudanese boy, who received his fifty
pounds and to this day wears the belt
that once kept him in the narrow path
of duty.
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A NEW NATIONAL POLICY.
By Senator Boulton.
THE policy of the open door is the
policy of the Imperial Government.
It is not a party policy ; it is an Im-
perial policy. Wherever the influence
of the Imperial Government extends
to the commercial life of nations di-
rectly under its control that system
prevails and sound government is the
result. It is an announcement to the na-
tions of the world that the British are
prepared to compete with them upon
their own soil or under their own flag
without fear or favour. In the self-gov-
erning' branches of the British Empire,
the attitude of the Imperial Government
is one of neutrality ; it virtually says :
" You have to work out your career as
nations ; you have to gain your own
experience. Canada, you are two cen-
turies old ; Africa, you have passed
your first centennial ; Australia, three-
quarters of a century has passed over
your head. All we can do is to set you
an example drawn from the experience
of generations, and so far as you can
bring yourselves to accommodate the
necessities of your national lives to our
policy, we can safely recommend you to
follow it."
I do not think any one will deny that
the rule of the Imperial Government
has been for good. Its principles have
been cast in a high mould, and its
government of inferior races has been
productive of the best results. That is
the verdict of the world at large. That
rival powers are disposed to view with
jealousy the solid advance of the Im-
perial Government of Great Britain
and Ireland as leader of the world is
not to be wondered at Their fighting
powers have not been brought into
play against it, but they have sought
to make their commercial powers do
dutj to overcome-the absolute indiffer-
ence of the Imperial Government tc
competition in trade or in finance. By
means of protective duties, export
bounties and artificial methods they
have attempted to exclude British
trade from not only their own bounds,
but wherever their flag waves in dis- .
tant portions of the earth. Increasing
their armaments and testing the finan-
cial strength of Great Britain to keep
pace does not produce a ripple on the
surface of British finance, and the
determination to keep the power of the
navy equal to that of any other two
nations is not beyond the annual
resources of the revenue. The process
of exhaustion has been heavier on the
constitutions of foreign powers than it
has been on that of the British Isles.
The national constitution should be
just as much an object of care and solici-
tude as his own constitution is to an in-
dividual. Wisdom has guided those
upon whom devolves the responsibility
of preserving the constitution of the
British Empire in a healthy state. What
are its characteristics P Liberty of ac-
tion, liberty of conscience and liberty of
commerce to find its own level.
We have a place in the British Em-
pire. Our political rule of life is mould-
ed upon its constitution ; but with that
liberty of action which is its basic prin-
ciple, we have to exercise wisdom to
preserve our constitution in a healthy
state, and upon us as Canadians de-
volves the whole responsibility. We
have a place on this continent which is
our own, alongside of a friendly neigh-
bour with whom we are closely allied
by natural ties. Towork out our nation-
al life, not as a counter-irritant to theirs,
but with collateral aims, seems to be
the path of duty. We have attained a
vigorous manhood, our national boun-
107
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
daries are fairly well defined, and
within their radius we have our own
problems to solve in carving out the
future of Canada.
A careless, or off some tongues a
designed, expression is often used,
that "Posterity has done nothing for
me. Ergo, it is my privilege to drink
to the dregs the present life which is
mine." The sentiment is weak. The
man or the woman who cares little what
comes after them in private, municipal,
provincial or national life does a wrong
which dips far into the future, and a
wrong which it is difficult to remedy.
Wasting our national resources is just
as bad as wasting our individual phys-
ical resources. The first duty of our
naiional Government in order to
tnaintun its national strength, which
is proportioned to the respect it is able
to maintain among the nations of the
earth for good government, is to pre-
serve its financial strength. The plea
that the national Government is re-
sponsible for the prosperity of the indi-
viduals composing the (lation does not
hold good except in the wisdom of the
laws which regulate their action one
towards another.
What is the financial strength of our
national Government or of any Govern-
ment? It is its taxable power, the
revenue from which should be a reflex
of the prosperity of the people ; to the
extent that it divides that taxable power
with class or corporate interests, to
that extent is its financial strength
weakened and its power for good in the
national life of the people is also weak-
ened. We have drifted into a policy
that produces this result. The people
are taxed upon their necessaries of life
for protective purposes ; a small portion
of our industrial classes are protected
by a tax against outsiders. To the ex-
tent which that taxation is imposed the
revenue derived from that taxation is
divided between the manufacturers and
protected industries on one side, with
the Government on the other, whereas
the whole of the taxation the people
are called upon to bear should be
diverted solely into the treasury.
Take our iron industry for an ex-
ample ; a protective duty was imposed
upon our pig iron of $4.00 per ton,
now reduced to $2.50. At the end of
fourteen years this has resulted, in 1898,
in a production of 77,000 tons in the
whole of Canada, while our neighbours
to the south produce 15,000,000 tons,
and Great Britain 13,000,000 tons.
That duty on pig iron necessitated
duties all along the line of iron indus-
tries ranging up to forty per cent. , en-
tailing last year a direct tax of $3, 500,-
000 on imports which went into the
revenue, and a corresponding amount
of taxation induced by the monopoly,
the proceeds of which went into the
pockets of protected classes. What for?
To bring into life the production of raw
material to the extent of 77,000 tons,
valued at $770,000 ! Whereas by giv-
ing the iron workers free iron they
would be in a better position to hold
the home market, and also to compete
in the foreign market, and a tax of
$9,000,000 divided between the revenue
and private parties would not be rest-
ing upon the people.
Another example : take spirits; the ex-
cise is$i.90pergallon,thedutyis$3.40,
the difference, fifty cents, should go to
the treasury but it goes to build up
private fortunes. In England the ex-
cise is $3.50, the duty is four cents
less, consequently the Government get
all there is in the taxation.
And so you can go through the
whole range of customs taxation. In
England the whole of the taxation goes
to revenue ; in Canada it is divided
with favoured classes. In the United
States it is the same. A forcible feat-
ure has presented itself there from the
fact that the excess of exports over im-
ports is enormous. Twelve hundred
and sixty millions was the value of the
exports last year, and the imports
are six hundred and fifty millions less ;
twice as much of their material re-
sources has gone out of the couirtry
as has been returned to it. The why
and the wherefore has yet to be ascer-
tained ; it is presumably the effect of
high protective taxation which drains
the country and paralyzes the revenue.
In Great Britain the reverse condi-
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A NEW NATIONAL POLTCY
109
tioDS prevail, and there is a great re-
dundancy of revenue, because no pri-
vate interest divides with the Govern-
ment the taxes which the people bear.
That principle does not retard the ac-
cumulation of wealth, for their statis-
tics show that the same rate of income
tax produces for the revenue ten million
dollars a year more to-day than it did
ten years ago.
Their navigation laws are based on
liberty of action which, with the foster-
ing principles of free trade, have made
the British Isles the greatest maritime
power in the world. The Imperial
Government acts upon the principle
that competition brings the reserve
power of the people into the fullest
play for the benefit of the nation, while
coddling enervates the powers of those
large interests which act as the main-
spring of our national life.
To cite an example of the efforts of
our people to make water run up hill.
The town of Midland has just voted a
bonus of fifty thousand dollars for
smelting works, to be constructed by
some of our large protected capitalists
in Montreal. The taxation of the people
commences there. Then the people as
a whole are to be taxed on the product
by the protective duty. Again, there is
a bonus of three dollars a ton on iron
produced by the Dominion Government,
and two dollars a ton by the Ontario
Government.
Here the taxable power of the people
is used up for class interests. In the
Mesaba range, south of the Canadian
boundary on Lake Superior, iron ore
is laid ready for shipment for fifty cents
a ton, is conveyed cheaply to Cleveland
or other places where it meets untaxed
coal and is converted into iron which
is sold for nine dollars a ton. We do-
nate by burdensome taxation eight dol-
lars before we can secure the produc-
tion of a ton. Now, the harbour of
Midland, at the terminus of the Mid-
land Railway system, is for progressive
purposes away ahead of any industry
bolstered by such a false system, but
here protective taxation again inter-
venes. We have burdened the railway
with enormous tax-bearing securities.
and we have made our Canadian marine
a close preserve, satisfied with a small
business but large profits. Conse-
quently, while the great lakes to ihe
west are covered with shipping and in-
dustrial life. Midland, the most natural
outlet, only hears the hum from a dis-
tance. The remedy is, allow the freest
competition for the American marine
to come to Canadian ports, which
will put fresh blood into Canadian
shipping. Canadian shipping is at
liberty to compete, and does com-
pete with American shipping in carry-
ing from a Canadian port to an Ameri-
can port, or from an American to a Can-
adian port, but it has a different rate in
carrying from a Canadian port to a
Canadian port where it has a monopoly.
There is another phase of this large
question which experience is opening
out to our senses. Why should we
not have free trade with Great Britain?
Why should we not give greater atten- '
tion to production which is the creation
of new wealth ? Protection to manu-
factures is a tax on production, and
the market for manufactures under a
different system might be enlarged in
foreign markets, while all that produ-
cers ask is to be relieved of the manu-
facturers' tax. The principle of ex-
change in an international sense has
not been sufficiently studied. Great
Britain admits our products free, the
United States takes them. We tax the
product of British labor 28 or 39 per
cent. She is debarred from purchas-
ing from us, except what she actually
requires because we refuse to allow her
trade to return. The statement can
hardly be questioned that if there were
no tax on the product of British labour
except through our excise laws they
would become larger purchasers, and
Canadian producers would get better
prices for what they sell to them.
Inaccommodatingourtradiog powers
to new conditions, our attention is
naturally first attracted to that market
that furnishes us with a constant and
ever-growing free sale. It must be
admitted that Great Britain is our best
and most profitable customer ; how to
enlarge our trade with her, so that we
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
caa add to the material wealth of
Canada from the natural resources
with which our country abounds should
be our first care. We have fostered
our manufactures for twenty years
until they have outg'rown the small
market-Canada offers, and a different
stimulus requires to be applied. That
is cheaper raw material aind an en-
larged market by an application of the
Canadian view of free trade, which is,
'' free on both sides." The only mar-
ket we have the opportunity of apply-
\Xi% that principle to is the British mar-
ket. The idea that we must first force
it to become a protective market in our
favour before we can apply those prin-
ciples is not sound. We ourselves
have the opportunity of applying the
principles of free exchange; it is for us
to adopt them. If our exports are ad-
mitted free and we tax the return
trade 30 per cent, somebody besides
the producer of those exports gets the
difference, that is clear. By the re-
moval of that 30 per cent. , unquestion-
ably production becomes more profit-
able.
Take iron ore as an example. Eng-
land requires ore to aid in the produc-
tion of her twelve million tons of iron.
Tax her trade and she cannot pur-
chase it. Remove the tax and she
will come here and look for it. Iron
ore is now being placed ready for ship-
ment at the head of Lake Superior for
fifty cents a ton for American smelters
twelve hundred miles distant, and this
enables them to produce cheap iron. It
is equally advantageous on the Cana-
dian side. Take off the tariff against
British trade and we wiii open out a
large market for Canadian ore, which is
excluded from the United Slates market
by a tax of fifty cents a ton. The pro-
duction and transportation of that
trade would grow to large dimensions,
without absorbing any of the taxable
power of the Canadian people ; the
additional water transportation would
not be a bar to the trade with the
United Kingdom.
The market for wood pulp would
under like conditions be transferred
from the American market to the Brit-
ish market In the case of lumber it
would be the same, and so we might
go through the whole list of Canada's
resources. No one will deny that our
farmers will have their productive cap-
acity increased by the removal of the
burdensome tax against their principal
and most profitable customer. Produc-
tion from the soil is the great source of
Canada's wealth, and no industry suffers
so much from the tax on the internation-
al trade for their surplus products asour
agricultural community. No one ap-
preciates that more than our western
farmers. Remove the tax on our
trade with Great Britain on the broad
principle of free exchange, and there
will be fresh life run through every
artery of Canadian industry. By in-
creasing the productive capacity and
the consequent increase in wealth of
Canada's resources, no injury will befall
any industry. Add free iron, coal and
coal-oil to the general free-list and a
great impetus will be given to the in-
dustry of our iron-workers.
These are principles of trade which
new conditions force upon our atten-
tion. We find that under our present
system of monopoly, which gathers
under protective taxation that the
laxable power, which should alone exist
'or national strength, is being trans-
'erred in undue proportions to private or
class interests. The effort in our polit-
ical life is a race for selfish control, and
fastening by legislation the chains of
commercial and political serfdom. The
welfare of the nation, or the prosperity
of the masses has little place in our
political controversy under these cir-
cumstances.
The alienation of taxable power is
most easily shown in coal oil. South
of the boundary it retails at ten cents a
gallon, north it retails at 25 cents a
gallon. The consumption is 19,000,000
gallons refined oil, of which about 11,-
000, OCX) is produced and 8,000,000 im-
ported, ThedifFerence represents the tax-
ablepower. Fifteen cents on 19,000,000
gallons is $2,850,000, of which the
Government only receives $400,000, or
five cents a gallon on the eight million
gallons imported. The strength of the
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DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY
national GoverDmeat depends upon
keeping under its 4wn control, so far
as possible, the taxable power of the
people. A strong national Govern-
ment based upon wisdom and justice
redounds to the welfare and comfort of
the whole population. A national
Government weakened by the aliena-
tion of its taxable power necessarily
becomes subordinate to those influ-
ences that have absorbed the taxable
In the days of old, when chivalry
was at its height, Robin Hood took
from the rich and gave to the poor,
and ran his risk of the gallows ; in
these days the reverse obtains, and
tribute is now levied on the poor and
given to the rich by a system of legis-
lation that is termed by the opponents
of the system "legalized robbery."
The people of Great Britain have
learned the lesson, and the secret of
their great strength in a national sense
is the result of sound experience in
governing, and broad principles in
finance. To save the taxable power
from undue private exploitation, so
that the wealth of the country will re-
spond to the requirements of revenue,
for national strength in proportion to
its acquisition is the duty of the hour
in Canada.
C. A. Boulton.
DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY*
I. THE INFERNO.
"pHE place of Dante in the first
^ rank of the literary men of the
world is, like that of Homer and
Shakespeare, established and unassail-
able. His great poem, called by him
La Commedia, to which a sure human
mslinct has added Divina, is, by uni-
versal consent, one of the great pos-
sessions of the human race. It is call-
ed a comedy, Dante says in his dedica-
tion to Can Grande della Scala, be-
cause it " begins with adversity. . . .
■ . but its matter ends prosperously."
The succession of visions recorded in
this poem was granted to Dante on
the intercession of Beatrice for the
establishment of his faith, and for the
removal of his doubts. He was to be
conducted by Virgil first through the
abodes of the lost and then through
the place of purification ; and, after-
wards Beatrice was to guide him
through the regions of the saved. The
first (Hell) was the place of retri-
bution and despair ; the second (Pur-
gatory) the place of cleansing and of
hope ; the third (Paradise) the place of
fruition and of intimate communion
with God.
Dante, writing in his thirty-fifth
year, ( " in the middle of the journey of
our life ") tells how he finds himself
endeavouring to climb a mountain in
order to escape from a forest in which
he had become entangled. Here he
was encountered by three beasts, a
panther, a lion, and a she-wolf, (a ref-
erence to Jeremiah v. 6 ; cf. i John ii.
1 6) representing the vices of volup-
tuousness, pride and avarice ; and in
their second intention, Florence,
France, and the Papal Court. Whilst
overwhelmed with fear and losing
all hope of ascending the mountain,
Dante was met by Virgil who told him
of his purpose to lead him first through
the "spirits of old tormented," and
next those " who dwell content in
fire." After some hesitation he con-
sents to accompany him whom he re-
gards as his master (il maestro), and
they arrive at the gate of hell.
Very remarkable and noteworthy is
the inscription they found there. Every
phrase of it deserves study.
•' Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain i
Through me among the people lost for aye.
•The first of three papers by Professor William Clarlt. of Trinity College, Toronto,
Digitized byGoOgIC
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Juslice, the founder of my fabric moved.
To rear me was the work of power divine,
Supreinest wisdom and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon, ye who enter here."
Let us retnember we are here com-
ing to the abode cX the lost, the im-
penitent, the hopeless. We have no
reason to doubt that Dante held the
doctrine of hts age and of the great
doctors, like S. Thomas Aquinas. But
we may also see in the pictures of mis-
ery which he presents to us, the fruits
and consequences of sin in this life.
In the case of the impenitent this loss
is insuperable. In the second class,
the dwellers in Purgatory, there is
purification with the hope of bliss ; and
in Paradise fellowship with God. We
have here represented what theolog-
ians call the punitive state, the pui^a-
tive, the illuminative, and the uni-
We note here that the inscription
declares Hell to be the work of Justice
and of the Holy Trinity, represented
by Power, Wisdom and Love. Hell is
the first of created things, inasmuch as
taw enters along with existence and
exists for ever.
In regard to the structure of hell,
Dante departs to some extent from the
theory of the school-meo. They repre-
sented Hell and Purgatory as being
beneath the earth, and divided into
four compartments : i. Hell, the
abode of devils and the lost, the
place of despair. 2. Purgatory, the
place of penance and purification, ad-
jacent to Hell, but different, the place
of hope. 3. Limbus Infantum, the
place of unbaptized children. ^. Lim-
bus Patrum, or Abraham's bosom, in-
habited by the righteous who died be-
fore Christ. They further taught that
Heaven consisted of three parts: 1.
The visible Heaven, or the firmament.
3. The spiritual Heaven, the abode of
angels and saints. 3. The intellectual
Heaven, where the blessed enjoy the
vision of God.
Dante's representation is different.
According to him, there is outside hell
proper, but within the gate, a vestibule
occupied by the cowards and the unde-
cided, hateful to hesfven and hell alike.
Hell itself is a conical gulf in the earth
made by Lucifer when he was precipi-
tated from heaven, and the making of
this cavity within the earth caused the
formation of a conical erection outside,
which became the hill of purgatory.
Within the inverted cone of hell there
are nine circles in all, larger at the top
and naturally narrowing as they des-
cend. Sins resolvethemselves into two
great classes, those of infirmity, and
those partaking of malice. Generally
they are represented as the perversion
of good and of man's powers. Sins of
weakness are less heinous in their
nature, but comprehend larger numbers
of men and women. As, in the descent,
they gain in intensity, they lose in ex-
tension ; yet the subdivisions increase,
for example, there are ten kinds of
The seven cardinal sins represented
in the Inferno are 1 i. Incontinence ; 2,
gluttony; 3, avarice; 4, anger ; 5,
heresy ; 6, violence ; 7, fraud. The sins
are enumerated in a somewhat different
manner, and in an inverse order, in the
Purgatorio, as we shall see. But we
return to the vestibule of the cowardly
and undecided. Here all Dante's scorn
and contempt breaks forth. If a sense
of justice had not restrained him, his
indignation would have sent them deep-
er. As it is, he brings out the loath-
someness of such a character. Dante
would seem to have good authority for
his estimate. We are all familiar with
the passage in the song of Deborah in
which Meroz is cursed because of the in-
difference of its inhabitants. Even
more striking is the imagery in which
theLord of theChurch sets forth his feel-
ing of disgust towards lukewarm Lao-
dicea, and if we may pass from these
lofty heights to modern secular litera-
ture, we have in the " Tomlinson " of
Mr. Rudyard Kipling an admirable and
powerful picture of one who is "too
bad for blessing, and not bad enough
for banning." It is of this class that
Virgil speaks the words so often quot-
ed : " Speak not of them, but look and
pass them by." {Non raggiotmm di
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DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY
113
loro, ma gtutrda e passa. ) Dante adds :
" Forthnrith
I undentood, for certAin, this tbe tribe
Of those ill s|»rits both to God displeanug
And to His foea."
One figure was singled' out for
special notice, " the shade of him, who
to base fear yielding abjured his high
estate." (In the original the often
quoted words, " Che/eceperinltate il
gran rifiuto.") The reference is gener-
ally supposed to be to Pope Celestine
v., who gave up the papal throne from
a sense of unworthiness. It was char-
acteristic of Dante to lack sympathy
with such a character. Still to ordin-
ary mortals it is satisfactory to know
that the Church took a more favourable
view, for Celestine was canonized A. D.
1313-
They now came to the River Acheron,
identified by Virgil with the Styx.
Across this river the lost are ferried by
Charon. The sights and sounds of
horror, the earthquake and lightning
flame which followed, Dante says,
"all my senses conquered," and he
dropped down, "as one with sudden
slumber seized." But he was awaken-
ed by "a crash of heavy thunder"
which "broke the deep slumber in my
brain " ; and now he found himself 00
the brink of the "lamentable vale."
In the first circle he finds the Limbus
of the uabaptized, those who have been
guilty of no wilful sin against God.
With a fine discrimination Dante repre-
sents those dwelling in Limbus as
suffering no torments, but only ex-
periencing longings which are never
satisfied. Even if we do not follow
Dante in his picture of the unseen
world, we have here a striking repre-
sentation of the longing of the world
without God. "The whole creation
groaneth and travaileth in pain." And
there is a hint given that the doors of
Limbus are not hermetically sealed.
Virgil gives an account of the visit of
"a puissant one," who had removed
some from that place (a reference to i
Peter iii. 19). They socjn encounter a
band of five poets, from Homer down-
wards. Dante is admitted to their
Dumber, and Virgil being one, he be-
comes the seventh. Next they en-
counter heroes and sages, and pre-
eminent among the latter, the great
Aristotle whom Dante describes as " il
maestro di color che saano " (the mas-
ter of those who know), a grand phrase
which Cary translates, not with his
accustomed felicity, "the master of
the sapient throng."''^
We now come to the second circle,
containing the first class of sinners,
those guilty of concupiscence, passion,
incontinence. Minas examines those
who enter, and determines their place.
We note here, of Dante, in his inter-
course with the lost, the union of pity
and compassion with inexorable jus-
tice. With profound insight he repre-
sents the occupants of this circle, the
incontinent, as tossed about incessantly
in the dark air, and swept along by
hurricanes.
Smites on mine ear. Into & place I came
Where li^ht was silent all. Bellowing; there
g;roa.ned
A noise, as of a sea in tempest ton)
By waving winds — the stormy blast of hdi.
With restless fury drives the spirits on.
Whirled round and dashed amain with sore
And blasphemies 'gainst the good power in
I understood that to this torment sad
The carnal sinners are condemned, in whom
Reason by lust is swayed."
Of all the inhabitants of the second
circle there were two who principally
attracted the attention of Dante, and
whose names are familiar to all stu-
dents of the Commedia, Francesca da
Rimini and her lover and brother-in-
law, Paolo, son of Malatesta, Lord of
Rimini. Loving Paolo, she had been
married against her will to his brother
Lanciotto, who one day surprised them
and slew them. Francesca tells the
pathetic story to Dante, feeling the
pain of it :
*On the whole, the writer has no hesitation
in regarding; Gary's translation of Dante as'
the hest representation of the original.
,Gooj^lc
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
These beautiful words have often
been imitated, by Italian poets, by
Chaucer in his " Troilus and Cres-
cide" (xiv. too), but by none more
nobly than by Tennyson in " Locksley
Hall" ■
" This is tnitli the poet sings,
That a
I or SI
tiering' happier
The humanity of the story comes
out in several parts. Thus in all the
grief and suffering; of Francesca it
was a satisfaction to know that she
would never be separated from Paolo.
Telling the story of their love, she
" Then he who ne'er
From me stiall separate, at once my lips
All trembling kissed."
So, in speaking of the husband and
brother, who had killed them, she
Lanciotto, at least, was doomed to
Calna in the lowest hell.
They next pass on to the third circle
in which the second form of sensual
sin, gluttony, is punished. The glut-
tons, certainly including the drunk-
ards, although these are not mentioned
by name, are condemned to lie In the
mire under a heavy storm of hail,
snow, and discoloured water. Cer-
berus, the three-headed dog of hell,
" barks as a dog."
" He tears the spirits, flays them, and their
limbs piecemeal disparts," while Ihey lie
" howlinff."
as :
■'Curs under the rainy deluge."
The sin of avarice, together with that
of prodigality, is punished in the fourth
circle. Here are two different sides of
the same order of evil. This circle is
appropriately guarded by Plutus, the ■
god of wealth, When we remember
that Aristotle ascribes a worse char-
acter to avarice than to prodigality,
and that this is the popular judgment,
we may venture to attribute a deeper
insight to Dante, who represents both
classes as rolling great weights and
smiting against each other, hurling
mutual reproaches of giving and with-
holding, without attempting to adjust
the balance of guiltiness.
From these they pass on to the fifth
circle, in which is the fourth form of sin,
the Stygian lake of hatred and sadness,
the sin of anger. Here the irascible
and the sullen are immured. Only a
few lines are given to these forms of
evil, but how striking they are. Here
is violent anger :
" A miry (ribe, all naked, and with looks
Betokening rage. They with their hands
Struck not, but with Ihe head, the breast,
the feet.
Cutting each other piecemeal with their
fangs."
And thus the sullen, lying in slime,
are represented as describing them-
selves :
" Sad oni-c were we
In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun,
Carrying a foul and lazy mist within :
Now in these murky settlings are we sad."
With anger pride is associated, and
rightly. Moreover, pride was regarded
by the great doctors as the very es-
sence of sin ; and this is perhapii the
reason why it has no special place here,
as in the Purgatorio. Here the forms
of evil are punished ; there the princi-
ples are purged away.
We now come to the city of Dis
(Lucifer), the beginning of the lower
Hell, in which the more heinous sins,
those of malice, are punished. In the
sixth circle we meet with something
intermediate between infirmity and
malice, the sin of Heresy. The de-
scription of this circle extends over
four cantos. The heretics are thrust
into fiery tombs, not to be closed until
the day of judgment. From beneath
the coverings of the tombs, suspended
above them, there come the moans ol
tortured spirits of heresiarchs and their
followers. Dante meets here with
some whom he had known on earth,
e.g., Farinata degli Uberti, insolent
and heretical, assuming a superiority,
a reproach which the poet flung back
upon him — in both cases, a reminis-
cence of some experiences on earth.
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DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY
In the seventh circle we come
upon the sixth class of sins, that of
malice ; there are several divisions.
First we come to the violent malicious
(Cantos xii. to xvi.); and these are
divided into three classes. The descent
is by a precipitous chasm, formed by
the earthquake which convulsed hell
at the descent of our Lord thither, when
He came to carry "off from Uis the
mighty Spoil," They came to the
river of btood, in which those are pun-
ished who have injured others fay
violence. The three rounds of the
violent are those guilty of violence,
first, to their neighbours ; secondly, to
themselves ; thirdly, to God ; and in
each case it may be either to person or
to property, i. First come murderers
and tyrants in a torrent of boilingblood
(i) Alexander, Attila, etc. ; (2) rob-
bers, etc. 3. Next come, in the
second class (i) suicides, (2) gamblers.
Under this head he incidentally in-
veig'hs against envy :
" The harlot who ne'er turned her glonling;
pest."
Dante confessed to much pride in
himself, although but little envy ;
and he is specially bitter in his denun-
ciation of this vice as that which had
chiefly contributed to his expulsion
trooi Florence. 3. The third kind of
vicdence is that which is committed
against God ; and the two classes of
olTenJers are (1) blasphemers, and (2}
sinners against Nature aod against
Art. Among the first they met Ca-
paneus, one of the seven kings of
Theb«s, who "held God in disdain,"
presenting an example of inveterate
rebellion. "Such," he says :
" Such as I was
When living, dead such now I am,"
And here sin is seen in the punishment
of sin. The sin against Nature is
represented by Bruoetto Latini, a
friend and teacher of Dante ; and here
come out his affectionate remembrances
of all the man's excellences, coupled
with condemnation of his sin ; and he
would rather dwell upon
than upon the darker side of his his-
tory. Last in the seventh circle came
the usurers.
This brings us to the eighth circle in
whichand in the following and last is the
seventh form of sin. Fraud is punish-
ed (Cantos xvii. to xxxil.) Arriving at
the torrent of Phlegethon, they are
carried acro.ss by the ruler of the
fraudulent, Geryon, a personification
of fraud, whose appearance agrees with
his character. Like the Centaurs and
the Harpies, he combines the forms of
man and beast — a man above and a
creeping snake and deadly scorpion
below. His face is that of a righteous
man, kind and gracious, his body that
of a speckled serpent. "That image
vile of fraud " is thus described :
"His face the semblance ofa just man's wore.
So kind and gracious was its outward cheer ;
The rest was serpent all ; two shag'i^ claws
Reached to the armpits, and the back and
heart,
And either side were painted o'er with nodes
And orbits, Colours variegated more
Nor Turks nor Tartars eer on cloth o( slate
With interchang^eable embroidery wove,
Nor spread Arachne o'er her curious loom. . .
So on the rim that fenced the sand with rock
Sat perched the fiend of evil. In the void
Glancing his tail upturned its venomous fork,
With sting-like scorfMOns armed." (xmi. 7 H.)
The eighth circle is divided into ten
gulfs or pits, and presents various dif-
ferences from the seventh which con-
tained the violent. (i) These were
placed on a wide plain, the fraudulent
are sunk in deep trenches ; and the
craftier they had been, the deeper the
cleft^. (2) The holes are hewn in rocks
hard as iron, as if to show that a more
hardened heart is needed for fraud than
for violence. (3) In the upper circles
the passage is from left to right ; here
they are from right to left, as showing
a more tortuous character. There are
in this circle no fewer than ten circular
and concentric trenches, showing the
numerous varieties of fraud.
These ten trenches are peopled as
follows : (i) By the seducers of women
and panderers, marching along in op-
posite directions, scourged and lashed
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
by horned demons. (2) By flatterers,
buried to the mouth in horrid filth, flat-
tery being a more hidden evil. The
flatterers, like dogs, licked filth on
earth, and are therefore condemned to
a like punishment. (3) Next come
Simonia.ns, followers of Simon Magus,
trafficking in sacred things, here plung-
ed head foremost into burning holes,
their feet projecting, (xix. 26.) Dante re-
gards their punishment withgreat satis-
faction. Although several popes are
among them, Dante disowns all dis-
respect to the papal see. (1. 104.) {4)
In the fourth trench are soothsayers,
astrologers and those who, by unlaw-
ful means, pried into the future, who
are now condemned to have their faces
turned, looking backwards. (5) Next
come corrupt ofiicials, barterers, or
public peculators. Dante's experience
of Florence taught him ; but Lucca, he
says, was worse. (6) Next come the
hypocrites, walking with downcast
eyes, golden outside, leaden within.
Among these are Caiaphas, Annas and
other members of the Jewish Sanhe-
drim, trodden on by all who pass. (7}
Next are thieves tormented by venom-
ous and pestilent serpents, (xxiv. 89.]
(8) Next are evil counsellors, men who
have put their talents to bad purpose
in misleading others by their advice.
They are hidden within the flames from
which their voices come forth. In one
of these sheets of flame, parted at the
summit, are the souls of Ulysses and
Diomede, devisers of the wooden horse.
(9) Next come sowers of schism and
strife, children of the devil, as the peace-
makers are children of God. A demon
hews their bodies asunder and cuts ofl'
their tongues and hands. The body of
Mahomet is rent from head to foot.
(10) Last in this circle are forgers and
coiners, liars and calumniators, and
impersonators. Coiners are in the last
agony of dropsy ; calumniators are in
burning fever, abusing and striking one
another.
The ninth and last circle is still occu-
pied with the sin of fraud, but in a yet
more malignant form. We have here
traitors and abusers of confidence.
The sinners here appear as giants be-
cause of the greatness of their sins.
They are immured in four chasms (1)
Caiina, where are betrayers of relatives ;
(2) Antenora — traitors to their country;
(3) Ptolomea — deceivers under the form
ofkindness; (4) Gtudecca — betrayersof
benefactors. In the midst of them
Lucifer. The Coeytus, the fourth river
in Hell, here forms a vast sea of ice.
It " liker seemed to glass than water."
In this frozen lake the worst sinners
are imprisoned, the icy cold represent-
ing selfishness and isolation. The
sufferers regard each other with mutual
rage and hatred. In Giudecca, Satan
is at the centre of the gulf, with wings
like the sails of a gigantic windmill,
freezing all around. At the centre of the
earth he is wedged in eternal tee, half
of his form toward his awful kingdom,
while his legs protrude towards the
southern hemisphere. He has three
faces, symbolic of the three kinds of sin,
and of the three powers which prevent
Italy and man from realizing their des-
tiny. In each of his three mouths he
champs a sinner ; in the middle one,
Judas, the betrayer of Christ ; in the
two others Brutus and Cassius, the
murderers of Caesar. Here we see
Dante's Ghibelline tendencies.
In this great poem there is much
material for thought. Dante is indeed a
preacher of righteouness, who has the
deepest insight into the things of man,
and the things of God. He has received
the homage of the best and the wisest
of men for many centuries, and we
may do well to try our own spiritual
vision and insight by our success in
wrestling with his thoughts.
WUliam Clark.
Digitized byGoOgIC
PIERRE RADISSON, BUSHRANGER.
BY HECKLES WILLSON.
NorE. — In the May number of (he Canadian Magazine were described the exploits of Ra-
disson and Groseilliers, the two fur-traders lo whom Ihe inceplion of the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany is due. It will be recalled that they captured Fort Nelson (afterwards York Factory),
and carried off the English, their former associates, prisoners to a French fori. Bui in spile
of this betrayal, Radisson seems to have hankered after the Company's ^od-wlll and employ-
merl. He soon afterwards returned to France, leaving Choiiarl, his nephew, in charge of
Fort Bourbon. These chapters, filll of highly important unpublished material, form part of Ihe
history of the Hudson's Bay Company, shortly to be published under Ihe title of " The Great
Company."
[ORD PRESTON
*^ who held in the
year 1 684 the post of
Ambassador Extra-
ordinary of King
Charles II. at the
Court of Versailles,
was advised of
the return to Paris
of the bushranger
Radisson in these
terms :
" My Lord ; It
has just reached our
ears and that of his
Roval Highness the
Duke of York, Gov-
ernor of the Hon-
ourable Hudson's
Bay Company, that
the person who has
caused all the recent
trouble in the Hud-
son's Bay regions
whereby our mer-
chants have suffered
so much at the
hands of the French,
is at this moment in
Paris. As it is ■«-""**"""""'""'"<"•'"''""''■"■''■>-■
much in the inter- piehre esprit radisson.
ests of the nation as
of the company that there should be no vinced from his previous conduct that
repetition of these encroachments and it matters little to Mr. Radisson under
disturbances it might be advantageous whose standard he serves, and that,
for your Lordship to see this Mr. Radis- besides, he is secretly well-disposed to-
son who, it is believed, could be ward us, and this in spite of his late
brought over again to our service if be treacherous exploits which have given
■were so entreated by your Lordship. great offence to the nation and damage
His Royal Highness, together with the to the Company."
other Honourable partners, are con- This private note was signed by Sir
("7)
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
John Hayes and Mr. Young on be-
half of the company. On its receipt
by Lord Preston, he at once sent
an emissary, Captain Godey, to seek
out Radisson and make overtures
to him. On the third floor of a house
in the Faubourg St. Antoine, sur-
rounded by a number of his relations
and boon companions, the dual
traitor was discovered, deeply engaged
in drinking healths and in retailing his
adventures to the applause of an ap-
preciative circle. Upon the walls and
mantelpiece of the apartment and
such meagre furniture as it boasi.ed,
were disposed numerous relics and
trophies, bespeaking a thirty years'
career in the Transatlantic wilderness.
"Radisson himself," remarks Godey,
"was app;irel1ed more tike a savage
than a Christian. His black hair, just
touched with grey, hung in a wild pro-
fusion about his bare neck and shoul-
ders. He showed a swart complexion,
seamed and pitted by frost and expos-
ure in a rigorous climate. A huge
scar, wrought by the tomahawk of a
drunken Indian, disfigured his left
cheek. His whole costume was sur-
mounted by a wide collar of marten's
skin; his feet were adorned by buck-
skin moccasins. In his leather belt
was sheathed a long knife. " Such was
the picture presented by this uncouth,
adventurous Huguenot, not merely
in the seclusion of his own lodgings,
but to the polished and civilized folk
of Paris of the seventeenth century.
What were the projects harbour-
ed in this indomitable man's mind ?
In spite of his persistent intrigues it is
to be doubted if he, any more than
M^dard Chouart des Groseilliers, was
animated by more than a desire to
pursue an exciting and adventurous
career. Habitually holding out for the
best terms, he does not appear to have
saved money when it was acquired, but
spent it freely. When he died he was
in receiptor a pension from the Com-
piiny, So far insufficient to provide for
his manner of living that they were
forced to pay his remaining debts.
Unabashed by the surroundings thus
presented to him, Captain Godey an-
nounced himself, shook hands with
the utmost cordiality with Radtsson,
and pleaded to be allowed to join in
the convivial proceedings then in pro-
gress, Thebetter to evince his sincer-
ity,without further ceremony he accept-
ed and drank as full a bumper of bad
brandy and applauded with as much
heartiness as any man of the party, the
truly astonishing tales of their host.
Godey, was the last of the guests to
depart.
" Look you," said he, when he and
Radisson were alone together, "you,
monsieur, are a brave man, and it
does not become the brave to harbour
vengeance. Nor does it become
a brave nation to think hardly
of any man because of his bravery,
even though that nation itself be a suf-
ferer. You know," he pursued, " what
is said about you in England ? "
Radisson interrupted his guest by
protesting with suspicious warmth that
he neither knew nor cared anything
about such a matter.
" It is said, then," answered Godey,
"that you have been a traitor to the
king, and that there is no authority or
defence for your conduct. You and
Groseilliers, whilst professing friend-
ship for the EnglishCompany have done
them great injury, and endangered the
peace between the two crowns."
To this Radisson made rejoinder :
" I am sorry ; but all that I and my
brother-in-law have done, is to be laid
at the door of the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany. We wished honestly to serve
them, but they cast us away as being no
longer useful, when now they see what
it is they have done, and how foolishly
they have acted in listening to the
counsels of Governor Bridgar. We
really bear them no ill-will, neither
the company nor his Royal High-
*ln " RadissOD'H Relation" there occurs
the following' passagre :
" I acknowledge the disappointment 1 felt
a( being obliged to leave (he English service
on account of the ill-trca(ment 1 had received
and that I would not be sorry to reliim, being
in a. beUer position than before lo render ser-
vice lo the king and nation if justice were
done me and my services recognized."
, Google
PIERRE RADISSON. BUSHRANGER
Digitized byGoOgIC
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
The gallant emissary reported the
tenor of this conversation forthwith
to his master, and both were agreed
as to the sort of man they had to deal
with. Godey expressed himself con-
vinced that there would be little diffi-
culty in inducing Radisson to return to
the Company's service. On this advice
Preston at once wrote off to Mr.
Young telling him not to further press
the Company's memorial to the king,
nor lo seek
to have the
F r e n c h
court take
wrong s
done the
English in-
" Radisson
has done
this thing
out of his
own head,
and he is
the one man
competent
indo it.
He
I
learn, well-
disposed to
theEnglish,
and there is
no reason if
proper over-
tures be
made him.
why he prince
should not
do more for /-™-. iht p^-Mi^,^ «/ sir p^er i..
the English
interests in that region than he has yet
done."
At the same time La Barre, the
French governor, was urged to make
the most strenuous efforts to retain the
advantages gained for the French by
the two adventurers. A royal des-
patch of August 5th, 1683. and sign-
ed by Louis himself, runs as follows:
" [ recommend you to prevent the
English as much as possible from
establishing themselves in Hudson's
Bay, possession whereof was taken in
my name several years ago ; and as
Colonel d'Uoguent,* appointed Gover-
nor of New York by the King of Eng-
land, has had precise orders on the
part of the said king to maintain good
correspondence with us and carefully
to avoid whatever may interrupt it, I
doubt not
the diffi-
culties you
have exper-
ienced will
cease for
the future."
Louis was
by no means
desirous of
rendering
the position
of his fellow
monarch
over the
Channelun-
co m fort-
able. He
was dispos-
ed to yield
in a small
matter
whenhehad
his own way
the large
ones. Had
Charles
yielded to
Ri'pERT. tions about
Port Nelson
y in HTlixtn's Hay Hcuje. Lmdm. he WOuld
have given
great offence to his brolher the Duke
of York. Indeed, there is little doubt
that had the Company not boasted
members of such distinction or the
patronage of royalty, the French
would have at this juncture forced
their demands and overwhelmed the
,Gooj^le
PIERRE R.ID/SSOX, BUSHRANGER
English possession. Radisson appears
to have got wind of the situation and
this was, perhaps, to him a greater
argument for returning to the service
of the power likely to be most perman-
ent in Hudson's Bay. He, however,
hung about idle in Paris for some
weeks in a state of indecision. Had
M. de Seignely exerted his full powers
of persuasion, he might have induced
our bushranger to remain in the ser-
vice of Louis. But no such induce-
ment was offered. There is some
reason to believe that M. de Seignely
undervalued Radisson ; but in any
case the apathy of the court influenced
his actions.
The bushranger wa<!, on the other
hand, ex-
horted to
return to
his first
engage-
m e n t
with the
English,
reality
he arrived at this decision hejis^found
writing to the French Minister de-
manding a certain grant in the north-
west of Canada as an alternative to
a fornier proposal that " in con-
sideration of his former discoveries,
voyages and services he should be
given every fourth beaver, trapped or
otherwise caught in those territories."'
M. de Seignely had no suspicion of
the depth of Radisson's duplicity. The
minister thought him "a vain man,
much given to boasting, who could do
much harm, and had therefore best
have his vanity tickled at home,"
Up to the very eve of his departure,
April 24, 1684, he is seen to be a daily
attendant on the minister or his subor-
dinatesof
the De-
of Marine
and Com-
merce.
He is not
always
favoured
: with an
; audience;
but when
to speaks
vasuely
of fitting
out and
pro posed
he 1
•uld
receive m
England from his Majesty, fiom his
Royal Highness, from the Company,
and from the nation "every sort of
good treatment and entire satisfact-
ion." The Duke's especial protection
ivas also guaranteed. Our not too
punctilious hero at length made up his
mind as to the course he would pursue.
" 1 yielded," says he, " to these
solicitations and determined to go to
England forever, and so strongly bind
myself to his Majesty's service, and to
th;it of those interested in the nation,
that no other cause could ever detach
me from it."
But in order that he might have an
excuse for his conduct, the very day that
»Nv. ping ves-
sels for
trade on voyages similar to those he
had already undertaken. His naivete,
to use no harsher term, is remarkable.
"In order," says he, "that they
should not suspect anything by my
sudden absence, I told them I was
obliged to take a short trip into the
country on friendly family matters. /
myself made good use of this time to go
to London."
He arrived in the English capital on
the loth of May, and immediately paid
his respects to Mr. Young. The project
for regaining possession of York Fac-
tory was canvassed. Radisson estimat-
ed that there would be between fifteen
and twenty thousand beaver skins in
Digitized byGoOgIC
THE CAN A or AN AfAGAZINE
the hands of his nephew, awaiting
shipment. The partners appeared
more than satisfied, and Radisson met
with a most cordial reception. He was
assured that the company had entire
confidence in him, and that their great-
est regret was that there had been any
misunderstanding between them. They
would, it was declared on their behalf,
make all amends in their power.
For a few weeks the Hudson's Bay
bushranger found himself a Hon. He
was presented to the king in the course
of a levee. Charles listened with the
very greatest assumption of interest to
law. He was not wont to dress so
when he was last here, but he has got
him a new coat with much lace upon
it, which he wears with his leather
breeches and shoes. His hair is a per-
fect tangle. It is said he has made an
excellent fortune for himself."
After a number of conferences with
the partners, Radisson finally depart-
ed from Gravesend on May 17, Three
ships set sail, that in which Radisson
was embarked being named " The
Happy Return." The elements being
favourable, the little fleet reached the
Strails more speedily than usual. The
Rrfyadnced /ram h
■■Jqu,
the adventurer's account of himself,
and to his asseverations of loyalty and
good will. Radisson in the evening
was taken to the play-house in the
suite of his Royal Highness, and there
by his bizarre attire attracted almost
as much attention amongst the audience
as (he play itself.
" To the Duke's Play-house," writes
John Selwyn to his wife, "where Radis-
son, the American fur-hunter, was in the
Royal box. Never was such a com-
bination of French, English and In-
dian savage as Sir John Kirke's son-in-
■ rrsuleitre al ihr Red Khxr Colimy iSao-j"
chief figure of this expedition, who had
never borne a part in any joint enter-
prise without being animated by jeal-
ousy and distrust, found here ample
scope for the exercise of his characler-
istic vices. During nearly the entire
period of the voyage he evinced a per-
petual and painful apprehension that
one of the other ships carrying officials
and servants of the company would,
with malicious intentions, arrive before
His first concern on awaking in the
morning was to be assured that the
:y Google
PIERRE RADISSON, BUSHRANGER
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reached contrary winds.
float
mts
of
Rr^raducfd /n,H at old r^Mt-.V "\ Ribami ■• SU
companion vessels were in sight, and
although the "Happy Return" was
the most sluggish sailor of the trio,
yet to such good purpose were ptied
the bushranger's energies and prom-
ises that her commander's seamanship
made her a capital match for the others.
But just before their destination was
brought about
a separation, and Radisson
began to be assailed more
than ever by the fear that
the English servants would
arrive on the ground, over-
whelm his nephew and the
other French without his as-
sistance, and thus frustrate
all his plans for claiming
sole credit. And in truth
this fear was very nearly
justified. Twenty leagues
from Port Nelson the ship
got blocked amidst the mas-
ses of ice, and progress,
except at a raft's pace,
became out of the question.
In this dilemma, Radisson
demanded of the captain a
small boat and seven men.
His request being granted,
'ran Kni- '* **^ launched, and after
undergoing forty-eight
hours' fatigue, without rest
or sleep, the entrance to Nelson River
was reached. Imagine Radisson's sur-
prise, as well as that of his compan-
ions, on beholding two ships at anchor,
: of which a complete stranger
floated the Royal Standard of
to the
Engla
Itv*
English frigate which had
entered at Port
Nelson. The other
ship was the " Al.
ert," commanded
byCaptain Outlaw,
having brought out
the company's new
governor, William
Phipps, the pre-
Radisson boldly
headed his boat for
this vessel, and
when he drew near,
perceived Bridgar's
successor, with all
his people in arms
on the quarter-
deck. The Gover-
Digilized by Google
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
instantly demanded to know who Radis-
son was. Upon his makings himself and
his allegiance known, they decided to
permit him to board the Company's
ship. The bushranger first made it his
care to be informed how the land lay,
and he was inwardly rejoiced to learn
that the Governor and his men had not
dared to land out of fear of the French
and Indians, who were considered
hostile to the English interests. This
was precisely the situation Radisson
most desired ; a thought seems to have
struck him that after all, his nephew,
Chouart, might prove intractable, and
by no means so easily woo over as he
had anticipated. It therefore behooved
him to act with adroitness and circum-
spection. Taking with him two men,
Radisson proceeded up country in the
direction of the abandoned York Fac-
tory, hourly hoping that they might
discover something, or at least th?y
should make someone hear or see a
friendly In' ian by firing musket shots
or making a smoke. The attempt was
not fruitless, as he tells us, for after
a while they perceived ten canoes with
Indians coming down the river. At
first, he says, "1 thought some
Frenchmen might be with them, whom
my nephew might have sent to discover
who the new arrivals were." Upon
this supposition Radisson severed him-
self from his comrades and going to
meet the savages he made the usual
signs to them from the bank, which
the Indians at first seemed to respond
to in no amiable spirit. Albeit, on ad-
dressing them in their own tongue,
he was immediately recognized, the In-
dians testifying by shouts and playful
postures to their joy at his arrival. He
quickly learned from them that his
nephew and the other Frenchmen were
above the rapids, four leagues from
the place where they then were. They
had expected Groseilliers would ac-
company Radisson, and when they ex-
pressed surprise that this was not the
case, Radisson did not scruple to tell
them that Groseilliers awaited him at
a short dii
" But what," asked Radisson, " are
you doing here?' What brings you
into this part of the country and in
such numbers ? "
The savage leader's sudden confusion
betrayed him to Radisson. The cir-
cumstance of the Indians voluntarily
seeking trade with the English greatly
simplified the situation.
" Look you," said he heartily, at the
same time calling to Captain Geyer,
who was in ambush hard by, " I am
glad to find you seeking trade with the
English, I have made peace with the
English for the love of our Indian
brothers ; you, they and I are to be
henceforth only one. Embrace us
therefore in token of peace ; this
(pointing to Geyer) is your new brother.
Go immediately to your son at the fort
yonder and carry him these tidings and
the proofs of peace. Tell him to come
and see me at this place, while the
others will wait for me at the mouth of
the river."
It should be mentioned that the chief
of this band had previously announced
himself as young Chouart's sire, ac-
cording to tlie Indian cu.stom. He
now readily departed on his mission.
Radisson, as may be imagined, pass-
ed an anxious night. The sun had
been risen some hours before his eyes
were gladdened by the sight of a canoe
in which he descried Chouart. The
young man's countenance wore, as well
it might, an expression of profound
amazement ; and at first hardly the
bare civilities of relatio^^hip passed
between the pair. Chouart waited
patiently for his unrle to render an ex-
planation of the news which had reach-
ed him. Silently and slowly they walk-
ed together, and after a time ihe prince
of liars, traitors, adventurers and bush-
rangers began his account of his posi-
tion.
Radisson states that his nephew im-
mediately acquiesced in his scheme. A
memoir penned in 1702, the year of
Radisson's death, by M. Earthier of
Quebec asserts that the young man
received with the utmost disgust and
flatly declined to entertain his re-
lative's proposals. He expressed on
the other hand the greatest grief on
hearing the news ; for he had begun to
Digitized by Google
PIERRE RADiSSOS, BUSHRANGER
believe that it was through
their efforts that the domin-
ion of the king had been
extended in that region.
Now it appeared that this
labour had all been in vain.
It was only his love for his
mother, Radisson's sifter,
which prevented :
of
-ebellion on the part
Chouart against the pro-
posed treachery.
No rupture took place;
the stronger and more
crafty spirit prevailed.
Chouart surrendered on the
following day his command
of the fort. He had, he
complained expected a far
different fate for the place
and his men. The tattered
old fleur de lis standard
brought by the St. Anne's captain from
Quebec was lowered and the English
emblem with the device of the com-
pany, run up in its stead. All the forces
were assembled and amidst cheers for
King Charles and the Honourable Ad-
venturers, the Company's Governor
took formal possession.
But the French bushrangers and sail-
ors watched these proceedings with mel-
ancholy dissatisfaction, not perhaps as
much from patriotic motives as from
the frailty o{ their own tenure. They
could no longer be assured of a live-
lihood amongst so many English, who
bore themselves with so haughty a
Radisson proceeded to make an in-
ventory of all the skins on hand, to-
g-ether with all those concealed in caches
in the woods. The results showed 239
packages of beaver, or about 12,000
skins together with merchandise suffi-
cient to barter for seven or eight thou-
sand more. Instructions were now
g-iven by Radisson, the Governor re-
maining passive, to have all these goods
taken in canoes to the ships.
It now only remained for the bush-
ranger to accomplish only one other
object before setting sail with the cargo
for England. Radisson speaks of him-
self as having a secret commission,
but I can find no authority for his
statement. It involved the reten-
tion in the company's service of his
nephew and the other Frenchmen, and
even assuming that Radisson were
armed with any such instructions, the
plan was not likely to enjoy the ap-
proval of Governor Phipps who, if he
were at the outset of his term of office,
determined upon any one thing, it was
that Port Nelson should be cleared of
Frenchmen. Exactly how this was to
be transacted was not quite clear,
especially as there was yet no open
rupture between the two authorities.
But for such a rupture they had not
long to wait They were destined on
the very eve of his departure to be in-
volved in a quarrel.
Some years before an Assiniboine
chief named Ka-chou-touay had taken
Radisson to his bosom and adopted
him as his sen with all the customary
ceremonies. This formidable chief who
had been at war with a neighbouring
tribe at the time of his adopted son's
arrival in the country, now put in an
appearance. Instead of the joy Radis-
son expected it was with reproaches
that he was greeted. Ka-chou-touay
informed him that a brother chief
of his, named La Barb^, with one of
his sons had been killed while expos-
,Gooj^le
126
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
tulating with a party of English. The
consequence!! of this rash action might
be so grave that Radisson felt it to be
his duty to resort to the Governor and
demand that his servants should be
punished for the crime, or else he would
not be answerable for the consequences.
The Governor does not appear to have
taken Radisson's demand in good part,
declining altogether to intervene in the
matter. The other now proceeded to
commands and threats. He asserted
that as long as he remained in the
country the Governor was his subor-
dinate, which greatly angered that
official and high words passed.
The task the Governor had set him-
self was by no means easy, especially
if he wished to avoid bloodshed. But
the plan of overpowering and disarm-
ing the French was finally accomplished
through strategy. All were escorted
aboard the ship, even to Chouart him-
self, and on the fourth of September
sail was set.
On this voyage Radisson's state of
mind rivalled that which he had ex-
perienced when outward bound. His
late anxietyiobe the first upon the scene
at Port Nelson was paralleled now by his
desire to be first in London. If, happily,
the company should first hear an ac-
count of what had transpired from him-
self he ftfit convinced full measure of
justice would be done him. If, on the
other hand, Governor Phipps' relation
were first received there was no know-
ing how much prejudice might be
raised against him.
Great as was his impatience he
managed to hide it with adroitness, so
that none save his nephew suspected
the intention he shortly executed. The
captain, crew and company's servants
left the ship leisurely at Portsmouth.
Those going up to London lingered for
the coach, but not so with Radisson,
who instantly made hts way to the
post-house, where he hired a second-
rate steed, mounted it and without the
courtesy of an adieu to his late com-
rades, broke into a gallop, hardly
restrained until London bridge was
reached.
His arrival took place close upon
To be Continued.
midnight, but late as was the hour he
took no thought of securing lodging or
of apprizing his wife of his advent-
He spurred on his stumbling horse
to the dwelling of Mr. Young, in
Wood Street, Cheapside. The hon-
ourable adventurer had retired for the
night, but, nevertheless, in gown and
night-cap welcomed Radisson with
great cordiality. He listened, we are
told, with the greatest interest and
satisfaction to the bushranger's tale,
garnished with details of his own mar-
vellous prowess and zeal for the com-
pany. Nor, perhaps, was Radisson
less satisfied when, on attaining his
own lodging, he pondered on the
day's exploits. He slumbered little,
and at eleven o'clock Young was an-
nounced, and was ushered in, declaring
that he had already been to Whitehall
and apprized the Court of the good
news. His Majesty and his Royal
Highness had expressed a wish to see
Radisson, the hero of these great
doings, and Young was accordingly
brought to escort the bushranger into
the Royal presence. It was a triumph,
but a short-lived one. Radisson had
hardly left the precincts of the Court, his
ears still ringing with the praises of
King and courtiers, than the Deputy-
Governor, Mr. Dering, received Phipps'
account of the affair, which was almost
as unfair to Radisson and the part he
had played in the re-capture of Port
Nelson, as Radisson's own account was
flattering.
On the receipt of the report, a Gen-
eral Court of the Adventurers was held
on September 26th. By the majority of
members the bushranger was hardly
likely to be accorded full justice, for
great offence had been given by his
presentation at Court and the extremely
informal manner of his arrival. Despite
the friendliness of Hayes, Young and
several other partners, Radisson was
suspended from any active employment
in the Company's service. Not long
afterwards, I find him in receipt of a
pension of ten pounds a month from the
Company, which he continued to enjoy
for many years to the time of his death
at Islington, in 1702.
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BIRDS OF THE GARDEN/*
I. -SPRING.
EACH spring many birds return from
far Central America to our north
land where they were born and where
they will this season raise their own
young. The marvellous instinct which
guides them in their great immigration
has been a matter of wonder and con-
■euture to men from time immemorial.
We know now nearly where each
species goes to spend the summer and
winter, the time of their arrival at their
destinations and at many points on
their road, the routes by which they
travel, and their rate of travelling.
All this has been carefully observed
and recorded ; but how they are guided
on their course and why they should
leave the far south and pass over what
would appear to be suitable localities
to reach the far north merely for nest-
ing purposes is a still unsolved mystery.
THE ROBIN.
Two of our familiar birds whose
coming is eagerly looked for are the
robin and the blue bird. They always
arrive by the end of the first week in
March. If, however, the weather
should be mild the pioneers may reach
us by the end of February. These are
both very hardy birds whose winter
distribution is governed by the food
supply rather than the temperature.
The bulk of the robins winter in
Louisiana and in eastern and southern
Texas ; but some stay all through their
summer range wherever they find a
sufficiency of berries hanging to the
trees through the winter. Even in
southern Ontario some few always re-
main wherev«r they can find shelter
and feed. At this season they are
g-enerally very subdued and only show
themselves in the open on very fine
days. It is these winter birds whose
appearance in January and February
generally produces the "early robin"
paragraph in our daily papers. These
birds do not fare so well as those that
go south. Their plumage is always
noticeably dingy, the red breast is de-
cidedly bricky, and the black cap dull
and rusty, in marked contrast with
their southern friends whose Easter
clothing has been acquired before they
arrive.
The earliest robins to arrive are
usually adult males. These are follow-
ed about a week later by the main
body, and our woods, gardens and
orchards are then full of them for a few
days. But they soon hurry on and
distribute themselves over the country ;
so that by the first of April the great
majority of them have settled down
into their summer quarters. No soon-
er have they done so than they select
their nesting site and commence build-
ing operations. I have seen nests
completed on the 23rd of April.
The nest is a bulky structure com-
posed of all sorts of material plastered
together with mud and lined with dead
grass. It may be placed anywhere.
I have found them in all sorts of places
from the top of a tree down to the
lowest rail of an old snake fence, and
there seems to be no particular desire
for concealment on the part of the birds.
Four or five beautiful greenish-blue
eggs are laid and the robins will pro-
duce two broods each season.
Young robins appear to be about the
most imbecile little creatures in the
feathered world. As soon as they
gain a little strength in their awkward
baby legs they are sure to climb up on
the edge of the nest and from there
topple over to the ground. When this
occurs about our towns and villages
the vagrant cats grow sleek. The
parent robins at this period are kept in
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128
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
a continued state of agitation and fuss
over their truants. No doubt they
mean well, but if they would learn to be
quiet about their troubles they would
find it better for them. As it is their
useless scolding and noise only attracts
attention to their helpless youngsters
who would be unnoticed if the old birds
From the time the robins first arrive
until the strawberries are ripe they are
most assiduous in well doing. Their
food consisting entirely of insects and
such berries
as may re-
bushes from
When the
first brood
of young
have attain-
ed full size
and are able
to supply
their own
wants, the
strawberrie^*
are also just
fit for use
and the rob-
ins soon find
it out and
act accord-
ingly.
Someyears
ago tho blue
hirdwasone first hiri> ov sp
of the most
abundant and perhaps the most famil-
iar of the birds that frequent our gar-
dens and orchards. Its gentle ways,
beautiful plumage and charming song
rendered it a favourite everywhere.
It had attained almost the same de-
gree of popularity and immunity from
persecution as the real robin of Europe,
but for some reason it has almost de-
serted us lately. We see and hear them
pass over us in early spring, and they
)nally drop down and remain
with us for a few days if the weather is
unfavourable for travelling, but they
soon pass on again and only a few pairs
remain to occupy the old nesting-holes.
Where they go lo spend iheir summer 1
have not yet been able to ascertain.
Their course from Toronto is north-
easterly in the spring, and in the au-
tumn they return from that direction
and go south-westerly from here, on a
course about parallel with the shore of
Lake Ontario.
The blue bird's average winter range
is about the
same as that
of the robin,
but it is very
rarely that
any stragg-
lers are to be
found north
of latitude
.19
:old s
the
and none
ever stay in
Ontar io.
They evi-
dently re-
quire a lar-
ger propor-
tion of insect
food at all
the robin,
and are,
the re fore,
obliged to
resort in
winter to the
south where
the cold is
and the ground not liable to be covered
with snow. They are hardy birds, how-
ever, and when, as sometimes happens
after their arrival here, they meet with
severe weather and heavy snow storms,
they adapt themselves to circumstances
and get what nourishment they can
from sumach berries and such dormant
insects as their sharp eyes may dis-
cover about the bark of trees in shel-
In the dayswhen the blue birds stayed
:y Google
BIRDS OF THE GARDES
with us they would build their nests in
any hole or crevice about the premises
that came handy. The deserted winter
home of the little downy woodpecker
bored in an old fence stake was a favou-
rite location ; so too was a hole in an
apple tree. I have more than once
leen the letter-box hung on a gate used.
These same nesting-places were occupi-
ed year after year probably by the same
pair of birds, or at any rate one of them,
and sotameand confidingwere they that
the females
would allow
themselves
to be strok-
ed while sit-
ting, without
exhibiting
either fear or
displeasure.
The eggs,
four or five
in number,
are very pale
blue
Young blue
birds are
very much
wiser than
young rob-
ins and do
not often
leave the
nest until
they have ac-
ab!e them to
avoid all
four-footed ^*''" coLRTSHip-i
enemies.
But before leaving the nest they are
liable to be destroyed by that nimble
little pirate, the red squirrel; this little
beast is quite carnivorous and seems
to to be as fond of young birds as a
professional invalid is of spring chicken.
THE SONG SPARROW.
A few days after the first robins and
blue birds have come we shall see and
hear the song sparrow, the most abun-
dant of that targe class of birds com-
monly known throughout the country
as grey birds, but which may be dis-
tinguished from all the others, when he
allows you a clear front view, by the
dark blotch on the breast. While
these little creatures are not by any
means wild, yet they are unobtrusive
and of secretive habits. If not too
closely approached they will mount to
the topmost twig of a bush on the
lawn and sing; but an unguarded
movement will cause them to drop like
a stone to
the ground
and in a sec-
ond they dis-
appear a-
mong the
roots and
dead leaves
which they
closely re-
semble, and
through
which they
wriggle and
twist like
A few days
after the
scouts ap-
pear the bulk
of this spec
They at once
select their
summer
quarters and
settle- their
love affairs.
During the
HE SONCi SPARROW. j-^^^, Jays of
courtship the
birds are more easily observed than at
any other time. They then lay aside
their hiding propensities and the little
males in their anxiety to please their
demure brown sweethearts will go
through all sorts of antics, frequently
springing up into the air on quivering
wings and singing most ecstatically.
This is soon over and the mated pairs
quiet down to regular house-keeping
after bird fashion.
The nest is built usually on the
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I30
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ground under a tuft of grass or some
slight shelter. One I found last year
was in an old lobster can that had been
used as a paint pot and which was
lying on its side amongst some weeds.
The eggs are four or five in number,
greenish white, speckled all over with
greyish brown ; but they vary a good
deal both in ground colour and mark-
ings. Two or even three broods are
raised in a season. On one occasion
I found the same nest used in raising
two broods.
This is very
unusual with
this species.
In the early
part of the
season that
miserable
causes the
loss of the
first brood
of its young.
Later in the
season when
nests are
more plenti-
ful the cow-
bird distri-
butes its fa-
vours pretty
generally a-
mong all our
small birds house hintlnc— t
and probab-
ly destroys more useful bird life than
all other enemies put together.
Song sparrows do not go very far
south to spend the winter, their centre
of abundance during that season being
Southern Illinois, Missouri, Eastern
Kansas and Texas. I have occasion-
ally found a few remaining over in
sheltered places in Southern Ontario;
but as they haunt the very thickest
of weed grown places, and are quiet
at this season, they are easily over-
THE BRONZE CRACKLES.
Shortly after the middle of March
the bronze grackles, or crow black-
birds as they are usually called, appear
and take possession of their nesting:
places in the evergreens about the lawn
or in the rows of tall Lombardy poplars.
These birds always build in colonies
and are gregarious at alt seasons.
Although they certainly destroy a
large number of insects, particularly
of those sorts that live undei^round,
such as cut-
worms, wire-
worms and
the like, yet
they can
hardly be
considered as
desirable ten-
ants of the
garden. They
are destruc-
tive to the
young of
other birds
more valu-
able than
themselves,
and they are
great fruit
and grain eat-
ers. It is a
pity that their
evil deeds
should out-
balance their
good quali-
ties as they
are certainly
HE HOL'ss WREN. Very beautiful
creatures.
The bronze and purple metallic lustre
on the feathers of the mature male is not
surpassed by the colouration of any
bird except, perhaps, by the jewel-like
gorget of the ruby-throated humming-
bird. The peculiar keel-like arrange-
ment of their tail feathers is also very
graceful and quite unlike that of any
other of our birds.
These birds build a coarse nest of
twigs, grasses and mud, and lay four
or five very handsome eggs. The
ground colour is a curious smoky blue
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BIRDS OF THE GARDEN
with dots and irregular streaks of pur-
plish brown. They vary so much that
hardly any two are alike.
The great bulk of the grackles spend
the winter in Mexico, but some few are
said to remain along the Mississippi
River as for north as Illinois. Why
these birds should require to go further
south than the robins and blue birds is
difficult to understand. They are strong
and hardy, and being practically omniv-
orous, should be able to obtain an ample
food supply where birds that are more
particular tn their diet would fail in
doing so.
After the arrival of the species 1 have
mentioned there is generally a stop in
migration for a few days so far as new
species are concerned, but the number
of individuals of each of the species that
have already arrived is increased daily.
THE PHCEBE.
About the end of March we generally
find our little Quaker friend the phcebe
returned to take possession of its old
nest, on a beam in the shed, or in some
out-of-the-way corner of the buildings.
This quietly attired flycatcher is one of
the most desirable of all our feathered
friends. Its appearance is not very
striking, but there is a quiet neatness
about its olive grey coat and white
waistcoat that is very attractive. Its
manners, too, are so easy and so thor-
oughbred that the bird has acquired a
popularity second only to that of the
blue bird. Besides this, the bird is of
great economic value in our garden.
Its food consists entirely ofinsect-s, the
most of them being taken on the wing.
Amongst these insects so taken are
large numbers of the moths which lay
eggs to produce the foliage-eating cat-
erpillars ; and so the capture of each
female moth means the destruction at
one swoop of a whole brood of these
The phcebe is one of those birds
whose habit it is to return year after
year to the same nesting place. The
old nest is added to and repaired each
season, so that after a time it becomes
quite a bulky structure. As I have said,
it is generally placed on a beam or some
projection of the woodwork either in
or outside a building, no matter how
much the place may be frequenled.
Another very favourite site is under a
bridge or culvert ; so frequently is
this selected that I doubt if there are
many bridges in our rural districts
without their phcebe's nest.
The eggs of the phcebe are four or
five in number and quite white ; as a
rule, only one brood is raised in the
season.
I am afraid that this is one of the birds
likely lo suffer from the introduction of
the European house sparrow. Its nest
is built of just such material as the spar-
row prefers for his mattress ; and the
phcebe likes to occupy places about our
premises that are easily accessible to
our emigrant friend. The result will
be that our gentle and useful phcebe
will have to retire from the neighbour-
hood of the aggressive and acquisitive
European.
About the end of September the
phoebes leave us and start off on
their journey to Mexico, where the
bulk of them spend the winter, a few
stragglers only remaining in favoured
localities north of that country.
THE COW BIRD.
Almost at the same time that we
see and hear the phcebe we may have
our attention called to a glossy black
bird with a rich chestnut coloured head,
rather larger than the European spar-
row. This is the male cow-bird, the
female of which is dull, sooty black.
Its love-song is apt to remind one of
the squeals made by the rusty wheel
of a wheelbarrow when that useful
implement is being first used after a
long winter's rest exposed to all
weathers.
This bird cannot be called properly
a bird of the garden ; in fact, it is a
vagrant, and does not have a home
anywhere ; nor has it any morals
worth mentioning. Its food is gleaned
principally from the open fields, and
consists of insects and seeds in about
equal proportions during the summer;
in the fall it is a grain eater. But it is
not with its diet that we are con-
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THE CANADIAX MAGAZINE
cerned in the garden, but with its
very reprehensible habit of depositing
its eggs [in the nests of other small
These creatures do not mate, neither
do they build a nest. The female
seeks out the completed nest of one of
the sparrows, finches, thrushes or
warblers, and in it she deposits an
eg^ of her own, and leaves it there to
be hatched by the bird on whose home
she has trespassed. In due course all
all the eggs
are hatched,
and then the
trouble be-
fewdays the
outgrownits
fellow-nest-
lings in size,
strength and
voracity, and
requires, so
ages to get,
the greater
part of the
food brought
by the parent
birds for the
lamily. This
results in the
proper occu-
pants of the
nest being
either crowd-
ed out or
starved to
Mr
death by the
interloper, who then taxes to the utmost
all the energies of its foster parents to
supply the cravings of its ravenous ap-
petite. After the young cow - bird
leaves the nest it still follows its foster
parents through the trees, clamouring
like a great spoiled baby for food. This
continues until the cow-bird has fully
developed its faculties (a slow process
in this case), when it goes off to join a
flock of its real relations in raiding the
farmers' oat fields.
These cow-birds are very abundant,
and as each one of them has been
raised at the cost of a whole brood of
one of our useful small birds it is easy
to see that they do a good deal of in-
jury to the country.
The eggs of this bird are whitish,
thickly covered with small greyish
brown dots. It is not positively known
how many each bird lays in a season,
but probably four or live. I have only
oncefouod two ofthem in the same nest,
and I did then, as I always do, prompt-
ly destroy
them,
though it
might have
been inter-
notehowthe
two young
thieves
would have
arranged
matters be-
tween them.
The cow-
in theSouth-
ern States,
usually go-
ing south of
the State of
Illinois.
From the
middle to
the end of
April we are
usually visi-
ted by the
kinglets. These tiny little creatures
are, with the exception of the hum-
ming-birds, the smallest birds of North
America. There are two species of
them, the most abundant, both in
spring and autumn, being the golden-
crowned kinglet, the other being the
ruby-crowned. Both are olive green
above and yellowish white below, but
may easily be distinguished by the
colour of the crown, which in the
golden-crowned is yellow bordered by
black, while the adult ruby-crowned
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BIRDS OF THE GARDEN
133
has a partly-concealed rich scarlet patch
on the crown. In the young this is
not visible, but then the absence of
aoy colour will distinguish it from its
relative.
The ruby-crowD is strictly a migrant,
arriving here from the southern borders
of the Southern Slates, and soon pass-
ing' on to the coniferous forests of the
north, where it breeds. It usually
travels through this province singly;
small scattered parties occasionally
drift along through the woods, but
they are exceptional. The most notice-
able feature about this little bird is its
foud, ringing song. When first noticed
it seems hard to believe that such a
volume of sound can be produced from
such a minute body, the notes being
almost as loud as those of the song-
sparrow. Besides this song, it often
utters a sharp, chiding note, somewhat
like that of one of the wrens.
The lit tie go Id en -crown resembles its
relative in its general habits, but it
usually travels in small parties, and
does QOt appear to have any musical
powers ; it is also much hardier than
the ruby-crown, our Canadian winter
even having no terrors for them. How-
ever, as winter residents I will refer to
them later on. They all go north to
breed, and with the other kinglets re-
turn in October.
THE HOUSE WREN.
After the tenth of April, if the
weather is fine, we may any day ex-
pect the first real wave of migration.
This will bring a number of new
species. In some cases the main body
will arrive all at once ; in others only
the advance guard will come. We
shall ^et the flicker or high-holder, the
yellow-bellied woodpecker, white-
throated sparrow, chipping sparrow,
brown creeper, house wren, white-
breasted and barn swallows and the
myrtle warbler.
Of these the most familiar and one
of the most useful is the pert little
house wren. It returns regularly toils
old nest in the bird box or any hole or
crevice into which it can stuff its
apolog-y for a nest. Then whilst Mrs.
Jenny is attending to the arrangement
of her household affairs her husband
will devote his energies to singing and
scolding all the four-footed animals
that venture to trespass on what he is
pleased to consider his private hunting
ground.
In spring and early summer the
wren sings almost incessuntly all day,
with short intervals for refreshment ;
but as the weather gets hot, he is
sileat from morning until after sun-
down. Then he makes up for it by
singing all night if the weather is fine
and there is any moonlight at all.
Wrens usually lay five or six eggs,
white spotted with reddish brown, and
sometimes raise two broods in the sea-
son.
There are no more industrious insect
hunters than the house wrens, and they
do their work principally amongst the
plants we cultivate so that the benefit
we derive is direct. It is quite easy to
induce a pair to take possession of any
garden large enough to give them a
hunting ground by providing them with
a suitable nesting box and it will be
found decidedly profitable as well as
interesting to do this.
The house wrens remain in Ontario
until about the middle of October
when they move southward to their
winter range in the Southern States.
THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW.
The white -throated sparrow is one
of the few birds whose song can be
rendered into words, but even of this
song there are several versions ; some
people hear " Poor Tom Peabody,
Peabody, Peabody," and call it the
Peabody bird ; others hear " All day
whitthng, whittling, whittling." 1 pre-
fer the version given by Mr. Van
Dyke in "The Century" some time
ago. He makes the bird say, "Sweet,
sweet Canada, Canada, Canada," pro-
nounce Canada as the French Cana-
dians do, and you get the best repre-
sentation of the song that can be given
in words. At any rate, if the white-
throat does not say this in so many
words, that is the meaning of his song,
and he utters it because he rejoices !n
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'34
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
having again reached his home, the
place in which he was born and where
he hopes to raise his own little family
in the coming' season.
A very handsome bird is our white-
throat, quite the beau of the sparrow
tribe. In it he has only two rivals, the
fox sparrow and the white crowned ;
neither of tRem, however, quite equal
to him in appearance. The fox spar-
row, though, is far his superior as a
musician, while the white -crown has
no very great pretensions in that direc-
The great majority of the white-
throats ^o north of us to breed, but a
few pairs stop at suitable places all the
way from our southern border. I have
every year found two or three pairs
nestling close to the city of Toronto.
During the warm weather they rarely
sing ehcept in early morning and dur-
ing the night, so that as they are
usually concealed in the rank under-
brush, they easily escape notice.
The nest is rather a coarse affair of
weetls and grass placed low down in
the bushes, and the eggs, four or five
in number, are greenish, spotted and
blotched with brown.
In September the white-throats,
young and old, arrive from the north,
and occasionally make an effort to
sing ; but the song lacks the spirit and
tone of spring, and is not often repeat-
ed. As October draws to a dose the
birds vanish away to the Southern
States, where they remain for the
C. W. Nash.
CANADIAN HYMN.
OTRONG daughter of heroic birth, whose throbbing veins combine
^ The Lilies and the mighty Cross in pure and royal line.
For thee thy true sons ever hold their hearts and lives in hand
To lay them at thy gracious feet whene'er thy need demand !
Haut Canada ! Bas Canada ! Canadians all are we.
Sons of the North, the brave, true North,
Land of the Maple Tree.
Above us floats the olden Cross, our fathers' and our own,
We deck it with the Maple Leaf Canadian land has grown ;
On to the West, o'er half a world, we bear from sea to sea
The glorious symbol of our pride, our badge of ancestry !
Haut Canada I Bas Canada ! Canadians all are we.
Sons of the North, the brave, true North,
Land of the Maple Tree.
Fair are thy spreading takes and plains, thy purple mountains high.
For thee who would not proudly live, who would not gladly die?
Freedom and Law thy brows entwine and bless thy sacred sod.
May ne'er thy stainless sword be drawn but in the cause of God !
Haut Canada I Bas Canada ! Canadians all are we.
Sons of the North, the brave, true North,
Land of the Maple Tree.
Charles Campbell.
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THE CANADIAN PEOPLE.
A Criticism of Some of their Social Peculiarities.
XHERE is no doubt that the Cana-
^ dian people believe themselves
quite the equal of those of the United
States and of Great Britain, and more
than the equal of those of any other
country on the face of the globe, and
justly so. Some of the best blood of
the British race flows in our veins ; and
our system of government, our social
oi^nization and our social habits are
of a standard which is scarcely equalled
in any country in the world. But the
Canadian people are peculiar, and
it is to some of these peculiarities 1
wish to draw attention, for as Princi-
pal Grant has well said, "The destiny
of a country depends not on its mater-
ial resources; it depends on the char-
ter of its people."
The Canadian people are religious
and generous. They contribute liber-
ally to the building of
REUGious churches. In Quebec, the
PECULiARi- churches usually cost
TIES. as much as alt the other
buildings in the town or
village combined. In the other prov-
inces, the people are not quite so ex-
travagant but the churches are numer-
ous and creditable. In every part of
Canada the preachers are well paid and
highly respected. The people give
generously to foreign missions, thou-
sands of dollars being sent each year
to Africa, India and China. Yet on
the street corners of any Canadian
city you may see a blind man begging,
a one-legged, patient individual with
his crutch and tin cup, or a wrinkled old
woman turning a wheezy hand-organ.
The business streets are regularly pa-
trolled by ragged, worn-out females,
soliciting coppers or selling bone collar-
buttons. Ian Maclaren tells the story
of a woman who went to the meeting of
a "society to help thepoor," in London,
to seek a position. She was asked her
name, address, age, number of child-
ren and various other particulars. She
was then asked to pay a shilling for re-
gistration, and a situation would be
hunted up for her. Poor woman, she
had no shilling and could not secure
help. We have the same spirit in Can-
ada. We build large buildings to ac-
commodate unfortunates and name
these edifices after the men who do>
nate the most money. But we initi-
ate no system which will seek out the
dying and the unfortunate, no system
which will permanently rescue the fal-
len, no plan whereby the aged and the
needy will be able to live without beg-
ging. A man will subscribe— with a
flourish — a thousand dollars to foreign
missions, and on the same day he will
dismiss a man ten years in his employ,
who has been earning but twelve dol-
lars a week, without a thought as to
how this man is to support his wife
and five children. Truly we are a pe-
culiar people.
Canadians claim to follow the rule,
"the greatest good for the greatest
number," and much of
THE SPOILS our legislation embodies
SYSTEM. that principle. We have
excellent educational sys-
tems in the various provinces ; not as
well administered as they should be,
but still doing a great deal for the
common people. We have a splendid
criminal code for the punishment of all
crimes, except political crimes ; we
have good laws regulating commerce,
and honourable judges to administer
these laws. Nevertheless ninety per
cent, of the discussions in parliament
pertain to subjects other than these. It
is the good of the party which is
considered, not the good of the
country. During its eighteen years in
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
power, the Conservative Party filled
all senatorial, civil service and judi-
cial vacancies with men to whom the
party was "under obligation," men
of its own political stripe ; and its
whole aim during* that period was to
so arrange and compromise everything
that it might retain power. The Lib-
eral Party has had control just three
years, but it has clearly shown that it
is determined to give Conservatives
a dose of their own medicine. Un-
necessary bonuses, suspicious dealsi
surrenders to selfish capitalists, ap-
pointment of self-seeking politicians to
important administrative positions, a
ceaseless pandering to the desires of
districts where the party wishes to
strengthen its hold — these are the
marks which show the Liberal party
to be as careless of the general good
as were its predecessors. Mark you,
I do not mean that the Liberal Govern-
ment has done no commendable ac-
tions. There are a few moves here and
there which reflect credit upon them ;
but the balance is on the side of
' ' power-seeking, " not "general good. "
But another peculiarity of the Cana-
dian people is that while essentially
moral, they are encou-
t^CK OF raging political immoral-
iDEAL ciTi- ity. A citizen very sel-
ZBNsHtp. dom thinks of doing an
evening's work on the
voters' list, of assisting to organize the
vote of his division, or of doing a day's
scrutineeringon behalf of a prospective
alderman or a member of Parliament
without pay from the candidate. The
word citizen conveys no responsibil-
ities to the mind of the ordinary vofer.
He sees no duty which he owes to the
state. He owes his party a vote when-
ever called upon ; and the party owes
him a day's pay when he earns it, and
a small job now and again if he has
"influence," or makes an occasional
contribution for the good of the cause.
The average earnest and thoughtful
citizen rests at home in the bosom of
his family, while his unthinking, less
moral brother does the political work
necessary in Canada to the making and
unmaking of governments. We are
all Canadians, but we often pay more
attention to down-trodden Cuba or be-
nighted China than we do to the coun-
try which gives us a name and a home.
Because our duty to the state rests
lightly upon us, our larger municipali-
ties are in the hands of men of broad
easy morals ; are politics are controlled
by small-minded self-seeking men who
do not hesitate to bribe constituencies
or to barter franchises. In neither
provincial nor federal politics, does the
average voter rise above party con-
siderations when, with uncovered head,
he approaches the ballot-box.
Nor are our women possessed of the
highest moral sense. For example :
one day, as 1 was riding
LACK OF home in a street-car, a
FINER MORAL well-dressed lady and her
SENSE. daughter came aboard.
The lady took out two
yellow tickets and held them in her
hand. The 9onductor passed her and
repassed her. She didn't offer the
tickets, and he didn't ask for them. As
she got up to go out she smiled signi-
ficantly at her daughter, replaced the
two tickets in her purse, and gathering
her magnificent skirt in one hand and
her gold-handled umbrella in the other,
rustled her silks through the aisle and
down the steps.
If, in a store, a woman gets five
cents more change than she should,
why, it is a small thing, and she smiles
complacently. If the clerk cuts her
off half a yard more than he should,
why that is her luck. No large dry-
goods store in Canada can get along
without private detectives — and the
persons they watch are not the needy.
In her dealing with the prospective
husbands of her daughters, a Canadian
mother, especially a city mother, does
not always insist on morality. She
desires wealth and social position. The
young man's moral nature may be
utterly depraved, and his offspring sure
to be tainted with moral weaknesses
but the mother accepts him if he has
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THE CANADIAN PEOPLE
137
She seldom considers pos-
sibilities, but always present conditions.
Truly our mothers are lovable and
worthy of all honour and admiration —
but they are fond of tfie rustle of silks.
They spend two thousand a year with
scarcely a thought of their sisters who
have but two hundred. To make their
husbands M.P.'s they would sacrifice
much ; to bear the title " Lady" they
would almost sacrifice honour itself.
Walking: along street with a young
clergyman the other day, I was startled
by the remark : " Our
PRINCES ministers do not need to
OF COMPRO- compromise so much !
MISERS. They think they do, but
they don't," That word
compromise ! Would that it were
banished from the religious world, from
our political life and from even our
business life ! There is too much com-
promise altogether. It has its basts
in politeness, but the necessity does
not justify one half of what exists.
We compromise with evils and im-
moralities until they eat us up. And
the princes of compromisers are the
sleek, self- ad mi ring, oratorical minis-
ters of the gospel. These epithets
exclude a number of my best friends,
men who in a small but honest way
are pursuing the prize of a high calling.
The compromisers are the men who
do not preach morals, but whose com-
plex morality is printed on pages of
eloquence and bound in pliable smiles,
and whose sermons are literary essays
fit to adorn the pages of some noble-
man's latest magazine.
If a city minister were to condemn
stock gambling, political corruption,
and the other dozen shady
STEALING methods by which people
MILLIONS, amass large fortunes in
a few years at the ex-
pense of their fellow-men, that pulpit
would be vacant. Of course it never
occurs to the minister to let it be
vacant. So the immorality remains.
A man respects another's property un-
less he can get it under cover of the
law. For example, he may form a
mining company and sell his "pro-
moter's " stock at ten, fifteen or twenty
cents on the dollar. That is called
" able financing," and the more worth-
less the claim, the more able the finan-
cing and the more praise the man re-
ceives. The trusting but ill-informed
public is nevBr praised — not even pitied.
Or he may desire to build a railway.
The cost will be $8,000 per mile, and it
may be bonded for, say, $4,000 ; leaving
a net investment of $4,000 per mile of
road. He goes to the Dominion Gov-
ernment and gets a grant through the
influence of paid lobbyists. He then
visits the Provincial Government with
the seal of federal approval. He gets
another grant. Then he repairs to the
municipalities. Altogether he gets
$i2,ooo a mile. As the net investment
is $4,000, the profit is $8,000. On a
hundred miles there will be enough to
give him a fair claim on the title of
"millionaire." It is by just such
means as these that most of the rich
men of Canada have been made.
There are those who have made their
money by hard work and persistent
saving, but they are not quite so nu-
merous, and they are never so promin-
ent. It is a common occurrence to
hear men remark over their pipes and
whiskey — men of the world who know
— that to get rich to-day, a man must
have neither heart nor conscience. I
have heard half-a-dozen wealthy men
give utterance to such sentiments.
"'Tis true, 'tis pity ; and pity 'tis,
'tis true."
But why go on in this somewhat
doleful strain ? The answer is another
question. Why does the
OUR YOUNG bird sing ? It is given to
MEN. certain men to preach the
gospel of regeneration to
their fellow-men, when inclination
meets opportunity. Canada would not
be wholly bad if all the preachers and
teachers and writers were banished.
But she is the better of those she pos-
sesses— most of them. To write some-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
thing which would give one young man
a broader viewof citizenship is a reward
sufficient for any would-be teacher.
To make a dozen young men THINK
would be glory and honour.
For, after all, it is the young men in
whom lies the hope of Canada's future
greatness. There is always hope be-
cause there are always young men.
Many of these will follow precedent,
but a few will not. If the few-are too
few, our politics and our social life will
become no better ; but they will not
degenerate greatly.
The young man who studies nothing
but John Bunyan and the Bihle may
go to Heaven, but he certainly will not
make the world much better for his
having sojourned here. This is a day
when citizens are required — citizens
with a broad, understanding knowl-
edge of what Canada was, is, and
might be ; citizens who will inquire as
to what Canada requires of her sons ;
citizens who will study the history, the
institutions, the literature, the political
conditions of their native land. The
man who exclusively pursues his own
ends, his own purposes, and the al-
mighty dollar is not a citizen. A
citizen is a man of a higher, a nobler,
a more unselfish type. To the citizen
our poet Kernigan cries :
" Shall the mothers that love U9, bow the
head,
And blush for degenerate sons?
Are the patriot fires gone out and dead?
Oh, brothers, stand to your f(ui>s ! "
And Roberts also :
" Awake, my country, the hour of dreams is
Doubt not, nor dread the Kr^^tness of thy
Tho' faint souls fear the keen, confronting
And fain would bid the mom of splendour
Tho' dreamers, rapt in starry visions, cry,
' Lo, yon thy future, yon thy faith, thy
And stretch vain hands to stars ; thy fame is
nigt.
Here in Canadian hearth and home, and
We may have telephones and elec-
tric railways, Pacific cables, fast At-
lantic steamboats, miles of canals,
hundreds of cabinet ministers, scores
of companions, knights and baronets ;
but if we have not a patriotic citizen-
ship we shall not last. Commerce
alone never made a nation great.
It is becoming clearer that if Great
Britain is to maintain her supremacy
among thenationsshewill
THE DIM have to be regenerated
FirruRB. from the fresher blood
of the colonies. If this is
the destiny of Canada's greater sons,
we should be prepared for it. If we
are to become a part of the greater
Anglo-Saxon unity, the northmen will
be needed to reorganize and purify
the body politic of the south. If this
is the destiny of Canada's greater sons,
we should be prepared for it. If we
are to build up on the northern half of
this continent a new Britain, with the
maple leaf flag proudly floating above
it, we must breed and bring forth citi-
zens whose excellence cannot be meas-
ured in dollars. If this is the destiny
of Canada's sons, let them anoint them-
selves with wisdom.
r Piilienon.
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES.
A Romance in TToelve Chapters.
BY JOANNA K. WOOD. AUTHOR OF "THB UNTEMPERED WIND", "JUDITH MOORE". ETC.
Digest of Previous Chapters.— Sldnej' Martin, a young- Bostonian, is visiting the
Lansing farm. Mr. Lansing is a widower, but has living with him his daughter Vashti and
bis niece H&bella, two very charming maidens. Lansing Lansing, a cousin of both these
girls, is in love with sweet, honest Mabella ; while Sidney becomes enamoured of the
proud, stately Vashti. But Vashti is in love with her cousin Lansing, or " Lanty," as he
is called, and she is deadly jealousy of Mabella 's happiness. In this state of mind she
Accepts Sidney's attentions, and ultimately decides to marry him. She makes him pro-
mise, however, that he will never take her away from Dole, the little village close at
hand, and asks him also to train himself for the position of successor to the Rev. Mr.
Didymus, the present Congregational minister and sole clergyman of the village. Vash-
li's idea is that as wife of the minister she will be mistress of Dole with all the |iower for
which her flinty, worldly soul craves. And when this " Daughter of Witches" so mfluences
Ihis young man that he consents to enter the holy profession, she feels that her hour of
vengeance will not be long- delayed.
CHAPTER IX.
TT was nearly two years after Sidney
^ went forth to prepare for the pastor-
ate of Dole, when he stood one morn-
iug reading' and re-readingf the brief
words of a telegram :
Come at once.
The old man had been falling' fast
since the springtime.
The first April showers were quick-
ening the earth when one day Sally
found Mrs. Didymus dead in her chair,
her Bible upon her knee, her spectacles
pushed up on her brow, her dead face
turned to where upon the wall hung a
faded and discoloured portrait of Mar-
tha.
"Itwon't belong now, "Mr. Didymus
had said to Sidney upon that occasion,
and Sidney felt it would be cruel to
contradict his hope.
All summer long as Sidney read
Vashti's accounts of the old man's fluc-
tuating health he had thought of the
solemn gladness of the moment when
the summons should come. His loins
had been girded for months past and
now he was to set forth.
He had said to Vashti in a wistful
letter, " When the hour comes be sure
you seod for me yourself. Let it be
your personal summons which brings
me to your side." And now such a
summons lay before him.
He had no preparations to make.
AH that required to be done could be
arranged afterwards. But, ere he set
out for the new life, he had one visit
to pay. He had always promised him-
self that when the hour came he would
not taste of its joy till he had gone to
the man of whom he had thought dur-
ing the first gladness of his engage-
ment.
Surely it was a curious thing that a
minister of the Gospel should seek
counsel of an unlearned agnostic.
Nevertheless Sidney went confidently.
At each step he took towards his des-
tination he grew more and more
ashamed for that he had so long with-
drawn himself from this man.
Sidney found him in his old place
amid the whirring wheels of the great
factory in which he worked. His
grizzled hair was a trifle grayer, his
strong figure a little more bent ; but his
clear cut mouth was as firm as ever, his
eyes as wistful and eager. They had
that expression of receptiveness which
so often marks the true sage, who,
very wise, is yet always eager to learn.
Between the sliding belts Sidney en-
countered his delighted gaze fixed
straight upon him. The visitor thread-
ed his way with difficulty through the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
maze of machinery to where he stood
with such a welcome in his eyes that
Sidney's impulse had been to brave the
wheels and go straight.
" How I wanted to come and meet
you," said the man holding out a be-
grimed hand eagerly. " But you know
my hand must be on the lever always."
"Ah," said Sidney, "I felt your
welcome even before 1 saw you, and
when I saw you formalities were dis-
counted."
The man looked at him, a shade of
awe solemnizing the gladness of his
face.
"There are some things which al-
most frighten one," he said. " Do you
know that all day long I have been
thinking of you, remembering the
lectures you used to give us at the
Shelley Club and wondering if I should
ever, ever hear from you again ? "
" And now I am here ! " said Sidney.
"Yes," said the man, looking at
him lovingly. " And it is so good to
see you."
In the midst of his happiness Sidney
remembered to say ' ' And how does the
Shelley Club progress ? Are you pre-
sident yet P " The man shifted his feet
awkwardly.
"Yes, I am," he said.
"Ah, the right man in the right
place," said Sidney cordially. " So the
club goes on."
"Yes, we have nineteen members
now and there are often fifty at the
meetings."
"There's a stride!" said Sidney.
" We used to be proud of ourselves if
we could say 'we are seven,' didn't
we? Well, I would like to hear your
addresses."
" You have some news to give me, I
am sure," said the man, who, during
the conversation manipulated his lever
with the mechanical precision of a man
whom practice has made almost auto-
Sidney flushed.
"Could you come out for a few
minutes' quiet talk P " he asked.
" 1 sahll see," said the man, turning
a knob which arrested the wheels. He
went to a man almost as grimy as
himself, but who wore a coat. Sidney
looked about him with shuddering dis-
gust at the surroundings.
The machinery beside him shivered
with the suppressed energy kept in
check by the knob the man had turn-
ed. It seemed to Sidney a symbol of
the eager soul of the man whom he had
come to see, prisoned by circum-
stances within the (Circumference of
petty cares, yet quivering and throb-
bing with divine energy.
The man was returning pleased with
the little boon of time he had gained.
The circumstances gripped Sidney's
heart. He felt his own freedom and
ease a reproach.
The man led the way, turning down
the sleeves of his grey flannel shirt.
He passed broad shouldered between
the whizzing belts, one touch of which
meant mutilation. Sidney edged his
way gingerly after him. The spaces
between the whirling wheels seemed
very narrow.
The workman led the way out into a
desolate but suAny little courtyard. A
high wall enclosed it ; great heaps of
packing cases filled one corner ; a freight
car, run in upon a little row of rails,
stood just within the gate.
"Sit down," said the man, waving
Sidney to a place upon a pile of boards.
It struck Sidney that there was' a sense
of luxury in the way in which he let his
frame relax ; it Was an unaccustomed
treat, evidently, these few moments
stolen in the midst of the sunshiny fore-
" Now for your news, "said the man.
" Is it about yourself?"
"Yes," said Sidney, "and it will
surprise you greatly. I amaboutto be-
come, in fact already am, a Minister."
" Of what — to whom — where ?" ask-
ed the man.
" A preacher of the Christian gospel,"
said Sidney. " To a pious little com-
munity in the New England hilts."
There was silence for a moment. The
whir of the wheels came to them, they
heard a postman's whistle in the street
outside and the chirping of some spar-
rows which fluttered about the empty
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
141
"Youare disappointed," sa!d Sidney;
you disapprove, but — "
The man raised his hand.
" It's for a woman, 1 suppose," he
said. " Would nothing- satisfy her but
your soul ?"
" Oh," cried Sidney, " I will do my
duty by them. I will preach the truth
to them. They shall know how noble
and lovely life may be. They shall be
shown what real beauty is, and told
that righteousness for righteousness'
sake is the highest good."
His friend sat silent still ; Sidney
looked at him almost pleadingly, and
sanr that his eyes were blurred by tears.
" Listen," he said to Sidney. "Give
it up. You don't know what you are
doing-. It will kill you. I know you
so well. You are salving your con-
science now bygood resolutions. When
you see the fruitlessness of it all you
will torture yourself with thoughts of
your responsibility and what not, and
the end will be chaos."
"Do you think 1 have not nearly
^one mad already?" said Sidney, grow-
ing very white. " Surely you must
guess how I have questioned my ability
to do them good. But I think the
worst of that is bye now. I shall have
a stay, a support, an inspiration which
win never flag. The most beautiful
and best woman in the world has prom-
ised to marry me the day I become min-
ister of Dole."
"I've heard of the devil baiting his
line with a woman," said the workman
contemptuously, but yet in such a man-
ner that Sidney could not take offence.
Then he went on :—
' 'You say you'll do your duty by these
people, but it's not that I'm thinking
about. It's you. Remember this, you
are to work in the vineyard of human
nature, its soil is the shifting quicksand
of human weakness. When you feel
that sucking you down, to what will
you turn ? Upon what secret source of
strength can you draw ? Do you think
the men who preach the Christ word in
the slums could live and eat and con-
tinue their work unless they drew
strength from some unseen reservoir?
No, a thousand times no. Of course,
1 think their belief a delusion, but it is
real to them, as real as the Divinity of
Truth, and Truth alone, is to me. To
preach a personal God without belief
in one is to court destruction ; at any
moment, by disappointment or self-
reproaCh, you may be thrown back up-
on your own beliefs. Shall the mother
whom you have denied open her arms
to you P Or shall the personal God in
whom you do not believe sustain you P
No, you will fall into the void. Sidney,
give it up."
There was a pause.
" I will never give it up," he said.
"I have promised that I shall devote
myself to the work, and I will. You
speak as if I had denied Nature and
spat upon Truth. I have done neither.
These two things will bear me through.
There was one night in the fields — there
was a new moon, and the young grain
was springing. I saw things very
clearly just then. I felt I could do
good, and that it was my bounden duty
to try. Bid me good-speed."
The workman rose. He took Sid-
ney's hand and pressed it in both of
his.
" I think," he said, " no human be-
ing ever began a hopeless course with
more sincere and honest good wishes."
As he held Sidney's hands and looked
into the grey eyes of the younger man
his own keen eyes dimmed and grew
seerlike. The look of the visionary il-
lumined his face.
" You will toil and strive and suffer,"
he said. "You will spend and be spent
for others. You will have griefs, but
you will never realize them, for you will
be too absorbed in the sorrows of others
to feel your own. You have bound
yourself to a wheel, and until you are
broken upon it, and your spirit spilt
into the bosom of the Eternal, you will
never know you have been tortured."
A half sob arrested his speech.
" Good-bye," he said, "good-bye !"
"Good-bye," said Sidney, who was
much moved. So the two men parted.
The one went into the sunshine ; the
other back into the hot atmosphere,
where the deleterious dust was eddied
into maelstroms by the whirling wheels.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
The one murmured, " Vashti, Vash-
ti ; " the other, as he otied the wheels
and bent strenuously over his work,
thought long and sorrowfully of many
things. It chanced to be the meeting-
night of the Free Thinking Vegetarian
Club, of which he was president, and
in his little speech he said much of a
man who bartered his soul for a mess
of pottage. But he told the story in
such fashion that this man seemed to
shine as an unselfish hero before their
eyes, instead of as a weakling, spend-
thrift of a precious heritage of inde-
pendence.
Thus an author has sometimes such
wholesome charity for his villains that
we love them more than their betters.
As Sidney was borne towards Dole
that day, he relived as in a vision all
the events which followed that first
haphazard visit of his. And yet, could
such a vital event be born of chance ?
How well he recalled the peculiar
fancy he had had when Dr. Clement,
after his visit to the country, gave him
old Mr, Lansing's invitation.
It was as if a little bell set swinging
in his father's boyhood hud suddenly
tinkled in his ear, bidding him turn in
his youth to those scenes where his
father had been a boy.
He remembered the day when dear
old Temperance first opened the door
to him. He knew now the enormity
□f his going direct to the front door.
In Dole only ministers and funerals
went there. Sidney never really ac-
quired the etiquette of the Dole doors.
One has to be born in a court to pro-
perly, appreciate its etiquette.
With epicurean delay the gentle
stream of his recollections took him
down the road, past Mullein' meadow
(O ! place of promise !), to the " unc-
tion sate," at Abiron Ranger's, and
then his memory leaped the bounds,
swept aside intervening incidents, and
dwelt upon the glorified vision of
beautiful Vashti, Ah! "Who ever
loved that loved not at first sight ? "
Then followed his long visit with its
rhythmic lapse of happy days.
Then, the Holy Grail of her heart
had been won.
And afterwards came the long wait-
ing. The short visits to Dole. And
now!
The marriage of Mabella and Lanty
had taken place a month or so after
Sidney left Dole the first time. Their
little daughter Dorothy was more than
a year old now.
Temperance and Nathan were not
yet married, but three months before
Temperance had bought a new black
cashmere dress in Brixton, and Nathan
was known to have priced a china tea
set, with gilt ro.sebuds in the bottoms
of the cups. Dole felt, therefore, that
matters were approaching a crisis with
Temperance and Nathan.
Old Mr. Lansing had grown very
frail. He had had a stroke of paralysis,
and had never been the same man
again. His eyes always had an appre-
hensive look which was very painful to
witness ; and strangely enough this
quiet self-contained old man, who all
his life had seemed so content with the
little village where be was bom, so
scornfully unconscious of the world
which fretted and throbbed beyond its
quiet boundaries, now showed a great
eagerness for word from the outside.
He subscribed to several newspapers.
And when Sidney came the old man
would question him with persistent and
pathetic eagerness about the details of
different events which he had seen
chronicled with big typed headings,
and Sidney found himself often sore
at heart because he knew nothing
whatever about the matter. American
journalism has some grave flaws in its
excellence, and surely the hysterical
lack of all sense of proportion and per-
spective in presenting the picture of
the times is a deplorable thing. It
does grave and positive harm in the
rural districts where it is impossible
for the people to gauge the statements
by comparison with events.
Sidney was greatly touched by the
misconception of old Mr. Lansing in
regard to these things.
" Ah," said the old man once, laying
down the paper in which he had read
a grotesquely exaggerated account of
some political caucus which was made
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
'43
to appear like a meeting of the national
powers, "Ah, there's no wonder dear
old Sid went to Bosting'." He shook
his head and sat with his elbows upon
his chair, looking before him into
vacancy. What fanciful vista of pos-
sibilities did he look upon? What
vague regrets beset his mind ? To
Sidney this was unspeakably pitiful.
This old man with his young dreams
— and it was the more sad, inasmuch
as the dreamer himself knew their
futility.
Old Lansing had always been a
"forehanded" man with his work.
He had never left over one season's
duties till another, but he had forgot-
ten to dream in his youth, and now he
was striving to his age to overtake the
neglected harvests of his garden of
When the train stopped at Brixton
the first person whom Sidney saw was
Lanty. Lanty tall and strong, and
debonair as ever. He greeted Sidney
very heartily.
"You've come for keeps this time,"
he said, as he led the way to where the
roan, a trifle more sedate than former-
ly, stood waiting between the shafts
of a very spick-and-span buggy.
" We will go straight to the preach-
er's," said Lanty. " I hope we'll be
in time,"
" Is he so low ?"
"Dying," said Lanty simply. He
touched the roan with the reins and it
sprang forward. Sidney's heart fled
before. The landscape upon either
side stretched dimly before his eyes.
He was conscious that Lanty was
speaking to him, and he made suitable
replies. But all his mind was glam-
oured by one thought, for Vashti had
promised that Mr. Didymus should
marry them.
Was this then THE DAY ?
They passed Lant/s house, a square
building with heavily timbered porch,
and Lanty drew rein to call " Mabella,
Mabella I" But there was no reply.
"She must have gone into Dole,"
said he,' and once more they went on.
Ere long they were driving up the
streets of Dole. The women stood at
the doorways with elaborate pretence
of being occupied. The men endeav-
oured to infuse surprise into their re-
cognition of Sidney, although most of
them had purposely elected to stay in
the village " choring " around the
house instead of going to the fields or
the woods.
The wise wives of Dole, knowing
the amiable weakness of their hus-
bands, had preferred special requests
that day to have work done about the
house. In Dole a man always thought
he was conferring a personal favour up-
on his wife if he straightened up a lean-
ing garden fence, mended a doorstep,
or banked up a cellar for winter. There
were six cellars banked up in Dole on
the day when Sidney entered it. Upon
the spnng air the odour of fresh-turned
earth speaks of new plowed fields and
fresh harvests, but in autumn the ear-
thy smell is chill and drear, and brings
with it a sense of mortality, a hint of
the end. And this atmosphere hung
heavy over the little village as Sidney
entered it.
As the buggy drawn by the roan
horse passed, the ranks of Dole closed
up. That is, each woman crossed to
her neighbour, and the men rested
from their labours to discuss the arri-
There was one thing that never was
forgotten about Sidney's entry — a cir-
cumstance viewed severely by the
many, leniently by the few — he wore a
grey suit of clothes. Dole murmured
in its heart at this infringement of the
ministerial proprieties, but Dole was
destined to experience a succession of
such shocks, for its young and eager
pastor trod often upon the outspread
skirts of its prejudices.
Sidney him self was profoundly moved
as he drove up the street, for he was
entering the precincts of his holy city.
In the geography of the heart there
are many cities. There is the place
where we were bom ; the place of our
dreams ; the Rome which under one
guise or another fills the tbreground
of our ambitions ; and above all there
is the place where first we tasted of
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
love, ah, that is where the Temple
Beautiful stands. And Sidney's first
and only love had been born in Dole.
Eager eyes were watching for them
from the parsonage windows ; Mabelia,
the habitual happiness of her face
masked and subdued by tender-hearted
concern; Mrs. Ranger a bustling im-
portant woman of many airs and graces,
filled with a sense of her own import-
ance, and knowing that her every
action would be reported to Temper-
ance TrJbbey (her sworn enemy) by
Mabelia; Mr. Simpson who had nursed
Mr. Didymus from the beginning ;
and, waiting alone and silently in the
tiny hall upstairs, Vashti Lansing,
She saw the two men coming up the
street, side by side in the buggy, and
her heart leaped up and cried ^or the
one who was denied her. Again an
angry gust of passion shook her as she
looked. For the one moment her de-
cision wavered. That pale slight man
whose grey eyes were so eager, so
alight with hope and love was nothing
to her compared to the blue-eyed, fair-
haired young countryman. Why
should she condemn herself to the tor-
ture of the continual contrast? But
this way her revenge lay, unplanned
yet, hut so eagerly desired. She would
surely, surely find means to make them
feel her power when as the preacher's
wife she was First Lady in Dole. So
Vashti Lansing filled with Samson-like
courage to wreck her enemies at any
price, slowly descended the stairs as
Sidney entered the front door. Then
she went towards him.
Mabelia saw them and with adroit
sympathy endeavoured to detain Mrs.
Ranger in the kitchen. But that
worthy woman saw through Mabella's
artifice, and leaving her question un-
answered made for the door which'led
from the kitchen into the little front
hall ; whereupon Mabelia deliberately
placed herself in Mrs. Ranger's way,
and animated by the courage which
springs from consciousness of a good
cause dodged every attempt of that
irate person to pass her. Mrs. Ranger
endured this as long as she could, then,
without more ado, she put out a strong
arm and brushed Mabelia aside.
"Take care," she said and passed into
the hall. But Sidney had had his
greeting and Vashti's calm face baffled
her inquiring looks.
" 1 could see there had been some-
thing," she said in reporting the mat-
ter, "but what had happened I don't
know."
"My sakes," said Mrs. Simpson
when Mrs. Ranger told her this, "I'm
sure you must have been busy in the
kitchen if you couldn't spare time to
watch 'em meet. My soul ! If Len
was worth his salt for observation he'd
have kep' his eyes open. But sakes!
Men's that stoopid — . But with you
there I thought we'd know how things
was goin' — "
" Well," said Mrs. Ranger tartly,
"you can thank Mabelia Lansing for
that. First as I was going out she
ups and asks me a question. I paid
no attention to that for I knew 'twas
done to hinder (them Lansings is all in
the same boat), and then when she
seen 1 wasn't to be took in with that
she deliberately put herself in the way,
and dodged me back and forward till I
had all I could do to keep from giving
her a good shove,"
"Well, M'bella Lansing had better
look out. It's a bad thing to be set up.
Pride goes before a fall. And M'bel-
la's certingly most wonderful sure of
self. But Lanty wouldn't be the first
young chap to — . Of course 1 ain't
sayin' anything, but they do say — "
Mrs, Ranger waited eagerly to see
if her friend would commit herself to a
definite statement. But Mrs. Simpson
was much too wary for that ; so Mrs.
Ranger nodded her head, and pursed
up her tips, and managed to convey the
impression that "she could an' ' she
would " unfold a tale.
But this was some days after Sidney
met Vashti in the narrow hall of the
Dole parsonage,
" 1 am here, Vashti," he whispered,
kissing her.
" Yes, how glad I am !" she answer-
ed simply,
" Can 1 speak to you just a moment,
dear, before 1 go to see him?"
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
'45
"What is it?"
" Do you remember," he whispered
hurriedly, " that you promised old Mr.
Didymus that he should marry us ?
Vashti, I have waited so long. I
tremble before the responsibility of the
life I have chosen. Strengthen me
with the fulfilment of your promise to
better keep mine."
Just then Mr. Simpson came in.
" He's askin' if you be come yet,"
he said to Sidney. " I — wouldn't wait
long before seein' him if I was you ;
'he's sinlcin'."
" 1 will come in at once," said Sid-
ney. Mr. Simpson turned and re-
entered the sick room.
Sidney turned to Vashti. At that
moment Mrs. Ranger, flushed and a
little ruflHed by her combat with Ma-
bella, entered the hall.
"How d'ye do, Mr. Martin," she
said, holding out her hand. "We'd
be right glad t' see you if the time
wasn't so sad."
" I am pleased to see you," said
Sidney, in his gentle genial way, shak-
ing hands with her. She looked from
his face to Vashti's w'ith an almost
ridiculously eager scrutiny, but found
herself baffled.
" You better go right in and see Mr.
Didymus," she said. " He's bin askin'
for you." At this juncture Mabella
appeared, an adorably matronly Ma-
bella.
" How are you Sidney ? " she asked.
"Mrs. Ranger, I'm afraid your pies
are burning or running over or some-
thing, 1 smelt them."
"Laws," said that good woman,
disappearing like a shot. " Didn't you
have sense enuff to go to the oviug in-
stead o' coming t' me ? "
" If you want to talk," said Mabella
coolly to Sidney and Vashti, "go into
the sitting-room, and when she comes
back I'll tell her you've gone in to see
Mr. Didymus."
" You're an angel," said Sidney, and
drew Vasti through the doorway just
as Mrs. Ranger came back angrily.
"Them pies ain't half cooked," she
said, "let alone burning ! "
"Well, I'm sure I thought I smelt
them," said Mabella, "and 1 know you
didn't want to leave the pie-making for
Temperance to do when she came this
evening."
" If the pies had bumed I'd have
made others, depend on that," said
Mrs. Ranger. " I guess Temp'rins
Tribbey never had to do anything over
af^er me ! I 'spose he's gone in to see
Mr. Didymus now?"
" We may as well go," said Mabella.
" He won't be back for awhile likely."
So the two went back to the kitchen
where Lanty, after watering the roan,
stood eating biscuits from the heap
upon the bake board.
" Vashti," said Sidney, taking her in
his arms, " Say yes. You know that
I adore you — and — Vashti, you will — "
She looked into his eyes. For one
moment a womanly hesitation prevailed
in her heart. The next she questioned
herself angrily : " Why malt, why de-
lay, why not begin to lay the threads
of your revenge ? "
"But" — she paused and looked
down. He drew her closer.
"Darling, it is the knowledge that
you are really mine that I want. You
surely do not think I would be exact-
ing to you ? You shall come to me
when you will ; say yes, dear "—
"It is so hurried — so — you art
good," she said, with charming affecta-
tion of hesitancy.
" Send Lanty oyer for your father,"
said Sidney, "and Temperance and I
will go in and ask Mr. Didymus,"
"I — yes, Sidney, I will do as you
wish," she said, then for one instant,
abashed by the great glad light in his
eyes, she let fall her face upon his
' 'And Vashti — after — you won't keep
me waiting too long."
She looked at him, arch rebuke in
her eyes.
He reddened.
"There," he said, "I'm spoiling it
all I know. Go, dear, and send Lanty."
She moved away a step. He followed
her swiftly and caught her to his breast
with passion.
"Tell me, Vashti," he said, "that
you love me as 1 love you ; tell me that
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146
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
life tog;ether seems the only thin^ pos-
sible to you." She put her arms about
his neck.
" I love you dearly," she said, " I
could not look forward to life except
with you."
With those words and with the em-
brace of her soft warm arms, every
doubt or shadow of doubt died in Sid-
ney's heart. He returned her embrace,
too moved to speak, and left her to
enter the room of the dying man.
Vashti went to the kitchen door and
called her cousin.
"Lanty," she said, " will you speak
a moment ? "
He left Mabella and came to her.
" Come outside," she s^d, " I want
you to do something for me. " Then
as they got beyond Mrs. Ranger's
hearing she continued: " I want you to
go over and fetch father and Temper-
ance. Sidney is beat upon being mar-
ried by Mr. Didymus and — -I have con-
sented," There was a kind of agony
in the regard she gave Lanty. "Will
you go ; " she said, her voice sounded
far away to herself, and alt at once it
seemed to her as if she could hear the
blood rushing' through her veins, with
a roaring as of mill-streams. And
Lanty, all unconscious of this, stood
smiling before her. Truly, if Vashti
Lansing sinned, she also suffered.
" It's a capital idea," said Lanty
heartily. " You are a lucky girl, Vash-
ti. I'll go at once ; have you told
Mabella yet ? "
The pent up forces of Vashti's heart
leaped almost beyond the bounds.
" Go," she said, with a strange
sweet shrillness in her voice. "Go,
at once."
" 1 will, of course, 1 will," said
Lanty, and he suited the action to the
word. He paused an instant to tell
Mabella, and added: "Vou go and
talk to Vashti, she's as nervous as you
were."
Then he departed and Vashti watch-
ed him, wondering a little why she
had been born to such a perverse fate.
.As she turned from the empty distance
where he had disappeared it was to be
met by Mabella's arms, and kisses,
and congratulations, and exclamations.
Poor Mabella ! All was so well meant,
and surely we would not blame her ;
and yet, though a creature be worthy
of death, we do not like to see it tor-
mented and baited. Vashti Lansing,
with her lawless will, her arrc^ant
self-confidence, her evil determination
was yet to be pitied that day.
The short autumnal day had drawn
down to night. Ldmps twinkled from
every room in the parsonage. A great
stillness brooded over the house.
The kitchen was filled with whisper-
ing women, groups of men lingered
near the house and horses were tied
here and there to the palings. The
word had gone abroad that the old
man who prayed far them so long was
leaving them that night. There would
be little sleep in Dole during its hours.
"The license has come," whispered
Mabella to Temperance, and Temper-
ance slipped out from among the
women and found Nathan where he
loitered by the door.
Soon they were all gathered in the
sick room. Old Lansing, and Mabella,
and Lanty with their baby Dorothy in
his arms, and Temperance and Nathan,
and another guest, unseen and silent,
to whom they all did reverence, who
was nearer to the old clei^man than
any of them.
And in a moment the door opened,
and Sidney and Vashti came softly in,
both pale, both calm.
The old clergyman looked up at
them lovingly. His face was the
colour of ivory, and the spirit seemed
to shine through its imprisoning taber-
nacle like a light.
In few and feeble words he married
them. Then he essayed to speak a
little to them, but he stumbled and
faltered, and instead of saying "You,
Vashti," he said " You, Martha," and
when he sought to find Sidney's name
he could only say " Len."
The composure of the women gave
way. Mabella buried her face in
Lanty's arm and cried unrestrainedly.
Tears streamed over Lanty's face also.
Those words, Martha and Lea, showed
how lovingly, despite his stem denial
, Google
THE NEW INVASION. 147
of their suit, the old man had thought the good fight, I have finished my
of his daughter and her sweetheart. course."
His voice wandered and failed, Sid- Dr. Harrow and Mr. Simpson enter-
ney and Vashti knelt beside the bed. ed the room, and the others quitted it,
Temperance stole forward and touch- and hardly were they gone ere the un-
ing them, motioned for them to go. seen guest stole out from the shadows
As they rose the old man looked at and looked into the old man's eyes,
them. A little bewilderment flickered There was neither fear nor reluctance
into his eyes. in them, nothing but welcome, and a
" It's not Martha and Len " — then trust which was transcendent ; and in
his eyes cleared. "lam going to them a few moments the unseen guest folded
and the mother." Then he looked at the longing spirit of the old man in a
Sidney, " Be thou faithful unto death," strong embrace and bore it to where
he said, the solemnity of the words "beyond these voices there is peace."
graining an incalculable force from the Thus Sidney was married. Thus the
weakness of the voice. Then he began mantle of the pastorate of Dole fell
to murmur to himself, " 1 have fought upon his shoulders.
(To be Continued.)
THE NEW INVASION.
T AM the North.
-^ Though I lacked men to till the soil
And reap its fruits with modest toil,
My sons went forth
By many thousands year by year.
With health and strength and sturdy cheer ;
Went all untaught
The land of Golden Ease to And,
Not recking that they left behind
The thing they sought.
I did not speak,
Yet did my broad deep bosom hold
Unmeasured store of that same gold
Which they did seek ;
And all around the fertile plains
Lay groaning deep in labour pains ;
Earth's womb replete,
Called but for hands with patient care
To ease the burden and to share
Reward full mete.
They would not heed,
But hastened, each to cast his lot
With that Fair South which loved htm not.
And scorned his breed.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
But lured him with that lustre fair
Which he in vain thought he might share
Did he but strive ;
And so they wandered one by one
Yet to their Mother's task undone
All un-alive.
At length there came
Men of the South who spalce my tongue
Yet did not to my race belong,
And O the shame !
They cleft my sides and from me tore
The treasure that my bosom bore
For mine own kin.
Swift too came hordes with fevered haste
Prom Iceland bare and Russian waste
With Babel din.
These tread the plain ;
They see what mine own failed to see,
They plod with patient industry ;
Full great their gain.
I grudge it not, yet do I grieve
Lest these unwelcome guests should weave
From Race and Tongue
A web so strong that evermore
Shall fright the Saxon from my shore.
And that ere long.
Ye do not need
That serfs long trained beneath the rod
Or men of any other blood
Should taint your breed.
Ye are enough if ye be true
And cherish me as you should do,
To hold your own.
But 'ware the Tartar and the Slav,
Or if with them ye commerce have.
Your fate bemoan.
Northmen ! Awake !
This bond of alien thraldom break.
Your lawful place and station take.
Awake ! Awake 1
Hold fast the land, hold fast your speech.
And to the rash intruder teach
That ye are Lords,
Who govern in your Mother's name.
Who will not see her put to shame.
These are my words.
H. H. Godfrey.
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NORTHERN
WITH RIFLE AND ROD IN THE MOOSE LANDS OF
NORTHERN ONTARIO.
ILLUSTRATED FROM AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHS.
By W, R. Wadsworti,
TN this degenerate, moribund nine-
^ teenth century, in Southern Ontario,
as well as in the Eastern States, the
"forest primeval" is rapidly becoming
a thing of the past, — the lumberman
and his enemy, the forest fire, have
both been at their work of destruction.
And year by year game, especially of
the latter kinds, is retreating before
the ever advancing axe and plough,
while fish are, alas! becoming remark-
able, more on account of their scarcity
than their size. Perhaps, then, a short
sketch of agreat land, most of which is
still covered with virgin forest, may not
prove wholly uninteresting.
In these days of feverish bustle and
ceaseless hurry the sportsman's time is
too precious to waste in sitting from
early morn till dewy eve waiting phleg-
matically for the cautious nibble of a
satiated cat-fish, or in tramping the
country-side, staggering for weary miles
under the weight of a trusty rifle, in hot
pursuit of chattering squirrels and de-
riding carrion crows. If he really wants
to catch something when he "goes fish-
ing," or to shoot something when he
"goes shooting," he must strike for
the wilds. But "the wilds" are some-
what elusive. You put your finger on
the map and say " Here ! " But Can-
ada, and especially Ontario, is being
opened up so rapidly that the mere fact
that a locality is situated some hun-
dreds of miles from home and possesses
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
an Indian name that defies pronuncia-
tion is no guarantee that the ever-ad-
vancing wave of civilization has not
already encroached upon, perhaps even
engulfed, the place of- your random
choice. For instance, some half
dozen years ago, fired with talcs of
the possibilities of Northern Ontario
from the sportsman's standpoint, a
party of us invaded the headwaters of
the Ottawa— Lake Quinze, Lake Kip-
pewa and Lake Temiscamingue — and
made them our scene of operations for
the summer. But go where we would
the ubiquitous lumberman haunted us to
remind us of a civilization from whose
restraints we
were seeking
to escape.
The most
beautiful of
the lakes and
rivers were
robbed of half
their charms
by the un-
r o mantic
"Come in
and have a
Northern Ontario. For
let a man once contract the camping
fever, he is subjected with the return
of each spring to a recurrence of the
malady. With the advent of the first
robin unmistakable symptoms show
themselves, and the attack increases in
violence until business becomes an im-
possibility and city pleasures pall.
He has but one remedy — -a flight to
the wilds with rifle and rod. As
Kipling says : —
" He must go — go — go away from here,
On the other side Ibe world he's overdue.
'Send your way is clear belore you, when
. the old spring-fret comes o'er you
And the Red-
Gods call for ■
you !
"So for one the
ing throug'h
the rainbow
round tho
And for one the
creak of sn
shoe
I the
; hospit-
boat load of ^*" '"'S""Tu^k"T^ " ""■ '
wild river- LmpanyMdi,t,^Mi<^'m
drivers. It
was disappointing ; but adapting our-
selves to circumstances we had a jolly
time, and incidentally became initiated
into the mysteries of camp-life. For no
man knows instinctively how to keep a
canoe, especially when deeply laden,
from being swamped in a heavy sea ;
how to guide it down a broken rapid,
or even to portage it for long distances
through underbrush or marsh and over
broken ground. A canoe trip that
covers some eight hundred miles of
waters of all kinds and includes three-
score portages is a good apprenticeship
in the voyagcur's calling.
The following year we again spent
Ib their'
lule-
e the
coughing 111
the dust.
Who hath smell
wood-smoki-
at twilight ?
birch-log burning?
Who is quick to read the noises of the
night ?
He must follow wilh Che others, for the
young mens feel are lurning
To the camps of proved desire and known
delight."
On our second trip North, profiting
by the experience of the preceding
year, our party struck in a northwest-
erly direction from the head of Lake
Temiscamingue, an expansion of the
Upper Ottawa, across country by vari-
ous canoe-routes to Fort Matagami, a
Hudson's Bay Company's post on the
northern slope of the "Height of
Land," the watershed between the
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WITH ROD AND GUN IN NORTHERN ONTARIO
Great Lakes and Hudson Bay, and
here we found an ideal country for the
paddler and sportsman, as yet wholly
unsurveyed, and only explored along
the main water routes used by the Hud-
son's Bay Company. Avoiding these
usual waterways, we passed through a
track of forest and rock, utterly wild
and desolate save for the occasional
visit of an Indian hunter or trapper.
We found, too, an additional charm
in this trip
from the
fact that we
were de-
pendent for
guidance
upon a
rough
sketch of
our route,
made for us
by Big Paul,
an Indian
from the
Hudson's
Bay Com-
pany's post
on Lake
Temagami.
Nipissing
district has
well been
ca lied '^a
" Paddler's
Paradise."
From Lake
Huron as
far north as
Jiitnes Bay
it is inter-
sected in all
by rivers
and dotted
with lakes. Some ot these lakes are
mere ponds ; others, like Lake Ab-
bitibbi and Lake Temiscamingue, are
sheets of water sixty or seventy miles
in length. Some are open ; others
studded with rocky islands. Temag-
ami's islands outrival those of the far-
famed St. Lawrence in their number
and variety. In some places they
form a veritable labyrinth ; at every
turn the channels seemed blocked
— here by a bald fantastically -shaped
rock, there by a pine-clad hill round-
ed and symmetrical. Or take some
other lake, nestling deep among its
hills : here the shore rises, rocky and
bare, hundreds of feet sheer out of
the water; there the hills fall back and
the giant pines crowd down to the
water's edge. Into this little bay a
stream comes tumbling down and loses
itself in the
midst of
countless
water-lilies
that glisten
in the sun
and fill the
— o n e of
Nature's in-
though this
land be, life
is almost
unbearable
here during
the early
save to the
Indian or
Half-breed;
leTe'picur-
ean black
flies, stag-
flies, and mosquitoes — to say nothinj^
of the diminutive but blood-thirsty
sand-flies. The supply of blood is
limited, the capacity of these insects
unbounded ; so woe betide the unfor-
tunate voyageur with an epidermis less
than a quarter of an inch in thickness.
I was in the woods with a survey
parly one year during the fly season,
and look back upon that experience as
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
upon a nightmare. I doubt, however,
whether man's sufferings are as great
in this respect as those of the unhappy
deer and moose. These poor creatures
are to be seen on everj' lake and river
standing in the water with but their
heads exposed, oblivious in their ef-
forts to escape from their tormentors,
even to the presence of man. How-
ever, by the first of August the studies
in vivisection of these pests are well-
nigh ended ; for this reason the canoe-
ist will be wise to postpone his start
North until that date.
For exciting work to which a spice
of danger lends a charm com-
mend me to running a rapid.
The ordinary wooden canoe is
not so well adapted for such
work as the Indian's birch-
bark, which is so broad amid-
ships that it can be turned as
upon a pivot, while the long,
narrow wooden canoe is far
more inclined to obey the dic-
tates of the rushing boiling
water — dictates prompting it
to hurl itself on some knile-
like ledge of rock — than to
yield to the wishes of the
steersman expressed through
the medium of a light paddle.
That there is an element of
danger in the sport is evident
when one recollects that the
gunwale of a loaded canoe is
but a few inches above the
You glide out on that dark
smooth slide of water at the
head of the rapid. The die is
cast, there is no turning back.
Just ahead the dark water sud-
denly breaks into white, and
the stream goes tumbling down
in mad tumult through its
avenue of trees. The canoe
hurries on toward the broken
water, headed for a narrow
opening between two project-
ing rocks. She rushes safely
through the passage, hut the
current snatches her and hurls
:<ifagr. her straight towards one of
the partially-covered boulders
with which the channel is filled. Too
late the bowman sees it. The danger
is imminent ; to strike would entail
consequences too serious to think
of. The bow of the canoe is al-
most on the rock, but a desperate
stroke of the paddle thrusts her to one
side, and she flies past the danger with
no worse results than the loss of some
paint. Down, down, in a cloud of spray,
grazing rock after rock ! A moment
only of this wildly exhilarating work
and already the foot of the rapids is
reached. Here perhaps lies the great-
est danger, for the water is piled up
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:y Google
WITH ROD AND GUN IN NORTHERN ONTARIO
'53
into great broken waves that come
leaping after the canoe, which is
torn along with irresistible force. On,
on ! A final plunge ! She tosses for
a moment like a cork, then shoots out
into calm water, whose circling eddies
betray the struggles of the mighty cur-
rent still surging below the surface.
The portage-paths are usually quite
distinct and easy to follow on the cus-
tomary canoe-routes, but away from
these a path, or even an apology for one,
is an unknown luxury. Here the only
guide that one has through the thick
underbrush is an intermittent line of
"blazed" trees, and when the
marks of the axe become
partly obliterated by age or
hidden by the underbrush,
what is there to guide one ?
Nor are the difficulties of
keeping in the "narrow way"
lessened to any material ex-
tent when one is buried under
a canoe and overwhelmed, in
addition, with a crushing load
of cam'p-impedimenfa. How
jauntily you sling the canoe
upon your shoulders, adjust
your load, and set out at a
trot over some portage. For
the first hundred yards the
forest is quite open, but the .
underbrush becomes thicker,
and your pace soon slackens.
Here a large tree has blown
down across the portage, and
you must push your way
through the bushes to get
around it. It is difficult to
force the canoe through the
tangle of branches, but at
length the obstacle is passed.
Now you find yourself in a
damp marshy spot where the
feet sink deep at every step.
Vou are cheered, however,
by the sight of a stretch of
bare rock ahead — anything
but this awful bog. The rock
is reached but all trace of
the path disappears. Not a
"i/iMf," not even a broken
twig! You are confident of
the direction, however, and Hmfivin,
push on and on, until a perpendicular
cliff bars your advance, and bears un-
mistakable witness to your faulty judg-
ment. Nothing for it but to turn
back ! But it is soon certain that you
have lost your bearings. You put down
the canoe and look around for some
landmark. None ! Profanity affords
so little relief that in despair, you de-
termine to strike again into the thicket
vainly hoping to find the line of blazed
trees once more.
Only one who has actually experi-
enced it knows the tremendous expen-
diture of moral courage it takes to
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
shoulder that load again in cold blood.
The spirit says "Go," the flesh,
" Stay," You go and prove the supe-
riority of mind over matter. The deep-
er you go the thicker becomes the
underbrush. Despair seizes you. The
weig;ht of the canoe bruises your shoul-
ders, the dunnage-bag on your back
becomes a combination of corners and
lumps, the rifle in your hand catches
in every bush. You stagger on, nearly
blinded by perspiration ; your knees are
ready to collapse. In utter anguish you
groan and say with the poet, "The
burden laid upon me is greater than I
can bear," — But all things, good or bad,
must end sometime. The supreme mo-
ment comes
whe
you
feel that yoi
must give up
— when Joy !
— a broken
twig, ablazed
tree — you
have found
the portage.
md towards
J of £
the
trip even wel-
comes it as a
change from
paddling. Indians finishinc
Much de-
pends, of course, on the way in which
the load is adjusted and pack-strap fast-
ened. When portages of two and even
three miles are not infrequent, every
extra pound counts, and supplies must
be curtailed as much as possible if
everything is to be carried across the
portage in one trip. Only the plainest
and strongest foods should be taken —
" multum in parvo " is the motto.
Flour, pork, beans, salt and tea are
necessaries— so perhaps are rice, dried
apples and a few pounds of sugar. On
such fare, supplemented by fish, game
and berries a man can live like a prince.
This canoe-trip through Northern
Ontario offers great opportunities to a
man with anything of the sportsman in
him. At different times during the
last six summers I have paddled
through this district in all directions —
as far north as Lake Abbitibb! and
Fort Matachewan, the Hudson Bay
Company's post on the Montreal
River, and as far west as Lake Mata-
gami and Lake Biscotasing. Mata-
gami and Abbitibbi lie to the north of
the Height of Land, and their waters
flow into James Bay. The more one
sees of the land the more he is im-
pressed with the fact that the country
is simply a vast natural park stocked
with game, lish and fur-bearing ani-
mals of many varieties.
It IS very
seldom tha't
the "Tender-
foot " comes
across a bear
in this thickly-
wooded coun-
try, no matter
how ardent a
may be ; lor
Bruin has an
instinctive
knowledge
that his hide
fifteen dollars
Hud-
post, and con-
sequently always tries to avoid nolice.
Only in the early summer or when
wounded and brought to bay will he
attack man. Personally I have as-
sisted at the shooting of but one bear
(and a cold-blooded murder it was),
but the Indians get a great many — gen-
erally, however, in the autumn or
spring and with the aid of traps. Fas-
tened on the trees in front of one In-
dian hut I counted no fewer than
eighty-four bear-skulls. Near Fort
Matachewan another Indian has set up
a similar proof of his prowess. Last
winter two Indian boys from Lake
Temagami, one thirteen and the other
fifteen, trapped and killed nine bear
Digitized by Google
WITH ROD AND GUN IN NORTHERN ONTARIO
'55
during the season. For six months
these two boys lived alooe in the for-
est, many miles from home. It is a
rough school, but one that turns out
men of splendid physique and great en-
durance. No " degenerate red men"
are these Indians, whose lives are spent
in the toils and hardships of hunting
and trapping.
My first ex-
perience with
a bear long
furnished a
subject of
banter io
camp. It was
long', long
ago, so 1 do
□ot mind tell-
ing the story.
Two of us,
"The Waif"
and myself,
had left camp
in a canoe to
g«t a pailful
of berries.
We were a gorge on t
young and
very verdant,
and had great
faith in the
traditional
ferocity of the
bear nature.
A short pad-
dle brought
us to an open
space which
promised to
be a good
spot for blue-
berries. The
ground was
very rough
and broken, falls on brlnsw
and was
strewn with large masses of rock which
had fallen from the cliff above. We
landed, leaving the rifle in the canoe, and
set to work. The berries were plenti-
ful ; in a quarter of an hour, having
filled my pail, I was ready to return to
camp. " The Waif," I knew, was near
me. because for several minutes I had
heard him moving about just on the
other side of the large mass of fallen
rock behind which I was seated pick-
ing. 1 stood up to tell him that I was
ready logo. "Come on ~,"but I got
no further. It is rather disconcerting,
to say the least, to glance over a
rock expecting to see a friend, and in-
stead to find
oneself face
to face with
a bear in the
act of raiding
your berry-
patch. But
this
edii
I the
in which I
found myself.
I am natural-
ly impulsive,
and now, act-
ing on the
for the rifle
(as I have
t a i n e d ,
though opin-
ions have
differed on
this point).
Neither did
Bruin alto-
gether retain
his
mpos-
ure ; he had
evidently
been as much
taken by sur-
prise as I had,
for a heavy
wind blow-
icK HOUSE RIVER. ing dircctly
towards us
bad played havoc with his powers
of scent. So, considering his hide
of more value to himself than to
the Hudson Bay Company, Bruin ran
too, in groundless terror, and with such
precipitation that he failed to notice
"The Waif," who was still calmly
picking berries some fifty yards away.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
the right-
eous fury
of that
exact! n g
Deiiy ,
the Can-
p a r t -
ridge —
s of the stirring events that
were taking place so near him. Crash !
"The Waif" looked up. A bear!
Thirsting for human blood, perhaps !
The occasion called for presence of
mind and immediate action. Would
he, like David, attack the bear un-
armed and slay bJm, or would he
get the rifle and despatch him in the
orthodox manner? It would certainly
be far more picturesque to dash his
brains out with the tin berry-pail, but
death by shooting appeared less pain-
ful. Far be it from "The Waif" to
cause unnecessary suffering ; and, like
myself, he also ran for the rifle. Perhaps
there was some little delay while we
collected our thoughts and firearms,
perhaps we were a little too cautious
in our advance- — whatever the reason,
when we reached the berry-patch the
bear was gone. As soon as we were
convinced that he was really nowhere
in the neighbourhood, we redoubled
our efforts to And him, but, alas ! in
vain — that bear's discretion had saved
his life.
Among the victims immolated on the
camp-fire as votive oflferings to appease
duck,
and por-
cupine.
Thepart-
ridge of
these
Northern
4E HINTING GROVNDS. WOodsaf-
ford little
or no sport, being stupid and tame
to a degree. 1 have seen a whole
covey brought down one by one from
a tree in which they had taken re-
fuge— decapitated with the rifle. It was
interesting work from the markman's
standpoint, but no doubt unsportsman-
like ; but then it is also unsportsman-
like to feel hungry or long for a change
from fish and salt pork. Even the
most scrupulous sportsman could,
doubtless, compound with hi."; consci-
ence while demolishing a liberal help-
ing of pot-pie with partridge as the
main ingredient.
"Porcupine" does not sound appe-
tizing, but roasted in the ashes, quills
and all, it is delicious. Among the
Indians it used to dispute with beaver
the title of the piece de resistance at
their great feasts. Porcupine are still
plentiful, but the days of the beaver
seem numbered. The "beaver-mea-
dows " that one finds on every little
stream show how numerous at one
time these valuable animals were. But
nowadays it is only on the most re-
mote rivers and lakes that they can
be found. They are, however, by no
:y Google
means yet extinct, for every winter a
considerable number are trapped by
the Indians. In spite gf our Ontario
Game Laws the traders buy all the
skiDS they can obtain, to hold them
till the close season for beaver cKpires in
[900, when they will place them on the
market. In the earty days before the
advent of the white trapper, and even
b recent years, each Indian had a re-
ci^nized district in which he trapped.
Thus, when a man found a colony of
beaver, he could often leave them un-
disturbed for a couple of years to mul-
liply and grow in size. Nowadays in
^If-defence he must kill the goose
that lays the golden egg, for fear that
some stranger will find his treasure —
for a colony of beaver are a valuable
asset, when the Hudson Bay Compauy
will give from eight to ten dollars
worth of goods for a large skin.
I have several times seen the large
conical "beaver-lodges" built of the
trunks of saplings in a sandy bay of
«)me lake, but only once have I come
across one of the famous " beaver-
dams." Returning to camp one after-
VC ,57
noon with a bag of partridge, I was
pushing my way through a thicket of
small saplings, endeavouring to follow
the course of a creek, when I came
upon a place where many of the smaller
trees had apparently been chopped
off near the ground. Nothing but the
stumps remained, and everywhere there
were scattered large chips ; the work
was done as neatly as if with an axe.
I knew that I must be near a colony
of beaver, and a short distance farther
down stream found the village of
these woodcutters. The creek widened
out into a fairly large pond ; in it were
four of the unmistakable beaver-lodges.
The reason for the widening of the
stream was not far to seek, for across
the foot of the pond was a convex line
of branches and saplings, denuded
of bark and partly covered with mud,
perhaps not the marvel of engineering
skill, of which we read in our school-
books (for the branches were certainly
not dovetailed into one another), but
an extraordinary piece of work, never-
theless.
(To be concluded next month.)
MUSIC.
MUSIC, what art thou not ! The soul of things :
The lyre of Amphion'in the Theban eve
Moving the stones ; or when great Orpheus sin
The trees and rocks Olympian places leave.
Music ! the soft employment of far spheres,
Where they alone can hear their drifted song ;
The deep inspirer of the joy divine
That wakes returning years ;
The blissful voice of the great vernal throng,
That from Apollo brought their lyrics fine.
O ! nightingale, singing o'er Orpheus' grave.
At lone Libethra, in the Grecian night.
What classic woe is thine ! What love can save
Thee from thy grief and from thy mournful plight !
Yet sing, thou kin of singing stars sublime ;
Orpheus yet hears thee on Olympus' side ;
His lyre and soul move with thee through the spring,
Hymning the golden time,
.\nd Argonauts upon the ocean wide.
And sirens, his unmatched song silencing.
John Stuart Thomson.
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CANADIAN CELEBRITIES.
BYRON EDMUND WALKER.
TT has often been said that so far in
-^ her history Canada has produced
no great divines, no great linguist, no
poet of more than ordinary merit, and
no prose writer whose works are much
above mediocrity. This may be true,
and the wonder would be if it was not
so. The conditions of Canadian life
up to a very recent date have not been
favourable to those who would excel in
literature or the sciences. The battle
for tlie necessities of life for the vast
mass of Canadians has been too keen
to permit parents to give their children,
even if of exceptional ability, the bene-
fit of early and constant scholastic
training. The consequence has been
that, though Canada may, and doubt-
less does, possess men who, under
more favourable circumstances, would
have become noted in the literary or
scientific world, these latter have be-
come mere units in the " Oi noXXoi" of
everyday life. They are excellent in
their way and in their own circle,
"only that and nothing more."
But true as the foregoing assertions
may be as regards the men who have
devoted their lives and energies to lit-
erature in its various forms, to theol-
ogy or to the fine arts, the same thing
cannot be said of the men who have
taken up the financial and business
concerns of the Dominion. They
have succeeded in making Canada not
a mere cluster of disjointed provinces,
cities, towns and villages, so far as
business is concerned, but a great
commercial nation with a vast export
and import trade, and with credit on
the Exchanges of Europe second only
to that of the Mother Country itself.
For able bankers, for shrewd finan-
ciers, for the most capable of em-
ployers of labour, Canada has never
had to go outside her own boundaries.
These men have been home grown.
of native production, " racy of the
soil,"
One of the most notable among the
men who have done yeoman service to
Canadian commerce is Mr. B. E.
Walker, the general manager — the
commander-in-chief, so to speak — of
the small army of managers and clerks
who, subject to the Board of Direc-
tors, conducts the affairs of the Cana-
dian Bank of Commerce. This bank,
with its branches in all parts of the
Dominion, with its correspondents in
all the chief cities of Great Britain, Ire-
land and Europe, with agents in India,
Ceylon, Japan and Australia, is, as are
some other similar concerns, one of the
marvels of Canadian progress. Forty
years ago such institutions were not
even dreamed of; most people thought
they were not wanted, that they could
not be made to pay. Far-seeing men
were, though, of a different opinion,
and acted on it; the supply of banking
facilities created a demand, and at the
present time the amount on deposit in
the various country branches of our
banking institutions, excluding the
cities in lolo, is greater in amount than
was the case torty years since in the
entire district formed by the present
provinces of Ontario and Quebec. It
is but sixty-five years ago that a
customer established a "record" at
the Bank of Upper Canada by deposit-
ing and having to his credit "all at
once" the then enormous sum of ^^3,-
000 sterling, or $15,000!
Byron E. Walker is a native
Canadian, was born tn Haldimand,
Ontario, a little more than fifty years
ago, and was educated at the public
schools. He commenced his business
career in Hamilton as a clerk to his
uncle, Mr. J. W. Murton, a private
banker in the "Ambitious City." In
1868, before he had completed his
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CANADIAN CELEBRITIES
'59
twentieth year, he had entered the
Bank of Commerce. So zealously did
he discharge his duties, so well did
he fulfil the apostolic injunction,
" whatsoever thy hand findeth thee to
do, do it with
thy might,"
that in four
years' time he,
ling of twenty-
four years,
was account'
ant in the head
office, Toron-
to. After this
he became
third agent of
the bank in
New York ;
Manager at
Windsor,
Ont. ; Mana-
ger at Lon-
don, Inspec-
tor of the
bank. Mana-
ger at Ham-
ilton
JO
agent at New
York, and fin-
ally, in Oc-
tober, 1 886,
Ma
Canadian Bankers' Association ; and is
also a trustee and senator of Toronto
University. In addition to these offi-
ces he is president of the Canadian
Institute, a Kellow of the Geological
Society of
England, and
also a director
of the Canada
Lifelnsurance
Company.
But this is
al
ager
bank.
Mr. Wal-
posed suc-
cessfully.
our sys-
tem of
banking
with that IN 1870.
pursued in
the United States. He has been
chairman of the banking section of
the Board of Trade ; first a vice-
president then twice president of the
all :
he
sion spare
time to pre-
side at a meet-
ingoflheWo-
men's Art As-
sociation or
to attend a
banquet given
by Canadian
authors. He
has himself
written most
lucidly and
forcibljvl^on
banking, on
Italian art and
on bimetall-
ism. These
include a tol-
e rably
wide
range of
subjects
and
thought,
yet Mr.
Walker
has writ-
ten on no
subject
which has
not ac-
quired in-
creased
his articles, from the mere fact that
he has discussed it.
Politically Mr. Walker is said to be
a Liberal. He is probably more of -t
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i6o
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
" Philosophic Radical " than anything;
else, his publicly-expressed views coin-
ciding in many important respects with
those of John Stuart Mill, Henry Faw-
cett and Auberon Herbert. With
vain theories such as the abolition in
Canada of all monarchical forms of
government and the substitution of a
pure democracy, Mr. Walker has no
sympathy — they are of no practical
value ; he has to use a homely phrase,
"no use for them or their supporters."
He is a man of the people, whose aim is
to serve well those from whom he has
sprung. He is not insensible to hon-
ours when duly earned ; what
thoughtful man is? And he appre-
ciates, as he has the right to do, the
comfortable home and pleasant sur-
roundings which are his. He owes
them to his own industry, his own en-
ergy ; and may he be spared many
years to enjoy them.
Mr. Walker married just twenty-five
years ago Miss Alexander, of Hamil-
ton. It may be remarked without
being considered impertinent that in
his choice of a wife Mr. Walker dis-
played his usual excellent judgment.
Mr, and Mrs. Walker have a son who
bids fair to take a prominent place in
the scientific world.
It is to be hoped the time is yet dis-
tant when the epitaph of Mr. Walker
will have to be written. But he would
wish no better than this: "Write me
as one who served his fellow-men."
T. E. C.
FRANCOIS LEBOEUF, THE OLD VOYAGEUR.
A LEGEND OF THE EARLY CANADIAN HEROES.
HOSANNA ! Hosanna ! B^oi
soit Dieu. Gloire k celui qui
vient sauver le monde," sang a quaint
voice on the shores of the Ottawa one
May evening just as the sun was set-
ting.
"I say, Jack, that last bit sounds
very well in French— 1 like it better
than in English," said a cheery voice.
The speaker, Tom Shelton, was a
large, powerful, good-natured medical
student, who, after a winter of severe
study, was taking a canoe trip from
Ottawa to Montreal as a much-needed
recreation. His companion. Jack Hal-
borough, was of a delicate, nervous
disposition, passionately fond of music,
and the possessor of a voice fascinat-
ing in its quaintness.
It was the evening of the third day
of their voyage, and they had decided
to pitch their tent on the west shore
below the Long Sault Rapids, which
they had just " run." In choosing the
spot for the camp, they discovered the
little Rideau River which falls over
the abrupt bank of the Ottawa at this
part. The beauty of the stream with
its enticing trout pools was not to be
resisted, and they soon had their canoe
hauled up, tent pitched, and prepara-
tions made for the night. Tom had
his rod out trying to increase their bill-
of-fare, and Jack was watching him
from the tent and singing snatches of
familiar songs. The echoes of the
song had scarcely died away when an
old, weather-beaten man came up the
bank carrying a peeled willow fishing-
pole in one hand and a long string of
fish in the other. The old fisherman
appeared slightly stooped and very
wrinkled in countenance. His straight
black hair, with all its lustre retained
in spite of his ninety years of age, his
high cheek bones, dark restless eyes,
and copper-tinted skin, all proclaimed
a taint of Indian blood inherited from
his forefathers.
It was evident that the song had at-
tracted him, for he came over to a seat
by the tent exclaiming the while :
" Cest beau! c'est beau.' encore! en-
core!" Jack rather hesitated at first.
:y Google
FRANCOIS LEBCEUF, THE OLD VOYAGEUR
i6i
but, after renewed demands on the
part of the old fisherman, sang song
after song, chiefly in French, with the
effect of fascinating his listener more
aod more. In fact, Tom realized that
the listener had been passing through
the stage of admiration and fascination
until he approached that stage of men-
tal subjugation which is akin to mes-
merism. As Tom had given up fish-
ing; and gone to prepare supper. Jack,
hoping to draw out the old man, com-
plimented him on his fine string of fish
and offered to buy some of them. The
old fisherman was greatly incensed at
being offered money for them by the
" bourgeois," and immediately began
to prepare them after his own primi-
tive way. The boys watched him with
interest, and could not but admire his
results in cooking. The meal over,
the old man produced his pipe, and,
with that deliberation of movement
seen only after a satisfying meal, pro-
ceeded to fill and light it. As in
shadowy curls the smoke arose in the
cool night air, the smoker glanced
from it to the face of the singer and
back again. In the wreaths of rising
smoke he seemed to see some ghostly
visitor, and his rapidly-shifting gaze
suggested the idea that he was compar-
ing the living with the dead. After a few
minutes of uninterrupted observation,
he appeared satisfied, his face relaxed,
and he gave a grunt of conviction.
Jack, hoping to learn more of their
singular visitor, remarked: "This
must have been a fine hunting-ground
years ago."
For some time this remark elicited
no response, but finally the old hunter
turned to Jack and said : "You know
all 'bout mon grandpere Francois Le-
bceuf? Non ? C'est curieux, because
he use for sing jus' like you." After
gazing into the fire and silently draw-
ing his pipe a few breaths he resumed :
" Francois, he's be great hunterman —
de bees man for catch de castor 1 never
see. He's leevon de wood all de tam,
an' never sleep on de house. He's
show me how for catch dc fish, an'
shoot de moose an' caribou; but one
day he pass on hees canoe for make a
long voyage. He paddle down de Ot-
tawa an' St. Lawrence so far as de
Richelieu, an' den he pass up de Riche-
lieu till he reach de big lake. Dere
he's cachi his canoe an' pass on dose
ole Iroquois hunting-groun'. I 'pose
he ^o over dere for die, for he never
come back no more. Vou see hee
leeve dere long time ago, was ' beeg
man' in Iroquois camp, when lots of
Iroquois stay dere. Mon grandpere,
he never say much 'bout dat time, but
ma grandmere she be Iroquois squaw,
and she tole me lots, all 'bout his fader
an' his grandfader. She tole me dat
his gran'fader was so great man for
sing, dat when he be prisonnier, de
beeg medicine-man was come to his
wigwam for make de talk wid him. I
be sure me, dat U ban Dieu was help
him much, for after dat he's be make
marii wid de daughter of de chief, and
den be great medicine-man."
The old man had such an earnest
way of speaking that his listeners were
carried away with him, and pictured to
themselves a lone, weary captive, in a
cheerless wigwam, expecting a hor-
rible death by torture, raising his voice
in prayer and song to the great God
who rules us all.
After a few moments Jack queried :
"And did he not try to escape?"
"No use for dat," resumed the hun-
ter, "he's kill too many brave in battle
to be loose like dat,"
"You see dat bush on de fiel' near
by the reever side ? Oest bten ! dat is
where he fight — long time ago— avec le
Capitaine Dollard.
" De Iroquois on dat time be great
warrior, have many village wid pi.enty
wigwam on de oder side de St. Law-
rence. All de tribe have decided for
pass on Canada in de spring and kill
all de Frenchman, get plenty scalp,
and boss all de countree. Dollard wa-s
brave sodger man from La Belle
France. He's take wid htm sixteen
camarade, an' afer dey say deir las'
mass, dey pass on canoe up de Ottawa
to meet les sauvages. 1 tink, me, dose
man be more brave dan dey be now,
for dey make prepare to die, an' pass
up so far as here where de Sault stop
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l62
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
dem — and all de t!me dey know so
well dey never see deir frien' again.
Over dere by dat bush dey was place
deir camp an' make use some ole pali-
sade dey find. In few day de Iroquois
was shoot le Sault, an' be very please
dey find some scalp so soon."
A few more puffs at the pipe, and a
careful study of the rising smoke fol-
lowed this, and he resumed :
" On stormy night when I smoke by
de fire it seem to me I see jus' how dat
fight was carry on. De wind in de
leave an' tall pine tree was seem like
de howl of many brave as dey rush for
break de palisade an' kill dose few
Frenchman. I seem to see dose poor
man how dey fight all day, an' when
de night was come must fight some
more, while les sauvages try for burn
de palisade. I see so plain how
Frenchman dat's feel like die, is do
hees bess' for eat his meat an' corn
with not'ing for drink. I see him
stop — he's be so tirsty, an' den I see
one tall brave man pass down de
reever an' bring him back some water,
while de sauvage do deir bess' for kill
him. 1 see many night follow many
day, an' all de time 1 see dose braver
man was fight, an' pray, an' sing, more
sure each day dey soon would see deir
King. I see more Iroquois in large
canoe pass up de Ottawa to join in de
. grande attack. Dey fight an' fight
some more, an' lose so many brave
dey be some 'fraid dey mus' go back
an' lose dose scalp. An' den when de
fire burn low I see so plain how dose
poor man was get so weak dey hardly
can shoot deir_^m/. Some was wound
an' some was dead, while de mos' brave
sauvage prepare for make de las' at-
tack. In de howl of de wind I hear
de many warhoop as dey try for break
de palisade, an' as de wind make strong
de fire until it be dead, so dose war-
hoop make strong dose weak man
until dey too be dead. When de fire
go out, 1 look up at de sky, an' dere
among de cloud an' star I see so clear
all de same brave face as of dose ole
voyttgeurs, an' if de wind blow sofF, I
hear dose ole, ole song dey use' to sing
as dey wait on dis bank for detr las'
fight. Den de leeve an' de wind an' de
rapide in de reever all join for sing
dat grand chanson, ^ Beni a Dieu.'
Sometime I wish for chances for be
brave an' please le ban Dieu, like dat,
but dey never seem to come at all.
Den 1 be glad for know dat mon parent
Francois Lebceuf have fight dat time,
an' help for save his Canada, an' dat
les Iroqtiois was carry him home after
dat long fight for make de great tor-
ture an' maybe burn 'live. He be mos'
dead when dey arrive, an' so dey leave
him few days for come more strong, so
he's make more better de many torture.
" But dis le bon Dieu would not al-
low, so he's join de tribe, an' tnarii de
daughter of de chief. Ma grandmere
tole me dat he's be drown on Niagara
when he's try for save some poor squaw
from pass over £3 cAu/f. Even de waters
seem to know dat he's be brave man, for
dey pass him on de shore jus' same as
'fore he be drown — wid a smile on his
face — na' ordinatrement dere be noting
leff at all of man dat pass over la chute.
De Iroquois be very scare 'bout dat,
an' many de story I hear tole how de
Great Spirit was talk wid him at night,
an' how dey was arrange together all
de raid an' hunt an' everyting.
" For long time dey not bury him,
but tink his spirit be gone wid de Great
Spirit for make little visit in de happy
hunting groun' ; praps dey be right, for
I be sure if he once be dere, he never
like for come back again among dose
lazy Indian dog.
" Dey say dat where he pass over la
chule some little islan' grow up on dat
spot an' make divide la chute. Maybe
dat's so ; but I tink, me, dat Indian be
so scare he don't see islan' before."
A few long puffs at the pipe, after a
swift, keen glance at the darkening sky
and forest, and he continued : —
" I be sure dat mon parent live on de
sky wid h bon Dieu, for all thro' my
life I seem to feel dat he look down at
me, an' when I be in danger he ask le
bon Dieu for make me brave an' strong
■ — when I be hungre, he show me
Where's de game — when I be wet, he
send de sun for dry me,' an', I be sure
when 1 die he's be one dose angele for
:y Google
take me on de sky. I be ole man now,
but I be ready when le bon Dieu please
for call me, an' I be glad for make dat
las' portage to join dose brave w^ageurs
an' sing wid dem dose ole, ole song".
But le bon Dieu choose his own time
for call me, an' to-night it seems to me
his time is mos' arrive. When I'se be
fish on de reever to-night I look at de
sun as he go to hees bed, an' Bnd him
so red dat de cloud an' de wood an' de
reever all be red jus' like blood. Dat's
make me link of de time, so long 'go,
when dis bank and dis reever be paint
wid the blood of de many dead, an' den
I s'pose I fall 'sleep, for I dream I'se
hear de voice of many peopl' as dey
sing, an' when I come near I see plenty
fine wigwam wid lots of game an' fish
hung roun'. In front dere be many
voyagedrs wid strange dress an' hat, all
sit roun' nice fire. Dey look so fat an'
happy wid lots peltrie an' very few gun
an' trap, dat I sees it mus' be very
fine place for hunt. 1 look on deir face,
but don't know dem, an' everyting,
even de tree an' de bush, seem so
strange I don't know what for tink.
Jus' when de sun Is set, one tall, strong
man stan' up an' begin for sing, 'Bent
a Dieu' an' as he sing dey all seem for
rise an' float 'way in de air till dey pass
in de cloud, an' 1 sec dem no more.
Dea I wake up an' hear you sing de
las' of your song, ' Glorie a ceux qui
TWILIGHT 163
n now, vien sauver le moitde,' an' I feel sure
dat I soon will join dose singer by de
camp fire, where de peltries is plenty,
de portage be short, an' de sun is always
shine."
The old man put up his cherished
pipe, rolled himself in his blanket be-
fore the fire, and dropped off to sleep.
The boys were very tired, and, after
some whispered comments, passed into
the tent to their couches of fir boughs.
At sunrise next morning Tom was
astir, as he wished to get an early
start. The old hunter was lying in
exactly the same position as on the
previous evening. After being about
for some time he became suspicious that
all was not right with their friend, and
removed the blanket from his face.
One look and touch was enough to
convince him that the old hunter had
passed to join his much beloved ances-
tor in the happy hunting grounds. Al-
though their acquaintance had been
short it was in many ways a sad awaken*
ingto ouryoungwyw^ewM. The modest
old man, with his simple faith and great
love for nature and nature's noblemen,
had made a lasting impression on them
both.
Which directs, like favouring currents,
Life's bark on its lonj; voyage,
BringN it safely by rocks and rapids,
To its last a\ysl.eT'\oas portage.
George Fisk.
TWILIGHT.
PALE the first stars, and paler the last light ;
And dimmer grow the glories of the field ;
And when the day is fading on my sight,
I hear the pure-toned, peaceful church-bells pealed.
The world grows still, and evening's orison
Swells from the boscage and a thousand throats.
Upon the glittering peaks the sun's last beams
Signal that day is done.
And in the hallowed west, a bright cloud floats
Touched with the glory of immortal dreams.
John Stuart Thomson.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
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PAUL POIRIER'S BEAR-TRAP.
THE nig-ht his small flock of sheep
came home panting, with a hunt*
ed look, and one more of their number
mbsing, was the oight Paul Polrier
niade the resolve which this story is to
trace.
It was in the French part of Cana-
da, and early spring. Paul's family
of children was large and his farm
poor. If ends were to meet, nothing
must be lost. The winter had been
hard, and the supply of hay for the
stock bad run low. The French Can-
adian's Rock of sheep were the first
to take a brave view of the situa-
tion. Day by day as the sun stripped
the great blue-berry heath of snow,
they bad ranged farther and farther
back towards the heavy woods, some
five miles away. Neither Paul nor
his wife hindered them, for every bite
the sheep got on the heath meant one
more for the cows in the barn.
But the flock had suffered severely.
Nine had dwindled to five. Both Paul
and his wife put their loss down to
" the bear." Paul had borne each suc-
ceeding diminution in his small flock
with strength and evenness ; he ac-
cepted it as bard fate, and went about
his work. But this last loss was too
much. It was the best sheep of his
flock. Bruin was going too far ; so
Paul braced himself and vowed ven-
geance.
" I'll have that bear if it takes a
month," he .said next morning, as he
bade his wife good-bye and set out
across the heath. He carried a small
axe, hit gun and some food. Paul
was not superstitious nor timid — he
never had been and he was resolved
not to be now ; still, as he climbed the
rear fence of the small farmi he was
not sure that he was as free from mis-
givings as if he had been going to his
ordinary work. From the door his
wife followed bim with her eye till he
grev small on the wide, brown heath;
then turned to pacify a squalling baby.
" I'd rather someone was with him,"
she muttered to herself, lifting the
child to her breast.
The morning was one ot those rare
ones that pay up for a whole winter,
no matter how severe it may have been.
The sun was still low, but it shot warm
and sharp over everything. The win-
ter was clean gone. Quick new life
was pulsing into everything. The
small streams and brooks had slid
snake-like from their old covers, and
were worming their way between the
brown knolls to the river. It was
good to be alive that morning, and to
be there on the heath.
Paul's strong blood beat warmly
through his veins. The morning had
braced the misgivings out of him, not
one was left. He was already per-
suaded of victory. What he would
gain — furs were high, he had heard —
stirred him more now than the thought
of what he lost had done the previous
night. Then, in addition to this, he
would have revenge on his old enemy.
In less than an hour Paul was on the
doomed bear's track. It led straight
towards the heavy woods. Here, just
as he entered, Paul discovered just
what he expected, the mangled remains
of his latest loss. There were bunches
of wool here and there, a number of
well-licked bones, and some small re-
mains of flesh. Paul gathered the
pieces of flesh quickly and went on.
This was just what he had wanted.
He now had bwt for his "dead-fall."
He was a step nearer victory and re-
venge. The activity of his mind, stir-
red anew by what he had seen at the
edge of the forest, reacted on bis body,
and he found himself racing viciously
along at fully double his former pace.
But the average bear is well up in
ethics. He knows right from wrong',
and when he commits a wrong he al-
ways knows that the safest point for him
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i66
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
is the one farthest away from the place
where the wrong may have been done.
So it may not after ail be incredible
that we should find Paul at two o'clock
in the afternoon still on the bear's trail,
but still without the bear.
But Paul was not in the least dis-
couraged. He munched some more of
the food he had brought as he rested
for a moment or two; then he hit upon
a capital site for his dead-fall and went
to work.
What the dead-fall is may be partly
understood from its name. When com-
pleted it resembles a miniature log-
camp. Three sides are securely log-
ged up, and on the other is the en-
trance. Inside there are three strong
stakes skilfully notched and placed as
an upright right-angle triangle. The
"trip-stick" which forms the hypothen-
use of the triangle is fitted to the stick
on which the bait is placed. The bait
may be reached by the bear going half
way into the trap, so that as soon as
the trip-stick slips from the notch the
huge logs, that have been suspended,
fall across the entrance, and the prize
is secure.
In three hours from the time he be-
gan Paul was placing the bait he had
brought upon the place intended for it.
He was sure his trap was well built
and strong, and that it would "spring"
easily. The bear, he knew, was in the
woods beyond, and in all probability
would return again when hungry for
the remains of the sheep he had left, or
for another one. Paul sat down for a
few minutes on a great fallen log op-
posite his rude trap, and then, for the
first time since last night, lit his short,
strong clay pipe. He felt fully satis-
fied as he looked through the smoke
at his finished work. He was not
given much to imaginings, but reason
how he would he could not help seeing
the old enemy of his harmless flock
half in the narrow doorway before him,
crushed nigh to death with those great
suspended logs. Some time next day
he would be blowing out the beggar's
brains.
He gathered up his few tools and
started away. But he had gone only
a few yards when it occurred to him to
return. He remembered once how a
bear had come, pulled the bait from
the stick, and left the trap unsprung.
Perhaps the bait had better be looked
to. He flung his right leg over the
one log that formed the sill of the en-
trance to the dead-fall, and began to
secure the bait. He had almost flnish-
ed — was, indeed, drawing himself out
— when, oh, horror 1 the giant trap
sprang.
For an instant Paul was stunned, but
it was for a second only. Like a flash,
and with a rush, there came to the
habitant a sense of the awfulness of
his situation. Close on this followed
the sharp, stinging pain from the bones
of his right arm and leg. His body
had been outside the trap, and he had
thus escaped instant and awful death.
But he was pinned as in the jaws of a
vice of steel. The log that supported
half-a-dozen others crossed his leg be-
tween the ankle and the knee, and his
arm between the elbow and shoulder.
For some moments Paul made no
attempt to free himself. He had been
caught face downward, and to attempt
to move, he knew, was useless. But
his thoughts were not bound. They
flashed back, then forward. Back to
the small home away over the woods
and the heath ; then forward to the
awful future. Had he battled through
life this far, to end all thus? Was
this his desert? He was miles in the
woods. The trap was massively strong.
Hate, revenge and hope of gain had
mixed to make it so ; and now of
a sudden everything had recoiled.
With this thought came another, the
most horrible yet. What if the bear
should come now ! The trap was ia
its track. A few minutes ago, he was
hoping — he was sure — it would return
by this way. He knew it had done so
before. But now — oh, if it should come
now ! Paul felt his arm and leg begin
to numb and his face to burn. He put
his free hand to the ground, and push-
ed himself up as far as he could. It
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PAUL POIRIEKS BEAR-TRAP
.67
was not far, but the little liberty he
had encouraged him. He felt his heart,
which had stood still for a moment or
two, thump strong'ly under his coat.
Then the blood came warmly into his
veins. With it came his resolution not
to despair. It was cowardly to give
up : he would not — not without a
struggle, anyway. He put the gloomy
thought away. He would free him*
self.
The axe with which he had worked
was, alas 1 beyond his reach. He had
put it down a few feet away as he had
come back to the trap. He could have
used it some with his free hand. His
gun was nearer. With his left teg he
drew it carefully towards him. It might
be of great service, he thought. He
felt for his strong pocket knife, and
found it With the thought of the
knife had come another thin ray of hope.
It would be of service in case the gun
should fail His most awful fear was
that of the return of the bear. And
then, too, perhaps, but only perhaps,
he might be able to cut away the one
\q^ that would give him freedom.
He braced and nerved himself for
one great test of strength befor^ he
should begin. With his free arm and
1^ firmly on the ground, and his body
pressed close to the log above, he push-
ed and strained till his muscles stood
out hard, and the blood seemed ready
to burst from his face. But nothing
gaveormoved. The pains came sharply
again as he relaxed his efforts. He
sank with a groan and remained for a
moment with his hot face on the cold
ground.
It was with great difficulty he opened
the knife and began. It was a monster
task — a three-inch blade and a ten-inch
1(^ — but hope and fear make men at*
tempt wondrous things. His position,
too, was such that the knife could be
used only to the poorest advantage.
Slowly, however, and bravely with the
pain of the crushed bones shooting
through him, he began his slow deliv-
erance— or rather what he hoped would
end in that.
Now and then he stopped and glanc-
ed off among the trees. The slanting
beams of sunlight through them had
become almost horizontal. It was
coming on night. Was there anyone
watching the sun draw down to the
woods over the heath — he knew how it
set from home — and expecting him ?
Would he be free before it again lit all
the tops around, or would he — but he
refused to think more. He turned
again to his work.
But the difficulty of reaching the log
where it must be cut tired his arm and
made steady work impossible. Once ai,
he rested he took some of the food from
the pouch he had luckily not taken
from his back and ate it. He was sur-
prised to see how little there was. He
had eaten more before than he had
thought.
What he left had been carefully put
aside, when a slight noise among the
leaves startled him. A small, red,
bushy squirrel was taking jerky leaps
towards him ; but as Paul moved his
head it turned and suddenly raced al-
most to the top of a giant fir, pouring
out as it went a torrent of indignation at
the invasion of its exclusive territory.
A moment later a woodpecker drummed
vigorously on a hollow beech, then
swooped down and off with a cry. A
stray crow or two circled and cawed
excitedly up above.
By and by sounds like these became
less and less frequent. A cool sir
drew down through the forest heavy
with chilling damp. Then the night
began to settle quietly.
Paul turned again to his task ; as he
did so the hopelessness of It came to
him as never before. He had done
little or nothing, but of a sudden he
hit upon something else. Indeed,
several suggestions came to him at
once. He had matches ; could he not
burn a part of the trap? He had a
little powder and a few bullets ; could
he not shoot or blow one of the logs
away? He brightened at the thought;
then of his many plans he attempted
to fix upon the best.
First he thought of setting fire, but
this to be effective would have to be
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i68
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
done under the log that held him, and
between his teg and arm. He gathered
what brush and chips he could reach
and placed them in position. Then he
hesitated. What if the brush in parts
beyond his reach caught, and from
that some of the dryer wood? The log
that held him was green and would
burn last. The trap was a camp, and
small though it was, if it burned at all,
would burn fiercely.
Paul held the match in readiness for
a time, but he did not strike it To
die by fire I What could be worse than
that? He must try something else.
He imagined that by squeezing his
leather powder bag between the logs
that held him, and then igniting it, the
cruel jaws that held him might be
wrenched apart. His heart bounded
when this thought first came, but it
sank away, and the blood came cold
again in his veins when he reasoned a
moment.
He now turned his attention to his
gun. It occurred to him that he might
be able to deepen the notch he had al-
ready made in the log with his knife.
He knew from the distance his gun
carried that it would send a bullet
through, or well into, the log above
him. He attempted to bring the gun's
muzzle to the place where the bullet
would be most effective. It was not
till then that he realized that to hold
and fire the gun would be almost im-
possible, held as he was, in the trap.
But after a time he found that this
could be done.
The gun was a long-barrelled old-
ifashioned rifle. He had only one free
hand, and with that he must hold the
muzzle a little distance from and below
the bottom of the notch.
How, though, was the trigger to be
reached in order that the gun might be
discharged ?
The solution of this difficulty came
by accident In one of his movements
he noticed he could reach to the lock of
the gun with his foot. It came to him
of a sudden, he could strip his foot and
discharge the gun with his toe. He
worked his boot off with difficulty, then
brought the muzzle almost to the log.
He placed his toe on the trigger and
prepared to push it. But he again
hesitated. He could fire the gun, but
could he re-foad it?
He had looked upon the gun as his
chief defence in case the bear should
return. This thought — the worst of
all — though he put it away, was ever
before him. He must not run the
awful risk of being unprepared for
that. He pushed the gun from him
with a groan. Then his head sank
to the cold moist ground. None of his
plans — and he felt that any of them
might free him — dare be worked. This
was what undid him. It was the cruel
irony of it all that came home to him
now, as never t^efore.
He lay for sometime breathing hard
against the ground. Before, he had
put the awfulness of his situation away
from him, but that was no longer pos-
sible. It was now dark. He had only
a little food. The slightest movement
on his part and there shot through him
the most stinging pains. The chill
wa^ giving way to cold, for it was still
early May. In addition to all these,
there were the things behind and be-
fore— the things he must leave and the
things he must meet. There were the
little home and the children, and by
this time the expectant anxious wife ;
that behind, then before him — oh, hor-
ror ! before him, what? to be torn by
the bear that might now come any
moment ? to die of the flaming thirst
within him, or, after long-drawn out
days of suft'ering,from pain and hunger?
This was the future. Hope, that had
helped before, was gone. He stared
it all stolidly in the face ; it was too
horrible — far. His breath came short
and dry. Pain from his crushed limbs
swept his nerves and iced his blood.
He was on the edge of madness.
Quivering in a tempest of paio,
he raised his head. Then, he pushed
his weak arm into the dark. His
hand found the rifle's cold muzzle.
There was one plan still, by which he
might be free. The future, no matter
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THE SPIRE OF ST. IGNA TIUS
.69
what it held, must be preferable to the
present He drew the gfun's muzzle to
within a hand-breadth of his brain.
Then he fumbled with his foot for the
lock. At the moment he found it a
single blue star blinked through the
tops and caught his eye.
It was the next morning. The sun,
from the edge of the east, was firing
the big spruce and hemlock tops into
flaming gold. A woman was hurrying
along a trail underneath. A presenti-
ment of evil had hunted her from
home. The morning was cold, but
the woman's face was flaming warm.
She had come, in a moment, into view
of something that wrenched from her a
scream of horror. She sprang forward
as one wild. Her strength became as
the strength of ten. In a moment
more she was kneeling low over her
unconscious, but still living, husband.
Frank Bain/. .
THE SPIRE OF ST. IGNATIUS.
" Our lar^st bope is unrullilled.
The proDuse still oulruas the deed,
Tbe tower but not the spire we build."
— Oliver Wendell Holmes.
'"I'^HE beautiful church of grey stone
-'- was fast approaching completion.
For long and weary months the ma-
sons and carpenters had been at work
on the grand building being erected by
the good sisters of Notre Dame de
Victoire.
"The builders' perfect and centennial flower...
But wanting still the glory of the spire."
That was alt it needed, the one last
touch without which it lacked every-
thing. Its outline could be distin-
guished under the rough scaffolding on
which Pierre Duval was standing. .
In a day or two at most, he thought,
the work of his hands would tower
heavenwards; then the great gilt cross
would be raised to the lofty spire and
the church of St. Ignatius would be
the perfect monument of Christian zeal
and love it was intended to be.
The Angelus rang from the neigh-
bouring convent. It had got too dark
to work some time since, but as a
painter is loth to leave his masterpiece
for the night, and stands longing for
an hour more of daylight, so Duval
waited till the last possible moment
before descending.
As he reached the ground he almost
stumbled over a huge heap of stone, on
which had resounded all day the echo-
ing blow of a hammer wielded by a
strong arm. The young workman,
Moise Lafortune, who had toiled all
day in the cold November wind, had
gone home a little while before, a
cherry whistle on his lips and gladness
Duval smothered an oath as he re-
covered his balance. Up there in the
blue of the sky he had forgotten La-
fortune, forgotten Leonie, forgotten
himself. Absorbed in his work, the
tap, tap of the hammer far below had
been merged in the sounds he himself
was making, hut now an evil spirit
rose in his heart. Only to think that
Lafortune, a miserable stone-breaker,
glad of the money he earned by the
sweat of his brow, with no hope for
any other than daily bread, to think
that he should be Leonie's choice filled
the unhappy Pierre with revengeful
fury.
He stared moodily at the heap of
broken stone till the gathering dark-
ness enveloped him, and he went home.
The night wore on, the moon sailed
serenely in the heavens, looking down
placidly on hidden spire and heap of
broken stone alike.
Duval was at his work earlier than
the stone-breaker. It called to him,
and he was filled with a consuming
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
unrest. Sweet Mother SL A^es
glanced out soon after dawn and saw
a fi^re, dark against the wooden scaf-
folding.
" The beautiful church, the beauti-
ful church," she whispered to herself
ecstatically. She could see in her
mind's eye the glorious tapering spire.
How the rising sun would dart its shaft
of fire upon the plates of copper gird-
ing it round ! How would the sunset
emblazon with living flame, and dazzle
with its glittering glory, the crown and
summit of all I And inside the flute-
like voice of Mother St. Ignatius Loy-
ola would soar on wings of song to the
very gates of heaven.
Mother St Agnes gave a little sigh.
She had no voice to give to the church,
but her williog hands embroidered the
exquisite altar cloths and vestments
for the priests, and she was satisfied
after all. Her work was as the work
of Lafortune. And he, too, was satis-
fied, though from a different cause.
He saw the workmen on the spire,
and thought with a thrill of joy min-
gled with pity, that Duval had lost,
and he, poor Lafortune, had won. He
thought of the great church witnessing
and blessing the first marriage held
within its sacred walls, where Leonie
was the fairest of all that should fol-
low in her train, demure in simple
white, as she had looked at her first
communion, only far, far prettier.
Set to the tune of happy thoughts
work goes lightly and swiftly, and the
cur^ had promised that Lafortune
should be the verger of St Ignatius —
and then Leonie would be his.
He happened to glance up suddenly
to the roof of the church and saw Du-
val making preparations for lighting
the tioy stove which was set on the
platform of the scaffold, on which to
cook a warm dinner. It must be near-
ly twelve then. How the morning had
flown !
Lafortune sat down on the bag he
used for kneeling on while at work,
and drew out a hunch of bread which
he attacked as only a hungry man can.
It was enough for him ; Duval prob-
ably found it cold up there, and he had
»n ban estomac anyway, Pierre Duval
had.
His hammer thrown aside, his eyes
on the little hamlet of Notre Dame,
Lafortune enjoyed his noonday meal
and rest. His back was turned to the
church; he seldom glanced at the work-
er far above him, but on a sudden there
was a fearful cry. It seemed to start
in the sky and resound on all sides ;
the air was filled with the horror of it.
It struck the walls of the convent and
Mother St. Agnes, looking out from
the quiet refectory, saw a streak of
flame shoot out a narrow tongue far
up on the framework round the spire ;
saw a frantic man striving to stamp
out the embers from his overturned
stove, and saw no more, for with the
cry of " L'Egtisef au secours! " she
slid to the ground in a dead faint.
Moise echoed that first piercing cry;
but he too could only stand aud watch,
held by a fearful fascination, while the
tongue of fire became a cloud of flame
and smoke. He did not know it, but
he was shouting with all his might,
" Duval, descendet, dexendem !"
The latter was in a very dangerous
position, but in his frenzied efforts to
stamp out the fire had up to this time
been oblivious of his own danger. His
one thought was that the church must
not be burnt
Agreat crowd of people, the nuns and
whole population of Notre Dame, were
gathered alt round the edifice. Lafor-
tune rushed up to Leonie, whose pink
dress caught his eye in his distress —
"Tell Duval to come down. Quick,
he will come for you 1" and obedient,
she darted forward, pushing her way
through the jostling throng.
Up to this time the hoarse shouts ot
the priests, the shrieks of the sisters
warning Pierre of his danger, were ap-
parently unheard by him. The crowd
had been on the spot almost on the in-
stant of the catastrophe, but he had
paid no attention to their shouts in
the hope of stamping out the flames.
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THE SPIRE OF ST. IGNATIUS
But now one voice thrilled through and
through him, a girl's voice, full of ag-
onized entreaty.
"Pierre, mon Pierre, descendeM, de-
scendcB ! " — When would he not have
have listened to her ? Indeed, he saw
he had not an instant to lose. The plat-
form on which he stood would be a
mass of flames in a moment.
The hot breath of the fiery furnace
scorched him ; his hands and feet were
blistered as he broke through the ring
of fire and stepped down the rounds of
the ladders. " Pierre, mon Pierre !"
the cry still rang in his ears. His eyes
were blinded and bloodshot, and he
could not see the triumph of the migh-
ty victor. Exulting in its power, it de-
fied the streams of water brought to
play upon it by the engines from the
neighbouring city. The flames roared
and played around the windows, and
great volumes of smoke belched forth
into the cool November air.
Leonie ran to Duval as he staggered
to the ground.
"Look, look, the spire I" she said
a few moments later.
With a groan he watched it, Au
spire, more beautiful than when it
pointed serenely to the skies, wreathed
round with orange flame, a grand
though lurid spectacle — totter and sway
and fall with one huge crash — and the
singing flames shoot higher in the hea-
vens in its place.
He covered his eyes with his hand as
she gently drew him away.
" Never mind the church," he said,
as he saw her look at the once magni-
ficent building — "When I forgot it
and came down foz you, surety you will
forget it for a moment and think of
me. Did you mean it when you
saved my life, and called me 'Mon
Pierre ? ' "
He gripped her arm fiercely. Her
timid eyes were wide with terror and
distress ; she was afraid of this rough
wooer. " No, no," she cried, " I
didn't know what I said. I love Moise,
only Moise."
He pushed her from him violently,
and ran with all his speed to the blaz-
ing church. He was about to rush in-
side when strong arms seized him.
" Let me go, let me go," he shout-
ed, struggling. " Let me die with my
spire and my love."
But he was crazed, of course, they
all knew, and they knelt on him and
bound him till, when church and spire
were a mass of ruins, merciful uncon-
sciousness caused the gleaming light
that danced mockingly in his eyes to
melt within a sea of peace.
Florence Hamilton Randal.
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS.
A TALE OF RURAL ONTARIO LIFE.
By Erie Cromer,
IV.-THE HUSKING BBE.
MINERVA FALCONER'S gospel
was Falconer. There were but
three of the name in Mums, and she
thought as much of the other two as
of herself. Given her choice, she had
rather been the mother of two sons
than of one son and one daughter.
Having but one son she loved him with
all the heart God had given her, and
Minerva Falconer was a woman of
strong passions. But she had a mas-
culine grip on her heartstrings, which
the majority mistook for stoicism.
They called her. a diplomat, and re-
garded her not without fear. She was
the uncrowned queen of Mums. But
she loved her only son better than all
the rest of her subjects together. Ever
since the death of the elder Falconer,
good easy man, she had pondered
nothing so deeply as Peart's success
in life ; and to Minerva Falconer suc-
cess meant opportunity. The supreme
opportunityat present was Caleb Tooze.
Caleb was as useful to Mums as the
knot on an oak ; and in Minerva's
philosophy about as tough. The little
mummy I How could his heart beat
so J on and on; when to judge from
his face it was clear out of the world's
great tune ?
Patience, Minerva.
Vet all that patience, and the mis-
taken love from which it came, Peart
Falconer stood ready to circumvent by
a single stroke of crime the night he
entered Caleb Tooze's cabin. Passion
rather than premeditation had goaded
him on. Passion — for the pure moral
personality of that girl — also held him
back. The struggle drove him out of
the hut. From that moment crime
and Pensee Vale fought for his moral-
ity. This way he gravitated ; that
way he aspired. And the widow Fal-
coner discerned it not.
Mums soon kaleidoscoped into its
last grand pattern before snowfall.
Strawstacks grew up yellow and
straight as pyramids over the black
barn-peaks and settled lopsided to the
weather ; corn crawled into shocks
along the bush-edge ; the early wheat-
fields coaxed the green out of the trees;
the woods got battlefields in their tops
and began to smoke ; and the black-
birds at early morning swore like fish-
wives at the white frost that blacked
the pumpkin-vines.
Falconers were the last to thresh.
By a curious principle of mathematics
that had never once been subverted in
fifteen years, they had half as much
wheat and twice as much chess and
ragweed seeds off two farms as Mosses
had off one. Minerva could have
fought Rudge Moss and all his family
connections for that. Peart didn't
care. A chattel mortgage on the
horses and cattle would pay the taxes.
Perhaps the crop would make up the
rent to Caleb Tooze. He scrabbled in
a patch of wheat ; then he took to
driving in his top-buggy behind his
favourite team of iron-grays ; nowhere
in particular ; just out of Mums, some-
times atone, sometimes with Rudge
Moss on a Sunday ; often past the
school, and not seldom a good deal
faster than seemed compatible wiih the
state of the roads. He had corn to
husk and hogs that would have been
glad of the job. But he let the coons
and squirrels fatten on it, while the
hogs squealed gaunt about the straw-
stack. It didn't matter to him that
Mosses had their hogs in pen, already
too fat to run. It did to Minerva. She
liked contrasts too ; but not that kind.
17a
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS
•73
Despairing at length of getting the
h(^s up before Christmas, Minerva de-
cided upon a husking-bee. Peart went
so far as to ask the hands. He also
picked up a waggon-load of windfall
apples which he took to the cider-
mill.
The day came. Most of the neigh-
bours went (o the bee ; the Mosses,
every one : Reuben, red-whiskered, in
a bleached smock the colour of a po-
tato-peel ; Sylvia, his wife, pale, blue-
printed and peaked, with a voice tike a
sleigh on frozen snow ; Rudge, big,
red-faced and lumbering, ready to husk
with Peart Falconer against any two in
the crowd.
Not a bare twig or a dead leaf rustled
in the black woods along the slashing.
Caleb Tooze's shanty-smoke curled a
clear blue gimlet towards the grey cloud
that hung as quiet as the sl^ over
everything visible. But long before
noon all the breezes in Ontario seemed
to blow in the keg-burs, pig-weeds and
Canada thistles in that front field of
Caleb Tooze's — "the widow's weeds "
somebody technically called them.
They got a scuttling that day ; all but
an hour at noon, when a pack of crows
on the grand tour dropped in there and
sneered a lot of things about the green-
horns at dinner up at the big house who
didn't know enough to set the fodder-
shocks over the corn -heaps. Then
when bent old Caleb hobbled out of the
shanty yelling " Sh — ooh !" and wav-
ing his stick up and down, they laugh-
ed sardonically and got heavily up to go
south again.
Caleb watched the field after that.
There was no dinner that day in the
shanty. Minerva had told him the day
before to follow the men when noon
came. He didn't want to.
Nobody in all that crowd of huskers
that afternoon noticed Caleb Tooze's
window-blinds drop except Peart Fal-
coner. Even he could only surmise
that the old man had locked the door,
though for what purpose he couldn't
say.
It didn't matter. Caleb had pried
up the loose puncheon near the bed
often enough before. It took him
longer than usual to get it back that
day. Afterwards he lit his lamp and
performed some very curious but quite
bachelor-like operations on the waist
of his trousers with a needle and thread.
When he had finished, he blew out the
light, raised the blinds and unlocked
the door. Standing at the window he
could see a red figure drift along the
wild grape-vines at the road-fence, past
the huskers. He watched it with quiv-
ering lip. It was Pensee Vale on her
way to Falconers' for supper.
The yellow ears flew like grasshop-
pers then. Right where Rudge and
Peart husked at the same shock there
was one in the air all the time. Rudge
had the whole bee in his blood that
day. Some of the old fellows rustled
along like summer breezes, talking as
much as they husked, about the top on
the wheat, the fall fair, Caleb Tooze
and Pensee Vale. Caleb might have
been a mummy and Pensee a fairy for
all Rudge cared just then. He did all
his talking with his fingers ; couldn't
hear the racket the others made for
listening to his own ; didn't see a bit
more of Peart all the afternoon than
the swift pair of hands that clicked off
the ears about three to his two, and
nine times out of ten hooked in the
last bunch of stalks from the middle,
leaving him to set up the fodder with a
clump ! clump ! clump I and a whooshi
double-quick into the shock, elm-bark
j'grg'ngr at fi's belt. Then he grabbed
his sickle out of the weeds and plung-
ed to the next corn-shock, shook it by
the collar once, downed it and cut off
its feet. Collie was always on the
spot as much absorbed as his master.
He always followed Rudge to the bees.
Never a log in Rudge's gang at a log-
ging that got "snaked" into a heap
but he bad to chew the rear end till it
stopped. Never a shock Rudge tore
down at a husking, but he had to
be under when it fell. If he got the
mouse he bolted it alive. If he didn't
he scratched and snuffed a hole under
the nearest stump big enough to hold
all but his stub tail till the next shock
came down. And the stub tail wiggled
till it did.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
It was getting dusk when Caleb
Tooze began to carry in his night- wood.
Rudge and Peart were four shocks
from the slashing then. Peart whoop-
ed. Half-a-dozen whooped back in as
many different keys, and half a score
of others ran to set up the down fod-
der-bundles. It was time to quit.
But Rudge wanted to husk through.
Peart laughed and struck off along
with the other buskers. Tbe fat fod-
der-shocks had white tags on then :
tbe corn glimmered faintly in gold
splotches among the weeds. Out at
the road the huskers could bear Rudge
rustling away among the stalks over
by tbe slashing. Some of them fol-
lowed Peart up the road ; the rest went
home.
Rudge was just fiaisbing tbe last
shock when Caleb Tooze came out of
his sbanty and hobbled along the head-
land. Caleb liked to talk to Rudge.
" Huh I" he squeaked, as he began
to throw the scattered ears up on the
pile, "nice way to farm, fatt'n coons
an' squir'ls, an' lett'n hogs turn to saw-
horses. Nervy's had this place fifteen
year an' nev' had a crop yit good nuf
fer a wild Injun. Toted all the straw
off an' nev' fetched a load o' manoor
back on, that's what she's did. She's
a wise gat, Nervy is, but there baint
one o' tbe family knows how to farm.
Had corn een this side ten year hand-
runnin', an' nev' had nuthin' but keg-
burs yit. Dang poor crop it is, and a
dang poor lot o' busters some o' them
fellers is, too, or they'd a' got done,
'pears to me anyway."
" Days haint so long as they wus in
hayin' or we would a'," responded
Rudge, as he pulled the last bunch of
stocks up on his lap.
" Be a long hust an' a short hop
then," drily observed Caleb. Say — "
The old man screwed the point of his
stick into Rudge 's bootleg. Leaning
over so, be looked like a fossilized bird
just come to life. Rudge stopped
husking. Caleb's voice sank into a
hoarse whisper as though he half feared
somebody besides Rudge might hear
him. But there wasn't even a katydid
in the busb now.
" An' there'll be things said 'fore the
dance is done it'll take more'n a hust-
io' bee to rub out Hee ! Hee !"
Deliriously plucking at his trousers-
belt the old man hobbled away and
entered the but.
v.— THE DANCE.
The dance that night was bigger
than the bee. Falconer's stables were
full So was the yard. So was tbe
big house.
It was Pensee Vale's first dance at
Mums ; almost her first visit to Fal-
coner's or anywhere in Mums, except
the shanty of Caleb Tooze. She might
not have gone to that but for the
widow's sweeping visit to the school in
company with Molly the day before.
Pensee didn't hate society. Oblivious
of its claims upon her she simply
shrank from it, never dreaming that
to be a recluse at Mums was equivalent
to high treason ; or that of all the
rollicking crowd that pounded the big
square bouse into festivity that autumn
night after the husking-bee she was the
focus. Near her prim white collar she
wore a pale yellow flower, the only
wild thing that suited her along the
road from school, ft tried to wilt into
her dress before the first dance was
done. The cause may have been the
severely benign aspect of the widow
who certainly regarded Pensee with
more than half an eye ; or the simper-
ing scrutiny of Molly who, with a flang-
ing green bow under one side of her
pudding cbin, was in a nervous chill of
imitation ; or the burly looks of Rudge
Moss who couldn't keep Molly long;
enough away from his homespun, cellu-
loid and red face to ask Pensee for a
dance. Rudge had lived ten months
under the same roof with Pensee with-
out so much as a walk or a buggy-ride
with her alone. He dimly realized
now that he might be just as well ac-
quainted with her ten years hence unless
he should make bold to dance with her
that night. It was getting to be the
joke of the section.
Peart Falconer also watched Peasee
Vale. For the first time since tbe
night he had tried to rob Caleb Tooze
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS
175
and couldn't because of the thought of
her, she was under his mother's roof.
It seemed to him she brushed the
people with wiogs. He scoroed them
all ia t:ompart500, aad himself most of
all.
The second waltz in the long parlour
was done and the Rddle just howling
through its preliminaries for the Devil's
Dream when Peasee and Peart passed
out through the crowded kitchen. The
cider-barrel stood on a big^ maple
block near the pump, right in the glare
of the window.
Peart rinsed Uie tin dipper at the
pump and tapped Pensee a drink.
" It's everybody's mug," he said
tersely ; " I'd get you a glass, but
you'd call me a fool for my ptUDS."
Peasee laughed low as she took it
" True courtesy makes nobody a
fool," she said gently.
" I'll get you the glass," he said
quickly. "Pardon me."
"Not so," she replied smiling. "You
have proved your courtesy. I must
Dot spoil mine. I am not too good to
drink after others. Indeed, we are all
one I think, if we love one another.
Shall we drink to that, each a half P "
She offered him the dipper.
Peart turned aside. "I quite for*
got," he said crisply, "you believe in
charity by the rule of three and love
by the grammar. You are a school-
teacher."
Something in the tone caused Pensee
to recoil. She set the dipper down
without drinking.
" Nothing more?" she asked piquant'
ly as she reclined on the maple-block
and laid her arm on the barrel. "Well
I'm sure if I am only a school-teacher,
I try to love people."
" All the world's a school you mean,"
he suggested.
" It ought to be," she replied quickly.
" Would be if we'd all try to learn."
" Not so far from my good mother's
philosophy either," he observed half to
himself. "She believes Mums is a
nursery."
" Your mother ij a good woman,
Mr. Falconer," said Pensee warmly.
" She's kind. If she wasn't, there's an
old man 1 know who wouldn't have
much joy In life."
" Kind enough," was the equivocal
rejoinder. " And if I know my bring-
ing-up, one of that kind is enough for
Mums too."
"Is Mums so very unkind, then ? "
asked Pensee innocently. " It hasn't
been so to me. "
" It isn't the fashion," he said ab-
ruptly. ' ' But a turn of the hair might
make it so. You're the school-teacher,
you know. "
"And I'm very much afraid you're
the cynic," rejoined Pensee, laughing-
ly, as she sprang up. "Mr. Falconer,"
she added seriously, laying her hand on
his arm, "you mustn't speak lightly
about your home or your country, as
you sometimes do, I'm afraid. You
should love both as youdoyour own life,
and if necessary fight to defend the
honour of both."
Peart looked down into the pale
child-face, tit with its deep eyes. She
was so simple, so eloquent ; in purity
of innocence a child, in thought a wo-
man. All the intelligence he possessed
took a thrill from her words : not the
sense-rapture of the dance, but some-
thing more vital that leads a man to
the heroism of character.
" Miss Vale," he said, in low, delib-
erate tone, " if my home and my
country could speak to me as you
have done, my life could have no place
beside the honour of both." '
With that hand on his arm, that
face looking up into his, and the echo
of those words in his ears, Peart Fal-
coner seemed just then to be in another
world, far above Mums and memory,
of which Pensee Vale in her moral
purity was the spirit
The night seemed to slumber on the
big maples, that never moved in the
still air. The fiddle in the parlour
sounded like a mouse playing with a
rat. The kitchen windows rattled and
the old parlour floor thumped so loud
that'the fiddler had to call off like an
auctioneer. The cattle were sleeping
round the stack now. The hogs, piled
heads and tails two deep ia the big
hole by the barn door, where the cows
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
had chewed out the chaff, woke up
now and then, drowsily squabbled and
went to sleep ag'ain.
Supper was expected soon in the
kitchen. Sylvia Moss was just giving
the last stroke to the big table, with
Rudge and Molly at her elbow. Min-
erva was over at Caleb Tooze's to get
the old man. All the boys that were not
dancing crowded in one corner of the
kitchen, making hungry comments on
the bill of fare and incidentally chaffing
Molly, who was so absorbed in second-
ing Rudge's motions that she put three
pumpkin-pies at one end of the table
and two bowls of cider-sauce at the
other.
Suddenly the door opened, and out
came Rudge with Molly on his arm.
Pensee started as if cut by a whip,
and sprang round the comer of the
house at the back. Peart backed on
to the lawn and round by the front.
Neither was noticed by Rudge and
Molly, who made straight for the cider
barrel.
"George I " shouted Rudge, as he
grabbed the dipper, "here's somebody's
drink too many, I guess. Want it,
Moll?"
" Well, you got a pile of eddikit,
ain't you ? " retorted Molly indignantly.
" Awright," said Rudge, briskly,
"there's lots more," and gulped the
dipper empty.
" Well, I think you might 'a' giv
a fella a taste, anyhow," said Molly
gingerly. " You ain't poison. I'm as
dry as a fish."
" So be i. Lemme hoi' the dipper,
Moll. You pult the buog. I'll say
when. Steady now."
Molly pulled. The cider flew ; ran
over on to Rudge's flne boots ; spat-
tered Molly's skirt. Rudge yelled.
No use. Molly couldn't get the bung
back, and Rudge had to stick his big
thumb in the vent to keep the cider
out of the well.
Molly tittered as she gave him the
plug and took the dipper.
"Rudge — "she said, and sipped.
"Well," responded Rudge, looking
at his wet boots in the window glare.
"Pretty good cider, ain't it, Moll ?"
" Mb — mh 1 " sipping again.
"Rudge — " Another sip. This time
Molly choked.
Rudge began to whack her on the
back. "Jiminyl" he said. "Guess
you must 'a got the stick in your
throat didn't you ?"
" Rudge — " gasped Molly.
" Ya — as, say it agin an' say it
slow," answered Rudge.
" I think, Rudge," tittering again
and threatening to choke, "you'd
oughta let m« say when."
A crowd of boys and girls came
jostling out. Rudge and Molly got
mixed up among them somewhere.
The cider barrel gurgled away pretty
freely after that. By the time Rudge
and Molly were through scuffling it had
lock-jaw. The boys had to tip it then;
and when it finally refused to say
another word they sent it blundering
off the block and started to play tag
with it on the lawn.
Up the lane under the maples came
the widow Falconer. Caleb Tooze
hunched over his stick at her sw.rling
skirts.
Minerva jabbered to him likean'owl.
Caleb squeaked in reply as he got up
on the stoop ; something about its
being the first time in fifteen years at
that time of the night. The boys gave
the cider barrel its final hoist into the
currant bushes and followed in. Sup-
per was called. The fiddle stopped
scraping. Chairs began to rattle be-
fore the windows stopped. The par-
lour and front hall got suddenly empty;
the kitchen as quickly full. All who
couldn't sandwich themselves round
the huge table galleried up three deep
along the walls, round the stove, in
the doorway, looking on. Caleb
Tooze sat humped under the dish-
towels next the woodbox. The widow
had intended that the old man should
sit at the first table. Caleb didn't
care. He watched Minerva as she per-
formed dead marches about the table
finding empty cups. Molly followed
with the teapot, fervently thanking all
her stars at once that Rudge Moss had
not taken Pensee to supper. Molty
always got to the other side of the
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS
177
table by passing Rudge at one end.
Nine times out of ten it was the long-
est way round and the shortest way
home. Once as she dawdled past,
Rudge leaned out of the crowd and
grabbed her by the arm.
"Say," he whispered, "where the
doose is Pensee ? "
" Molly I Two cups here. Hurry
now." It was the widow's deep voice
above all the din. Molly went As
she poured the tea the widow spoke
into her ear. " Molly, where's Pearty
an' Pensee ? "
Molly could have emptied the tea-
leaves on the floor. I'm not Pensee
Vale's shadda," she said as she flounc-
ed round to fill the teapot again.
Half way to the stove peaked Mrs.
Moss, just easing a new "punkia-pie"
down over somebody's head, asked her
mysteriously about Pensee. Molly said,
"Aw you sillyl " and tossed her head.
Then when she got to the stove the
first thing she felt was Caleb Tooze's
stick bored into her ankle. Caleb's
smoked herring face peered out from
under the dish-towels. " Say," he
squeaked," yuh hain't seen the school-
ma'am anywheres, hev yuhP "
"Oh darn the school-ma'am !" snap-
ped Molly as she clapped the lid on the
teapot. She filled every cup she came
to after that ; saucer too.
VI.-BAPPLED SCHEMERS.
Not a dead leaf quivered. The
glimmering quinces breathed wantonly
on the tepid air, heavy, aromatic, their
last smouldering incense before the
frost. The house-lights flushed faintly
on the low brown tops near the lawn.
Down by the road it was dark.
"There's my band, then — if you
must. But 'tis neither my face nor
my heart."
The voice was tremulous as if from
tears. But a moment before Peart Fal-
coner had intercepted Pensee just cut-
ting through the quince orchard on her
way to the hand-gate in the comer.
He had offered to drive her home. She
had refused.
It was a white hand she reached
through the shadow of the i>dorous
quince shrubs. Peart Falconer gripped
it tensely. She couldn't see the marks
of passion on his face. Her own was
but a gleam.
" Tell me this," he said in low, quick
tones, " why did you dance with me in
that woman's house?"
"the almost savage abruptness of his
manner startled Pensee. Her hand
twitched.
"Surely — I must not make confessor
of you." The words were as much
fearful as indignant. Pensee was a
child ; apt to surrender herself to others
io matters of right and wrong. The
passion of this man struck her with
almost the force of law, or she had
never given him her hand to say good-
night in the quince orchard.
" In Rome as Romans do," he went
on regardless. " Among tights and a
crowd a man's arm at your waist is no-
thing. To be seen alone with a man
in the dark makes even talking a sin.
Yet you have a heart. Much it cares
whether a man fights the crime in his
blood for the sake of it. Pensee 1 "
His hand tightened on hers. The
subdued irony went out of his tone.
He spoke her name passionately.
" Sh ! " she said, trembling like a
child, "don't talk so of wrong when
you know the right. You read books
and think, far more than I who try to
teach right to children. God forgive
me if they go wrong at my example."
" Pensee, Pensee, — you child ! You
have the passion in those eyes if you'd
let them burn. But you prate about
children, and books and schools, when
all the woman in you goes starving.
For heaven's sake don't be a prude I "
" Now you're scolding me," she said
with a tremor, "all because I'm a
weak girl that can't say wise things
about woman in my own defence, and
eloquent things about my country and
all that. Oh dear I but I can love the
children and in my humble way try to
help them. I must not, will not give
so much as a shadow of my life to
any other. Mr. Falconer, let me say
good- night.
" Then my life is nothing to you I "
he said as he dropped her hand.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
"Not more than my own," she
answered quickly. " Myself is my
sacred privilege. You have do right
to meddle with it."
"And that self will kill you," he
said passionately. "For so sure as
you refuse to love, being a woman you
are a cheat. You can see a man
struggle and go down before your very
eyes when the light of them and no-
thing else would save him. Pensee
Vale, 1 choose to love the woman for
whose sake I dare to do right. Dare
you refuse?"
Doggedly he spoke and folded his
arms. Pensee shrank away into the
shadow of the quince shrubs.
" Dare the right for the sake of it-
self: so shall you win the respect of
every true woman. Mr. Falconer, good-
night."
It was like the sudden shiver of a
breeze in the dead leaves. Softly the
swish of hef skirts over the long dry
grass fainted among the bhrubs. The
gate clicked. Her white face gleamed
a moment through the branches. She
passed out.
Down by Caleb Tooze's bridge Pen-
see paused. There was a low, swift
rumble in the rear, the clatter of gallop-
ing hoofs and the rattle of wheels. It
was Peart Falconer driving his iron-
grays. Pensee listened till she could
hear nothing but a faint clippering far
back on the Canada Company side- road
somewhere ; then mth a little sob she
hurried on.
Mile upon mile Peart Falconer urged
his iron-grays that autumn night. He
let them choose the road ; they took
the stump concession as often as the
smooth turnpike. It mattered not to
At last they got on to the side-road
that led out past the drab school and
white church. As they turned the jog
at Mosses', Rudge's huge shadow was
just taking off its collar and tie on the
blind at the end of the log house up-
stairs.
But there was no light west from
Caleb Tooze's shanty back at the slash-
ing. Peart stopped his horses when
he came to the bridge. For the first
time in years the old bachelor miser
was out of his cabin for the night.
Minerva Falconer had done it. For
what a purpose Peart Falconer well
knew as he waited at that bridge be-
hind his steaming grays and let his
right hand tighten on its line. Not
robbery ! Minerva Falconer would as
soon have lost both her children.
Merely to satisfy her curiosity^-over
the will I That must be either on
Caleb Tooze's person or in the hut. If
the latter it would take more beguile-
ment than a fat supper to induce him
to leave it. If the former it should not
be hard to get at it with Caleb asleep
in the attic over the kitchen.
After the dancers were gone that
night the widow Falconer sat by her
kitchen stove and waited. Caleb was
asleep. She knew that, for she had
peremptorily called "Caleb!" twice
right at his bed an hour after she put
him away, and once asked if he had
quilts enough. But when she groped
on the floor to find his clothes she could
feel nothing but his coat, vest and
boots. Caleb had kept his trousers on.
Indeed the probabilities are had
Caleb been given his choice that night
between losing his trousers or his skin
he would have kept the trousers. A
man values most what gets nearest to
his ego. Caleb's earthly ego was get-
ting threadbare. He knew that when
he decided thenceforth and forevermore
to keep those trousers of his next to it.
Still the widow waited, and still
Peart came not. ' She got weary at
length and went outside to listen. The
shrill cold whinny of an owl sounded
over by Caleb Tooze's shanty. That
was all.
It was that owl Peart Falconer heard
as though the night-cursing thing had
perched right in his brain, when with
cold fear in every nerve he bolted out
of Caleb's shanty window. Peart had
entered that window bent upon bur-
glary. The criminal desire had rush-
ed into him like a whirlwind that night
the moment he left the quince orchard.
It was balked again.
Whip I went the lash across the
rumps of the iron-grays. They soort-
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THE WIDOW OF MUMS
179
ed and leaped. The hoofs woUop-
ed on the laae ; the wheels rattled ;
brr-oom [ across the bridge ; up the
road, under the maples and stopped at
the stable door.
Peart sprang out and literally tore
the animals away from the rig. Paot-
iog like dogs they plunged into the
stalls.
"Peartyl" It was the widow's
voice right at the stable door.
Peart turned and faced her. With a
thrill of self- recovery he folded his
arms and, for a moment, would not
speak. He had shown his passion to
one woman that night. He would hide
it from this one.
" Mother," he said with mocking
emphasis, " it takes an old man to
fool a knave. We shall never catch
him. But," setting his teeth, " if 1
could get the fingers you taught knav-
ery to on that money, they should
tear it to bits so smalt not even your
eyes could tell them. Ha I ha ! "
The owl caught up the rest. Right
over the bam somewhere its cold, hid-
eous whinny cursed the night. The
widow heard it and sprang to the
stable-door.
It was already barred inside. She
could hear Peart unharnessing the
horses. It was getting colder.
VII.-ANOTHER ATTEMPT.
Minerva Falconer slept not a wink
that night. She was up next morning
at dawn. So was Peart ; and out
drawing com when Caleb Tooze came
downstairs to breakfast.
Minerva said nothing to the old
man, as she helped Molly wash the
clutter of dirty dishes left by the bee
and the dance ; didn't even notice him
as he took his hat and cane and wan-
dered out. He was in his shanty build-
ing a fire before the dishes were done.
The rising wind beat the smoke down
over the slashing.
Minerva said not a word at dinner.
Neither did Peart, who went out draw-
ing com again before he fed his horses
oats. Neither did Molly.
In the afternoon it started to spit
snow past the window. Minerva took
a shawl and went out. She might
have got on with Peart to ride as he
was just driving out of the lane again
and down the road for another load ol
corn. But she preferred to walk. Per*
haps, if she had carried a basket as she
usually did when she visited Caleb
Tooze, it had been different. But she
carried nothing that afternoon as she
entered the lane and went back to the
shanty, except the shawl over her head
and the look of Roman resolution on
her face.
She entered without Icnock. Caleb
sat hunched over his knees and hands
by the stove, looking as though he
hadn't been away for a year. He
squirmed a little and the chair squeaked
as Minerva entered and, without remov-
ing the shawl from her head, stood by
the table eyeing him with mournful se-
verity. The unconscionable little knot !
It was no use to say anything.
Caleb, doubtless, had a pain in his
head. But if she began to talk she
would have need of the tower of Babel
before she finished.
The fire was low. Minerva opened
the front door of the stove. A gust of
wind blew down the pipe and puffed
the ashes out white. Caleb moved a
little, but said nothing. She opened
the door. A dead leaf hopped on the
step and slid across to the old man's
feet. He merely changed legs, pulled
up his collar and shivered. The dying
coals clinked in the stove. The quilt
on the bed waved its edge in the wind.
The widow pulled down the blinds.
The shanty got dark in the comers.
Standing over the old man in the dull
light from the door Minerva bent her
head.
" Caleb," she said in a deep voice,
" come I "
And the old man rose and followed
her out of the shanty.
(To be continued.)
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M"
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ON SHOTOVER HILL.
RUFFLED and dark and warm the evening dwells
On hill and woodland, g:rey with autumn raic,
And throuffh the dusk the far-off Oxford bells
Move in their slumber, wake, and sleep again.
And g'leam by golden gleam, o'er Cumner's crest
The daylight fades, but still, ah, still I see
Poor Thyrsis' lonely elm — tho' long at rest
Our Thyrsis and his troubled heart must be.
But listen, where sweet rings the twilight note
Of some late wood-bird on the hillside green,
Where through the lonely song there seems to float
The pathos of the summer that has been.
Ah, listen still I Tis but a vesper bird,
Yet how it wakes a thousand old desires.
Perhaps it is the note that Shelley heard
When, years ago, he watched these Oxford spires ;
When years ago, from these same uplands grey,
He saw the Oxford lights across the rain,
In dark autumnal evenings dreamed away
To seek the solace of a woodland strain ;
And here in other days, too, Thyrsis went
Happy with him who smote a youthful lyre,
Yet felt too well the old, old discontent,
The earthly reach, the infinite desire.
Their voices took a troubled sound and they
Too early learned the plaintive autumn touch -
Your mournful bells from out the valley grey
Re-call to-night their music over-much.
1 hear their twilight tingling swell and die
Along the dusk, and all the distant chime
Seems one old, old reiterated cry,
Blown strangely in across grey gulfs of time
For I, sweet city where regretful falls
Time's iron hand on ivied tower and spire,
I know how thrills beneath thy crumbling walls
In thine unageing heart the old desire
To lead us from the twilight to the dawn ;
[ catch the subtle hope, the silent word :
For clear dovsit Oxford hill and college lawn
There rings the song of one remembering btrd.
Oxford, England, 1898. Arthur J. Stringer,
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THE PACIFIC CABLE.
N°
JOW that the CaDadian Goverament
has decided to assume five-
eiifhteenths of the cost of an all-British
Pacific Cable, and the British Columbia
Government two-eig^hteenths, the de-
tails of the scheme may be considered.
In 1896, an Imperial Committee in-
vesti^ated the proposal to lay a cable
from British Columbia on the west
coast of Canada to some point in the
Australasian colonies. The Earl of
Selbome was chairman of this Com-
mittee ; while Lord Strathcona and
the Hon. A. G. Jones represented
Canada. Their report was completed
about the first of the year 1897, but
was not published by the Imperial
Government until recently.
Practicability. — The Committee be-
lieved the project to he practicable,
but suggested a preliminary survey.
They stated, however, that the infor-
mation to hand was quite sufficient to
justify the making of the cable con-
temporaneously with the survey. A
recent despatch from Victoria, B.C.,
(May I ith) says that the British survey
ship Egena has been instructed to pre-
pare to survey the proposed route.
This looks as if the Imperial Govern-
ment was willing to, at least, bear the
expense of a survey. Whether it is
willing to assist in arrangements look-
ing to the manufacture of a cable in
the meantime remains to be seen.
Route. — TheCommittee recommend-
ed that the route should be from Van-
couver via Fanning or Palyrma Island,
Fiji and Norfolk Island, with branches
from the latter to Queensland and New
Zealand. Laid in this way, the cable
would be all-British, and thus meet the
expressed wishes of the Canadian and
Australasian Governments.
Length. — The length of cable would
be 7.986 miles. The connections would
be via the Commerdal Cable Company
toCanso, Nova Scotia, and then across
the continent by the Canadian Pacific
tel^raph. This would mean consider-
able business for these two companies,
and the Committee seemed to be of the
opinion that some arrangement should
be made with them. It would seem
quite- reasonable that the Governments
concerned should demand from these
two companies either a special rate on
all business given to them, or a per-
centage of the receipts on all business
originating from the laying of the cable.
This is a point to which, undoubtedly,
the Canadian Government will give its
serious consideration before an agree-
ment is finally approved.
Cost. — The size and weight of the
cable depends upon the speed required
for transmission. The Committee con-
cluded that a core of 553 pounds of
copper and 368 pounds of gutta percha
to the nautical mile might he expected
to give 40 paying letters per minute.
This would be a capacity of 1,620,000
words a year of three hundred days of
eighteen hours each. One company
offered to lay a cable of this class for
;^i,5i7,ooo, this -sum including the
erection at each station of a suitable
dwelling house and operating room
with duplicate sets of all proper instru-
ments ; also the use of two cable-re-
pairing ships, with the cost of main-
taining them as well as the cables them-
selves for three years. The working
expenses would be ^^22,000 a year,
while replacing and repair vessels
would bring this up to ;^93,ooo a
year. Estimating the capital at £1,-
5cx>,ooo and the replacement period of
this capital at fifty-years, the following
table shows the total cost per year:
Interest at 3^ p.c.
Interest £41,150
Sinking Fund '4'3"
Working: Expenses 31,000
Maintenance 70,000
Total £147.56"
It will thus be seen that the total
cost per year would be about $700, 00a
If the South Australian Government and
the Eastern Extension Telegraph Com-
181
Digitized by Google
l83
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
pany should require to be naJd for loss
of trade, the cost would be correspond-
iugly increased.
Revenue. — TheCommittee estimated
the revenue would be 750,000 words
for the first year, and ten per cent, in-
crease each subsequent year. At two
shillings a word, this would net £7^,-
000 the first year ; ^^83,500 the second
year ; and £90,750 the third year. It
would require a rate of about three
shillings per word to equalize revenue
and cost.
Ownership. — The Committee was of
the opinion that the cable should be
owned and worked by the Governments
interested. Id this decision the Com-
mittee expressed its disapproval of the
subsidy arrangement, thus reading a
lesson to such Governments as ours
which seem to have bound themselves
up with the subsidy principle for all
public undertakings.
Management. — The Committee fav-
oured the general direction of the cable
being in the hands of a manager in
London. Just why Lord Selborne
and his associates desired to have the
management in London Instead of in
British Columbia or in Queensland is
difficult to imagine. The general direc-
tor should be at one end of the cable,
or close to one end of it, not 6,000 miles
away from the nearest end. If it is
desired to have the management in a
governmental city, why not choose
Ottawa ? Canada's contribution to the
project is greater than Great Britain's.
CURRENT EVENTS ABROAD.
ON more than one occasion Lord
Salisbury has declared, with
gentle satire, that the worst enemies a
Foreign Minister has to face are the
necessity of making speeches, and the
premature publicity given to the nego-
tiations. In spite of these trying ob-
stacles the British Foreign Minister
has been able to spring a surprise upon
an eager critical generation of news-
paper readers by his agreement with
Russia. It may only be a truce, since
each country has a profound distrust of
the other, but for the present at least,
it appears, the danger of a war with
Russia over the Chinese question is re-
moved. England is to have her sphere
of influence in China, and Russia's
clutch upon the north is to tighten into
a permanent bold. Ever since the
Crimean war Russia has had, not un-
justly, a suspicion of English diplo-
macy, while by far the most potent
elements in English politics are possess-
ed of the idea that Russia is a dangerous
friend and a still more dangerous
enemy. But Russia needs British cap-
ital and the British market, while Eng-
land is always ready for peace — on her
own terms — with anyone.
The Peace Conference at the Hague
may now meet without fear that a war
will break out during its deliberations.
It will be composed of able men, but
the general opinion is that their discus-
sions can be little more than academic.
There are some things which cannot be
carried out, and a disarmament policy
is one of them. The position of Eng-
land is peculiar ; she of all countries
would suffer most from war and at the
same time can best bear the burden im-
posed by the cost of armies and fleets.
The navy is the real source of her
strength, but since it is essential to
preserve a world-wide empire, its with*
drawal is an impossibility. In the
abstract, no doubt, the English dele-
gates to the Conference will talk peace
until their eyelids can no longer wag,
but when it comes to breaking up these
magnificent fleets which are at once the
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CURRENT EVENTS ABROAD
pride and safety of the Empire, the
Government that would propose such a
policy would soon be on its last legs.
But Russia, France, Italy and Austria
are borne down by taxation for war
purposes and it is quite reasonable that
those countries should discuss the pros
and cons of disaimameDt.
In France the wearisome Dreyfus
case still dra^ on and the fate of Min*
istries and the honour of the army
hang upon the issue. If one knew the
real mood of Paris at this time one
could predict with tolerable certainty
the immediate future of the country.
Abandoned by Russia in the attempt to
bait England, the French Government
has been obliged to drop its hectoring
tone and to settle its African difficul-
ties OD a basis that appears to be a fair
compromise. The French maybe asking
themselves the real value of an alliance
which failed them just when it was
most needed. The commercial interests
that centre round the Paris Exposition
are probably shaping policy to some
extent and preparations go on for that
interesting and money-yielding event.
Doubt is thrown upon the cable-
grams from South Africa which are
said to be doctored to suit one side or
the other. The trouble with t^e Trans-
vaal continues a festering sore, and at
no lime since its occurrence is the cri-
minal folly of the Jameson Raid more
clearly recognized. Mr. Rhodes is un-
questionably a man of great force and
ability, but, right or wrongly, the view
prevails that his policy is not a purely
patriotic one but is dictated to an ap-
preciable extent by the interests of self-
ish capitailists of whom he himself is a
central figure. The abilities of Sir
Alfred Milner, the Governor at the
Cape, are now being brought into play
and bereft of German assistance it re-
mains to be seen how long the stubborn
medisevalism of President Kruger can
hold out. The Uitlanders have a sub-
stantial grievance in the deprivation of
political rights, but behind this loom
the interests of investors whose cries
are quite as loud and quite as effective
in our time as those of downtrodden
civilians who want votes and schools
and the precious privilege of open agi-
tation so dear to democratic hearts.
Mr. Rhodes has spoken so highly of
the prospects of finding gold in Rhode-
sia that a rush to that region is regard-
ed as probable. When Mr. Selous,
the noted hunter of big game, spoke on
the prospects of Rhodesia, in his ad-
dress at Toronto two years ago, he was
interpreted as damning the region with
faint praise. In London there Is a fear
that too great expectations may be
formed of Rhodesia. But the English
find South Africa a fascinating field for
investment and must be left to acquire
their own experience.
In Great Britain, Parliament is much
occupied with the passage of the Lon-
don Bill, a municipal question, it is
true, but one of vast import, affecting
the greatest city in the world. No
Englishman dreams of grudging the
time spent upon rearranging the local
govemmentofthosecommunitieswhich
are huddled together In so unwieldy a
mass that one elective body cannot
possibly attend to their affairs. Mr.
Balfour, with his usual insight and
urbanity, is aiding the passage of the
bill, the principle of which is generally
accepted, in spite of great controversy
over the details. The agitation against
ritualism continues with unabated force
and the ultimate epd of the fight is
very difficult to foresee. !t is a lay
movement of unusual persistency, and
the prelates and the Government are
visibly embarrassed. As time goes on
it may furnish a battle-cry to the Op-
position, since extension of the fran-
chise, reform of the House of Lords,
and disestablishment, are almost the
last steps which militant Radicalism
has to take toward the setting up of a
real democracy. In Scotland two of
the Presbyterian Churches, the Free
Kirk and the U. P. Church are taking
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
cautious and wary steps toward cor-
porate union, in order to line up for a
purely secular attack on the old Church
of Scotland, whose position in the State
is exceptional, since its privileg'es as an
establishment are not injurious to its
neighbours, while it continues to have
a stfong hold upon the sentiment and
the pride of many Scotsmen. The
Church and the judicial system are the
last official vestiges of the old Scottish
nationality.
natJoDS no party cares to divorce itself
from such a policy. The feneral elec-
tion is still three years off, and there is
time for reconstruction in the Liberal
ranks. To the onlooker it appears as
if Lord Rosebery would ultimately be
summoned back to the leadership at a
time when a clear-cut policy can be
proclaimed. Just now there is no
great issue on which to force the fight-
ing. An Opposition without a case is
in sorry plight.
To judge the new Irish County Gov-
ernment Act by a single election, is
hardly logical. The landlord influence
was undoubtedly overturned, although
individual landlords have been gener-
ously treated by the voters. It would
appear as if the gentry as a class must
now win the confidence of the people
and assert the claims that may fairly
be theirs as leaders of the nation. The
problems of Ireland are peculiar to it-
self, but true statesmanship never yet
confessed failure in any given political
condition, and the working of the new
municipal bodies may be made smooth
and easy, provided the right spirit is
shown. To divide the community on
the lines of creed, or on the clashing of
landlord and tenant, can only mean, in
Ulster and elsewhere, the permanent
ostracism of the landowners from any
potent share in the local administration.
*
There is great unrest in the English
Liberal party. Sir Henry Campbell-
Bannerman's leadership is apparently
a makeshift which cannot persist in the
face of much apathy among the rank
and file and a determined call for a
more authoritative voice. Lord Rose-
bery's popularity is a factor that can-
not be ignored, while Sir William
Harcourt, clever as he is, has no real
hold on the country and is quite unable
to marshal the hosts of Radicalism.
It is declared that Imperialism is the
dividing line in the Liberal party.
What is Imperialism? When it con-
sists, as the Imperialism of Lord Salis-
bury and Lord Rosebery does, of a
desire to preserve peace with foreign
The United States, having gone into
the business of empire-building, finds
the initial proceedings onerous and
expensive. The acquirement of Cuba,
Hawaii and the Philippines will discip-
line the politicians who have for several
generations been able, without much
fear of results, to shock and startle the
diplomacy of Europe. The Republic
has given hostages to fortune. This
is a welcome feature of the war with
Spain. A vast and turbulent demo-
cracy, ill disciplined to law, loosely
knit for every purpose except that of
commerce, singularly safe from all
foreign menace, self-sustaining and
rich, might be a dangerous force
among modem states. There must
now be a certain amount of give and
take, instead of an ambitious desire to
take and no give. In spite of the
sneers and the fears aroused by the
new Imperialism, there is no evidence
that President McKinley has lost his
political authority, or that his chances
for a second term at the White House
are endangered. He will doubtless be
renominated without opposition by his
party next year, and unless some new
complication arises, he will be re-
elected.
.ft
It is claimed that the atrocities com-
mitted in the South upon negro crimin-
als concern a very small percentage of
the whole population. It is further
contended that 90 per cent, of the
negroes are law-abiding and innocent of
all blame. Both statements may be
true. But the fact that the eotire
white population either openly or
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CURRENT EVENTS ABROAD
silently acquiesces in the outrages,
while the state g^overnments exhibit a
complete paralysis of authority, is not
a reassuring sign. The exercise of ail
ad minis trative functions inmany Sou th-
em States is vested practically in the
whites. If they cannot command the
confidence of their own people in in-
flicting punishment for crime, and a
section of these very whites take the
law into their own hands, the condi-
tion is not far removed from anarchy.
The educated ne|;roes themselves ad-
mit that summary punishment and
cruel atrocities have no deterrent effect
whatever upon the criminals of their
race, A continuance of the outrages,
while the cause for them exists, may
be looked for, and one cannot see the
end of this painful war of races.
A semi-official denial meets the re-
port that the International Commission
between Canada and the United States
is a failure. One has to be careful in
the use of terms in describing the po-
sition of affairs. Where neither side
is desperately anxious for a treaty, the
word failure is perhaps inappropriate.
Two men meet to discuss disputed
points and part without reaching a con-
clusion. This is not exactly a failure,
but a polite agreement to disagree.
There is such a thing as treating an in-
ternational court of arbitration with
levity. On the other hand, there is
always a danger of taking matters too
seriously. The United States have far
more weighty questiops to consider
than border disputes with Canada.
The Dominion is by no means bent
upon a treaty with the States at any
price. We must do the best we can to
avoid angry feeling and time may settle
the principal disputes without loss of
temper on either side. Mr. Charl-
ton, M.P., has already, in this maga-
zine*, caused a great deal of discussion
by his statement of the grievance sus-
*Canadian Magazine for May,
tained by Michigan lumbermen owing
to the Ontario legislation. That legis-
lation was in accordance with public
sentiment and no serious attempt to
challenge its constitutionality has yet
been made. Perhaps its weakest point
is that it was passed by a Government
which had for many years opposed the
passage of any such measure. But
consistency in politicians evokes no
gratitude from the electors in any coun-
try and the Ontario Ministers submit-
ted to the inevitable as gracefully as
could have been expected.
When the United States Government
refused to release McLeod many years
ago on the ground that he was in the
custody of New York State, and Lord
Palnierston, with deadly civility, re-
marked that he could not declare war
agfunst the State of New York, it was
felt that the independent powers of
states would never be recognized by
any foreign country strong enough to
resent evasion of duty by the federal
authority. In Canada, by the nature
of the constitution of 1867, the pro-
vincial powers were weaker than those
claimed by individual States in the
Union. Agitations and many decisions
by the highest courts have, during
twenty years, tended to strengthen
provincial rights. Disallowance of
provincial laws has become a rare and,
politically, a dangerous proceeding.
The enactments of British Columbia in
regard to Japanese immigration, and
the mining rights enjoyed by foreigners,
point to some conflict between federal
and provincial authorities. A vigor-
ously governed province may cause in-
ternational complications. We are not
as free as we thought we were of the
dangerarisingfromaconflict of interest
and policy between the Dominion and
some part of it. The outcome, both
politically and constitutionally, offers
some interesting speculations.
A. H. U. Colquhoun.
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THE article in this number by the
late Senator Boulton has an in-
terest apart from the matter contained
therein. It was penned by the late
honourable g'entleman just before his
departure from Ottawa to Manitoba
where his sudden death occurred, and
it will therefore go on record as his last
public utterance. There is no doubt
also that in it may be found those ideas
which were nearest his heart during his
paHiamentarj' career.
The story by Gilbert Parker which
occupies the place of honour in this
issue is published simultaneously with
The Atlantic Monthly and Lady Church-
ill's new quarterly. It deals with life
in Egypt, where Mr. Parker spent the
greater part of the past twelve months.
The country is prosperous. Those
years of distrust, commonly called
" bard times," have passed once more
like the summer thunderstorm. The
Minister of Finance and his colleagues,
assisted by somevery clever journalists,
are endeavouring to prove that this
prosperity, this passing of the thunder-
clouds, is due to the Liberal Govern-
ment. The ex-Minister of Finance, hts
very wordy leader, and other members
of the Opposition are endeavouring to
prove that the prosperity now being
enjoyed is no more due to Liberal rule
than to Conservative rule ; that, in fact,
the Conservative policy sowed the
wind which drove away the clouds.
Both groups of gentlemen are wrong.
The prosperity of this country, the ex-
pansion of trade, the developing confi-
dence of the people are due more to the
fact that Canadians have come to realize
that Canada's hope lies in her people,
not in her politicians.
During Uits half century, the politi-
cians have performed but three notable
deeds. They brought about confed-
eration, a most wonderful accomplish-
ment ; they built railways from Halifax
to Vancouver, a wonderful accomplish-
ment; and they looked nice at the
Jubilee in [897, an accomplishment.
What else have they done, that a
dozen permanent heads of departments
could not have done with one quarter
the expense? Aye, and have done
better. They would not have bonused
duplicate railways over half the coun-
try ; they would not have built canals
that are never used ; they would
not have dredged harbours where
there was no likelihood of steam vessels
entering ; they would not have built
post-offices, armouries and other public
buildings at double prices and where
they were unnecessary ; they would
have prevented a clash over the
Manitoba schools ; they would have
settled our untenanted fertile lands
with double the speed ; and they would
have made the administrative and civil
service a plac^ for men of iotelligence
and force, instead of, as it is at present,
a refuge for windy and unscrupulous
politicians — with a sprinkling of poets.
The country needs a new transpor-
tation policy and a new Northwest
settlement policy and no one seems
anxious to provide either. The Gov-
ernment upholds the discredited policy
of railway and shipping bonuses and
the inadequate policy of assisted Euro-
pean immigration. The former policy
plays into the bands of selfish capital-
ists and the latter allows the young
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EDITORIAL COMMENT
Canadian tocross the line into the United
States without a friendly word to Ud
him halt and thinlc.
The British colony of Queensland
was once asked to make a land grant
without cash to two proposed railway
companies and to its credit be it said
it refused. The Australasian colonies,
including' New Zealand, have spent
;£i3i, 000,000 on railways, but they
own every mile on which this money
was spent. In 1897, the profit
from these lines was 3.16 per cent, on
the total investment. The prospect is
that in a year or two the profit will be
more than the interest on this sum. In
Canada we have spent $250,000,000
without the slightest chance of getting
back one million. The only legislator
in Canada bold enough to call a halt
in this bonus system is Premier Mar-
chand of Quebec. He has, I under-
stand, decided that no more provincial
railway bonuses shall be granted at
present. It is to be hoped that he will
make his policy permanent so far as his
province is concerned. Some mem-
bers of the Dominion Parliament in the
present and previous sessions have
protested, but the majority foolishly
accept the bonus policy as a necessity.
If new railways must be built, and
the Federal or the Provincial Govern-
ments feel that they should be aided,
they may either take stock in the road,
lend money for a term of years on a
mortg'age, or guarantee the bonds for
a term of years. These actions could
be defended in certain cases ; bonuses
are wholly unsound.
As to the settlement of the North-
west, the efforts of the Dominion Gov-
ernment should not be confined alone
to assisted immigration from Europe.
The surplus population of Eastern Can-
ada should be coaxed to the vacant
lands of the wesL South Australia,
Victoria, Western Australia and New
Zealand lend money to settlers at low
rates of interest. Some plan could be
arranged to make loans to young men
from the east, who take up and im-
prove lands in Manitoba and the Terri-
tories. Since Confederation, about
eight millions of dollars have been ex-
pended on foreign immigrants. This
sum atone would have been sufficient
to give 35,000 families of settlers, one
hundred dollars a year for three years \
or it would have paid the interest on
over $6,000,000 for thirty years at four
per cent. That six million dollars
would have furnished a free loan of five
hundred dollars for five years for 72,000
families. If the Government were to
offer any young man from Ontario,
Quebec and Nova Scotia who would
go west, take up and improve a farm
of 160 acres, a loan of $500 for five
years, without interest, there would be
many who would take advantage of it.
Or better still, if the Government would
offer every such young farmer a grant
of $50 a year for five years for certain
improvements on his new farm, the
trains would hardly carry all who
wished to take advantage of such a
favourable situation.
But the Government apparently does
not care about the surplus population
of the east. It prefers Doukhobors,
Galicians, Hungarians and Icelanders.
I do not wish to belittle the work
done by the Immigration Department.
The Hon. Clifford Sifton has put new
life into that, and has done much to
increase the number of European and
United States emigrants. He has
kept his agents active. The printed
material which he has sent out is at-
tractive and sensible.*
But the Government should supplement
this work by some such offer to young
Canadians as has been suggested above.
The cities will grow and railways will
be built with very little Government
assistance. What has been done for
the cities, the harbours, the canals and
the railways in the past was necessary
in many cases. But for the future, we
must get the people on the land.
'This material, the Superintendent of Immi-
gration infonns me, i> distributed only in
Europe and the Uniied Slates, not in Canada.
,Gooj^lc
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Nearly a million young Canadians have
gone to the United States during the
last forty years. Probably half orthese
could have been induced to settle on
the lands of Northern Ontario, Mani-
toba, the Territories and British (Col-
umbia, if the Government had paid their
transport thither, or had assisted them
by loaning them capital. They have
offered each settler i6o acres of land
at a cost of about $20. They have
found that offer was insufficient, yet
they have never increased it. In the
case of foreign immigrants, the Gov-
ernment spends some money on them
and allows them to bring in thetr
household effects, implements, and a
certdn number of horses, cattle sheep
and swine without paying the usual 20
per cent, duty on these animals. But
□o corresponding advantage is off^ered
to settlers from Nova Scotia, Ontario
and Quebec. Supposing a settler from
Dakota desires to cross the line into
Manitoba, and has $600 worth of effects
and cattle, the Government relinquishes
$120 of revenue. Why not give a set-
tler from the Eastern Provinces free
transportation, or some equal advan-
tage?
*
In the Senate on April 26 there was
a discussion of this subject, led by
Senator Perley, a former resident of
the Maritime Provinces, but now of
the Northwest Speaking of the new
immigrants the honourable gentleman
said ; —
"Many of them are an undesirable class of
people. The Galicians cost the country a
considerable sum to get them liere and to
keep them after they came. They have a very
degraded idea of humanity and Christianity.
They are a class of people who believe thai a
man may kill his wife if she does not happen
to suit him, and two of these men are now
under sentence of death for murder in Mani-
toba That is a very undesirable class
of people to bring; into the Northwest, while
we are allowing the young men of our coun-
try I > go to the United Slates. I undereUnd
that (he Doukhobors are not a very desirable
class either. I had a conversation on my way
down here with His Grace Ihe ArchWshop of
St. Boniface, and .... he said thai these
were a very undesirable class — people that he
did not think it advisable to bring into this
.country [ therefore think, under the
circumstances, that the Govemmeat ought to
take steps to divert Ilie exodus from the Mari-
time Provinces, which is now Rowing 10 Ihe
United States, to our own Northwest, which
is one of the finest countries for young men,
particularly young Canadians, to settle in. The
Government should take some steps lo adver-
tise the Northwest more largely in the Mari-
time Provinces. I know that It is not Ihe
policy of the Government to encourage people
to leave one part of Canada to settle in an-
other, but they would l>e justilied in taking
such means as might be necessary to influence
young men, by griving them cheaper railroad
rales, or even free transportation, or making
some advances to them, to enable them to go
to the Northwest Territories instead of to Ihe
United States They would be doing a
good work, and would make more money for
the country apart from keeping a valuable
population in our country."
This, it appears to me, is a very sane
presentation of the subject, and is in
marked contrast with the extremeviews
of the subject presented by the party
journalists. The Hon. Mr. Boulton
added that the junior member from
Halifax informed him that, in coming
up from that city, there were on the
same train with him one hundred and
twenty people going to the United
States. The Hon. Mr. Mills, leader of
the Senate, defended the Government's
policy with regard to European immi-
gration, and defended the statement in
the speech from the throne that the
exodus had almost ceased. His argu-
ments were not quite conclusive, al-
though every person will admit that
the exodus was never smaller than at
present. He predicted that in a few
years the objectionable Europeans
would be enthusiastic, loyal and pros-
perous Canadians, and quoted in sup-
port of his statement the experience of
the United States.
Admitting that these Europeans can
be made into respectable citizens, that
they are settling in districts which or-
dinary citizens would not caie to oc-
cupy, and that the exodus of young
Canadians is decreasing, much remains
to be done. We cannot afford to lose
a single citizen. If a slight change in
the Government's policy would induce
the surplus population of the east to
go to the west the change would be
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EDITORIAL COMMENT
justified. The natural increase of our
people in the east will always supply
a certain number of wanderers. The
establishment of bureaus of informa-
tion here and there throughout the
older provinces, the dissemination of
what is commonly known as " immi*
^ration literature," and the offer of free
transportation, or temporary loans,
would induce manyyoung men to settle
upon the vacant lands of the west, who
otherwise will drift into the overcrowd-
ed professions or across the boundary
The east needs more population
also, but the east must wait until the
wanderers cease from wandering. In
the meantime the wanderers should be
looked after and told that if they must
migrate that the Northwest should be
their destination.
Perhaps it would be as well to close
the universities and medical colleges of
the east for a few years in order that
we may get more brainy farmers for
both the east and the west. This
would be an immense benefit to the
whole country. Our high schools and
our universities, as they are run at
present, are detrimental to the best in-
terests of agriculture and commerce.
Let us give the professors a five-year
vacation and by that time we will have
better farmers and better business men.
Mrs. Fitzgibbon, a step-daughter ot
the late D'Alton McCarthy, has made
a valuable suggestion in the London
Times. She proposes that the "sur-
plus " British women of the better
classes be trained in dairying and agri-
culture at an institution established by
the Canadian Government for that pur-
pose. The Times says that there are
a million and a quarter "surplus"
women in England, and believes that
much can be said in favour of a scheme
to train some of these and establish
them in the Northwest.
Let them come by all means, and let
them be trained as farmers or as farm-
ers'wives — whichever they may choose.
But why not have a similar scheme for
training the " surplus " men of Eng-
land 7 We want agriculturists, not
mere labourers — men with intelligence
and knowledge ; and we need trained
men just as much as we need trained
women.
The most striking feature of recent
developments of governmental policy
is the announcement of the Minister
of Finance that the expenditure during
the coming year will be increased, and
will probably be about fifty millions.
This is not the kind of policy that was
expected of a Government which when
it was in Opposition declared that an
expenditure of forty millions was rank
extravagance. The party must have
been wrong then, or it is wrong now.
I incline to the opinion that it was
wrong when it was in Opposition, and
that the proposed increase in expend-
iture has some justification. Still it
cannot be fully justified, and some of
the Opposition criticism is well founded.
Vet Canada is wonderfully conserv-
ative as compared with the Australasian
Colonies. Including New Zealand,
their total population is 4,500,000,
fully a million less than that of Canada.
Their governmental revenue is $150,-
000,000, as compared with our $40,-
000,000 ; even if we added to our fed-
eral revenues that of all the provinces
it would not total over $50,000,000.
The public debt of all these Austral-
asian Colonies is slightly over a billion
of dollars, or nearly four times our net
federal public debt, and more than
three times that of the Dominion and
Provinces combined. The total gross
debt of the Dominion and the Provinces
is just about four hundred millions ; and
the assets are about one hundred mil-
lions. Australia has $65,000,000 in the
savings banks ; Canada has about the
same amount. In addition, we have
deposits in the chartered banks to the
extent of over two hundred millions.
John A. Cooper. '
Digitized byGoOgIC
CANADA'S DEVELOPMENT.
THE developmeat of our country is
well chronicled and admirably
gauged by the various writers in the
fifth volume of " Canadian Encyclo-
psedia."* It is divided into seven sec-
tion;;, an enumeration of which may
b* permissible : —
I. Agricultural Resources and Devel-
z. Literature and Journalism.
3. Our Chief Cities.
4. Financial History, Loan Com-
panies and Insurance.
5. Natural History.
6. Constitutional History and Devel*
opment.
7. Industrial Development, Forests
and Fisheries.
There is the same overlapping in the
articles, the same incoherency in the
arrangement of the minor parts, and
the same carelessness of details as in
the previous volumes. As an example
of the overlapping we find in Section
II. the three following papers : " His-
torical Sketch of Canadian Journal-
ism," "Character and Position of the
Canadian Press," and "A Review of
Canadian Journalism." These three
papers could have been cut down to
two with a great saving of words and
time. As an example of incoherency ;
Sir Charles Tupper writes of the origin
of Confederation, and Senator Macdon-
ald of the Confederation movement in
Prince Edward Island, but there is no
mention of the Confederation move-
ment in the other provinces. As to
carelessness of details, one example
must suffice : On the first page of the
volume under review appears the ex-
pression "couriers de bois," while in
* Toronto : Th« IJascott Publishing- Co.
Vol. I., p. 50, it reads " coureurs-du-
bois." Both of these are, to say the
least, unusual.
But aside from these minor points,
the volume is very creditable indeed,
and the various writers who have con-
tributed are to be congratulated upon
the excellence of their work. Each
article evidences a special knowledge
on the part of its author, and through
all run the patriotic fervour and the
buoyant spirit which are at present so
profoundly stirring all parts of our coun-
try. There is a joyfulness over what
we have done, and a hopefulness over
what we are doing, which assure for
Canada a future standing of no mean
cxcelleoce amongst the nations of the
world. It strikes me that, however
imperfect Mr. Hopkins' volumes may
be from one point of view, he has done
a grand work in presenting Canada as
an entity to Canadians who may not
previously have recognized her as such.
As Sir Alexander Lacoste says in his
introduction to this volume : " May it
serve the double purpose of increasing
the respect for Canada abroad and ce-
menting the spirit of union and har-
mony amongst us at home."
There is no mention of this being
the last volume of the Encyclopaedia,
and there is a rumour that the sixth is
under way. It is to be hoped that Mr.
Hopkins is not trying to make this work
like unto Tennyson's brook.
NEW FICTION.
It may safely be said that the book
of the month in Canada has been
"David Harum." It has been cun-
ningly advertised and well placed be-
fore the public. I am not surprised at
its popularity — I suppose I wouldn't
190
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BOOKS AND AUTHORS
191
be expected to confess the fact, if I
were — because the book has a homely
humour which is irresistible, and be-
cause we take a delight ia listenin|f to
a man who knocks down orthodoxy
aod conventionality. When David
bested the Deacon in a horse trade, the
whole continent laug;hs, because it
knows the weaknesses of deacons and
such. When he buys ahorse from the
professing Christian on a Sunday,
people chuckle because they know the
degree of genuineness of the average
modern Christian. David says some
very old things in a new, bright way.
But to class "David Harum" as a
literary production of first rank is to
strain the imagination. As a novel, it
is poor in plot, uneven and jolty in
treatment. As a character, David
is a creation — and that is all that can
justly be said in praise of Mr. West-
cott's book.
J)
"A Double Thread,"* by Ellen
Thornycroft Fowler, the author of
"Concerning Isabel Camaby," is a
splendid book. The dialogue is clever ;
and the plot, while not entirely new, is
cleverly handled. .The author is the
daughter of Sir Henry Fowler, late
Secretary of State for India. Her
previous book was quite popular be-
cause of hef treatment of the noncon-
formist religionists of England, and
because of its spirited style. This
story is just as spirited in the telling
and less controversial in its handling of
religious themes. Captain Le Mesu-
rier falls in love with a modest govern-
ness named Ethel Harland, who hy the
va£-ary of a deceased grandfather is
kept poor while her twin sister revels
in luxury. The captain knows the rich
sister also, and tries to effect a closer
friendship between the two sisters.
The rich giri refuses to see or assist
her unfortunate sister with whom the
captain is in love. The rich sister la
the meantime endeavours to win his
regfard, and in her efforts is ably as-
sisted by the captain's bachelor uncle
who promises him a large estate if he
•Toronto: William Brigrgs.
will marry the rich instead of the poor
sister. But the captain being a simple-
minded but whole-souled chap is faith-
ful. Suddenly comes the discovery
that the two sisters are one, that Elfri-
da Harland the heiress has been mas-
querading as the poor sister to test her
lover's faithfulness. Alas, the discovery
disenchants the lover and he refuses to
marry the heiress who has thus toyed
with his affections ; and who can blame
him P It is unwise to test love and
friendship unnecessarily.
These were their last words together
— for a long time :
" But, Jack dear, I love you so."
"You love me, and yet you made a
fool of me! No, Miss Harland, I can-
not believe in such love as that."
" I only did it to make sure of you.
Can't you understand how sick I was
of shadows, and how I wanted to find
one true heart ? "
" And so, having found it, you broke
it to see if it was breakable. Well,- it
was. "
"Then must everything be at an
end between usP" Elfrida pleaded;
"surely, surely you cannot mean that!"
" But I do mean it. Don't you see
that now you have once deceived me 1
can never trust you again ? And love
without trust is impossible." .
This dialogue explains the point on
which the story turns, but it is not an
example of Miss Fowler's best style.
She is seldom sorrowful or dramatic ;
she is rather of a humorous turn with
a lively appreciation of the best that is
in life. Many of her remarks and re-
flections are worth remembering :
"As long as people are civil to me to
my face, I don't care what they say be-
hind my back ; our faces are our own
but our hacks are our neighbours'."
"Englishwomen hide their feelings
as carefully as they hide their garters. "
"Spoiling a pretty quarrel is on a par,
to my mind, with shooting a fox."
"The intelligent woman combines
the respectable dulness of a Church
Congress, with the mental fatigue of a
mathematical tripos, and yet never
loses the lynx-eyed exactingness of the
unattractive woman."
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1 93
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Another strong novel isConan Doyle's
latest production entitled ' ' A Duet with
an Occasional Chorus."* The one
point at which it is vulnerable is where
he introduces a scarlet woman in order,
apparently, to make a contrast between
her and the young wife of Francis
Crosse. Surely it is possible to show
the excellence of virtue without com-
paring it with vice, and to picture the
sweetness and pure-mindedness of an
innocent wife without comparing her
with a fallen and profligate person of
the same sex! It is reported that a
firm of publishers in New York refused
the book because of this superfluous
character. Mr. Doyle was asked to
remove her but declined. If this be
true, the publishers of New York have
amongst them the one or two righteous
men who may save Sodom. This wo-
man is but a minor feature, however,
in a rather sweet tale of courtship and
early marital bliss. The arrival of the
important person who makes the duet
a trio is cleverly handled, with that
mingling of humour and pathos of
which only the greater novelists and
orators are masters. The description
of this arrival ends thus:
"So Frank went down inlo the darkening
room below, and mechanically lighting his
pipe, he sal with his elbows on his knees and
stared out into the galhering gloom where
one brig-ht evening star twinkled in a violet
sky. The g^enlle hush of the gloaming was
around him, and some late bird was calling
outside amongst the laurels. Above he heard
the shuffling of feet, the murmur of voices,
and then amid it all [hose thin glutinous cries,
All voice, the voice of this new man with all
a man's possibilities for good and for evil,
who had taken up his dwelling with them, and
as he listened to (hose cries, a gentle sadness
was mixed with his joy, for he felt that thins;^
were now forever changed — that whatever
sweet harmonies of life might still be await-
ing him from this hour onwards, they might
form themselves into the loveliest of chords,
but it must always be as a trio, and never as
the dear duet of the past."
*
W. D. Howells has allowed the
gentle stream of his genius to run into
another novel, A young girl, ragged
but beautiful, takes the fancy of a rich
old lady, who adopts her, takes her
"Toronto: George N. Morang.
abroad, and at her death leaves her
older but still " ragged and beautiful."
As a novel, ' ' Ragged Lady "* is a strik-
ing piece of work, bearing to the other
current novels the same relation as a
steel engraving bears to a strong litho-
graph. Because of this excellence, it
will appeal only to those who can ap-
preciate mezzo-tints and that softness
and gentleness of detailed delineation
which marks that school of novelists
who place art first. The Canadian
edition is sold at a lower price than the
United States edition, but contains all
the illustrations and is a most credit-
able production.
Beatrice Harraden has taken for the
title of her latest story, t the words,
"Our Soul is escaped even as a Bird
out of the Snare of the Fowler." The
Bird is Nora Penhurst, a bright, young
classical teacher, and the Fowler is a
small, heartless man, who tries to tame
her, subdue her mental powers, and
make her his slave. The story of the
struggle and the final triumph of love
and nature is the story which Miss
Harraden tells. "The Fowler" is a
curious book, almost as curious as
"Ships that Pass in The Night";
and it is difficult to form an estimate
of it. Perhaps it is best not to try, but
simply to say that it is curious — unique
—eccentric, a book which may be read
and wondered over. Its lesson is elu-
sive, but there is no doubt it has one.
To different readers the lesson may be
different.
NOTES.
The love of country is the root of
much that is good, and Rev. W. J.
Mackenzie, Rector of Chippawa, has
shown that his love for Canada has not
dimmed his appreciation of his mother-
land. His volume, entitled " Scot-
land's Share in Civilizing the World,"t
is a collection of lectures delivered be-
•Toronto : The W. J. Gage Co.
t The Fowler, by Beatrice Harraden, Tor-
onto : The Copp, Clark Co.
J Toronto: The Fleming H. Revell Co.
Cloth, $i,oo.
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BOOKS AND AUTHORS
fore Scotchmen in various parts of Ca-
nada. In its two hundred pai^es this
eathunastic cler^^man has mentioned
every one of Scotland's hemes in bat-
tle, in politics, in literature, in science,
in discovery, in invention, in fine arts,
in manufacturing' and in finance, and
^ven concerning each many interest-
ing details.
" The Story of the Cowboy,'" by E.
Hough, is not a piece of fiction, but an
interesting account of the cattle trade
of the Western States. Much of the
everyday conception of the "cow-punch-
er" is snipped off as one reads this
sane and truthful description of the life,
work and history of the cattle-men who
were, to a great extent, the pioneers of
Western North America.
inside history of the relations existing
between Kipling and Clemens the
greater.
Some time ago there was published
an illustrated volume entitled "The
Origin and Services of the 3rd (Mon-
treal) Field Battery of Artillery." The
author is Captain Ernest J. Chambers,
a well-known writer and journalist, and
the publisher is E. L. Ruddy, of Mon-
treal. The book is a credit to both,
the letterpress and binding being ot
an artistic — one might almost say aris-
tocratic— nature. This corps of artil-
lery was on service during the Fenian
Raid, and both before and after that
date was called upon to aid the civil
power in repressing civic disorders.
Its history is interesting reading.
Any Canadian desiring to read the
latest popular science series published
in French may secure twelve volumes
of " Les Livres d'Or de la Science,'*
by sending twelve francs to Schleicher
FrSvrs, 15 Rue des Saints Peres, Paris.
Among the volumes ready are : La
Panorama des Si^cles (historical) ; Les
Races Jannes : Les Celestes (ethnologi-
cal) ; La Photographie de I'lnvisible,
les Rayons X. ; Histoire et rdle du Boeuf
dans la Civilisation ; La Pr^histoire de
la France ; Les Microbes et la Mort
(medical); Les Feux et les Eaux (scien-
tific). The volumes are small but well
illustrated and have been compiled by
specialists.
Jt
"A Ken of Kipling,"! by Will M.
Clemens, is said to have met with
some disfavour in the eyes of the great
author, who is averse to any revelation
of his private life. In spite of this, the
book is charming reading, and gives
considerable information concerning
Mr. Kipling — his early journalistic life,
his religion, the purpose of his poems,
anecdotes, etc. The writer of this
volume is a brother of Mark Twain,
aod consequently is able to give some
George N. Morang & Co., Toronto,
have just issued two striking volumes
by two Englishmen : "The United
States of Europe on the Eve of the
Parliament of Peace," with nine maps
and one hundred illustrations, by Wil-
liam T. Stead, and "The Amateur
Cracksman," a collection of short
stories, by E. W, Hornung. The for-
mer volume will, undoubtedly, be as
much, talked of as any of the author's
other sensational books. One signifi-
cant feature is the fact that the frontis-
piece is a picture of the Czar, while
there is no portrait of the Queen or the
Prince of Wales in the book. AH the
other European royalties are present.
The Wentworth County (Ont.) His-
torical Society has published its second
volume of transactions. Among the
papers are the following : The Six Na-
tions Indians in the Province of Ontario,
by J. O. Brant-Sero ; Documents Re-
lating to the Battle of Stony Creek ;
A Century of Achievement, by James
H. Coyne ; Niagara on the Canadian
Shore, by the Rev. E. J. Fessenden ;
King William's War, by Miss FiuGib-
bon. In addition there are many minor
articles dealing with the local history
Digitized byGoOgIC
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
of the sectioa. The sMret&ry's address
is J. A. Griffin, Hamiltoa, Oat.
Captain Peter Russell came to Upper
Canada in 1793, was appointed a mem-
ber of the Executive Council, and in
1796 administrator of the Province in
the absence of Governor Simcoe. He
Hi'terwards filled the position of Re-
ceiver-General, and died at York in
1808. He was in the expedition sent
against Charleston in 1779-80, and
kept a diary. Part of this has been
preserved and is now published in the
American Historical Review, in the
form of a contribution from Jas. Bain,
jr., public librarian at Toronto, in
whose possession is the original docu-
ment.
ji
The Bain Book and Stationery Co.,
of Toronto, have secured a few copies
of the 1884 edition of "Old Spooke's
Pass," a collection of poems by Isa-
bella Valancy Crawford, and issued
them in a new binding. This is one
of the few volumes of Canadian verse
which are worth preserving.
T. Fisher Unwin, of London, Eng.,
has issued a very handsome volume on
" Piers Gaveston," by Walter Phelps
Dodge. This book gives a clear pic-
ture of the constitutional development
in the days of Edward I. and Edward
II., besides giving a new estimate of
the character of this noted figure in
English history. Piers Gaveston was
the son of a Gascon knight, a friend
and faithful follower of Edward I.
He was a favourite companion of
Edward II., when he was known as
the first Prince of Wales, and when
Edward became king he became the
king's prime favourite. His desire for
absolute power for himself and his
monarch finally led to his destruction
at the hands of the jealous nobles.
The Vir Publishing Company, of
Philadelphia, for whom William Briggs
is Canadian ^ent, are publishing a
Self and Six series. The. books for
women are written by Mrs. Mary
Wood-Allen, M.D., and the first is en-
titled, " What a Young Girl Ought to
Know. "
The Natural History Society, of
Vienna, has just published "Reisebeo-
bachtungunen aus Canada " (geologi-
cal observations), by Albrecht Penck,
who visited Canada with the British
Association, in 1897. This scholar
has also written a monograph on the
lUecillewaet Glacier in ^e Selkirks.
From his observations and from that
of many persons who have seen both
the Alps and the Rockies, one is almost
forced to the conclusion that the beau-
tiful Rockies will one day be as much
a world-resort as the Alps.
The Neuchatel Geographical Society
(Neuchatel, Switzerland), has published
its eleventh volume. It contains an
elaborate monograph with plates and
illustrations on the geological forma-
tions of " Les Pr&lpes Romandes."
Any person interested in geology will
find this a valuable volume. The lan-
guage used is the French.
The six books which have sold best
in the order of demand ^he past month,
according to the Bain Book and Sta-
tionery Co., Toronto, are : —
1. David Harum, by Westcott. ,
2. Prisoners and Captives, by Mer-
3. The Eye of a God, by W. A* I
Eraser. I
4. Mr. Dooley in Peace and' War,
by Dunne.
5. A Duet with an Occasional Cho-
rus, by Conan Doyle.
6. The Garden of Swords, by Max
Pemberton.
Digitized byGoOgIc
SNAP-SHOTS IN THE WEST.
ECONOMIZING TIME.
'■ "T^HIS here cook I'm s peak! n' about
*■ is a plumb humorous old party.
"Which it's the spring round-up,
an' along about noon we're spilled on
the banks o' the Saiot Mary's for
chuck. When we're throug;h, old
Bunch Grass — that's the cook — packs
up the outfit, for we moves camp this
afternoon along up stream. I've rolled
a cigarette, an' I steps up to the cook
" 'Got a match, Bunch?'
" The old man's fing'ers goes for his
vest pocket, but he pauses an' looks
thoughtful a minute. Then he climbs
to the top o' the chuck-waggon an'
starts in to pitch off his load. Beddin',
tents, grub, kettles — ^ails out on to
the grass. I'm plumb amazed, an' I
looks at him for five minutes like a
locoed steer. I takes it he goes crazy.
" ' Why, whatever be you a-doin'?'
says I at last. ' What's the matter of
you?'
"He stops, aims an amber stream
at a fly on the wheel an' then says with
a slow drawl :
"'Which it's like this,' says this
Bunch Grass party. 'When you re-
quests that match, I suddenly happens
to recall that them combustibles alius
lurks in the last pocket. I got a coat
an' waistcoat in the bottom o' this
wagrgon, an' I reaches down for that
last pocket first an' saved time.'"
AT CUSTER-TBAIL RANCH.
' ' I took a two-dollar chance on a
little bit of a buzzard-head, not higher
than that stone, rafBed for thirty dol-
lars. 1 won him. It cost me five
dollars for drinks. Branded him and
turned him out with the herd Looked
like a frame with a hide hung over iL
" In the spring when the herd came
in he looked like a stall-fed steer. I
didn't know him. He stood on one
side of the corral and the herd on the
other. I thought he'd been run out.
Just then he took a race across the
corral, caught my best mare Jess by
the neck, and hung on. I thought
he'd take a piece.
"Old Tripp was standing by and
asked what I'd take for him.
" ' Thirty dollars.'
"Just then he took hold of another.
" ' Is that the lowest,' said old
Tripp.
" ' Twenty-five.'
" He grabbed a third horse by the
throat, and I thought he'd have his
windpipe.
" ' Take him for twenty,' 1 said. 1
was in a hurry to sell him.
" We traded. The pony had cowed
the herd, and old man Tripp had to
build a separate pasture for him."
A HOT RACE.
"This was down near the Cypress
Hills, when old Sitttn' Bull made that
region his stampin'-ground.
*' Two of his band 'jumped ' us ene
day while we were out hoss-huntin'.
They had Winchesters and cut loose.
" Kid Price's boss was nothin' but a
cayuse ; still, he wasn't quite so bad as
the Sioux ponies. They came after us
a-whoopin' and throwin' the lead our
way. 1 left Price in a minute, but I
held my hoss in and kept lookin' back.
Those bullets sang an ugly sort of a
song ; they made me nervous.
" ' Come on 1 ' I shouted to the kid.
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196
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
"He had his rope doubled and
wound around his hand, and he was
playin' it on the cayuse's ribs, first one
side then the other, as he leaned low
on his neck.
" I rode on a way. Then I looked
back again and waved with my hand.
"'Come on!' I yelled. 'They'll
gel you ! '
" Kid .straightened himself up on his
boss. The rope coQtinued to swing —
*7ohack.' whack.'' — from side to side.
He looked red and hot.
" ' Do 1 look as if I was tryJD* to
throw this race,' he inquired.
" In another five minutes we sighted
Port Walsh, and the chase was over."
IN THE OVERLAND PULLMAN.
Cowboy: "This here's a sleeping-
car, ain't it?"
Porter: "Yes, sab."
Cowboy : " Well, why in thunder
don't you let people sleep, then, when
they've paid and gone into your game P
If you're aiming to keep folks awake,
and want company, just dance into the
next car ; there's lots of folks there
that don't want to sleep, nohow, and
'II be glad to see you."
"Come a-running." (Porter comes
and cowboy hands him a pillow the size
of a pincushion.) "Take that goose-
hair thing away."
" Don't you want a pillow, sab ? "
"That ain't no pillow, and I don't
want it, nohow ; I'm afraid it 'II get in
" Hold on, there, my son — just drop'
them boots 1 "
" I's only gwine to black dem, sah."
"Drop 'em,"
"Just gwine — "
"Just going to pull them spurs, I
reckon. Now, don't monkey around
my camp, takin' things, no more. If
you want anything, speak for it. If
you can't speak, make signs ; and if
you can't make signs,, shake a bush.
You hear me ? "
"Yes, sah."
Bleasdell Cameron.
A TALE OF THREE MAIDS.
Lady making inquiries as to maid's
character — " Did you find her honest?"
Former Mistress— " Honest! She
never took even an order from me I "
"Did you water the ferns in the
drawing-room, Bridget?"
"Ves, Mum. Don't ye hear the
water drippin' on the carpet!"
Mistress — " Did you polish the mir-
rors in the parlour, as I told you before
1 went out, Norah?"
Norah — in a disheartened voice —
"Sure, Ma'm, I've tried them with the
boot brushes ; rubbed them wid the
stove brushes ; gone over 'em wid tbe
furniture polish, and niverabitof shine
can I git on 'cm 1 faith I think if you'd
let me do them my own ould-fashioned
way — ^just washin' 'em, and wipin' 'em
dry wid a rag, they'd be a ^ht
cleaner!"
Alice .tshtoor/A.
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JUL'
INE
THE ADVENTURES OF A PRISONER OF WAR.
Being the Personal Experiences of Lance-Corporal Ellis (tiow Professor Ellis,
of the School of Practical Science of Toronto) in the Fenian Raid
Campaign of 1866.
four next morning for active service on
the frontier.
When the morning' came it was
found that it had been impossible to
warn all the company the previous
night, and I was detuled to look up
the missing ones. We were too late
for the first boat, but followed by a
later one and reached Port Colborne in
the gray of the morning, where we
found the regiment embarked on a
freight train, eating a frugal breakfast
of bread and red herring, which we
arrived too late to share. Starting
from Port Colborne, we soon reached
the village of Ridgeway, where we left
the train, and quickly getting into our
ranks, marched off along the road to
Stevensville, where we expected to join
the column under the command of
Colonel Peacock, of the 16th Regi-
ment. Our force consisted of the
Queen's Own, the r3th Battalion of
Hamilton, and the York and Caledonia
volunteers, in all about S40 men, under
command of Lieutenant-Colonel Book-
er, of the 13th.
We marched along the Ridge road
for about two miles, the Queen's Own
leading. No. 5 Company formed the
advance guard. This company had just
been supplied with Spencer repeating
rifles. The rest of the force were arm-
ed with muzzle-loading En fie Ids. Just
T^HROUGHOUT the winter of 1865-
*^ 66 we in Canada had heard rum-
ours of an intended Fenian invasion,
and measures had been taken to meet
it. The volunteers were called out for
active service. There were in Toronto
daily parades, and on the banks and
Government buildings sentries were
nightly posted, partly from the i6th
Regiment, then quartered here, and
partly from the Queen's Own and 10th,
now the Royal Grenadiers, who fur-
nished a guard on alternate nights.
No, 9 Company of the Queen's Own,
to which I belonged, was then made
up of undergraduates of the Uni-
versity, and the lecture rooms and cor-
ridors were gay with uniforms. The
winter passed away, however, without
any hostile act, and everyone thought
that the Fenians, if they had ever seri-
ously contemplated a raid, had been
discouraged by the resolute attitude of
the Canadians, and that the danger
had passed ; when, on the last day of
May, the news that the enemy were on
Canadian soil came like a bolt from r.he
blue. About eleven o'clock an the
evening' of that day I was reading for
an examination that was to come off on
the day following, when a knock at my
door announced the entrance of a non-
commissioned ofhcer, bearing the order
to parade at the drill shed at half-past
Digitized byGoOgIC
THE CANADI91N MAGAZINE
as we reached the summit of a gentle
rise, we saw the advance party stand-
ing- with their shakos on the end of
their rifles — a signal which meant " the
enemy is in sight, in force."
From the slight elevation where we
were standing we could see the road
stretching before us for nearly a mile.
Near us were woods, but in front, to
the right and left of the road, were
open fields, bordered on both sides and
at some distance in front by woods. It
was a beautiful day — the trees were
clothed with the tender, delicate foliage
of early summer, and the fields were
green with young crops. From where
we stood we could see nothing of the
enemy, but we saw the advance guard
extend from its centre and push on in
skirmishing order. Nos. i and 2
Company were ordered to move up and
extend on their left and right flanks
respectively, and Nos. 3, 4 and 6 ad-
vanced in support. In a few minutes
puffs of smoke from the skirmishers
and from the woods and fences in
front of them told that the action had
begun.
Before long we heard the whistle of
bullets in the air, and No. 7 Company
was extended to the left in skirmish-
ing order, with No. 8 (Trinity Col-
lege Company) in support. This
brought the University Company to
the front of the column, but we did not
long remain there. We were marched
off to the right, extended, and told to
lie down on a low, pebbly ridge, be-
hind which grew some fine maple trees.
Here we lay for a while, the bullets
singing over our heads, and cutting off
branches from the maple trees. In a
few minutes Major Gillmor came up
and ordered us to clear the woods on
the right from which these bullets
seemed to be coming. We jumped up
and advanced in skirmishing order,
supported by No. 10 Company, the
Highlanders, from whom, however,
we soon became separated in the thick
woods, through which our course at
first lay. After clearing the woods we
came out into an open field. Behind
the fence on the other side of the field
we saw some men kneeling, and puf^
of smoke showed them to be in action.
It was not at first clear whether they
were friends or foes. Some of our
men were about to fire on them, but
Ensign Whitney, who was in com-
mand, called out, " Don't fire, they
may be our own men. Lie down and
wait till I find out." We lay down as
directed, and watched him as he quiet-
ly walked forward for a hundred yards
or so. Then he stopped, took a
leisurely observation through his field
glass, and turning round to us, called
out, cheerfully, "AH right, boys!
They are the enemy. Fire away."
We ran up to him. Till we reached
him he stood watching the enemy, ap-
parently absolutely indifferent to the
bullets that were whistling round him.
We then crossed a road, where the
Fenians had made a barricade of fence
rails, and entered a field of young
wheat, studded at intervals with black
stumps. Here we could see no Fenians,
but from behind fences, and from the
woods in front of us, they kept up a
hot fire. Our advance across this field
was the most exciting part of the fight,
and was conducted in this fashion :
having selected a desirable stump at a
convenient distance in front, we made
a dash for it at full speed, and the
moment we reached it we fell flat on
our stomachs behind it. This was the
signal for a shower of bullets, some of
which whistled over our heads, some
struck the stump, and some threw up
the dust in the field beside us. As
soon as our opponents had emptied
their rifles, we fired at the puffs of
smoke, reloaded, selected another
stump, and so on, da capo. In this
way we crossed the wheat field and en-
tered another wood, through which we
advanced under cover of the trees.
Here we were a good deal annoyed by
the fire of some of our own friends,
who, not knowing our whereabouts,
were firing into the wood from be-
hind us. Sergeant Bryce — now the
Rev. Professor Bryce, of Winnipeg —
had taken post behind a fine, thick
maple tree. Before long it became
doubtful which side of the tree was the
safest, and Bryce settled it by saying,
:y Google
THE ADVENTURES OF A PRISONER OF WAR
" I'd rather be hit before than behind,"
and deliberately placed himself in front
of the tree. Beyond this wood was a
recently-cleared field, and beyond that
another wood in which we could plain-
ly see the Fenians, We had begun to
climb the fence into this cleared field,
and indeed some of us were already
there, when we heard the bugle sound-
ing- the retire. Whitney gave the word
to us, and called back those who had
crossed the fence. When we turned
our backs on the Fenians, we had not
the faintest suspicion of defeat. We
had, up to the moment when we got
the order to retire, steadily driven the
Fenians before us, but we could see
them in greatly superior numbers —
there were only twenty-eight of us. We
knew we had lost touch with our sup-
ports, and we supposed we were mere-
ly falling back to restore communica-
tion with them, Whitney had already
sent back a sergeant to see what had
become of the rest of the command and
to ask for orders, but he had not re-
turned, and we thought the bugle was
a summons to us to rejoin our com-
rades, of whose success no doubts had
entered our minds. All the same we
soon found out the astonishing differ-
ence on the mental, moral and physical
condition of the soldier under fire
which is produced by the simple rota-
tion of his body through an angle of
i8o\ The first sensation was of intense
disgust at having to turn our backs on
the enemy ; the second the acute real-
ization that we had had no breakfast
that morning, and no supper nor sleep
the night before, and that we were
nearly dead beat. Up till that moment
the thought of fatigue had never occur-
red to us, and we had felt as fresh as
paint. Now it seemed as if it was impos-
sibleto dragone leg aftertheother. But
then we felt that it would not do to be
left behind, for there were the Fenians,
Upon them our change of position had
had a precisely opposite effect, and
they followed us cheerfully with much
shooting. When we reached the cross
road a number of us stopped, and
kneeling behind the fence opened a
brisk fire upon the enemy, and for a
time checked their advance. But there
were too many of them and their fire
was too fatal. Mackenzie had fallen
before the retreat began, shot through
the heart, and now others were drop-
ping fast. About this time Tempest
and Newburn were killed, and Vaader-
smissen, Paul, Kingsford and Patter-
son were wounded. In the cross road
Tempest was next to me. Just after
firing a shot he rose to his feet. He
was a very tall fellow, and presented a
conspicuous mark above the fence.
Next moment I heard the sound of a
dull, heavy blow, and saw him fall for-
ward on his face. I ran to his side
and found a small, round hole in his
forehead. He had been shot through
the head, and the bullet, after pene-
trating the brain, had broken the bone
at the back of the skull. Of course he
died instantly. As soon as I saw that
nothing more could be done for him, 1
looked about me and found that I was
alone on the road. A little farther to
the right was a brick house and orch-
ard,, and as this promised better cover
than the open field, I made for it. It
stood at the crossing of this road with
the Ridge road, along which we had
been marching before the fight, and
when I' reached it I saw a body of
troops in the orchard, which, from
their dark clothes, I took to be the
Queen's Own. I hastened to join them,
hut they turned out to be a column of
Fenians, who saluted me with a volley.
An attempt to fire my rifle proved that
it was empty, and while in the act of
reloading I was surrounded and made
prisoner. I was placed in the brick
house, under chargeof a guard. As soon
as I was there, the fatigue, which had
been forgotten during the stand in the
road, returned with redoubled force,
and I lay down on a mattress com-
pletely exhausted. After a while, how-
ever, a Fenian came in, bleeding freely
from a wound in the ankle. I roused
up and tied it up with a bandage torn
from a sheet. My success in this sim-
ple, surgical operation at once estab-
lished cordial relations between myself
and my captors. They got me a drink
of water, which greatly refreshed me.
Digitized by Google
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
and we smoked a social pipe together.
Presently a mounted officer rode up
and ordered us to proceed to the front.
We set off, a Fenian, with bayonet
fixed, marching on each side of me.
The sight of the killed and wounded
whom we passed lying in the dusty
road beneath the blazing June sun, was
sad indeed. At a roadside tavern,
called the " Smugglers' Home," we
halted, and here I found Private junor,
of the University Company, in his shirt
sleeves, carrying a pail of water for the
wounded, several of whom, among
them Ensign Fahey, of the Queen's
Own, and Lieutenant Routh, of the
13th, were lying on the floor of the
bar-room. After a few words with
them we were again ordered to march.
Junor and two other prisoners, one of
Trinity College Company, and one
of the 13th, were added to our party.
At my request, Junor and I were allow-
ed to walk together. At the village
of Ridgeway we found the Fenians rest-
ing after the fight. Their conduct was
perfectly orderly. There was no plun-
dering, though the village was entirely
at their mercy. A coloured man, who
attempted to steal some articles from
the store, was stopped by an oflicer,
who placed a revolver at his head and
sternly ordered him out, threatening to
blow his brains out if he caught him
there again. There was a tavern in
the village, but not a man touched a
drop of liquor. They told me that
their orders were strict against
drinking, and against stealing any-
thing, except food and horses. These
orders, I can testify from personal ob-
servation, were rigidly obeyed. They
gave me half a loaf of bread, which
was very welcome, and after about an
hour's rest we fell in again, and turn-
ing our backs on Ridgeway, set out in
retreat for Fort Erie, along the Garri-
The Fenians' treatment of myself
and the other prisoners was kind and
considerate in the extreme. The day
was hot, and the road dusty. The
Fenians observed the most perfect
discipline. At intervals, when we came
to a wayside house, they asked for
water, and on these occasions they al-
ways gave us the first drink. Ooe
woman in response to their request for
water brought out a pail of buttermilk,
which they handed to me. That drink
of buttermilk will always live in my
memory as the most delicious draught
I ever had. Our guards conversed
with us, by the way, in the most
friendly manner, and took us freely
into their confidence. They thought
that the Canadian people would gladly
welcome them as deliverers, and they
thought that the regular troops would
not fight against them. " Quay bee' H
be the hardest nut for us to crack,"
said one of them. " Sure, the French
'11 burn that for us," cheerfully rejoin-
ed his comrade. Their uniform consist-
ed of a green shirt, with brass buttons,
dark trousers, a black, soft felt hat,
with wide brim. Overtheirshirts they
wore dark civilian coats which served
the purpose of overcoats, and which
had been used to conceal their uniform
before crossing the river. Itwas owing
to this fact that the general impression
prevailed that the Fenians were not in
uniform. Most of the superior officers
wore the dress proper to the rank they
had held in the American army during
the Civil War. The officer command-
ing our escort, who had the commis-
sion of Captain in the army of the Irish
Republic, was a striking-looking figure.
He was about fifty years of age, with
a long, iron-grey beard. He had
served as a sergeant in the Southern
army during the war, and had walked
all the way from Tennessee to take
part in the raid, joining the Fenians
just in time for the battle. He wore
his old regulation kepi, a long black
frock coat, with a belt outside, in which
was stuck a sword without a scabbard.
He was full of enthusiasm for the cause
of Ireland, and of fierce hatred against
the English. But to us, whom the for-
tune of war had made his prisoners,
his conduct was all gentleness and
bonhomie.
Towards evening we neared Fort
Erie, and a mounted officer came up to
us with the order, " Prisoners and bag--
gage to the rear J " We were halted
:y Google
THE ADVENTURES OF A PRISONER OF WAR
203
at the roadside and allowed all the
column to pass us. The escort, who
knew from this order that another fight
was expected, became greatly excited,
and cursed the ill-luck which condemn-
ed them to inactivity. Thanks to their
eag^eruess to see what was going on,
I had an excellent opportunity of watch-
ing the action that followed ; for as soon
as the troops had all marched past,
they led us up to a plateau, where
we had a clear view of the whole affair.
The road here slopes down between
high banks to the river. One division
of the Fenians continued their march
down this road till it reached another
road, which runs along the river bank.
Here they turned to the left and march-
ed straight for the village of Fort Erie,
which we could pl^nly see, with the
Stars and Stripes flying from the house
of the American Consul. Across the
river was the town of Black Rock, and
there the shore was crowded with spec-
tators. Another division of the Fenians
left the road where we were, and ad-
vanced in line across the fields in a
direction parallel to that of the column
which was marching by the river road.
The high banks soon hid the river col-
umn from our sight, but in a short
time the report of musketry told us that
it had gone into action. Who the de-
fenders were or what their strength
was, we did not then know ; but we
afterwards learned that fifty-four men
of the Weltand Field Battery, acting
as infantry, and eighteen men of the
Dunnville Naval Company, were hold-
ing the place. For a while the firing
was kept up smartly, but all this time
the second division was marching across
the fields above the town, and now
ihey wheeled to the right and thus took
the defenders on the flank. They ad-
vanced rapidly, firing as they went. In
the village there was at first a continu-
ous roar of musketry, which gradually
slackened. There were a few dropping
shots which soon ceased altogether.
The smoke drifted away ; and Fort
Erie was in the hands of the enemy.
The result of the conflict was hailed
with shouts of triumph from the crowds
of spectators at Black Rock,
We were then marched down to the
river side. Here we met General O'-
Neil, the Fenian Commander. He told
us that his men were old soldiers and
knew how to treat prisoners, and that
we should have no cause to complain,
unless any of his men were hanged by
the Canadians, in which case he pro-
mised he would shoot ten of us for
every Fenian hanged. He then stop-
ped at a roadside tavern and ordered a
glass of beer for each of us. for which
he paid. We were then marched to-
gether with a number of the Welland
Field Battery, who had been taken
prisoners at Fort Erie, to the old Fort,
which is a ruin standing on the river
bank. Tlie Fenians established guards,
lit fires, and set about cooking their
supper. To each of us they gave a
slice of raw pork, a biscuit, aud a drink
of water.
The day had been hot. The night
was clear and very cold, too cold for
much sleep. About two o'clock In the
morning we were aroused and marched
down to the wharf. There we saw a
large body of Fenians in the act of em-
barking on a great scow. When the
last man embarked, O'Neil told us we
were free. He then shook hands, and
said good-bye, adding that he would be
back soon with a larger force. I told
him he would find us better prepared
next time ; and so ended my adven-
tures as a Prisoner of War.
Wm. Hodgson Ellis.
Digitized byGoOgIC
DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY.
II— THE PURGATORIO.
By Professor WUltam Clark.
THE comparison of one work of art
with another is never quite profit-
able, althoug;h it is sometimes almost
unavoidable. It has been largely prac-
ticed in connection with the different
parts of Dante's great poem. To a
large class of readers the Inferno seems
to make a special appeal ; to others
the Paradiso. We believe, however,
that in personal and religious interest,
no part of the poem comes nearer to
human experience than the Purgatorio.
As has already been remarked, the
Inferno is a hollow inverted cone, the
passage of which becomes more diffi-
cult as we descend. The Purgatorio
is a mountain thrust out from the earth
by the formation of the Inferno within ;
and on this the ascent ever grows
easier. Both are places of suffering;
but the one has the suffering of hope-
less misery which hardens and destroys,
the other the suffering of hope and joy,
which purifies, elevates and prepares
for a better and higher life. The rea-
son in each case is plain. The one is
a state of impenitence and unbelief
which shuts out every gracious influ-
ence ; the other a state of lowliness,
penitence and love which opens the
soul to every higher power. In the
Inferno we see the operation and con-
sequences of different forms of evil : in
the Purgatorio the principle of sin is
purged away.
There are nine circles in both, and
both have a vestibule; but in the In-
ferno it is not reckoned one of the nine
cnrcles. It is so reckoned in the Pur-
gatorio. Another difference should be
noted. The division in the Inferno is
a circle {cerchio) : in the Purgatorio it
is a terrace or cornice [baiao, precipice).
The circles are concentric: the ascent
in the Pui^atorto is by a spiral path.
In the vestibule of the Purgatorio
are those who delayed their repentance
to the last. On the summit of the
mountain is the earthly paradise, lost
in Adam, recovered by the second
Adam, and entered by those who have
passed through cleansing fires. Be-
tween those two extremes are seven
terraces in which the seven cardinal
sins are cleansed away. There is an-
other difference. In descending throu^jh
the Inferno we find the sins become
more heinous: in ascending the mount
of purification they become lighter.
For example, sensuality is the first sin
punished in the Inferno: it is the last
cleansed in the Purgatorio. Instead
of the horrid Charon, the ferryman of
hetl, there is an angel in a boat with
no other sail than the angel's wings.
The opening lines of the poem de-
clare the change which has taken place :
" O'er better waves to speed her rapid course
The light bark of my genius lifts the sail.
Well pleased to leave so cruel sea behind j
And of that second regin. will I sing
In which the human ipirit from sinful bloi
Is purged, and for ascent to heaven prepares."
All is changed. We have passed from
darkness to light, from fierce hurricanes
to gentle gales, from pestilential va-
pours to pure and fragrant air. Be-
ginning at the shore of humility, we
pass into the vestibule,* lying at the
base of the mountain, inhabited by the
negligent, who have delayed their re-
pentance until the hour of death, and
are detained there for a season before
entering Purgatory proper.
In this there are seven terraces or
cornices rising above each other,
reached by a spiral path, in which the
seven cardinal sins are purged. These
sins are arranged in an inverse order,
•So far the subiecl occupies the first 8
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DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY
and differ to some extent from those
in the Inferno. There they began with
incontinence and ended with fraud.
Here they begin with pride, the root of
all sin, and end with incontinence. The
seven sins of the Purgatorio arc of two
classes, with one intermediate between
them. The first class consists of sins
agfainst love: i. pride, 3. envy, 3. anger;
the other are sins of misdirected love:
5. avarice and prodigality, 6. gluttony
and drunkenness, 7. incontinence. Be-
tween these two classes lies a remark-
able form of evil, Acidia ( 'anr/dia ) ,
gfenerally translated Sloth, in books of
devotion, etymologic ally signifying in-
difference. "Languid indifference"
would probably be as good as any other
rendering. Beyond these terraces rises
the earthly paradise.
The first thing that caught Dante's
eye was the Southern Cross, a constel-
lation of four stars (1. 34) symbolizing
the four cardinal virtues, wisdom,
courage, temperance and justice.
Afterwards three stars are seen (viii.
90), representing the theological vir-
tues or Christian graces, faith, hope
and love, all together making up the
seven virtues of the Schoolmen.
Next they see an old man, Cato
(i. 31), the highest embodiment of
merely human morality, the four stars
shining on his face. Cato had told
Virgil to bind Dante with a tender
reed in token of humility, the starting-
point of all evangelical goodness ; and
to bathe and cleanse his face, which had
been soiled an^ disfigured by the
smoke of hell. As the sun rises, the
poet, looking across the sea, beholds
a light approaching swiftly and grow-
ing brighter as it approaches. The
brightness takes the form of wings.
It is the angel of God, the heavenly
ferryman, with the bark in which he
conveys passengers to Purgatory
(ii. 28).
Many souls are in the boat ; they are
being conducted by the angel from
the estuary of the Tiber (Rome) to the
Mount of Purification. Coming to the
vestibule, already mentioned, they find
four classes who have delayed repent-
ance : I. Those dying excommunicate
but contrite. 2. Those presuming on
God's mercyand delaying their repent-
ance till death. 3. The negligent of
the same class who died by violence.
4. Those who, through preoccupation
of political cares, delayed repentance.
These arc punished by periods of deten-
tion in the vestibule before being
allowed to enter Purgatory proper.
Dante falls asleep, and is conveyed by
S.Lucy (prevenient Grace), the illumin-
ator, to the gate of Purgatory proper,
which is entered by three steps, the
first of white marble, in which the face
is reflected, signifying self-examination
and self-knowledge ; the second burnt
and cracked, signifying contrition ;
and the third of porphyry, signifying
the fervent purpose of good, passing
into love. An angel is seated on the
highest step, who, with the blunt point
of his sword, imprints the letter P
(Peccatum = sin), seven times on
Dante's brow, signifying the' seven
cardinal sins from which men are
cleansed in Purgatory. As Dante
passes from stage to stage one P after
another is removed from his brow.
I. The first of the terraces or cor-
nices {daiei) is occupied by the proud
(ix-xiij. Pride, the principle of self-
idolatry, the principle which makes
self and not God the principle of all
things, is the deepest root of every
form of moral evil. It means the same
which modern moralists designate as
selfishness. At the back of the ter-
race a high cliff of white marble rises,
sculptured with stories of humility in
bas-relief, designed for the instruction
of the penitents. First comes the
beautiful story of the Annunciation
(x. 31) followed by others conveying
the same lesson.
The proud are chastened by having
to march along bowed to the earth by
great weights. They have assumed
much, and they are made to feel the
weight of it. They are bent so low
that Dante could hardly recognize the
human form in them. But this is the
cure as well as the punishment of pride.
If he that exalteth himself must be
abased, it is equally true that those
who humble themselves under the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
mighty hand of God, He will exalt in
due time.
The proud repeat the Lord's Prayer,
in the form of a paraphrase which con-
stitutes an admirable exposition of the
prayer (xi. 1-24). Then illustrations are
givenof the differentforms of pride: pride
of birth, pride of art and intellect, am-
bition and the love of popularity. There
are no purse-proud people mentioned ;
althougfh that form of pride could hard-
ly have been unknown in those days.
Dante is now cleansed of pride, the
angfel brushing his brow with his wing
and obliterating the first of the seven
P's, As they go up they hear voices
singing, " Blessed are the poor in
spirit ;" and the poet, lightened by the
cleansing, ascends to the next terrace
with ease.
2. In the second terrace the sin of
Envy is purged (xiii. and xiv.). Just
as in the first there were representa-
tives of examples of humility for the
instruction of the proud, so now, as
they pass along, they hear invisible
spirits singing songs commending the
exercise of love to friend and foe. In
the one case pictorial art is introduced
as an instrument of moral instruction
and progress, in the other case music.
Soon they come upon a number of per-
sons, " Shadows with garments dark
as was the rock. " They are sufferers,
clad in sackcloth, leaning on each other
and on the cliff, bhnded by a piece of
wire passing through the eyeball.
Blindness is, at once, a cause and an
effect of envy. Virgil consoles them
with the hope of vision hereafter. A
beautiful passage, beginning, " Even-
ing was there, and here the moon of
night," (xv. 6), should be noted. They
now ascend the mount and hear the
chant, "Beat! mjsericordes " (blessed
are the merciful) and the second P. is
effaced.
Before leaving, Dante is anxious to
understand one element in the condem-
nation of envy, namely, that the wider
distribution of good does not take from
those who possess, but adds to their
happiness ; good distributed enriches
the many without taking from the few
(xv, 106). Virgil replies ;
" The highest good
Unlimited, ineffable, doth so speed
To love, as beam to lucid body darts.
Giving Ets much of ardour as it finds. . . .
So th&t the more aspirants to that bliss
Are multiplied, more good is there to love,
And more is loved ; as mirrors thut reflect,
Each unto other, propagated light."
3. lliey are now approaching the
cornice of the wrathful. As the poets
go on, they become gradually envel-
oped in a fog which slowly gathers
round them, so that Dante needs, like
a blind man, to be led by Virgil. On
the way they encounter examples of
meekness, for instance, Mary and
Joseph finding Jesus in the temple, and
Stephen praying for his murderers.
The sufferers are praying to the Lamb
of God, as the embodiment of divine
meekness. Among the wrathful they
find Marco Lombard!, who explains
that the evil which exists is not the
fruit of nature or of necessity, but is
the result of man's perversion of his
freedom. The deplorable condition of
Italy he accounts for largely by the
confusion of the temporal and spiritual
powers, and he seems chiefly to blame
the papal see (xvi. 100). At last the
angel's wing touches his brow, and
another letter is effaced, while the
" Beat! pacifici" (blessed are the peace-
makers) sounds in his ears.
4. The fourth sin in order — lying be-
tween the two great classes of sin — is
that oiAcidia {'axTjSia), generally trans-
lated in devotional works as Sloth,
etymologically signifying indifference.
A good translation of it would probab-
ly be "languid indifference." It sig-
nifies lukewarmness, lack of zeal, and
sluggishness in good works. As al-
ready pointed out, this vice stands
midway between the two groups of
three on either side ot it. The first
three — pride, envy and anger — are sins
against love. The last three — avarice,
gluttony and incontinence — are forms
of misplaced or exaggerated love, seek-
ing happiness in early things, using
them either unlawfully or excessively.
Virgil declares that this sin of indiffer-
' ence arises from defect of love. In a
very interesting passage (xvii. 90) he
points out that love is the principle of
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DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY
307
all action, and so is the source of g'ood
and evil. It is the germ, he says,
"Of each virtue in ye,
And of each acl. aa less, that merits pain."
The subject is pursued at great
length, and much high and mystical
conversation follows on the nature of
love and the good {xviii.). The love
of the good, Virgil says, is innate, and
therefore is in itself neither reprehensi-
ble Dor meritorious. Love finds its full
rest in the possession of the good. But
there is danger of counterfeited good
being sought, Instead of the true good ;
and it is the business of conscience to
select an object — -to adjust the motives
to the will — so as to further the su-
preme good of the Spirit. This selec-
tion determines the moral character of
our actions (xviii. 62).
Soon they are overtaken by a crowd
(xviii. 96). Two of these recite ex-
amples of zeal guided by love, like
"Blessed Mary," who "sought with
haste the hilly region," while, at this
mention,
" ' O tarry not, away,'
The others shouted ; ' let not time be lost
Through slackness of affection. Hearty leal
To serve reanimates celestial grace.' "
It is remarkable of the Purgatorio, as
distinguished from the Inferno and
Faradtso, that Dante is frequently fall-
ing into slumber. Various explanations
have been attempted. Perhaps it may
be intended to remind us that the whole
is a vision ; or perhaps to suggest that,
ia the process of purification, we are in
danger of falling into a lethargy from
which we need to be aroused by the
ag'ents of Grace. Perhaps it may be
meant to recognize the office of repose
in effort " So He giveth His beloved
sleep."
5. They next come to the sphere in
ivhich Avarice and Prodigality are
purged — the two extremes of excess
and defect in spending, the mean being
liberality. As they pass onwards to
this terrace, they hear voices singing :
" Beati qui lugent" (blessed are they
that mourn], and another letter is blot-
ted out. On entering this department,
Dante sees
"A race on the ground
All downward lying prone and weeping aore.
' My soul hath cleaved to the dust,' I heard
With sighs so deep they wellnigh choked the
vice, but those in whom the regenerate
life has been hindered and depressed by
love of money, and who are now get-
ting purged from this evil. Among
them was Hadrian the Fifth, who was
Pope for only one month, and during
that time learnt ' ' at once the dream
and cozenage of life " (xix. 105). Next
follow illustrious examples of poverty
sung by the spirit of Hugh Capet, who
laments the errors in respect of money
committed by many of his royal de-
scendants. At the end of his recitation
the mountain trembles, and voices on
all sides sing "Gloria in excelsis Deo. "
It is the rejoicing at the purification of
a soul.
Here (sxi. 9) they are joined by
Statins, author of the Thebaid, who
had been converted to Christianity, but
had not confessed it before he died, and
therefore has a longer period in Purga-
tory. He tells Dante how much he
owes to the Mantuan, not knowing that
Virgil is present. The mutual delight
of the poets follows the recognition.
Statius is said to be the moral power
inherent in genius, perhaps we might
say, regenerate and purified genius as
distinguished from heathen genius in
Virgil. The latter expressed his sur-
prise that Statius, " midst such ample
store of wisdom," should be found
among the avaricious. Statius, "some-
what moved to laughter," said that
Virgil's words were "a dear pledge of
love." Avarice was not his fault. On
the contrary, he was "too wide of
avarice " ; his fault was prodigality.
The fifth letter is now brushed from
Dante's brow, whilst the angelic chorus
sing out : " Beati esurientes " (blessed
are they that do hunger and thirst after
righteousness). And so they pass on
to tile sixth terrace.
6. The sin here purged is that of
Overeating or Gluttony (xxii-xxiv)
Soon they come to a tree " with goodly
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
fruitage hung," pleasant to the smell,
and watered by a crystal stream. But
the penitents are forbidden to taste it.
From its leaves a voice is heard (xxiij
■39):
" Mary took more thought
For joy and honour of Ihe nuptial feast
Than for herself, who answers now for you.
The women of old Rome were satisfied
With water for their beverage, Daniel fed
On pulse, and wisdom gained."
As Dante turned away from the tree,
he heard a sound of weeping, and a
prayer: "My lips, O Lord," It came
from a crowd of spirits whose eyes
were "dark and hollow," and "pale
their visage." T^ese are gluttons
doing penance by fasting. They are
praying that those lips and tongues,
once given to gluttony, may now be
attuned to utter the praises of God.
While the odour from the tree provokes
their appetite, they gladly bear the
pangs of hunger, which bring solace
rather than pain.
By-and-by they come to another tree,
grown from a shoot taken from the tree
of Knowledge. The penitents gently
long for the fruit of this tree ; but are
told that their wish cannot be granted
until they have passed through the
water of Lethe (Forgetfulness) and
entered the terrestrial Paradise. Per-
fected knowledge comes as the result
of our discipline. Another letter is now
effaced by the angel, who points the
way to the seventh cornice.
7. The seventh terrace contains the
Incontinent (xxv.-xxvi.) The transition
is described (xxiv. ad fin.) in some
beautiful lines, beginning :
" As when, (o harbinger Ihe dawn, springs up
On freshened wing the air of May, etc."
We have already remarked in Dante
the union of tolerance and severity.
We note it here also. Carnal sin is
the first in the Inferno and the last in
the Purgatorio, and it is the most com-
mon of all. Yet Dante knew, as
Burns knew and declared, " it hardens
all within, and petrifies the feeling; " and
therefore he passes the incontinent
through fires so fierce that, he says :
" I would have cast me into molten glass
To cool me, when I entered ; so intense
Raged the conflagrant mass." (xxvii. 94.)
Dante had hesitated to enter the
flame until he was told that he was still
separated from Beatrice, which acted
like a charm, so that he immediately
formed the resolve just expressed. To
comfort him in passing through the
fire Virgil spoke of Beatrice ; and as
they mount the stairs, they hear voices
singing, "Come, ye blessed of My
Father," and so they pass upwards.
On the way he falls asleep, and in a
dream sees Leah and Rachel, repre-
sentatives of the active and the con-
templative life, reminding us that life
must not only be purified, but also
nourished by positive processes, activity
and contemplation.
Virgil now takes leave of Dante,
saying that he no longer needs his
guidance. Human reason and consci*
ence have done their work. "To dis-
trust thy sense henceforth," says Vir-
gil, "were error," This purged eye
can now behold the spiritual world as
it is. Dante is now purged from his
ignorance and weakness and ascends
to the top of the mountain of purifica-
tion, where is the earthly Paradise.
As he passes onwards his way lies
across a wood through which a crystal
stream is flowing. It is Lethe inwhich
the remembrance of sins is to be
effaced and moral freedom restored.
On the opposite side he sees :
Was all o'er painted." (xxviii. 41.)
This was Matilda, the symbol of
Christian doctrine and the Divine min-
istry. She explains to him the meaning
of Lethe, the river of the forgetfulness
of evil, and Eunoe, the river of the re-
membrance of good, which have a
common source.
As the church alone can restore men
to the Paradise forfeited by Adam and
Eve, the church now appears under
the form of a triumphal chariot, drawn
by the mystic Gryphon, half lion and
half eagle, representing the Divine-
human Lord of the church. In the
chariot is seated Beatrice, representing-
divine wisdom and grace. Three vir-
gins are on her right, the theological
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DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY
virtues, and four on her left, the moral
virtues. Four and twenty elders,
crowned with lilies, go before, repre-
sentiog the Old Testament. Behind
the car come the four mystical creatures
of Ezekiel, representing the four evan-
gelists. Others follow of no certain
meaning ; but it is plain that they are
the teachers of the church. On the
other side of the stream is Beatrice
(xxx. 53), who bids him not weep at
the loss of Virgil, but prepare to feel
the edge of another sword, her re-
proaches. Shame covers his face, re-
membering what he had himself con-
fessed in the Vita Nuova. Suddenly
the angels sing : "In Thee O Lord,
have 1 trusted," and Dante is melted,
weeps, and confesses his errors of the
past. He then finds himself crossing
the water of Lethe, borne up by Matil-
da, . who causes him to drink of the
water of oblivion. He is then given
into the hands of the seven nymphs
(cardinal virtues).
Dante is now able to contemplate the
past history and future destinies of the
church. The car is fastened to the
Tree of Knowledge, which represents
the Empire. Beatrice (Divine Grace)
remains near the chariot with her seven
virgins, bearing seven lights (the seven
gifts of the Holy Ghost). An eagle re-
presents the violence to which the
church is exposed. Then a fox, gaunt
and hungry, steals inside the car, re-
presenting Heresy. Next, a dragon
tears away a portion of the framework
of the car, representing schisms. Then
comes the eagle again, representing
secular power. Next the harlot, show-
ing the church in unlawful union with
the world. The giant stands for
France, and the removal of the chariot
into the forest symbolizes the removal
of the papal chair to Avignon. But
Beatrice predicts the coming of a de-
liverer who will restore all things.
Then Matilda leads Dante to the river
Eunoe, that his cure, may be complete.
Matilda, whatever may he the histori-
cal reference, stands here for the Divine
ministry, and its two functions of abso-
lution and edification. Thus evil is doae
away and good made permanent.
The Purgatorio, says Dean Plump-
tre, has an autobiographic character
which does not attach to the other
two parts of the great poem. The In-
ferno goes to the depths of sin and
misery — depths of which all men are
capable, but which such a writer could
contemplate only as apart from him-
self. The Paradiso rises to the glory
which is to be revealed and realized in
the future — the object of hope and de-
sire. The Purgatorio brings us face to
face with the real struggle of the re-
generate man. In Dante, or in any
other representative of the class under-
going purification, there will be special
and personal traits, but the general
characteristics of the poem are univer-
sal. We may speak of the Purgatorio
as the confessions of Dante, and in this
respect it is not unworthy to be put
alongside the work of the great Bishop
of Hippo.
In these poems we have traces of
the studies of Dante. In the Inferno
we meet with much which he has de-
rived from Virgil. In the Paradiso we
see the influence of S. Thomas Aquinas.
In the Purgatorio we discern the influ-
ence of the devotional books of the
church, and the hymns occurring in
the offices are frequently quoted.
Not only so, but we follow, in the
successive parts of the Commedia, the
steps of the poet's life. We trace the
different phases of his inner- man— from
a sense of evil to confession, and then
to resolve, and so on to love and effort
and purity. Such is the way of the
righteous — the path of the just which
shineth more and more unto the perfect
day. The way of the cross is the way
of life. We die daily that we may
truly live. We are crucified together
with Christ, yet we also live in Him.
The way of purification is a way of suf-
fering. Through much tribulation we
must enter into the Kingdom.
(To be concluded next month.)
Digitized byGoOgIC
HOW THE FRENCH CAPTURED FORT NELSON.
By Beckles WilUon.
Note.— In the May and June numbers Mr. Willson describes the founding of York
Factory, Ihe Exploits of Radisson and Groseilliers, and some later events in Ihe life of the
former of these two bushrangers. The events here described happened at a later dale, but
this piece of the history of " The Great Company " shows how intense was the rivalry of the
French and the Engli^ traders even in those northern regions. These three articles on The
" ■ ' ~ " e advanced chapters from Mr. Willson's forth-coming book.
Hudson's Bay Co. a
T^HE French prisoners captured in
*■ the Hudson's Bay Company's ex-.
pedition of 1696 suffered an incarcera-
tion of nearly four tnonths duration
at Portsmouth. Hardly had their liberty
been regained than they boarded a
French brig bound for Havre, and on
arrival in Paris, lost little time in mak-
ing known the condition of aifairs at
Hudson's Bay. Louis and his Minis-
ters, gazing upon this emaciated band
of traders and bushrangers, could
hardly refrain from immediate action
to retrieve the situation. Precisely fol-
lowing the tactics of their enemy in
the previous year, they engaged four
men-of-war; which fleet was despatch-
ed to join Iberville, then at the port
of Placentia, in Newfoundland. The
Court was well aware that there was
no one man so thoroughly equipped at
all points in knowledge of the bay,
and the conditions there of life and
warfare, as this hero. Consequently,
although numerous enough, all other
offers to lead the expedition were re-
jected.
On the arrival of the French ships
at Placentia, Iberville took command,
embarking in the Pelican, of fifty guns.
The others were the Palmier, the
Weesph, the Pn/ond, and the Violent.
But Fort Nelson was not to be cap-
tured without a struggle.
At almost the very moment the
French fleet sailed, there departed
from Plymouth four of the Company's
ships, the Hampshire, the Hudson's
Bay, the Dering, and Owner's Love,
a fire-ship, the two former having
been participants in the conquest of
the previous year. The Company's
fleet entered the straits Only forty hours
before the ships of the French ; and
like them -was much impeded by the
ice, which was unusually troublesome.
Passage was made by the enemy in the
English wake. The Profond, com-
manded by Duque, pushed past the
currents, taking a northerly course,
which brought her commander irito full
view of two of the Company's ships.
Shots were exchanged, but owing to
the difficulties engendered by the ice,
it was impossible to manceuvre with
such certainty as to cut off the French-
man's escape. While this skirmish
was in progress, Iberville in the
Pelican succeeded in getting past the
English unknown to them, and reached
the mouth of the Nelson River in sight
of the fort. His presence, as may be
imagined, greatly surprised and dis-
turbed the Governor and the Com-
pany's servants ; for they had believed
their own ships would have arrived in
season to prevent the enemy from en-
tering the straits. Several rounds of
shot were fired as a signal, in the
hope that a response would be made by
the Company's ships, which they ex-
pected hourly in that quarter.
In his turn the French commander
was equally disturbed by the non-arri-
val of his three consorts, which the ex-
igencies of the voyage had obliged htm
to abandon. Two days passed in a
state of suspense. At daybreak on
the fifth of September three ships*
were distinctly visible ; both parties
•The fourth, the fire-ship Chener' s Love, was
never more heard of. It is supposed that,
separated from the others, she ran into Ihe
ice and was sunk, with all on board.
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HOW THE FRENCH CAPTURED FORT NELSON
joyfully believed they were their own.
So certain was Iberville, that he im-
mediately raised anchor and started to
join the new-comers. He was soon
undeceived, but the perception of his
mistake in no way daunted him.
The Company's commanders were
not prepared either for the daring or
the fury ofthe Frenchman's onslaught.
It is true the Pelican was much super-
ior to any of their own craft singly,
beingmanned by nearly twohundredand
fifty men, and boasting forty-four pieces
of cannon. The Company's ships lined
up, the Hampshire in front, the Dering
next, with the Hudson's Bay bringing
up the rear.
The combatants being now in close
proximity, the battle began at half-past
nine in the morning. The French
commander came straight for the
Hampshire, whose captain, believing
it was his design to board, instantly
lowered his mainsheet and put up his
fore-top-saiL Contact having been by
these means narrowly evaded, the
battle suddenly shifted between the
Pelican and the Dering, whose main-
sail was smitten with a terrific volley.
At the same time the Hudson's Bay,
veering, received a damaging broad-
side. The Company's men could dis-
tinctly hear the orders shouted by
d'Iberville to both ships to discharge
a musket fire into the Dennis fore-
castle, but in this he was anticipated
by the English sailors, who poured a
storm of bullets in upon the French-
man, accompanied by a broadside of
grape, which wrought havoc with the
sails. While the cries of the wounded
on the Pelican could be distinctly heard,
all three of the Company's ships open-
ed fire, with the design of disabling
her rigging. But one of them, the
Hudson's Bay, seeing that it could not
engage the Pelican, owing to Iber-
ville's tactics, determined to run in
front of her and give her the benefit of
a constant hull fire, besides taking the
wind from her sails. Iberville ob-
served the movement ; the two Eng-
lish vessels were near, he veered
around, and, by a superb piece of sea-
manship, came so near to the Hamp-
shire that the crew of the latter saw
that boarding was intended. Every
man flew out on the main deck, with
his pistol and cutlass, and a terrific
broadside of grape on the part of the
Englishman alone saved him.
The battle raged hotter and fiercer.
The Hampshire's salvation had been
only temporary ; at the end of three
hours and a half she began to sink,
with all sails set. When this occurred,
Iberville had ninety men wounded,
forty being struck by a single broad-
side. Notwithstanding this, he decid-
ed at once to push matters with the
Hampshire's companions, although the
Pelican was in a badly damaged state,
especially the forecastle, which was a
mass of splinters.
The enemy made at once for the
Dering, which, besides being the small-
est ship, had suffered severely. She
crowded on all sail and avoided an en-
counter, and Iberville being in no
condition to prosecute the chase, soon
returned to the Hudson's Bay, which
surrendered. Iberville was not des-
tined, however, to reap much advan-
tage from his prize, the Hampshire.
The English flag-ship was unable to
render any assistance to the sinking
Hampshire, which soon went down
with nearly all on board.*
To render the situation more dis-
tressing, DO sooner had some ninety
prisoners been made, than a storm
arose ; so that it became out of the
question. to approach the shore with
design of landing. They were without
a long-boat and each attempt to launch
canoes in the boiling surf was attended
with failure.
Nightfellj the wind instead of calm-
ing, grew fiercer. The sea became
truly terrible, seeking, seemingly, with
with all its power to drive the Pelican
and the Hudson's Bay upon the coast.
The rudders of each ship broke ; the
'Thus was concluded what was, in the opin-
ion of the best authorities, French and Eng'-
lish, one of the fiercest and bloodiest battles
ofthe war.
"Toule la Marine de Rochefort croient que
ce combat a etc un des plus rudes de cette
Guerre," says La Patherie.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
tide rose and there seemed no hope for
the crews whose destiny was so cruel.
Their only hope In the midst of the
bitter blast and clouds of snow which
environed them, lay in the strength of
their cables. Soon after nine o'clock
the Hudson's Bay and its anchor parted
with a shock.
" Instantly," says one of the surviv-
ers, " a piercing; cry went up from our
forecastle. The wounded and dead
lay heaped up, with so little separation
one from the other that silence and
moans alone distinguished them. All
were icy cold, and covered with blood.
They had told us the anchor would
hold ; and we dreaded being washed
upon the shore stilf the next morning."
A huge wave broke over the main
deck and the ship rocked desperately.
Two hours later the keel was heard to
split, and the ship was hurled rudder-
less to and fro in the trough of the sea.
By the French account, matters were
in no more enviable state aboard the
Pelican ; Iberville, however, amidst
scenes rivalling those just described,
did his best to animate his officers and
men with a spirit equalling his own.
" It is better," he cried, " to die, if
-we must, outside the bastions of Fort
Bourbon than to perish here like pent
sheep on board. "
When morning broke, it was seen
by the French that their ship was not
yet submerged, and it was resolved to
disembark by such means as lay in
their power. The Company's servant's
were more fortunate. The Hudson's
Bay had drifted eight miles to the south
of the fort, and was wrecked on abank
of icy marshland, which at least con-
strained them to wade no deeper than
their knees. The French, however,
were forced to make their way through
the icy water submerged to their necks,
from the results of which terrible ex-
posure no fewer than eighteen marines
and seamen lost their lives. Once on
shore they could not, like the English,
look forward to a place of refuge and
appease their hunger with provisions
and drink. They were obliged, in their
shivering, half frozen state, to subsist
upon moss and seaweed, but for which
indifferent nourishment they must in-
evitably have perished.
The Company's garrison witnessed
the calamities which were overtaking
the French, but not knowing how great
their number, and assured of their hos-
tility, did not attempt any acts of mer-
cy. They perceived the enemy camped
in a wood, less than two leagues dis-
tant, where, building several lai^e
fires, they sought to restore their spirits
by means of warmth and hot draughts
of boiled herbs.
While the fort was being continually
recruitedby survivors of the two wreck-
ed ships, the other three French vessels
had arrived on the scene. The fourth,
the Violent, lay at the bottom of the
bay, having been sunk by the ice. The
Palmier had suffered the loss of her
helm, but was fortunate in not being
also a victim of the storm. The French
forces being now united, little time was
lost by Iberville in making active pre-
parations for the attack upon the fort.
On the nth, the enemy attained a
small wood, almost under the guns of
the fort, and having entrenched them-
selves, lit numerous fires and made con-
siderable noise in order to lend the
impression to the English that an en-
trenchment was being thrown up.
This ruse was successful, for the Gov-
ernor gave orders to fire in that direc-
tion. Iberville seized this opportun-
ity to effect a landing of all his men
and armaments from the ships.
The fort would now soon be hemmed
in on all sides, and it were indeed
strange if a chance shot or firebrand
did not ignite the timbers, and the
powder magazine were not exploded.
Governor Bailey was holding a council
of his advisers when one of the French
prisoners in the fort gave notice of the
approach of a messenger bearing a
flag of truce. He was recognized as
Martigny, The Governor permitted
his advance, and sent a factor to meet
him and insist upon his eyes being
bandaged before he would be permitted
to enter. Martigny was conducted to
where the council was sitting and
there delivered Iberville's message, de-
manding surrender. He was instantly
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HOW THE FRENCH CAPTURED FORT NELSON
313
intemipted by Captain Smith send,
who, with a great show of passion,
asked the emissary if it were not true
that Iberville had been killed in the
action. In spite of Martiguy's denials,
Smithsend loudly persisted in believing'
in Iberville's death ; that the French
were in sore straits, and only made
the present attack because no other
alternative was offered to desperate
men to obtain food and shelter. Bailey
allowed himself to be influenced by
Smithsend, and declined to yield to any
of Martigny's demands. The latter
returned, and the French instantly set
up a battery near the fort, and con-
tinued, amidst a hail of bullets, the
work of landing their damaged stores
and armaments. Stragglers from the
wreck of the Hudson's Bay continued all
day to find their way to the fort, but
several reached it only to be shot down
in mistake by the cannon and muskets
of their own men. On the 12th, after
a hot skirmish, fatal to both sides, the
Governor was again requested, this
time by S^rigny, to yield up the fort
to superior numbers.
" If you refuse we will set fire to the
place, and accord you no quarter."
" Set fire and be d -d to you !"
responded Bailey.
He then set to work, with Smith-
send, whose treatment at the hands of
the French in the affair of the Merchant
of Perpetuana was still vividly before
htm, to animate the garrison.
"Go for them, you dogs!" cried
Bailey. "Give it to them hot and
heavy ; I promise you forty pounds
apiece for your widows ! "
Fighting in those days was attended
by fearful mortality, and the paucity of
■ pensions to the hero's family, perhaps
made the offer seem handsome. At
any rate it seemed a sufficient incen-
tive to the Company's men, who fought
like demons.*
A continual fire of guns and mortars
as well as of muskets was kept up.
' The Canadians sallied out upon a num-
ber of skirmishes, filling the air with a
frightful din, borrowing from the Iro-
quois their piercing war-cries. In one
of these sallies St. Martin, one of their
bravest men, perished.
Under protection of a flag of truce,
S^rigny came again to demand a sur*
render. It was the last time, he said,
the request would be preferred. A
general assault had been resolved upon
by the enemy, who were at their last
resort, living like beasts in the wood,
feeding on moss, and to whom no ex-
tremity could be odious were it but an
exchange for their present condition.
They were resolved upon carrying the
fort, even at the point of the bayonet
and over heaps of their slain.
Bailey now decided to yield. He
sent Morrison to carry the terms of
capitulation, in which he demanded all
the peltries in the fort belonging to the
Hudson's Bay Company. This demand
being rejected by the enemy, Bailey
later in the evening sent Henry Kelsey
with a proposition to retain a portion
of their armament ; this also was re-
fused. There was now nothing for
it but to surrender, Iberville having
granted an evacuation with bag and
baggage.
At one o'clock on the following day,.
therefore, the evacuation took place.
Bailey, at the head of his garrison and
a number of the crew of the wrecked
Hudson's Bay and six survivors of the
Hampshire, marched forth from Fort
York with drums beating, flag flying,
and with arms and baggage. They
hardly knew whither they were to go,
or what fate awaited them. A vast and
inhospitable region greeted their eyes,
and a winter long to be remembered
had begun. But to the French it
seemed as if their spirits were undaunt-
ed, and they set forth bravely.
The enemy watched the retreat of
the defeated garrison not without ad-
miration, and for the moment specula-
tion was rife as to their fate. But it
was only for the moment. Too rejoic-
ed to contemplate anything but the ter-
mination of their own sufferings, the
Canadians hastened to enter the tort,
headed by Boisbriant, late an ensign in
the service of the Compagnie du Nord.
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214 ^^^ CANADIAN MAGAZINE
The fieur de lis was flung' to the air ; Note. — The Company was debarred from
shouts for King Louis drowned the *">■ *"empt at reconquesl, because of the
J 1.^,-rT -ijT^. treaty lust concluded at Kyswick. which
drum-beats of the vanquished; Fort yleld^ihe territory which had been the scene
Nelson was once more in the hands of so much commerce, action and bloodshed
of the French. to the subjects of the Most Christian King.
o
THE CRY OF THE OUTLANDER.
(Dedicated to our Smothers in South Africa. J
r^ OD wrote on the face of the Briton,
^^ " True to my brother I stand " ;
But the men who sit in council
Hide the sig'n with the silver han,d.
And the brother that's yoked with the oxen
Calls Briton to Briton in vain ;
For the men who sit in council
Must reek of the worldly gain.
Fight first, is the law of the Briton,
Then ask for the help you need :
But the men who sit in council
Of the blood take little heed.
Ye have fought in the outlands, brothers ;
Ye have bled, not wise but well ;
Shall the men who sit in council
Keep ye in a living hell ?
The cry of the outlawed brother
Thunders across the sea ;
And the men who sit in council
Must act, or cease to be.
W. A. Fraser.
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WORKandWORKERS i"
RURAL ENGLAND.
BY CLIFTON JOHNSON.
T^NGLAND is a land of large towns
*-' and great manufactories. Sodense
is the population that it is said the
crops raised on the farms each year
would not feed the inhabitants over
three months. From this one might
fancy that the towns liad overspread
most of the island and that all the
country there was left would be hardly
more rural than village suburbs. But
in reality the towns are only the plums
in the pudding, not the substance.
They are minor interruptions to an
endless roll of cultivated fields and
grazing lands sweeping from John o'
Groat's to Land's End.
Even London, vast as it is, does not
reach out so very far, after all. You
step on a train at any of the metropol-
itan stations and go in whatever direc-
tion you please, and it does not take
many minutes to get beyond the paved
ways and the crowded buildings to
the quiet greenery of the country. Nor
do the towns, in spite of their number
and size, have any very marked influ-
ence on the country people and their
ways. One would think they would
exert a decided leavening power over
the rustic life that would modernize it
and cause its cruder elements to disap-
pear. This is not the case. The country
workers of England know far less of
the cities and feel their influence even
less than their fellows here in Canada.
Their instincts are less nomadic. They
live out their lives in the villages where
they were born. A few miles close
around home is often all they see of the
world. They cling to old ways and
are primitive and unchanging to a
degree. As a result, each district
has its dialect and its peculiar local
customs which survive generation after
generation, hut never are transferred
to other regions, not even to those ad-
joining.
The soil of Great Britain is not tilled
by the owners, nor is the tilling to any
considerable extent done under their
supervision. The land is practically
all owned by the gentry, and they rent
it to farmers, who take the entire re-
sponsibility of making it return both
them and their landlords a living. The
tenants decide what crops to raise,
they buy and sell, and they keep what
is often quite a little colony of labourers
constantly at work.
The labourers are at the foot of the
215
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
industrial ladder and are so dependent
on their weekly wages that any inter-
ruption which throws them out of work
even temporarily brings direfully close
the possibility of having to go to the
workhouse. Happily things are soar-
ranged that labour on the farms is
steady through the year and a helper
is never laid off on account of either
weather or season.
The daily life of the worker is one of
set hours, which are as definite as those
of an employee in a factory. If a man
works overtime, it is by agreement,
and he gets extra pay.
groomed. This done, the day's work
of the carters and the followers of the
plough is finished.
The soil in some parts is so heavy
that four horses are the rule to each
plough. The ploughman does not in
this case attempt to guide his own
team, but has a boy to walk along be*
side the horses and urge them on. These
boys earn their wages, I think, for they
keep shouting to their teams all the
time, adding emphasis by an occasional
crack of the whip. However, the
shouts and the belabouring with the
lash seem purely matters of form, and
PLOUGHING V
Of all the labourers on a farm, the
ploughmen and carters are the earliest
risers. They have to be up at four
o'clock to feed their horses, though
they are not in the fields to begin work
till half-past six. About the middle of
the afternoon they all return to the
farmhouse, the carters in their carts
and the ploughmen and ploughboys
mounted side-saddle on their horses,
which go clanking along in single file
till they reach the farmyard gate; then
the riders slide off, and their horses
with those that are released from the
carls tramp on to their stables, where
tbev are unharnessed and fed and
the horses step along perfectly oblivi-
ous to them, so far as I could see.
In former days much of the heavy
farm work was done with bullocks.
Now, a bullock team is comparatively
rare. Nothing could be rnore pictur-
esque. The oxen, instead of wooden
neck-yokes, wear simple harness made
of broad leather bands, and each crea-
ture has on a pair of great leather
blinders which give it a look truly ante-
diluvian. As it takes four bullocks to
one plough, they with the ploughman
and the ploughboy make a procession
that is quite impressive.
In strange contrast with the slow
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WORK AND WORKERS IN RURAL ENGLAND
bullock teams, so suggestive ot an-
tiquity, one is surprised to find that he
cannot travel far in the English coun-
try without seeing in some wide field
a steam plough at work, or a steam
thresher established next a " corn "
rick. Sometimes you meet the en-
gines with all their apparatus in tow
steaming along the highway ; or they
will come rattling and panting through
the midst of the village where you
happen to be stopping. They are for-
midable affairs, and it takes five men
to make a working crew.
Every farm has its flock of sheep.
In some parts of the country there are
moors and commons and rough up-
lands where the sheep are turned loose
to graze ; but more often they occupy
the ordinary farm fields. Many far-
mers keep them still further confined
within a basket-work fencing woven
from split hazel. These hurdles, as
they are called, are made in light de-
tachments, that allow them to be readi-
ly moved, and as soon as the sheep
have grazed one space clean, their fence
is transferred toenclose new ground. All
this was explained to me one day by a
shepherd with whom I stopped to talk
as he was at his work in a roadside
field. Then he drifted into personal
reminiscence and said that he had been
brought up to tend sheep. He tried
something else fora while, but it didn't
suit him, and he took up his old work
again. He declared that it was the
" dirtiest, nastiest, hardest " work
there was. None of his eight children
would take it up ; no, nor any other
young people.
"Children goes to school now tilt
they gets to be thirteen or fourteen
years old," he added deprecatingly,
" and they gets cunning, you know."
The shepherd had a dog with him,
but the dog did not know much, and
never would, in his master's opinion, —
he " wa'n't the right kind." But he
" had a dog afore him that was as
sensible as a Christian. Seemed like
he knew just what I said. If there was
some sheep way round that hill you see
there, a mile off, that dog 'd go for
'em, if [ told him to, and I could keep
on with my work, and he'd be comin'
with 'em by and by. 1 never had more'n
to speak to him or make a motion with
my hand, and he'd understand. I had
him ten year, but he died last January.
I wouldn't 'a' felt it so much if I'd lost
one of my children."
A few days later I came on a parly
ot sheep-shearers at work in a barn.
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THE CANADIAX MAGAZINE
The big doors were open, and the men
were snipping away on the barn floor
with their shining shears. The bay on
one !iide was full of panting sheep slill
unsheared. On the other side were
the bundles of fleeces and odds and
ends of farm tools and rubbish. When
a sheep had been relieved of its coat it
was allowed to leap away to its mates
in the near field. The shearers work
in little bands of six or eight men, and
go from farm to farm to do the work
through a season that lasts rather over
a month. At noon they went out
under a tree with their baskets and ate
dinner ; and while they lunched and
gossiped one of them cut a companion's
hair with his sheep-shears.
All the heaviest farm work is done
by men, but the lighter field tasks are
undertaken by women to a considerable
extent, though I believe these are
always intermittent, never continued
week after week the year through. My
first sight of women workers was on
the newly ploughed grounds of early
spring. They were going over the
fields with forks and picking out all the
witch-gra.ss roots. These they piled
in little heaps, which later were burned.
Their working day was seven or eight
hours long, and their pay a shilling.
They were picturesque, but the close
view that showed them to be nearly all
old and stumpy-figured and slouchy in
dress left no room for romance.
Nor were the men workers less rude-
ly rustic than the women. Indeed, it
seemed to me that all the English farm
folk, by the time they reached middle
age, became what we would call " char-
acters." In their looks they grew
knotty and gnarled and earthy ; and
this outward appearance is more or less
typical of their minds. In features the
men are strongly individualized ; no
two are alike — a result in part due to
the many odd and old-fashioned ways
they have of trim-
ming and training
their beards. Cloth-
ing is quaint, and
their heavy footwear
added to their labor-
ious lives makes the
movements of all ex-
cept the
ful
vigorc
seem ungainly.
As the ^
■\ ad-
vances, the
are to be found in
the hop gardens and
in the wheat and hay
fields. Wheat, or
"corn," as it is call-
ed in Britain, is sown
in drills about six
inches apart, and as
soon as it gets well
started, the women
go through it and hoe out the weeds.
In May, when the hop gardens are
bristled all over with bare, newly set
poles, around which the vines are just
beginning to twine, there are pretty-
sure to be two or three women in
every such field " 'op-tying," as they
would say. This consists in fastening
: to the poles so that they will
bes
climb a
wla
on the ground. Most of the women
wear wide brimmed straw hats tied on
with handkerchiefs. Each has a long
bag fastened to her waist, in which
she carries the green rushes that she
uses in tying. They work very deftlv.
,Gooj^le
WORK AND WORKERS IN RURAL ENGLAND
though they keep their tongues going
as fast as their hands.
Once in a visit of mine to a hop
garden, a worker held her tawny arms
out toward me and said, " I s'pose
the women don't get browned and
burned that-a-way in America. But
we've always been at this same work,
and we'll keep right on at it as long as
we've got a breath left."
It seemed to me they were doing
the work with unusual celerity. 1 said
as much, and the women explained
that this was because they were paid
lor the amount they did and not for
their time ; and she added frankly, " If
it were day work, we'd stop that
much to talk the 'ops wouldn't get tied
in all summer."
Just as I was leaving the hop gar-
den I heard a tree crash to the earth
in a near grove, and when 1 turned
aside to learn the cause I found several
men felling oaks. They did this by
sawing off the trunks low down, al-
most level with the ground. The
stumps left were barely six inches high.
Compared with that, the two or three
foot stumps of Canada and the great
gaslies we make in getting our trees
down seem verv wasteful. The oak
bark is sold to tanneries, aad after a
trse was felled ihe men wiih their axes,
billhooks and o:her instruments strip-
ped it off from both trunk and branches
down to limbs not over an inch and a
half in diameter.
The busiest seasons on the farm are
those of the hay, grain and hop hai
vests. Ther
everyone, Jun
ich the I
mployment then for
the haymaking
es have sometimes
labour.
This
Of
specially true when
Ihe early fields are mown near the vil-
lages. On pleasant evenings half the
population is out watching the men
swinging their scythes in the slow fad-
ing light. The children are in the new-
mown grass having a frolic, tumbling
about and gathering up great armfuls
to throw at ea,h other. Their mothers
watch them from over the fence and
laugh at their haps and mishaps. The
little ones get hot and red-faced, and
some are hurt and shed tears, but it is
not easy to induce them to start for
home before the men stop work at
about ten o'clock.
Most of the mowing in the level
regions of England is done with a
machine. Yet there are still many old-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
fashioned farmers who clingf Co the
idea that a machine leaves about as
much as it cuts. Such farmers have
the work done by hand even if the
farm measures half a thousand acres.
The smaller farmers often have no
machine, because they do not feel they
can afford one, considering the amount
they would use it ; and on most
farms there is a certain amount of
land so steep or so much ditched
that machine-cutting is not practical.
The mowing with scythes is done by
gangs of men who go from farm to
farm doing the work. I came across a
party ot mowers one morning eating a
"tenner" (ten o'clock lunch) under a
hedge. In hts basket each man had
half a loaf of bread and a large piece
of cheese, from which he cut off such
lumps as his appetite demanded.
Each man also had a Jug of beer
brought from home, and the party had
collectively a little keg of ale that was
furnished by their
. master. One of the
men went up to the
farmhouse for this at
about nine o'clock
each morning, and
brought it back slung
upon a stick over his
shoulder. The men
after they had dispos-
ed of their bread and
cheese, drank two
glasses each of the ale
from a horn tumbler,
and smoked a pipe of
tobacco in between.
When their half
hour was up they all
whetted their broad
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WORK AND WORKERS IN RURAL ENGLAND
blades and went to norka^ain. They
told me that, in their opinions, mow-
ing machines had had their day, and
were destined everywhere to be more
and more displaced by hand vortc.
Tedders and horse-rakes are much
less common than with us, particularly
the former. Turning and raking are
largely done by hand, usually by the
women, who also roll the hay into tum-
bles.
When the
work in the
hayRelds is
well under
way on a big
farm, the op-
erations take
on a decided
aspect of
bustle. The
most typical
haying scene
of this sort
that I wit-
nessed was in
the broad
waggons, one
always at the
ing' while the
other was in
the field. Two
horses were
hitched tan-
dem to each
waggon, and
a ploughboy '" *" oli>
accompan-
ied each pair to drive them. Two
men were on the load, three pitched
on, and two old men with big rakes
followed the load and g'athered the
scattering. At the rick were two men
unloading, three on the rick receiving
the hay as it was pitched up, and two
or three others getting drinks of beer
out of the bottles in their baskets that
lay under a convenient elm. Two old
fellows with fag-hooks were reaping
the grass left by the machines along
the hedges ; two old women and an
old man were rolling up the windrows,
and a young fellow on a horse-rake
was going leisurely back and forth
across the field. That makes twenty
people. It was a pretty sight — the
busy harvest field among the great,
sturdy English elms, with the ivied
walls and tall chimneys of "the big
house" rising on the slope beyond.
the "Squire,"
the occupant
of the big
house, comes
into the hay-
field and
takes part in
the work. He
gets off his
coat and
pitches on
the hay with
great gusto
for perhaps a
couple of
hours, chaffs
with the men,
drinks beer
with them,
and makes
himself as
companion-
able as pos-
sible. The
men feel that
he is a good
descend to
work on their
level, and it
'ARMHOL'SE. inclines them
faithfully. But it would not do lor the
squire to work every day with them ;
that would lower him at once in their
estimation. The work is beneath him ;
he must do it only for fun.
The term " harvest time," in Eng-
land, means more particularly that part
of summer when the wheat and other
cereals are garnered. There is a repe-
tition then of the busy scenes of hay-
making. After the harvest the farmer
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
turns hi:i pig's out " earshin " in the
stubble lields, where they are allowed
to roam >ix or seven hours each day
till they have picked up all the stray
ears of grain. Often there are sixty
or seveniy pigs in a drove, with a boy
or two along to " mind" them.
Hop-picking begins wiih the first
days of September. But then the blos-
soming bright iie->s of the earlier months
is p.ist, tlie grain is nearly all reaped,
the hay har-
vested, and
the fi<;lds are
bRr^>andsom-
bre. Vet many
flowers still
linger along
the roadsides,
and ihe hed-
ges are enliv-
ened by I he
scarletof hips
and haws.
Thereis much
land recently
ploughed,
and many new
ricks are in
the field cor-
ners, looking
verv tidy with
their roofs of
fre^h thatch
glistening in
the sunlight.
I was eager
to see all that
I could of the
hop harvest ;
and on^ day -grandad hcpini
when I was
passing a hop kiln and noticed smoke
issuing from its squat chimney, I
stopped to investigate. A small door
at one end was open, and I went in,
but I did not slay long. Three men
in the dim interior were feeding the
fires with charcoal and brimstone, and
the air was so sulphurous 1 was glad
to hurry out to escape choking. 1
got little notion of the process of
hop-drying. The men had pointed
to a ladder, and said 1 might go
upstairs but I was already getting
anxious for a change ot air and re-
fused. Besides, they winked at each
other suspiciously, and, I think, had
I gone up, they would have kept me
there till 1 tipped them. At any rate
that is one of the pleasantries that the
hop-drier is privileged to indulge
\\ilhany visitor he can catch in that
way. I asked one of the men who
followed me to the door where 1 could
see the hop-picking, and he said,
"About amile
lo the south."
1 questioned
him whether
I had better
go around by
the road or try
a more direct
way across
lots. The
man replied
in the blufT,
rude manner
that one too
often finds
among the
rural English,
"You've pot
Go there any
way ye. want
to."
1 found the
work in afield
that sloped
down into a
little valley.
takei
do«
as fitst as needed, and the pick-
ers were pulling off the hops into
great baskets. Men, women and chil-
dren were all at work. The old
women and the grandfathers were
there, and so were the babies, tucked
up in blankets and wraps and lying'
quite contented on the ground among-
the shadows of the festooned poles.
It was a pleasant scene there amidst
the greenery — nimble fingers flying,
always the voices calling and the hum
of gossip, the rustic costumes, the
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irO^A* AND WORKERS IN RURAL EACLAND 22T.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
children playing or helping with in-
dustrious clumsiness, and in it all the
rustle of the vines and the wholesome
odour of the hops. It makes a healthy
out-of-doors holiday, and the people
flock from far and near into the hop
regions to enjoy it. When the journey
is short they come in great farm
waggons with all their bags and bag-
gage prepared to cook their own food
and sleep in barns and sheds. They
shout and joke as they go along in
spile of the plodding slowness of the
journey and the apparent discomfort
of the vehicle. The fact that no one
is too young to go is attested by the
presence of one or two baby carriages
dragging along at the rear of the
waggon.
A vast army of hop-pickers come
by train from London at this time.
They are the scum of (he city, a
dilapidated crowd of old and young,
who arrive heavily loaded with their
household goods, and make a very
motley scene at the railroad stations,
bowed with their sacks and baskets.
The wages of a labourer in the poor-
er parts of England are ten or twelve
shillings a week ; while in the more
favoured districts he is paid double that
amount. Work begins in summer at
six o'clock. At eight the labourer
stops half an hour for breakfast, at
ten he eats a luncheon, and at noon
takes an hour to rest and eat dinner.
His work is done at five, when he
trudges home to supper. Just before
he goes to bed he disposes of one
more luncheon, and the day is ended.
A man could hardly live and sup-
port a family on ten or twelve
shillings a week, were it not that in
summer he always has a chance to do
"task work." While this lasts, he
works extra hard and overtime, and
earns six or eight shillings a day. He
will \t.-ty Hkely be out at four in the
morning and keep at it till nine or ten
at night.
The extra wages a man and his wife
make in summer task work are used
to buy shoes and clothing. The ordin-
ary wages are pretty much used up in
paying rent and in buying the daily
necessities of food and drink. The
fare is always rough and poor, and a
couple of pounds or so of bacon is all
the meat a family will eat in a week.
Few make any provision for sickness,
and when sickness
comes the labourer is
compelled to rely on
the parish doctor and
parochial charity.
Yet, in spite of
small earnings, there
are a goodly number
among the labourers
who save money.
With some it is a
blind habit, with oth-
ers it is simply miser-
liness, and with still
others it is ambition.
One does not see
much chance for
hoarding on the
wages received, but
the thrifty are always
on the lookout to
save their pennies.
Persons who receive parish help are
sometimes found to have aconsiderable
sum laid by when they die.
Labourers marry early. The wife
has usually been in domestic service,
and often contributes the larger half
,Gooj^le
WORK AND WORKERS IN RURAL ENGLAND
of the little ready money that is spent
in getting the scanty home furnishings.
Very little is bought in the years that
follow. A replenishing of hlankets
and bed linen, when it takes place, is
quite apt to be from the charities which
are distributed at Christmas time.
It is the rule rather than the excep-
tion that the labourer's cottage is
overcrowded. Even when there are
eight or nine children in a family, there
may be no more than two sleeping
rooms — a condition that is plainly bad
both morally and physically.
One of the most interesting views of
how the labourer lives and how it all
ends, I got one day from a village
shoemaker. My Canadian shoes had
early given out on the gritty English
roads, and to make them once more
serviceable I sought cut this cobbler.
While he worked on the shoes 1 sat
and talked with him. 1 was asking
about the farm workers when the shoe-
maker looked out of the window and
said : "There's a man just goin' past.
He's been workin' from early morning,
ten hours, for his master. Now he's
goin' home to have tea, and work in
his garden awhile, and then he'll be
goin' out again for two or three hours
to help his wife, 'op-tying. He and his
wife has to work all they can to get
along. They couldn't live on their
weekly wages. They has to do task
work to earn something extra, or
they'd have to go to the workhouse.
That man in harvest just slivers into it
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
and works night and day, and the wife
helps. The employers ! — they don't
care whether a man lives or dies, and
if they get a man down they tread on
him. They can do anything to a man
or to his wife or children — and they
does pretty roughish things sometimes
— and the man daren't make any com-
plaini. If he does, come Saturday
night, [here's his wages, and he's not
wanted any more. Then where's he to
go, and where's his next week's food
to come from ?
" Yes, these labourers travel from
hedge to hedge till they are wore out,
and they're so dependent on their
master that some of 'em are afraid to
say their soul's their own. As soon as
they can't do a fair day's work they
are sent to the workhouse. Vou can
depend on 't they don't stay there long
before they're brought home in a little
four-wheel trap, ;ind buried in the
churchyard.
"Thework-
house 's
worse than
the grave, to
the thinking
of a good
many of the
labourers.
There was-
poor old Tom
Christum
that lived
next to the
chapel. He's
dead these
two years
now. He was
gettin' old
and couldn't
support him-
self, but heal'
ways said he
wouldn't go
to the work-
house,— and
hedidn't. The
day they
came to take
himhecuthis
" The treatment 's not overgrand at
the workhouse, and they're not over-
fed there either, and they get no beer
or other liquors. Then the men and
women, except the older people, are
all separated. A man would never see
his wife there, only by chance in the
yard. The preachers say, ' What God
hath joined together, let no man put
ussunder;' but they don't pay much
attention to that saying at the work-
This discourse of the shoemaker's
made me eager to see some paupers
for myself, and a few days later I had
the chance. It was on the occasion
of a picnic given to the workhouse
folk by a gentleman of a neighbouring
village. The paupers numbered
thirty or forty, the men in dark caps
and white smock-frocks, and the
1 blue gowns and while
They were very neat, yet
they had a
bl^ached-out,
broken-down
look, as if
capacity 'and
energy were
pretty well
gone. It was
a look very
dilTerentfrom
the tough,
knotty
brownness of
the old men
still at work
in the fields.
I was told
that one rea-
son for the
antipathy of
the poor to
the work-
house is that
there a per-
pelled tokeep
clean and be
habits. Clean-
liness is a
bugbear, and
,Gooj^le
IVORK AND WORKERS IN RURAL ENGLAND
mon saying when a man is entering
the workhouse, "Well, he won't last
long. They'll soon wash him to death
when he gets there."
The gentleman who entertained
the paupers in his park had them
brought from the workhouse in sev-
eral waggons arched over wiih greens,
and at the foot of his lawn he put up
a big tent in which was spread a
grand feast. After the servants had
served dinner, the old people left the
tent and disposed themselves com-
fortably on the grass and seats under
the trees. Most of the old men gath-
ered in the shade of a great beech,
where tobacco and a basket of clay
pipes were passed around.
The tobacco was a treat. Men in
the workhouse are not allowed to-
bacco unless their age is over seventy.
Even those who have an allowance
are not satisfied, and it is the custom
for visiting friends to bring along a
little tobacco for a present when they
call at the workhouse. As for the old
they complain about their
allowance of tea. They are all very
fond of the teapot by the time they go
to the workhouse, and when friends
call on one of the women paupers
they present her with an ounce of tea,
a little sugar, and possibly a few new-
laid eggs.
While the old people were lounging
and smoking, a red-uniformed band
of music arrived, and spent two
hours playing to the company. The
gentleman who was the patron of the
day joined in the paupers' celebralion
to the extent of lunching with a parly
of friends on the other side of ihe wide
lawn. He thought the old people
would enjoy themselves best if left
alone. They were not at all demon-
stralive — their vitality had ebbed too
low for that ; but in their way they
found it a grand occasion — one to talk
of for weeks afterward. Like all good
things, however, it had to have an end,
and at eight o'clock the paupers were
helped into their green-arboured wag-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Ifons and sent back to the workhouse.
In summing up the labourer's life as
a whole, it cannot be said to lack a
certain cheerfulness and even gaiety,
in spite of hardships and in spite of
the shadow that the workhouse casts
over the elderly and decrepit. Wants
are few and cares sit lightly. It !s
characteristic of the labouring folk that
they live day by day. If they have
work and food and housing now, they
are not apprehensive about the mor-
row. It is people who have much to
lose that worry. Happiness, loo, de-
pends largely on companionship, and
that, both in their daily work and in
their leisure, the English peasantry
never lack. Loneliness is not a fea-
ture of farm life in England, as it too
often is here in America. The village
gossip, the gatherings at the inn tap-
rooms, the services at church and
chapel, and the holidays and gala
occasions furnish constantly recurring
change and relaxation. The lives of
the labourers are far from being empty
and far from being uninteresting to
themselves. Indeed, in my acquaint-
ance with them, I found very few
who had any desire to exchange the
good of which they knew in beautiful
Old England for the affluent uncer-
tainties of our great colony beyond
the .-^eas.
By L. M. Monlgomery.
''PHE fifth heat in the free-for-all was
■^ just over. " Lu-Lu " had won,
and the crowd on the grand stand and
the hangers-on around the track were
cheering themselves hoarse. Clear
through the noisy clamour shrilled a
woman's crx.
"Ah — I have dropped mv score-
A man in front ot her turned.
" I have an extra one, madame.
Will you accept it?"
Her small, modish ty-gloved hand
closed eagerly on it before she lifted
her eyes to his face. Both started con-
vulsively. The man turned very pale,
but the woman's ripe-tinted face col
oured darklv.
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" You ?" she faltered.
His lips parted in the coldly-grave
smile she remembered and hated.
" Vou are not glad to see me," he
said calmly, " but that, 1 suppose, was
not to be expected. I did not come
here to annoy you. This meeting is as
unexpected to me as to you. I had no
suspicion that for the last half-hour 1
had been standing next to my — "
She interrupted him by an imperious
shapeless oddity. The backers of
" Mascot," the rival favourite, looked
gloomy.
The woman noticed nothing of all
this. She was small, very pretty, still
young, and gowned in a quite unmis-
takable way. She studied the man's
profile furtively. He looked older than
when she had seen him last — there
were some silver threads gleaming in
his close-clipped dark hair and short
"She studied the n
9 profile furtively."
gesture. Still clutching the score-card
she half turned from him. Again he
smiled, this time with a tinge of scorn,
and shifted his eyes to the track.
None of the people around them had
noticed the little by-play. All eyes
were on the track, which was being
cleared for the first heat of another
race. The free-for-all horses were
being led away blanketed. The crowd
cheered " Lu-Lu " as she went past, a
pointed beard. Otherwise there was
little change in the quiet features and
somewhat stern grey eyes. She won-
dered if he had cared at all.
They had not met for five years. She
shut her eyes and looked in on her
past. It all came back very vividly.
She had been eighteen when they were
married — a gay, high-spirited girl and
the season's beauty. He was much
older and a quiet, serious student.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Her Triends had wondered why she
married him — someiimesshe wondered
herseir, but she had loved him, or
thought so.
The niarriage had been an unhappy
one. She was fond of society and
gaiety, he wanted quiet and seclusion.
She was impulsive and impatient, he
deliberate and grave. The strong' wills
clashed. After two years of an un-
bearable sort of life ihey had separated
— quietly, and without scandal of any
sort. She had wanted a divorce, but
he would not agree to that, so she had
taken her own independent fortune
and gone back to her own way of life.
In the followini;;: five years she had
succeeded in burying all remembrance
well out of sight. No one knew if she
were satisfied or not ; her world was
charitable to her and she lived a gay
and quite irreproachable life. She
wished that she had not come lo the
It 1
tmg I
hoy loft llie grand stand log-^llier.'
She opened her eyes wearily ;
the dusty track, the flying horses, the
gay dresses of the women on the grand
stand, the cloudless blue sky, the bril-
liant September sunshine, the purple
distances all commingled in a glare that
made her head ache. Before it all she
saw the tall figure by her side, his face
turned from her, watching the track
intently.
She wondered with a vague curiosity
ced him to come to the
ch things were not greatly
:. Evidently their chance
d not disturbed him. It was
he did not care. She sighed
arily and closed her eyes.
heat was over he turned to
ask how you have been
e we met last? Vou are
tremely well. Has Vanity
in any degree?"
■ angry at herself and him.
I her careless society manner
red composure gone? She
lod hysterical. What if she
rst into tears before the
.d — before those coldly crit-
yes ? She almost hated him.
.■hy should it? I have found
isant^ — and I have been well
I. And you?"
d down the score carefully
he replied,
? Oh, a book-worm and re-
ilways leads a placid life. I
never cared for excitement,
you know, I came down
here to attend a sale of
some rare editions, and a
well-meaning friend drag-
ged me oui to see the races.
I find it rather interesting.
I must confess, much more
so thari I should have fan-
. cied. Sorry I can't stay
til the end. 1 must go
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as soon as the free-for-Kll is over, if
not before. 1 have backed 'Mascot;'
you ? "
"'Lu-Lu'" she answered quickly
— it almost seemed defiantly. How
horribly unreal it was — this carrying'
on of small talk, as if they were the
merest of chaoce-met acquaintances I
"She belongs to a friend of mine, so
lam naturally interested."
" She and ' Mascot ' are ties now —
both have won two heats. One more
for either will decide it. This is a
good day for the races. Excuse me."
He leaned over and brushed a scrap
of paper from her g'rey cloak. She
shivered slightly.
"You are cold! This stand is
draughty."
" I am not at all cold, thank you.
What race is this ?-— oh < tke three-
minute one."
She bent forward with assumed in-
terest to watch the scoring. She was
breathing heavily. There were tears
in her eyes — she bit her lips savagely
and glared at the track until they ^vere
gone.
Presently he spoke again, ia the
low, even tone demanded by circum-
stances.
"This is a curious meeting, is it
not? — quite a flavor of romance ! By-
the-way, do you read as many novels
as ever?"
She fancied there was mockery in
his tone. She remembered how very
frivolous he used to consider her novel-
reading. Besides, she resented the
personal tinge. What right had he ?
"Almost as many," she answered
carelessly.
"1 was very intolerant, wasn't I?"
he sfud after a pause. " Vou thought
so— you were right. You have been
happier since you — left me ? "
"Yes," she said defiantly, looking
straight into his eyes.
" And you do not regret it ? "
He bent down a little. His sleeve
brushed against her shoulder. Some-
thing in his face arrested the Answer
she meant to make.
" 1 — I — did not say that," she mur-
■nured fointly.
iET 331
There was a burst of cheering.
The free-for-all horses were being
brought out for the sixth heat. She
turned away to watch them. The
scoring began, and seemed likely to
have no end. She was tired of it all.
It didn't matter a pin to her whether
" Lu-Lu " or " Mascot" won. What
did matter t Had Vanity Fair after all
been a satisfying exchange for love ?
He had loved her once, and they had
been happy at first. She had never
before said, even in her own heart :
" I am sorry," but suddenly she
felt his hand on her shoulder, and
looked up. Their eyes met. He
stooped and said almost in a whisper:
" Will you come back to me?"
"I don't know," she whispered
breathlessly, as one half fascinated.
"We were both to blame— but I
the most. I was too hard on you —
I ought to have made more allowance.
We are wiser now both of us. Come
back to me — my wife."
His tone was cold and his face ex-
pressionless. It was on her lips to cry
out " No," passionately.
But the slender, scholarly hand on
her shoulder was trembling with the
intensity of his repressed emotion.
He did care, then. A wild caprice
flashed into her brain. She sprang
up.
" See," she cried, " they're off now.
This heat will probably decide the race.
If ' Lu-Lu ' wins 1 will not go back to
you, if ' Mascot ' does 1 will. That is
my decision."
He turned paler, but bowed in as-
sent. He knew by bitter experience
how unchangeable her whims were,
how obstinately she clung to even the
most absurd.
She leaned forward breathlessly.
The crowd hung silently on the track.
"Lu-Lu" and "Mascot" were neck
and neck, getting in splendid work.
Half-way round the course "Lu-Lu"
forged half a neck ahead, and her
backers went mad. But one woman
dropped her head in her hands and
dared look no more. One man with
white face and -set lips watched the
track unswervingly.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Ag^ain "Mascot" crawled up, inch
by inch. They were on the home
stretch, they were equal, the cheering
broke out, then silence, then another
terrific burst, shouts, yells and clap-
pings— "Mascot" had won the free-
for-all. In the front row a woman
in the wind. She straightened her
scarlet hat and readjusted her veil un-
steadily. There was a smile on her
lips and tears in her eys. No one
noticed her. A man beside her drew
her hand through his arm in a quiet
proprietary fashion. They left
stood up, swayed and shaken as a leaf grand stand together.
A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES.
A ROMANCE.
By Joanna E. Wood, Author of " The Untempered Wind", "Judith Moore", etc.
DicBST Of Prbvious Chapters.— Sidney Martin, a younff Bostonian, is visiting the
Lansing farm. Mr. Lansing is a widower, but has living with him his daughter Vasfati and
hia niece Mabella, two very charming maidens. Lansing Lansing, a cousin of both these
girls, is in love with sweet, honest Mabella ; while Sidney becomes enamoured of the
proud, stately Vashti. Bui Vashti is in love with her cousin Lansing, or " Lanty," as he
is called, and she is deadly jealousy of Mabella's happiness. In this state of mind she
accepts Sidney's attentions, and ultimately decides to marry him. She makes him pro-
mise, however, that he will never take her away from Dole, the little village close at
hand, and asks bim also to train himself for the position of successor to the Rev. Mr.
Didymus, the present Congregational minister and sole clergyman of the village. Vash-
Ij's idea is that as wife of the minister she will be mistress of Dole with all the power for
which her flinty, worldly soul craves. And when this " Daughter of Witches " so influences
this nature-worshipping young man Ihat he consents to enter the holy profession, she feels
that her hour of vengeance will not be long delayed. Two years allcrwards at the death-
bed of the Rev. Mr. Didymus, Sydney and Vashti are married. Lanty and Mabella had been
niteds.
e previously.
CHAPTER X.
FOR six months Sidney had been
minister of Dole, and already his
people adored him. Never had they
beard such sweet and winning sermons;
never had they realized the beauty antl
tenderness of the gospel, never had
they gone to their church with such
assurance of comfort as they did now.
As Sidney learned to know them
better and better, he was enabled to
comprehend more and more fully the
narrow lives they led, the petty pover-
ties which afflicted them, the sore
struggle it was for most of them to
make ends meet. Swayed by his great
sympathy he sought in Holy Writ for
all the words of comfort, peace, and
promise. He read these passages to
them in a voice which yearned towards
them from his very heart, and then he
would close the Bible and preach to
them lessons of the sweetest and
purest morality, illuminated by illustra-
tions drawn from the fields they tilled,
from the woods, and from the varied
phenomena ot natural life as it was
manifested about them ; his discourses
came to them with a sweet and home-
like sense of comfort. Dumbly and in-
stinctively they loved their barren hills
and meagre meadows with a great
love, and it seemed to them that now
they were being given reasons for the
love which was in them.
If Sidney did not preach Christ he
at least preached His word — and in His
spirit, and the people to whom he
preached never doubted of the chaos
which was in the soul of their teacher.
Their teacher who night and day kept
their joys and sorrows in his heart.
Sidney was walking home through
the powdery snow to the parsonage
when he met Temperance ; her face
was set, and she was evidently in some
distress of mind. One of Sidney's first
pastoral duties had been to marry Tem-
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
333
perance and Nathan. The}' were estab-
lished in the old Lansing house, for
Nathan had rented the farm. Old Mr.
Lansing lived with them.
" Well, Temperance \ " said Sidneyt
" It's an age since I've seen you; how's
everyone with you ? "
"Oh, well,"saidTemperance; "but"
— looking at him shrewdly — "it don't
seem to me that you are over and above
well yourself,"
Sidney laughed carelessly.
"Oh — I'm always well — except for
the headaches, and Vashti cures
them."
" Yes, I'll be bound she does," said
Temperance irascibly. ' ' You ain't got
a mite of sense neither one of you ;
them passes and performances ain't
g'ood for you. I don't believe in 'em,
and for a minister t Sakes I they say
you are an angel in the village ; take
care you don't get to be one."
" Then you have your doubts about
my being angelic ? " said Sidney laugh-
ing.
Temperance coloured but did not
gfive way.
"Men's men," she said; "only
some of them are better nor others,"
then she paused and grew grave and
troubled again.
" You've something worrying you,"
said Sidney kindly ; "what is it!*"
"We!!," said Temperance, " I don't
know if I'm over anxious or not but —
have you heard anything about Lanty
lately ? "
" Yes, 1 did," admitted Sidney, "and
I was terribly sorry to hear it. Do you
^suppose it can be true ? "
" ] don't want to believe it," said
Temperance, two bright red spots
burning on her cheeks ; "but — but —
welt — Nathan was over at Brixton to-
day, and Lanty was there, and he was
— not himself."
" Oh poor Mabella !" said Sidney ;
"I'm so sorry. 1 never dreamt it
could be true. What can be done ? "
"Nothing — that 1 know of," said
Temperance. " M'bella's close as wax
and quite right too, but she's got a
worried look; I can seethrough M'bella,
and as for Lanty, well — it would be a
pretty brave one that would speak to
Lanty — he has a look I "
Sidney was in truth more distressed
than he could say. That Lanty, bold,
bright, honest- hearted Lanty should
give way to intemperance was grievous
Sidney had always entertained a great
admiration for the young countryman,
who was indeed almost the antithesis
of Sidney. The simplicity of his na-
ture was very charming to this supra-
sensitive man who scourged his own
soul with introspective inquisition.
Lanty's calm and careless acceptance
of the facts of life, without question
as to their why and wherefore, his
happy life of work with his wife and
child, seemed to Sidney something to
be admired as very wholesome, if not
envied as being very desirable. That
he should imperil this happiness seem-
ed most tragic to Sidney.
After he parted from Temperance he
walked slowly on.
It was true; Lanty had "a look."
His bold eyes which had once looked
so fearlessly into all the eyes they met
had now changed a little. There was
a kind of piteous challenge in them as
of one who should say to his fellows
"accuse me if you dare." Alas, over-
eager denial is often an admission of
guilt. The tongues had been hissing
his name from house to house for long
in Dole, and gradually the conviction
spread that Lanty Lansing was drink-
ing much and often — and it was true.
It was the direct result of his popu-
larity. He had been going very often
to Brixton during the past year, and
there he had fallen in with a set of
men who drank a great deal ; the coi^n-
try lawyers, an old toper of a doctor,
a banker and two or three idle men
who spent their time in the back rooms
of their friends' offices. Mixed up with
this set Lanty did his drinking unseen;
but alas the effects were very visible.
But strange to say up to this time not
one of the Dole worthies had seen him
drunk.
It would seem that even chance was
constrained to aid Mabella Lansing in
the really heroic efforts she made to
hide her degradation from the censo-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
nous little world about her. That she
and her husband were in any sense di-
visible she never dreamed. Her com-
prehension of the unity of marriage
forbade that. That Laoty could sin
apart from her, or be judged apart
from her, or condemned apart from
her never occurred to her simple loyal
mind. As for turning upon his delin-
quencies the search-light of her right-
eousness ; or posing as a martyr
and bespeaking the pity of her friends
as so many modern wives do — well,
she had none of that treachery in her.
She suffered ail his repentances in her
own proper person and without the
anaesthetic poison which sometimes
numbed him to the pain of his regrets.
At this lime Mabella's little child
was a source of ineffable strength and
solace to its mother. Its yellow head,
so like Lanty's own, brightened the
days he was making so dark. Mabella,
grown afraid to look at the future,
spent many hours contemplating her
baby. Its eyes — like bits of the blue
heaven; the tiny feet whose soles were
yet all uncalloused by the stones of life;
the clinging hands which had as yet let
fall no joy, nor grasped any thorns.—
these were joys unspeakable to this
mother as they have been to so many.
Truly " heaven lies about us in our in-
fancy," and nowand then from the celes-
tial atmosphere about this child a warm
sense of peace, a saving thrill of hope
reached out to the mother's heart. O
wonderful woman heart, which, like
the wholesome maple, gives forth the
more sweetness the more it is pierced !
Her neighbours took up the habit of
vi^ting her frequently. Going early
and staying late, with the laudable in-
tention of forcing themselves into a
confidence denied them.
To see Lanty pass to Brixton was a
signal to start to his house, there to
talk to Mabella until such time as
Lanty returned ; and poor Mabella, all
her old-foshioned wifely fidelity up in
arms, talked to them bravely. They
had sharp ears these mothers in Israel,
but not so sharp as to outstrip Mabel-
la's love-quickened senses.
When Lanty came back she heard
his horse afar — before he came to the
fork in the road even — and making
some simple excuse to her visitor, she
would speed out at the back door, see
him. know if all was well. If his gait
was unsteady and his blue eyes dazed,
she would persuade him to go quietly up
the back way. Happily at such times
he was like wax in her hands. Then
she would return to her visitor with
some little lie about straying turkeys
or depredating cows.
Oh, Eternal Spirit of Truth ! Are
not these lies writ in letters of gold for
our instruction amid the most sacred
precepts ?
Once indeed Lanty did come into the
room where Mrs. Simpson sat. His
eyes were blurred; he swayed a little
and asked loudly for the baby.
'" 1 will find her," said Mabella quiet-
ly, though her heart sickened within
her, and rising she led him from the
" Lanty, dear, you'll go upstairs and
lie down?"
He looked at her white face ; the
truth gradually struggling in upon
him ; without a word he turned and
crept up the back stairs like a beaten
^°% Er°'"Er t<> hide.
Mabella returned to the sitting-room
taking her baby with her ; she felt that
she needed some fount of strength
whilst encountering Mrs. Simpson's
talk. When she entered, Mrs. Simp-
son greeted her with an indescribable
pantomime of pursed-up lips, doleful
eyes, uplifted hands and lugubrious
shakes of the head. Even Mrs. Simp-
son dared not seek in words to break ,
down Mabella's reticence, so baffling
and forbidding was its wifely dignity.
Mabella regarded Mrs. Simpson's
pantomime quietly.
"Are you not feeling well, Mrs.
Simpson?" she asked. "Are you in
pain ? "
Mrs. Simpson arrested her panto-
mime with a jerk, and sitting very erect,
quivering with righteous wrath and
excitement over the exclusive informa-
tion she possessed, she said :
"I'm real welt — I am. I only
thought — but I guess I'm keeping you;
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
235
p'raps you've got other things to do.
Isn't Lanty needin' you ? "
"No," said Mabella, " Lanty is not
needing me. What made you think
that? And I hope you'll stay to tea.
I've just put the kettle forward."
"No — 1 can't stay," said Mrs. Simp-
son. " 1 only caine to visit for a while
and I've stayed and stayed." Mrs.
Simpson had at the moment but one
desire on earth, which was to spread
the news of Lanty's fall.
" 1 sort o' promised to visit Mrs.
Ranger this week. I've visited a
long spell with you now. I guess I'll
be going on. My ! How like her
father that young one do grow I "
"Yes, doesn't sheP" said Mabella,
and the gladness in her voice was un-
feigned.
Miss Simpson took- the goose quill
out of her apron band, in which her
knitting needle rested, and measured
the stocking she was knitting with her
second finger.
" Well ! " she said, " I declare I've
' done a full half finger sence I been set-
tin' here ! This is my visitin' knittio'.
I h^n't done a loop in this stockin'
butwhat's been done in the neighbours'.
I cast it on up to Vashd's. My soul !
I never can come to callio' her nothing
but Vashti, if she be the minister's
wife 1 I cast it on up there, and the
preacher he was real took up with the
three colours of yarn being used at
in one. You have the three threads
once and he sez, sez he: "'Why,
Mrs. Simpson, you're all three fates
in your own hands.' Then he said
to Vashti, ' That would be fittin' work
for you Vashti.' Well, I knowed
Vashti could never manoover them
three threads at once, but I didn't say
oothin', bein' as I thought he was took
up with the stockin' and wanted Vashti
to make him some. Then he told
about some woman named Penellepper
that was great on knittin'. The only
girl 1 ever knowed by that name was
Penellepper Shinar, and she certingly
was a great knitter ; she used to knit
herself open-work white>thread stock-
ings. Well, she came to a fine end
with her vanities \ I wonder if 'twas
her Mr. Martin meant? Folks did
say she was living gay in Boston,
though 'twas said too that she went
fur west somewheres and school-teach-
ed. Suz 1 It would be queer if 'twas
her Mr. Martin meant ! "
"Mr. Martin gets all those stories
out of old books, in learned tongues,"
said Mabella simply. " When he
stayed at the farm he used to tell us
all sorts of stories."
" Women in books is mostly bad
'uos," said Mrs. Simpson, by this time
arrayed in the old crfpe bonnet which
had been bought as mourning for Len,
and which she now wore as second
best. "That holds good even to the
Bible and the newspapers. And as for
a preacher mixing himself up with
them, I don't hold with it. But being
that they're mostly dead it don't mat-
ter so much, and judging from all ac-
counts they was good riddance when
they died. "
What a requiem over the " dear
dead women " to whom so many songs
have been sung !
" How that scented geranium grows!
It beats all," s&id Mrs. Simpson, as
Mabella escorted her to the garden
gate. For anyone to have tet a visit-
or depart alone from the doorstep
would have been a scandal in Dole.
" Won't you have a slip ?" said Ma-
bella, setting down Dorothy and bend-
ing over the plant. "Its apple scent-
ed ; Lanty bought it off a peddler's
waggon over in Brixton in the spring;
it has grown wonderfully."
She broke off a branch, ran for a
bit of paper, put a little ball of earth
round the stem, wrapped it up and
gave It to Mrs. Simpson.
" Well, it's real generous of you to
break it, Mabella ; but you know the
proverb. ' A shared loaf lasts long.' "
" Yes, it's true I'm sure," said Ma-
bella.
She accompanied Mrs. Simpson to
the gate and held up the baby to wave
good-bye.
And Mrs. Simpson sped down the
road with the fleetness of foot which
betokens the news bringer.
She turned at the fork in the road
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
and looked back at the square house
against its background of trees. Ma-
bella was still at the gate with the
yellow-headed baby.
" Well," said Mrs. Simpson to her-
self, " Them L.ansiogs is certainly
most tormented proud I Sich preten-
ces I And would I stay to tea I My t
i wonder Mabella Lansing can look a
body in the face Gradous I She
must think we're a set of dumbheads,
if she thinks every soul in Dole can't
see how things is goin' with Lanty.
- It's the drinkin' uncle coming out clear
in him that's sure. "
Mrs. Simpson arrived at her friend's
house in ample time for tea, and under
the stimulus of excitement made an
excellent repast.
Without criticism upon the Dole
people it must be admitted that a scan-
dal in their midst, such as this, had
much the same exhilaration about it
for them that a camp meeting had.
Mrs. Simpson and Mrs. Ranger
talked over all the ins and outs of the
Lansing family history. It was all
equally well known to each, but after
all, it is an absorbing and amusing
thing to rake over well-hoed ground.
Public opinion had long since been
pronounced upon the events which
these two worthy^ women cited, not
only that, but the grist of diverse opin-
ions had been winnowed by the winds
of time till only the grain of public de-
cision was left.
So that when Mrs. Simpson expressed
her opinion emphatically in regard to
any point, she knew Mrs. Ranger would
agree with her, and, knowing every
link in the chain of events, knew ex-
actly what would be suggested to the
other's memory by her own remark.
But it is a great mistake to think
these conversations devoid of mental
stimulus. It required great adroitness
to prevent the other person from seiz-
ing upon the most dramatic situations
and making them hers.
Then, too, though this was an un-
holy thing, there was always the odd
chance that an opinion, differing from
that pigeon-holed in the Dole memory
as correct, might be advanced, in
this case it was one's bounden duty to
strive by analogy, illustration, and rhe-
toric, to bring the sinner back to the
fold of the majority.
Nor must it be supposed that history
handed down thus, crystallized into
meaningless dictums. The lights and
shadows were forever shifting, and when
any new incident occurred the other
cogent incidents in the chain were in-
stantly magnified and dilated upon,
and' for the time being stood forward
boldly in the foreground of the pedi-
gree under consideration, remaining
the salient points until such time as
some new event shed lustre upon an-
other set of incidents.
In view of the sensation of the mo-
ment, the " drunken uncle " loomed
like an ominous spectre across the long
vistas of the Lansing genealogfy. For
the moment he was regarded as the
direct progenitor of all the Lansings,
although he had died unmarried fifty
years before Lanty's birth.
Mrs. Simpson added another half
finger to her fateful stocking, with its '
triune thread ere she quitted, Mrs-
Ranger's that night.
" Well, I declare," she said, as she
stood on the step in the greyness of
the falling night. "I declare! I
most forgot the slip Mabella gave me.
It's on the bed where my bunnit was,"
she added to little Jimmy Ranger, who
went in search of it. " It's real rare
that generanium is, apple scented —
smell," breaking olTa leaf, pinching it,
andholding it under Mrs. Ranger's nose.
" Come up as soon as you can," she
added, descending the two steps.
"Yes," said Mrs. Ranger, "we're
going to Brixton for the blankets that
have been spun of last year's wool,
next week, and p'raps we'll drop in on
the way home."
"Do," said Mrs. Simpson, "and
you kin stay supper and visit a spell;
our cider'll be made by then. Len's
been over to the cooper about the mill
this week. But if you should hear
anything in the meantime, jest put on
your bunnit and come acrost the fields
neighborly. "
" Yes, I will," said Mrs. Ranger;
,Gooj^le
A DAUGHTER OF W ITCHES
237
" I guess things is comin' to a head; I
wouldn't be surprised any day "
There was a long pause.
"Nor Me," said Mrs. Simpson em-
phatically, "Goodnight."
" Good aight It gets dark real
soon now."
" Yes, there's quite a tang to the air
to-night. It'll be frost in no time."
"Well," soliloquized Mrs. Simpson,
as she betook herself home, " Liz
Ranger thinks just the same's I do ;
that's evident. My sakes ! How
Mabella Lansing can go through with
it is more'n I can figure."
" It's terrible 1" said Mrs. Ranger,
going back leisurely to the house.
" It's downright terrible. I guess
Lanty went on awful to-day. Mrs.
Simpson is jest full of it, but sakes !
I should think she'd kind of talk low
of drinkin' and sich, remembering her
own Len. He was a rip, Len Simp-
son was, if ever there was one! But
that don't seem to he a bridle on Gert
Simpson's tongue. It's enough to
bring a jidgment on to her, the way
she talks. I wonder how Temp'rins
Tribbey '11 like Lanty's goin's on ?"
These reflections of Mrs. Ranger's
upon Mrs. Simpson were no doubt
edifying, but certainly she had carried
on the conversation with quite as great
a gusto as Mrs. Simpson. And if she
had not enjoyed it as much it was only
because Mrs. Simpson, being a re-
doubtable conversationalist, had filched
the finest morsels of the retrospective
talk for herself, it was therefore prob-
ably more a sense of wounded amour
propre than genuine condemnation of
Mrs. Simpson which led her to criticize
the latter's conversational methods.
Mrs. Ranger had an uneasy and un-
satisfactory idea that she had merely
given Mrs. Simpson her cues,
Mabella made strong coffee that
night for supper instead of tea. She
dressed Dorothy in the beribboned
dress that Sidney had sent from Bos
ton. She talked cheerily and brightly
to her husband. She rose from her
place and came round with his cup and
put it beside him, letting one hand fall
with a passing but loving touch upon
his shoulder as she did so. But she
did not look at his face once during all
the time of supper. She dreaded to
see the crown of shame upon the brow
of her king. For herein again Ma-
bella showed the steadfastness of her
adherence to her husband. She suff-
ered because he suffered. It was not
the fear of the scandal that would
arise, it was not the thought of her own
probable future which stung her to the
heart, although these thoughts were
both bitter as wormwood.
It was the knowledge that Lanty,
her Lanty, who was her guide, her
everything, was shamed. It was the
harm he was doing himself that she
deplored, not the reflection of his be-
haviour upon herself.
How many of the women who pro-
claim their own patience and their hus-
band's shortcomings upon the house-
tops think of this ? Not long since a
certain woman, bediamonded and pros-
perous, was demanding sympathy from
her dear half-dozen friends, recounting
to them the derelictions of her hus-
band. "There's only one comfort,"
she said ; " after every break he makes,
he always gives me a handsome pres-
ent. That's always something." Yet
we wonder that there are cynics !
There was no word spoken between
Lanty and Mabella in reference to the
afternoon. But that night in the dark-
ness Lanty suddenly drew her into
his arms.
She laid her cheek against his ; both
faces were wet with tears.
There was poignant apology made
and free, full, loving pardon given all
in that instant.
And Mabella wept out her pain on
his breast.
But the shame and bitterness and
self-contempt ate into Lanty's heart
like a venomous canker
All this had been in the late autumn,
just after the death of old Mr. Didy-
n)us, and now it was spring and all
through the winter Mabella had suffer-
ed, and hoped, and prayed, and des-
paired, and now it had come to this
that Nathan had seen Lanty intoxicat-
ed in Brixton !
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Sidney went back to the parsoDag:e
sorely troubled at heart. Vashti stood
in the doorway.
Her beauty struck him freshly and
vividly. It was his whim that she
should dress in rich and beautiful stuffs,
and Vashti was quite willing to sub-
scribe to it. Dole groaned in spirit at
the spectacle of its minister's wife in
such worldly garb as she wore, but
Dole would have borne much at Sid-
ney's hands.
To-day she was clothed in a softly
draped house-gown of Persian colour-
ing, bound by a great cord girdle about
her waist ; it fell in long classic lines
to her feet. Vashti's face had gained
in majesty and strength since her mar-
riage. She was thinner, but that, in-
stead of making against her beauty,
raised it to a higher plane. There was
a certain luxuriousness in her tempera-
ment which made her rejoice in the
beautiful things with which Sidney sur-
rounded her. She felt instinctively
that she gained in forcefulness and in
individuality from her setting. And,
indeed, she fitted in well amid the
beautiful pictures and hangings with
which Sidney had adorned the enlarged
parsonage. She had always seemed
too stately, too queenly, for her com-
monplace calicoes and cashmeres. Her
mien and stature had made her sur-
roundings seem poor and inadequate.
But in this gem of a house she shone
like a jewel fitly set. Sidney had had
his own way about the primary ar- ,
rangements, and had installed a strong
working woman in the kitchen with
Sally, the ex-native of Blueberry Alley,
as her under-study.
Vashti was perfectly content with
this, and, whilst she knew all Dole was
whispering about her, held upon her
way undisturbed. She had developed,
to Sidney's intense joy, a very decided
taste in the matter of books. Her
mind was precisely of the calibre to
take on a quick and brilliant polish.
She read assiduously, and her percep-
tions were wonderfully acute.
Her beginnings in literary apprecia-
tion were not those of a weakling. Her
mental powers were of such order that
from the first she assimilated and
digested the strong, rich food of the
English classics.
She delighted in verse or prose which
depicted the conflict of passion and
will, of circumstances and human de-
termination. Alas, her education only
made her more determined to gain her
purpose, more contemptuous of the ob-
stacles which opposed her.
And yet, if her purpose had not been
of the most steadfast, she might well
have been discouraged.
Lanty and Mabella seemed so secure-
ly happy. Vashti was, however, gain-
ing an ascendency over her husband
which almost puzzled herself. She had
no comprehension whatever of the na-
ture of the power by which she was
enabled to cause a deep mesmeric
sleep to fall upon him. Nor did she
understand in the least how gradually
but surely she was disintegrating his
will. When his headaches came on
now half a dozen gestures of her wav-
ing hands were sufficient to induce the
hypnoses which brought him forget ful-
ness. Ignorant of the potency of sug-
gestion she often stood watching him
whilst he slept, feeling within her the
striving of her dominant will, as of an
imprisoned spirit striving to burst the
confining bars.
" Come into the study," s^d Sidney,
as he reached her side. " I have some
very bad news. "
" My father? " she said.
"No, Lanty." She blanched to the
tint of the powdery snow. Together
they went to the study, and he told
her.
Her breath came quickly.
Was the longed-for opportunity to
be given into her hands at last?
With all her mental activity she could
not yet guess how Lanty's decadence
might yield her the opportunity she
craved.
But the position of affairs had seem-
ed so barren of hope for her that any
change seemed to make revenge more
So the evil in her leaped and strove
upward like a flame given fresh fuel
and freer air.
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
239
CHAPTER XI.
The fragrant pink arbutus had re-
placed the snow-wreaths upon the hill-
sides, the downy whorls of the first
fern fronds were pushing through the
dark-brown leaves, the fragile hepati-
cas had opened their sweet eyes wide,
when one morning Sidney took the
sloping path which led up the hill over-
looking Dole.
His face was pale and drawn, his
grey eyes half distraught, his slender,
nervous hands clinched as if to hold
fast to some strand of hope, some last
remnant of courage, some crumb of
consolation for that moment when his
soul, utterly bereft, should cry aloud in
desolation.
Sidney Martin preached to his
people sweet and wholesome sermons,
instinct with the hopefulness and char-
ity of one who believes that, " all
things work together for good," and
that " the mute beyond is just," but in
his own soul was chaos.
Always sensible of his personal re-
sponsibility towards his fellows, he had
now become almost morbid upon the
subject.
The old workman had known Sid-
ney better than Sidney had known
himself, and his prophecies were being
fulfilled.
Happy as Sidney was in his hus-
bandhood, yet the possession of Vashti
was not a narcotic strong enough
to stupefy his keen spiritual nature.
Every Sunday before he entered the
pulpit he endured a Gethsemane ; every
time he quitted it he sought the faces
of his people yearningly, pitiably, eager
to be assured that his words had com-
forted them.
He spent all his time thinking of
and for them, and he had won closer
to their hearts than he guessed. They
gave him confidences which had been
withheld from their fellows for years,
and thus let in to the closed chambers
in their humble lives, he was able to
justify himself to Vashti fur the very
lenient way in which he looked upon
their lapses. He sometimes wondered
that their common experiences of pov-
erty and effort did not make them
more considerate in their judgments
upon each other. But they found in
him always a merciful judge. He vis-
ited their homes, he knew their hopes
and fears, he appreciated the pathos of
their narrow ambitions, at which a
less great'hearted man might have
laughed.
He went into the little schooNhouse
frequently, and strove in simple words
to awaken the children to the beauty
about them, to the possibilities of life.
He had great hopes of the children.
Already he had singled out several
^vhom he thought might make scholars.
He promised himself that they should
be given the opportunity.
He had been going to the school
that morning when a little incident
occurred which awakened all his most
poignant doubts of himself, and the
righteousness of his ministry.
Passing by the school-playground,
he had seen some evil words chalked
up in a school-boy hand upon the
board fence. It was like a blow in the
face to Sidney — so eager to instil the
doctrines of sweetness and light into
these children. Why, O why had that
boyish hand traced the symbols to form
that evik idea? It was as if a clear
spring should suddenly cast up mud in-
stead of water.
Sidney effaced the words, but turn-
ed away from the school. The whole
morning was poisoned for him. Poor
Sidney I Doubtless he was supra-sen-
sitive, and yet^why had not the boy
chosen some sweet and beautiful words
to write upon that sunny spring morn-
ing? Surely they would have been
more in keeping with the whole world
as the boy's eyes saw it ?
We may smile at Sidney as he agon-
izes alone upon the hill, but it was by
such vigils as these that he won so
close to the heart of the God in whom
he had no belief.
Sidney wandered about in the woods
upon the hillside till gradually some
little of the peace of the day entered
into his spirit. He gathered a bunch
of arbutus to take home to Vashti.
He encountered no one upon the return
journey but Mr. Simpson, who " pass-
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340
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ed the time of day " mth the miaister,
as he said afterwards, and then pro-
ceeded to try to draw him out regard-
\a% Lanty. It was very easy For
Sidney to parry old Mr. Simpson's
queries, but they made him very un-
easy oevertheless.
Vashti whitened as Sidney related
the circumstances to her.
Could there be anything; new ? she
wondered. Sidney had one of his in-
tense headaches, and, after the mid-
day meal, Vashti proposed to give
him ease from it by putting him into a
sleep.
"You are my good angel, Vashti,"
he said, catching her fingers as she
made the first pass across his forehead,
and kissing them one by one. She
looked down at him, for he lay upon
the green leather couch in the study,
and smiled almost tenderly. His con-
tinual sweetness of temper, his unself-
ishness, his thought fulness, and, above
all, his great adoration for her had
touched her greatly since their mar-
riage. She was too keen an observer,
too clever a woman, not to recognize
that this man was head and shoulders
above the men she had known. She
had moments when she was*enraged
against herself for loving Lanty instead
of her husband, but yet her heart
never wavered in its allegiance to her
yellow-haired cousJn. There was some-
thing in his magnificent physique, his
superabundant energy, his almost ar-
rogant virility, which appealed to her.
Beneath that calm, pale face of hers
were strong passions, sleeping, but
stirring in their sleep at the voice which
did not call them.
Sidney, or Sidney's welfare, would
never weigh with her a featherweight
if balanced against a chance of win-
ning Lanty from her cousin, or of re-
venging herself upon them both, yet
there were times when she wished that
it had been any other man than Sidney
who was bound to her.
" It is you who are good," she
said. "The village people think you
are a saint. "
"Vashti," said Sidney, wistfully.
" Do you think 1 do them good ? "
" Indeed, yes," said Vashti, "just
think how they turn out to church. Its
something wonderful."
Sidney's eyes lighted up with delight
of her praise.
" Oh, Vashti I " he said, "I am so
glad. I often wonder if you are satis-
fied with my work. You know it was
you who ordained me to the priest-
hood."
A slow colour stole into her cheeks.
She waved her hands soothingly above
his brow, then posing two fingers upon
his temples where the pain was, said
gently but imperatively, ' ' sleep, sleep"
and almost immediately, with her name
upon his lips, he closed his eyes and
fell into a deep slumber.
She leaned back in her chair and
looked about the room, so manifestly
the sanctum of a man of taste. The
bookshelves which extended round and
round the room to the height of a man's
shoulder, were filled with books uni-
formly bound in dark green leather.
This was a miracle in Dole, and
Sally was wont to dilate upon the
astonishing circumstance, and marvel
that Mister Martin could find the
one he wanted among so many all
alike. The mere fact of the titles being
different did not appeal to Sally.
Above the bookshelves against a soft
harmonious background were beautiful
etchings froni the paintings Sidney
loved. Millet's peasants, Bume-Jones'
beautiful women, Meissonler's cava-
liers, Rossetti's "Beata Beatrix." Upon
the top of the bookshelves were two
exquisite marbles, the winged Victory
of Samothrace, and the Venus de Milo,
and one bronze — the famous wing-
footed Mercury, slender, lithe, and
seeming ever to sweep on with the
messages' of the gods.
Vashti sat long there, then she
remembered that it was the day of the
sewing circle. The meeting was at
the house of Mrs. Winder that day.
Vashti rose and left the room, she
put on her hat, paused to look at
herself in her glass, and smiled to
think of how the women would whisper,
when her back was turned, about her
Boston gown and her modish hat.
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
241
Vashti rather liked to amaze her
fellow- women. With all her strengfth
of mind there was much femininity
about her, and when it came to prod-
ding up other women she was an adept.
As she passed the open study door
she paused and looked in where her
hustKind lay, sunk in the unconscious-
ness of a hypnotic sleep. For a moment
she had a great desire to awaken him,
but still softened by unwonted tender-
ness she refrained from doing so.
Vashti liked not only to parade her
Boston finery before the sewing circle,
but also her husband.
After all, being the minister's wife in
Dole had charms.
" If I had only told htm to come for
me," she s^d regretfully. "I wish
he would, at five o'clock. I've a mind
to wake him up and ask him." She
hesitated. The light slanted in across
Sidney's face, its pallor shone out
startlingly.
She turned away and ere long was
Rearing Mrs. Winder's. She walked
slowly up the path to the front door.
Sidney often forgot that it was one of
the preacher's privileges to do this, but
Vashti always remembered what was
fitting ; besides she knew the window
of the sitting-room commanded the
little path, and she thought the sewing
circle might just as well be edified by
her progress from the gate as not.
" My ! Vashti is most terrible
cherked up in her dress," said Mrs.
Ranger to Mrs. Winder.
' ' Yes, that gownd must have cost a
lot, but they say 'tis by the preacher's
wish."
*' Who said that ? " asked Mrs.
" Well," said Mrs, Ranger volubly,
" I b^ard that too ; it was Sally, up at
the preacher's, that told young Mary
Shinar, and Mary Shinar told Tom, and
Tom had it over to our Ab at Brixton
a week come Saturday, that the preach-
er draws the patternings for Vashti's
gownds, and colours them himself, and
measures Vashti with a tape line, and
sends the hull thing off to somewheres
in Bosting, and Sally up at the preach-
er's says that when they come from
Bosdng the sleeves and the waist is all
filled full of silk paper to hold 'em in
shape, and that it's like a body in a cof-
fing when the lid is taken off, and — yes,
my turkeys has been laying for a week
now," concluded Mrs. Ranger with an
abrupt change of subject and tone, for
Vashti at that moment entered the
room. Now Vashti herself had ere
now switched off her conversation to a
side track, and when she heard Mrs.
Ranger answering a question which
had not been asked, she smiled in a
manner to make even Mrs. Ranger un-
comfortable.
Vashti had hardly taken her place
before Temperance entered, and pre-
sently the twenty or thirty women were
busy with their needles upon the some-
what formless garments which are sup-
posed to conduce to the salvation of
the heathen, and whilst their needles
were busy their tongues kept pace.
There were many things of import-
ance to be discussed, the health of
Vashti's father (who had had another
stroke), the setting of hens, the finding
of turkeys' nests, house cleaning and
garden making — the springtime in the
country is always a busy time — and
above and beyond all these things there
was a most exciting subject, the down-
fall of a certain Ann Serrup ; of this the
matrons whispered together.
"Has Mr. Martin been over yet?"
asked Mrs. Winder of Vashti, after
trying in several indirect ways to find
out.
"No," said Vashti, "I don't think
he has heard of it. i didn't tell him
and I don't think anyone has."
" If you take my advice," said Tem-
perance, making her needle whistle
through the cotton, " If you take my
advice you'll keep the preacher away
from that mess. He's that soft-hearted
that he's liable to be taken in — besides
it's more likely a woman's help she
needs. Laws, I ofting think of Ann,
all alone. Why don't you go yourself,
Vashti ? "
" 1 have thought of it for a couple of
months," said Vashti. " It's nearly a
year old now isn't it?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Winder proceed-
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343
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
in^ to give data. "Butsakes! Why
couldn't she stay over Brixton way
without coming into our parish with
her brat."
" They have souls," said Vashti,
suddenly drawing the mantle of the
preacher's wife about her.
"Well, one of 'em shouldn't have,"
said Mrs. Ranger irately. "Sakes, I
don't know what girls is coming to ! "
"I expect she didn't have much
chance," said Temperance deprecat-
ingly.
"That's no excuse for sin," said
Vashti austerely.
Temperance sniffed audibly. The
clock struck five, and a footstep sound-
ed upon the porch of the backdoor.
" Run see who that is," said Mrs.
Winder to Jimmy.
The women held their needles sus-
pended midway in the stitch, and Sid-
ney's voice came cheerily from the
kitchen.
"Why lands sake! It's Mr. Mar-
tin and by the kitching too I " said
Mrs. Winder bustling forward to wel-
come him.
He entered gracefully, greeting them
all in his gentle genial way which
seemed to bring him so close to their
hearts; but his eyes sought out Vashti
where she sat half anticipative — half
dreaming of the words he would say.
Somehow it seemed to her that she was
taking part in a scene which had been
rehearsed long since and which grew
slowly into her recollection. Sidney
would say — she thought the words and
Sidney's voice seemed the audible echo
of the phrase, " Vou wanted me to
come at five," he said ; I just woke up
in time ; it was fortunate I did not
forget. Are you going over to see
your father ? "
" Yes," said Vashti rising mechani-
cally, a strange mingling of awe and
exaltation, not unmixed with fear, at
her heart.
" You will excuse my wife if she is
lazy to-day Mrs. Winder," said Sid-
ney laughing, " but I hope you won't
follow her bad example and leave off
before the six o'clock bell ; we must
have full time in the sewing-class t "
There was a general smile at this
mild wit. Minister's jokes are always
highly appreciated.
"What a beautiful view you get
from this window," said Sidney* look-
ing out across to the hill. Mrs. Win-
der saw her opportunity and took iL
"Yes," she said, "but you get a
terrible line view from the window in
the front room — just step in, if you'll
take the trouble," so saying Mrs.
Winder threw open the door of the
sacred front room, revealing all its
glories to Sidney's gaze, and preceding
him with a great assumption of uncon-
sciousness, she rolled up the paper
blind and pointed out of the window.
Sidney looked, and saw almost op-
posite him a new frame barn whose
pine walls showed glaringly and some-
what oppressively in the sun.
" The new barn 'ill be done in two
weeks," said Mrs. Winder as Sidney
turned away ; "you see it lengthways
from here."
"It looks very well," said Sidney
kindly. Then he bade them all good-
bye and departed with Vashti, who was
silently marvelling. This was the first
inkling Vashti had of the force of
" suggestion."
Meanwhile the tongues buzzed in
the company they had left. The women
were conversationally inclined ; excite-
ment is a great stimulant to the flow of
ideas, and certainly this meeting of the
sewing-circle had had its sensation.
Mrs. Winder's boldness in inveigling
the preacher in to see the glories of the
front room had been appreciated at its
full worth. Not one of these dames
but had cherished a secret longing to
show off her front room to Sidney —
but so far he knew only the mundane
comfortableness of the "setting-rooms."
Mrs. Winder had scored largely that
day.
And the meeting was not over.
Mrs. Ranger had been irritated that
afternoon in various ways. Vashti's
smile when she entered had made Mrs.
Ranger uncomfortable.
"Although," as she said to Mrs.
Winder, "what could she expect? My
sakes 1 1 don't care if she did hear
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A DAUGHTER OF WITCHES
243
me! It's all gospel truth and what
can she expect, being the preacher's
wife, but to be talked about? "
What indeed ?
Then, too, Mrs. Ranger felt Mrs.
Winder had indulged in reprehensibly
sharp practice in regard to the front
room — and — but it Is needless to en-
numerate the different irritations which,
combiaed,madeMrs.Rangervenomou5.
She felt she must ease the pressure
upon her patience by giving some one's
character a thorough overhauling ; so
with a side look at Temperance, and a
tightening of her meagre mouth, she
began to speak of Lanty.
Now in Dole, if any subject was
brought up which hurt or pained you,
you were expected to look indifferent,
make no reply, and strive by keeping
a calm front to deny the honour of put-
ting on the shoe when it fitted.
The Spartan boy's heroism has often
been out-done by women who smiled
and smiled whilst venomous tongues
seared their hearts. So Mrs. Ranger
began boldly, as one does who fires
from under cover at an unarmed foe,
But Temperance had been so long
one of the Lansing family that she had
assimilated a little of their "unexpect-
edness," and as Mrs. Ranger continued
her remarks, egged on by acquiescing
nods from the other women, there be-
gan to gather upon the brow of Tem-
perance a deep black cloud.
Mrs. Ranger paused in her harangue
to gather breath for her peroration,
when suddenly the thread of talk was
plucked from her ready lips by the
strident voice of Temperance, who,
rising to her feet, and gathering
her sewing together as she spoke,
proceeded to deliver herself of an
opinion upon the charity of the
women about her. In whatever par-
ticular that opinion erred, it certain*
ly merited praise for its frankness.
After Temperance had indulged in a
few pungent generalizations she nar-
rowed her remarks to Mrs. Ranger's
case. Never in all the annals of Dole
had any woman received such a " set-
ting out" from the tongue of another
as Mrs. Ranger received that day from
(To he continued.)
Temperance. Temperance spoke with
a knowledge of her subject which gave
play to all the eloquence she was cap-
able of ; she discussed and disposed of
Mrs. Ranger's forebears even to the
third generation, and when she allowed
herself finally to speak of Mrs. Ranger
in person, she expressed herself with a
freedom and decision which could only
have been the result of settled opinion.
" As for your tongue Mrs, Ranger,
to my mind, it's a deal like a snake's
tail-^it will keep on moving after the
rest of you is dead."
With which remark Temperance de-
parted from the sewing circle which
had metaphorically squared itself to
resist (he swift onslaught of her invec-
tives ; she gathered her skirts about
her as she passed through the room,
with the air of one fain to avoid con-
tamination, and stepping forth as one
who shakes the dust from off her pru-
nella shoes as a testimony against
those she is leaving, she took the road
home. Temperance's mouth was very
grim, and a hectic spot burned the
sallowness of her cheeks, but she said
to herself as she strode off briskly :
"Well — 1 'spose its onchristian but
its a mighty relief t' have told that Mrs.
Ranger just once what I think of her
— but oh pore Lanty and pore, pore
M'bella ! To think it should come
about like this t "
And the red spots upon her cheeks
were extinguished by bitter tears.
The sewing circle broke up in con-
fusion ; one could only hear a chorus
of "Well— I declare" "It beats all I"
" Did you ever!" as the ladies bundled
their work together — each eager to get
home to spread the news and to dis-
cuss the matter with her husband.
And that night in the starlight Ma-
bella waited at the little gate listening
for the hoof beats of Lanty's horse
from one side, and the cry of little
Dorothy from the house, behind her.
And when Lanty came — alas ! What
"God's glowworms" in the sky re-
vealed, we shall not say.
But we will echo the words of Tem-
perance— "Pore Lanty — pore, pore
M'bella ! "
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BIRDS OF THE GARDEN.
SECOND PAPER.
By C. W. Nash; with Drawings by the Author.
PERHAPS the most sociable of all
our native birds is the chipping
sparrow, which usually makes its ap-
pearance between the tenth and the
fifteenth of April. It may be distin-
guished from all our other summer
sparrows by its small size and brig'ht
chestnut crown, and by its confiding;
g'entle ways. If not harassed by cats
it will frequent the doorsteps and ver-
andahs of our houses, and build its
nest in any ornamental shrub about
the lawn. I once saw a nest placed
among some trailing plants growing
from a hanging basket on a verandah
at a friend's house ; the young were
raised and the old birds visited them
and fed them, without paying the
slightest attention to the people who
might be occupying the verandah at
the time.
Chippy's simple nest structure is
composed of fine roots and grrass,
always lined with horsehair ; in it are
laid four or five pale bluish eggs,
spotted and scrawled over with pur-
plish brown.
These birds remain with us until
about the middle of September, when
they start off on their long journey to
the extreme southern States and Mex-
ico, where they spend the winter.
THE SAPSUCKER.
About the same date as that on
which the chippy arrives, the yellow-
bellied woodpeckers or sapsuckers ap-
pear, and they are generally quite
common about our orchards and gar-
dens for a week or two, after which
the great majority of them drift on
northward. They breed throughout
their range in Ontario, but the bulk of
them resort to the northern forests for
that purpose. This species is worthy
of some attention, because it is owing
to its propensity for boring trees to
obtain the rising sap that more or less
odium has attached to ail the other
woodpeckers, though none of them are
addicted to this practice.
The sapsucker undoubtedly does in
the spring drill small holes in the bark
of trees to obtain the sap which flows
from them, but though I have investi-
gated the matter pretty closely during
the last thirty years, I have never yet
seen any greater harm result to the
tree from the bird's operations than a
slight disfigurement, and that only oc-
casionally. This bird's food consists of
insects which it obtains from the trunk
and larger branches of trees, princi-
pally of those mature insects which re-
sort to such places for the purpose of
hiding in the crevices or depositing
their eggs there. It also eats large
numbers of ants. So that apart from
its sap-drinking proclivities the bird's
usefulness is beyond question, and I
am satisfied that fruit growers and
horticulturists would find it to their in-
terest to protect this and all other
woodpeckers, instead of destroying
ing them, for they form the natural
safeguard against the tree-boring in-
Early in September the sapsuckers
again become abundant in southern On-
tario for a time, and re-visit their springs
haunts, but by the first of October
they have all sought their winter home
which is (for the bulk of them) south
of latitude 37°.
THE MYRTLE WARBLER.
About the twentieth of April the first
myrtle warblers will in all probability
show themselves, and by the twenty-
fifth they will in most seasons have fcie-
come abundant everywhere. They are
readily distinguishable from any other
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BIRDS OF THE GARDEN
345
of the birds frequenting the garden at
this season, by the four clearly marked
yellow patches on their pluma^^e ; the
crown, tail coverts and a patch on
each side of the breast being clear yel-
low, the rest of the upper parts slaty
blue with black streaks, beneath white
with black blotches along the sides.
Some strange movements occasionally
occur amongst these birds, for though
they are usually among the most abun-
dant of all our feathered visitors, there
are seasons when they are conspicuous
by their absence ; in such cases they
have probably gone northward by some
other than their ordinary route. In the
fall, however, 1 have never missed see-
ing them at their proper time or in
their usual number.
After the middle of September they
begin to re-appear, and are soon abun-
dant, and so remain until the frosty
nights of October warn them to work
southward. They winter in abundance
in southern Texas, and great numbers
pass on from there through Mexico to
Central America as far even as Pana-
ma, They are hardy birds, however,
and some winter as far north as the
lower half of the Mississippi Valley,
Xhis species is the most abundant, as
K'ell as the first representative of that
large class of birds known as the war-
blers. Of these we have about thirty
species regularly visiting us in greater
or less abundance every season. Why
they were originally called warblers I
do not know, unless it was because
they, as a class, are possessed of less
musical powers than most other classes
of birds. At any rate but very few of
them are entitled to take any rank
vthatever as songsters, and of these
fewer still ever exhibit their musical
qualities whilst with us. On two or
three occasions I have heard the myr-
tle warbler sing, and 1 am inclined to
think that this species is entitled to be
considered the prima donna or star of
the whole warbler tribe. However, as
there are so many others that I have
never heard sing at all, any of which
could quite easily do better, without
even then being equal to a very ordin-
ary songster, I won't pretend to give
a judgment in the matter. Although
the warblers as a class are not to be
highly commended as song birds, they
certainly are to be admired for the
beauty of their plumage, many of them
being among the most brilliant of our
feathered creatures. Not only are they
beautiful, but they are all of them of
the greatest value from an economic
standpoint. Their food consists
throughout the spring and summer en-
tirely of insects, varied in the fall by
elderberries and other small wild fruits.
Unfortunately very few of them can
properly be called garden birds; the
commoner ones amongst them are
sometimes noticeable for a short time
during their hurried visit in the spring
and again on their more leisurely con-
ducted trip towards the south in the
autumn. The great majority do not
breed with us, and none of them have
any of the nice familiar ways or well-
marked individualities which niake
other birds so interesting about our
premises.
THE CAT-BIRD.
Some fine morning about the twenty-
fifth of April your ears may be saluted
with a drawling " miou," something
like the noise made by a cat that has
been out all night and is now repenting
it. If you look in the direction the
sound seems to come from, you may
possibly see a dark, slate-coloured bird,
but it is also probable that you will see
nothing, and then you may hear the
same note apparently coming from
somewhere else. The sound is uttered
by a cat-bird, and the bird is something
of a ventriloquist. So long as the
bird knows that it is not seen it will
sit openly on a branch and squall at
you, but directly it finds itself observed
it drops into a thicket and hides.
Don't abuse and condemn the cat-bird
too hastily, because it has this hideous
alarm note. It is like some human
beings I know who have one bad habit,
which is sometimes a nuisance, but
who in all other respects are valuable
citizens. The cat-bird has no other
bad propensities, and is in every way
a useful feathered citizen. If there is
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"46
any moderately thick shrubbery about
the garden the cat-birds will be very
likely to decide upon it for their nest-
ing site. They are not very particular
about close concealment if they find
they are not likely to be hara!<sed and
disturbed. Last year a pair built in a
small heap of brush 1 had thrown to-
gether not thirty yards from the back
door of my house, and a pair have a
rest somewhere near me again this
season. The nest is not much more
than a rough platform of twigs lined
with fine roots, and in it are deposited
four or five very beautiful dark bluish-
green eggs.
As a songster the cat-bird is unex-
celled by any of our native birds, the
great variety of its notes and the spirit
and vim with which it utters them are
charming. This particularly applies to
its morning and evening songs, which
are .usually given from the topmost
twig of some tall tree, but it has an-
other softer and even more beautiful
song which it sings at all hours of the
day in the nesting time. This is gen-
erally sung while the bird is hidden in
some bush near where the female is
sitting, and may be intended for her
benefit alone. To hear it you have to
approach very cautiously, for if the
bird hears or sees you the song imme-
diately ceases, and the bird comes to-
wards you with wings drooping and
tail jerking, and promptly overwhelms
you with his cat-like yells so that you
are glad to get away and leave them in
peace.
The cat-bird's food consists princi-
pally of foliage -eating caterpillars with
a sprinkling of beetles and other in-
sects, and occasionally after a rain they
will be seen on the lawn and about the
flower beds hunting for cutworms and
other underground larvae. After the
cherries ripen they will visit them, and
perhaps levy some small toll for their
services, but all they take they have
well earned. After the young have
flown they leave our gardens, and re-
sort to the bush, where they remain in
seclusion during the moulting season.
By the end of September the bulk have
gone on their journey to the south of
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
the southern States, where they spend
the winter,
THE SWALLOWS.
Of the swallow tribe we have five
well-known species in Ontario, viz.,
the white- breasted swallow, purple
martin, barn swallow, clifF swallow
and sand martin; the first four of these
have attached themselves so entirely
to the habitations of men that I sup-
pose I ought to mention them here.
The sand martin h:is still preserved its
independence, and up to now has de-
clined to have anything to do with
men or their "contraptions." The
white-breasted swallow formerly built
its nest in holes in trees, and so did
the purple martin, but now they invari>
ably select a hole or crevice in some
building, or take possession of a bird
house erected for their benefit. From
these places the house sparrow is now
driving them by taking possession dur-
ing the winter whilst the swallows are
away, and persistently remaining in
occupation after their return. If this
continues all over the country the
swallows will perforce be obliged to
again resort to their original nesting'
sites, and we shall lose from about our
houses a most useful class of birds.
The barn swallow plasters its open-
topped mud-constructed nest against
the sides of the bam or under the
porch, or any place that promises safe-
ty and a cover, and has not as yet been
molested to any great extent by the
sparrows, the nest not being quite bl^
enough to suit their purpose. The
cliff swallows build in colonies, and
plaster their curious bottle-shaped
nests against the outside of a barn;
these nests the sparrows rather fancy,
and some colonies have been broken
up by them. This will cause the whole
swallow tribe to leave the vicinity of
our towns where the sparrows con-
gregate most, and we shall not profit by
the exchange, though, as our cities
grow, we should have had to lose the
swallows anyway, and perhaps it is
better to have the house sparrow than
no bird life at all.
:y Google
BIRDS OF THE GARDEN
THE MAGNOLIA WAR-
BLER.
By the tenth of May the
tide of migration is at its
height, the majority of our
various species of warb-
lers will have arrived,
among'st them the well-
known yellow warbler, the
only really friendly one of
the family. It remains in
and about the garden all
through the summer, and
builds its nest near our
bouses, but of this I will
speak next month. Among
the others that will pro-
bably be noticed are the
chestnut - sided warbler,
black- throated blue, black-
throated green, black and
white Blackburnian and
Magnolia warblers ; the
last two of these are cer-
tainly among the most
beautiful of our birds. A
written description of these
graceful little creatures ut-
terly fails to convey any
proper idea of the bril-
liancy of their colouring.
The Blackburnian may,
however, be distinguished
by its black back and
crown, the latter having a
central spot of orange,
while the rest of the head
and the whole throat is a
most vivid orange colour,
underpartsyellowishwhite,
large white wing bars.
The Blackburnians do not
remain very long with us.
By the twenty-fifth of May
they have gone on to the
woods north of us, where
they breed. Early in Sep-
tember they return much
duller in plumage, drift
along with the crowd of
other warblers, and so are
much less noticeable than
when clad in their flaming
spring suit. They winter
south of the southern
States, many going as far
as Central America.
Digitized by Google
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
In the estimation of a great many
people the magnolia warbler equals or
even surpasses the Blackburnian in
brilliancy of colouring. It c6rtainly
has greater variety. Everyone has
his fancy about these things, ;ind 1
prefer the Blackburnian. The illustra-
tion shows the arrangement of the
markings, and the general colouration
is as follows : crown, clear ash bor-
dered by a white stripe running from
the eye to the nape ; below that a
broad black stripi: from the beak to and
joining th.-
black patch
on the back ;
throat, clear
yellow:
back, dark
olive with a
black patch
in the cen-
tre, tail cov-
yellow, large
white wing
patch, be-
neath deep
yellow, with
two stripe ;
of black on
each side,
fused into a
patch on the
breast ; tail
feathers
with a white
blotch on all
but the cen.
tre pair. The
othe
■N/v
duller, and
the mark-
ings less distinct. Like the Black-
burnian, this little beauty doe.s not
breed in southern Ontario, but it
does not go very far north of us before
selecting its nesting place. 1 expect be-
fore long we shall have conclusive evi-
dence that this, as well as most of our
visitors, raise their young in the Mus-
kokadistrict. At the beginning of Sep-
tember the magnolias again appear, on
their way to Central America, where
they pass the winter.
THE BLUE WARBLER.
The black-throated blue warbler is a
very neat little bird, easily recognizable
by its blue back and white under parts,
with a well-marked black patch oo
the throat, and white wing patches.
The female is more difficult to identify,
being a very plainly clad little woman,
the upper part of her plumage is dull
olive green, the under part yellowish
white ; there is always some trace of a
white wing patch, but sometimes this
is very slight. This species is not of
much inter-
est to us, as
ses on t<
north, and
we see it no
more until
its return in
thefall.Wiih
the black-
throated
green war-
bler we have
more con-
cern ; it is
quite com-
mon and re-
irularly
breeds
throughout
its range in
the province
though, un-
less Ihereare
a good many
evergreens
about, it is
not apt to
stay in the
garden to
nest, its preference seemingly being for
rather open places, where cedars and
hemlocks are dotted about. In some
large gardens I know, I find it settled
every summer. It has rather a plain-
tive sort of song, which it keeps up all
through the season, even in the hot-
test weather, when nearly all birds are
silent. They leave us early in October,
and go south to Central America.
The chestnut-sided warbler is as
compared with those just mentioned
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BIRDS OF THE GARDEN
249
quite a plainly aitired Utile fellow,
whose name suHicienily describes him.
Although ihis bird's appearance does
not render it very noticeable among
the more gaily atlired of his fellows,
yet as it is one of the few warblers that
really does warble, it is worthy of men-
tion. In fact, the bird has some claim
to be considered a songster. On sev-
eral occasions I ha\ e heard it, and
have been surprised at the volume of
sound that can be produced by such a
little body.
These
birds breed
throughout
their range
in Ontario,
quite fre-
quently se-
lecting a
bush or
small tree in
a garden for
po'e. ""on
one occasion
a pair built
their nest in
a currant
bush in my
the town ol
Dundas.and
hatch ed
theiryoung,
but the in-
evitabl e
prowling cat
found them
s t roy e d wilsons thb
them.
THE REDSTART.
Another and most beautiful little
warbler that frequently makes its home
about our premises is the Redstart.
The male of this species is black all
over the head and upper parts with the
base of the wing and tail feathers liery
orange and a largeorange blotch on each
side of the breast, the rest of the under
parts white. The female is olive gray
and has the orange of the male re-
placed by yellow. This bird differs
from all its cousins in that it has an
individuality of its own. It is the most
restless little creature that wears
feathers ; not only does it move con-
stantly and rapidly from branch to
branch but it keeps every part of its
body also on the move even to its very
tail feathers which it opens and shuts
as if to display its colouration to the best
advantage. The Redstart builds a very
neat and pretty little nest in the fork
of some young tree and lays four or
five eggs, grayish white doited with
shades of
brown and
purple. They
leave us
early in Sep-
tember and
go far south
having a
shrubbery
there will
appear a
quiet, grace-
ful bird, clad
coat. Across
the breast
there is a
band of pale
sH — "vBKRv. " buff, shaded
with dusky
olive, and faintly spotted with darker
markings. This is Wilson's Thrush or
" Veery,"as it is commonly called ; alto-
gether as well set up, well groomed and
neat a little fellow as can be found in the
bird world. I believe more has been
written in the favour of this bird by en-
thusiasts than of any half dozen
others. With most of it 1 am quite In
accord, but I do take exception to the
lavish praise that has been awarded to
the bird for its song which is altogether
Digitized byGoOgIc
250 THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
unmerited. When several of these matters little what items are required
birds are singing' together on some to produce it. This thrush is geae-
still, lovely evening in June the effect rally very abundant throughout the
of their notes, taken together with the country, breeding in all wooded places,
beauty 0/ their surroundings, produces The nest, a rather loosely built affair,
a feeling of content and happiness that is placed in a bush near the ground,
is indescribable and the ideas that then The eggs are four or five, of a beauti'
become associated with the birds' notes ful greenish blue colour,
are inseparable from them afterwards The Veeries leave us quite early,
so that they are to a certain extent re- most of them having gone by the
vived each time we hear the song. But twenty-fifth of Aug^ust, though they do
the song itself is not the triumph of not go so far south as many birds that
bird music it is sometimes said to be ; stay much later. They winter princi-
however, one must not be too analy- pally south of the United States ; some
tical in these things and so long as the few, however, stay in the Gulf States
pleasant impression is produced it and Florida.
To be concluded next month.
THE DEATH OF THE MOOSE.
TT was late in the woods where the north wind swept,
It was late in the northern day,
When nty comrade and I up the beech-ridge crept.
And found the bip moose at bay.
He was wild with rage, and his eyes were red,
And the foam lay on his breast ;
But his strength went down 'neath the hissing lead,
And the hand on the trigger pressed.
It was cold in the snow neath the sunset's flood.
As we leaned on our rifles there ;
And watched the red sun tint the redder blood,
On the scene of his death and despair.
Reginald Gourlay.
Digitized byGoOgIC
CANADIAN CELEBRITIES.
\o. v.— MR. WILLIAM McLENNAN.
W
ILLIAM McLENNAN, writer of
prose and verse, is a Canadian
who is receiving those rarest of tri-
butes, honour and appreciation in his
own country, as well as from the Eng-
lish-speaking world.
Mr. McLennan was born in Mon-
treal, May 8th, 1856, and is the second
son of one of that city's representative
men, Mr, Hugh McLennan, a man who
has identified himself with the best in-
terests of the Dominion for many
years. He was educated at the Mon-
treal High School; graduated B.C. L.
at McGill University in 1880, and one
year later was admitted a notary public
of the Province of Quebec.
Long belore attaining his twentieth
year Mr, McLennan began writing
both in prose and verse, at first meet-
DigilizedbyGoOglC
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ing with that indifferent success so try-
ing to ambitious youth ; but the laurel
leaveii soon unfolded in the form of
some excellent trnnslations made for a
column in the Montreal Gasetlc, edited
by John Lesperance, who afterward
wrote of the subject of this sketch as
being "One of the most substantial
contributors to Canadian literature."
Mr, McLennan values verse transla-
tion most highly as training for a pro-
per appreciation of the comparative
value of words and propriety of expres-
sion ; his efforts in this connection also
having a practical outcome in the shape
of a little volume enlitled " Songs of
Old Canada," which was published by
Dawson in 1886. This was followed
by a series of stories illustrative of
Canadian life told by one, Melchior, in
his limited vocabulary of English and
published in Harper's MagaEtne in
.891-92.
b or some two years Mr. McLennan
worked on the period from 1642 to
1700, confining himself to Montreal
and to the history of certain families ;
only publishing, however, a monograph
on Dulhut, the explorer, which appear-
ed in Harpers Magaehie, one on Basset,
the first Canadian notary, in Le Canada-
Fraiii^ais, and a sketch of early Mont-
real in the Board of Trade Souvenir of
1893. From work of similar descrip-
tion on the French Revolution, Mr.
McLennan evolved an interesting series
of short stories, " As told to His
Grace," also brought out in Harper's
Magaaine.
Mr. McLennan's training as a notary
has unquestionably been of immense
value to him in his historical work, and
to this and his knowledge of the forms
and nature of old documents, much of
his successful and masterly handling of
intricate problems may justly be attri-
buted.
That Mr. McLennan's intimacy with
certain historical periods ensures per-
petual life to his writings is beyond
doubt, and it has likewise proved an
educational stimulant to the large mass
of readers to whom study of any des-
cription is irksome, unless relieved by
pleasing incident and sustained inter-
est. His two books, " Spanish John,"
and the recently published "Span o'
Life," written in collaboration with
Miss Mcllwrailh. of Hamilton, are
both "historical novels," whose ele-
gance of language and purity of style
suggest the art of the ever-lamented
Robert Louis Stevenson.
Mr. McLennan holds many positions
and has varied interests; he is the offi-
cial notary of the Bank of Montreal, is
a representative fellow in
'aw of McGill University,
a member of the Council
of the Art Association of
Montreal, and President
of the Fraser Institute of
that city.
Of his poems much
might be written did
space permit- — ^but the
world will sway to the
rhythm of the song, from
the "Span o' Life,'' lately
set to music by Mr, Fred-
erick F. Bullard, begin-
ning—
" In S|>al1i^l1 hands I've bent
Wilh Spanish grace and
'vc scoiired LepHnlo of the
Turk,
And Sjiain of Boal>dil ; "
lilizedbyGoOJ^Ie
CANADIAN CELEBRITIES
and what heart has
not beaten sympa-
thetically to, —
Nor braid cneitg^h this
To part my love
The graphic pen
pictures of old Ca-
nada to be found
throughout this
book are invaluable,
and willonly become
the more so with the
march of time. Who
has ever pictured
Louisbourg, always
associated mentally
with the French a cori
king's question.
"Are the streets paved with gold?"
with this — " Louisbourg-, a pretentious
and ccstly fortification, but miserably
situate and falling to decay for want of
the most necessary repairs. There it
was, shut in on the one hand by the
monotonous sea, wild and threatening
with its ice, and snow and storm in
winter, sad and depressing with its
other by an unbroken wilderness of
rock and firs"?
Two more intensely interesting views
of the past are given us of those long
June days in Quebec, waiting the com-
ing of the English. " There the white
coats of the regulars mingled with the
blue and grey of the Canadians and
volunteers. Indians stalked or squat-
ted about, taking no part in a labour
they could not understand," and " Be-
fore this restless, toiling mass swept
the great empty river, changing its
colour with every change of sky which
floated over it, while behind stretched
the beautiful valley of the St. Charles,
its gentle upward sweep of woods
broken only by the green fields and
white walls of Charlesbourg until it
met the range of blue and purple hills
which guards it to the north. At a
point opposite where we were standing
the nearer mountains opened out and
shewed a succession of golden hills
which seemed, in the tender evening
light, as the gates of some heavenly
country where all wa.s peace, and the
rumour of war could never enter."
In this author's study there is a con-
viction that its occupant has found
a dearly loved life work — that there,
with his favourite "masters of the
pen," Sir Thomas Browne, Defoe, Le
Sage, Froissart and. to use his own
words, " our own Champlain and Dol-
lier de Casson," surrounded by re-
lics of the old Canada he is preserving
and immortalizing. William McLennan
will continue to work out the brilliant
promise of his earlier years. The wide
windows look out upon an awakened
garden — from the scented screen of
apple blossom the soothing hum of the
bees mingles harmoniously with that
of the great human hive without the
gates — as with exquisite appreciation
come involuntarily to one's lips, Mat-
thew Arnold's beautiful lines, —
•' or toil, unsever'd from tranqiiillily !
Of labour, thai in lasting fruit oulffrows
Far noisier schemes, accomplished in re-
pose.-
E. Q. V.
Digitized by Google
M
WITH RIFLE AND ROD IN THE MOOSE LANDS OF
NORTHERN ONTARIO.
SECOND PAPER.
By W. Ridoul Wadsworth.
OST only when he wants to replenish his
peo- larder. The greatest destruction of
o f game is probably caused by wolves.
hern In winter especially they run dowo and .
ario destroy great numbers of deer; let
an unlucky deer find itself on glare ice
or partially crusted snow, with a pack
of hungry wolves on its trail, and its
fate is sealed.
But the wolf, save when surrounded
by a crowd of ravenous companions, is
an arrant coward, and so wary and
cunning that it is almost impossible to
take him, even in a trap. A few are
poisoned during the winter as they
hang around the lumber-camps, on the
lookout for refuse. Bui the number
taken must be very small ; the bounty
of ten dollars per scalp that the Gov-
ernment offers seems to be too meagre
an inducement for systematic hunting,
and these pests continue their depre-
dations comparatively undisturbed.
Some still night you leave the bright
Ontario
would be
inhabits
that por-
tion of
Ontario
west of
the Otta-
wa Riv-
er and
North of
the Cana-
dian Pacific main line, especially
red deer, cariboo and moose —
the " vanishing moose " of the
pessimists is a myth. Here,
away from the scrutiny of game-
wardens and justices of the
peace, game laws are more or
less of a nullity ; but they cer-
tainly are effective in this re-
spect, however, that they deter
parties from entering the dis-
trict for the express purpose ot"
hunting. The Indian may kill
everything and anything ho
wants Tor his own consumption,
but as the sale of hides and
heads is prohibited, he hunts
,Gooj^le
WITH RIFLE AND ROD IN NORTHERN ONTARIO 255
the howl of some lone wolf, the
sentinel of the pack. It is pro-
longed for some moments, then
again all is still, and the silence
seems even deeper than before.
With strained ears you wait for
a repetition ot that blood-curlirg
sound; and once more it rises
clear and close, followed by a
rattle of sharp, short barks —
the cries of the pack on the trail
of some fleeing deer. The direc-
tion of the .sounds show that the
poor creature is making for the
water. But the frenzied yelps
suddenly cease. Does it mean
death or safety for the animal?
You listen and listen anxiously,
wHKKii rne matawabika river kntbrs the and seek to pierce the darkness
MONTREAL RIVER. that envelops the shores till you
begin to doubt your own powers
camp-fire and paddle alone down the of sight and hearing. At length by the
dark lake. Not a sound strikes the rustling of the night-breeze in ihe
ear. The silence is oppressive ; you birches (which seems, however, but to
keep thinking how awful it would increase your sense of loneliness and
be to be lost in this solitude. Then, depression), you turn the canoe and
suddenly, from the shore beside you paddle swiftly back towards the dis-
comesa sound that for the moment tant camp-fire, eager for the compan-
chills your blood, it is so unexpected, ionship of your fellow- voyageurs.
so weird — a long, inexpressibly dismal On the shores of every little lake,
howl, like the cry of a wounded dog— along every stream, the broken bushes,
the torn water-lilies, the catile-
like hoo''-prints in the moist
ground tell a tale. Around cer-
tain lily-covered lakes, favourite
feedint;-;;rounds, run paths half
a foot deep, beaten in the mud
by the moose. The underbrush,
too, is everywhere intersected by
deer-paths. It is during the fly-
season I hat one sees most big
game, in the early morning
or evening when they come
down to the water. But in the
summer it is almost impossible to
come across these timid animals
in the bush, as the leiist noise —
the snapping of a dry twig under
the foot, the rustling of a dead
leaf — startles every creatur" in
the neighbourhood, and all relreat
to the densest thickets. What
a life ! Escaping danger and ob-
AN IMPROVISED SAIL. laining food seems to fill up the
indiani hirth-b^ri ru«iiMg ir/orr thr u--«j ,,.,drr n iiantei. Weary Touod of their Bxistcnce.
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256
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
The largest of the inhabitants of
these forests, and, in fact, one of the
largest wild animals on this continent,
is the moose. The bull, in spite of his
ung'ainlylong legs and ridiculously short
neck, has a certain dignity and grandeur
about him, no doubt lent by his huge
horns. In stupidity I doubt if he has a
peer among the deer tribe. He appar-
ently hasnotsenseenough to start to run
when suddenly surprised by man ; but
once he does start he lumbers along for
between it and death ? But when
these conscientious scruples are re-
moved by the knowledge that what
you shoot will not be wasted- — for in-
stance, when there is a camp of Indians
in the neighbourhood, ready to take all
the fresh meal they can get without
working for it — what a difference !
What you will undertake under such
circumstances for the sake of a shot !
How many hours you will lie at night
beside some marshylake, cold and wet,
devoured
by mos-
hi m to
stop. He
stands as
what
smaller.
The very
size of
this ani-
mal has,
dou bt-
less, oft-
en saved
1 from
the
rifle
of t h e
conscien -
man. l-Or Whoa unh-riy star Ud him i^roj^ Ihr pnik
my own "*'■" Iheir saMiri Krvvdarri
p a r t , I "t V "^^J^^ J'
have oft-
en felt that wanton waste of so much
food would be un^portsman-like in the
extreme. One may well pride himself on
such self-restr.iint, for game laws are
but indifferent bullet-proof shields at the
distance of a dozen paces.
And, after all, does the pleasure of
shooting consist solely in the pulling of
the trigger ? Is there not a keen en-
joyment merely in knowing that the
animal is in your power, that nothing
but your conscientious scruples stand
portunitv
— that',
perhaps,
never
When
it does
the thrill
of excite-
ment, the
.■LL MOOSE, burst of
i/Mr. U-adnroHh!/iaTlyjii3tBl<i limr e X U 1 ta-
rf/o-/«..ifl..rf/«/j=/A"'- tion. —
aCp^"^""""" Alas!
that such
pleasures should be forbidden by the
law ! Each wrong-doer must keep
the memory of his sweet trangressions
locked up within his own bosom.
One cold misty morning, I recollect,
[ had paddled at daybreak with the
" Convict " {of the suggestively shorn
pate) to where a small creek Rowed
into the lake, a short distance from the
camp to have a try for speckled trout.
We were on the point of making our first
cast when, behind us in the under-
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WITH RIFLE AND ROD IN NORTHERN ONTARIO
brush, n-e heard the branches break-
ing and iwigs snapping. "Bear!"
whispered my companion, picking
up the rifie and cocking it. All
was quiel for a moment, Ihen
came another crash and — Disappoint-
ment ! not the snout of a bear, but the
head of an enormous bull-moose. A
moose has
about as much
, was for the lime for-
half-gi
:e of
a sup-
mind as
e r an n L
milch-cow.
This bull look-
ed straight at
us, and then,
for no appar-
ent reason in
the world, and
despite the fact
that the "Con-
vict " had a
dead bead on
him at about
wards us out of
the underbrush
into the shal-
low water. He
evidently in-
tended to re-
us for startling
denty changing
his mind,
ivheeled round
and went lum-
bering down
the shore past
our camp. It
must have been
a great temp-
tation for my
friend to pull Indian simmer cam
the trigger, but
he overcame it. "What horns; and
seven cartridges in the magazine ! " was
all he said, as he uncocked the rifle and
went on with his fishing. A moment !
Then a .splash. Another — and another.
Out rushed the lines, the reels shrieked,
the rods bent, and our quondam friend,
the bull-m
gotten.
On another occasion paddling round
a bend on a small river (with a big
name) — the Namabin-nagashishingue
— we saw, on a small, marshy island
ahead of us, a cow-moose and her
No sooner did the
cow see us
than, deserting
her calf, she
dashed into the
waterandmade
for the shore.
But maternal
love soon got
the better of an
instinctive and
momentary im-
pulse towards
self - preserva-
tion— she had
gone but a few
yards when we
and, in spite of
the fact that we
were only a few
canoe- lengths
h^ck to the is-
land where the
calf was still
standing. Cow
:ind calf stood
for a
ndec
r hei
both
plunged into
the river. They
reached shore.
The cow land-
ed, and after
some difficulty
scrambled up
• AT A >i.e.c. POST. the muddy
bank and dis-
appeared in the bushes ; the catf
tried to follow her, but stuck fast in
the soft mud. For several minutes
it struggled and plunged, while we
cursed our stars for having been too
la/y to reload our camera with fresh
plates the preceding evening. At
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258
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
length a desperate effort brought the
calf to the top, and it made ofF to join
its mother, well out of an adventure
that with a party of Indians would have
certainly ended differently.
It is said that thirty years ago there
was not a red deer north of Lake Nipis-
sing'. Now they are very plentiful ; for
as the country to the south is gradu-
ally being settled, they are moving
northward. Late one wild September
afternoon we
su r prised
half-a-dozen
evenmgveni-
son figured
onourmenu.
A day or two
later, two of
our party had
an opportun-
ity of testing
the all-ab-
sorbing curi-
osity of these
animals.
P addling
sharply
round a
point, they
came upon a
buck stand-
ing in the
water ahead
of them, and
quickly de-
cided, in-
stead of se-
„„ ■„„ „ (.„„ THE TYPICAL IJALF-
curmg a fine
pair of ant- hu indmn ■^■if, a,,d cku
how close they could actually approach
before he took to flight. With this
end in view, while one slowly paddled
the canoe, the other held up in front
of him a large red handkerchief.
The buck stood motionless, gazing
fixedly at the strange red object.
They drew nearer and nearer till—
at length they were little more than
a canoe-length away from him ; slill
he was staring as intently a.s ever, and
his curiosity seemed as unsated. Then,
all at once, the true state of affairs
seemed to dawn upon him; he turned
like a flash, dashed up the bank, and
in a second had vanished among the
underbru-ih.
Largely, however, as the sportsman
relies on his rifle to aid him in eking
out his scanty supply of provisions, he
counts more largely on his rod ; for the
lakes and rivers to the South of the
Height of
Land are full
of fish, from
the lethargic
pike, thro ugh
the ascend-
ing scale of
pickerel, sal-
mon - trout,
masktnonge,
and bass, to
the game
speckled
trout, the
aristocrat of
fresh water.
Except inthe
immediate
vicinity of
the Hudson's
Bay Com-
pany's posts
hardly any of
these waters
have ever had
a hook drop-
ped in them,
and the fish
areneverdis-
turbed save
,REED H.B.C. AGENT. j^^ ^^^ p^^_
■ arr drrssril i« gala allirr. datOTy at-
tacks of their
larger neighbours. Given a good day,
a phantom minnow or a few flies, and
a little common sense, you can catch
fish to your heart's content.
But, alas for the fisherman ! The
days of his "fish stories" are number-
ed ; three-quarters of his former prestige
has already vanished. It is the camera
Ihat hath done him this dishonour. In
the good old days when the fisherman
began to talk of ten-pound bass, en-
,Gooj^le
WITH RIFLE AND ROD IN NORTHERN ONTARIO
259
vious busybodies could do no more
than hint that more fish were caught
by the skilful manipulation of the long
bow than were ever caught by rod and
line. Now, with an infantile smile
of mock credulity, they say blandly,
" Yes, a ten-pound bass is a large
fish. Excuse me, but would you mind
showing me a photograph of it ? "
' — which is, at the least, disconcerting
for the fisherman.
The salmon-trout fishing of Lake
Temagami is perhaps unexcelled any-
where. In the early autumn when the
trout come into shallow water to spawn,
and again in the spring, wonderful
catches are made by the Indians and
Hudson's Bay
Company's
people, who
salt down en-
ormous quan-
tities of these
fish for the
winter. In
1893, we saw
anlndiantake
a forty-pound
trout, on a
night-line,
near Bear Is-
land Post on
this lake, while
one morning
two of us
caught seven, „„„
ranging from
six to fifteen
pounds, and a
monster of twenty-four pounds that
afforded us an interesting quarter of
an hour and afterwards fed I forget
how many Indian families. But fish-
ing for salmon-trout does not rouse my
enthusiasm,for during the summer they
lie in deep water and must be taken
with the troll. What chance has even
a game fish of doing himself justice
when caught by a heavy trolling-line —
and, to my mind, the salmon-trout is
I assisted last summer in the capture
of a fish in a somewhat novel way.
' ' The Convict " and I had been located
for a week on a lake which in every-
'%lH"dif-^
thing that appeals to the sportsman
cannot be surpassed — the scenery is
bold and striking, game is abundant,
while the name that the Indians have
given to this beautiful sheet of water
is in itself a sufficient recommendation
from the fisherman's standpoint —
Maskinong^-Wagamingue — the lake
where the maskinonge lie. Maskin- '
onge there are in it in extraordinary
numbers and of extraordinary size.
The lake seems wonderfully adapted
by nature for this fish. It is large,
deep, cool, and the numerous sandy,
reed-grown bays opening off it mark
where the creeks from the hilts be-
hind How in. And not only is the
ing unexcel-
led, but in the
deep water lie
huge salmon-
trout, while
either below
the (alls at the
head of the
lake, or below
those that
mark its out-
let, lurk the
most raven-
ous, the most
fiery, the most
gamy black
bass that ever
j^^ cheered the
heart of en-
'mptdc Ihi camtisi, thi
gler.
On our first introduction to this lake
we had tried to troll with a light hass-
rod. But familiarity by no means bred
contempt, and after our first evening's
experience resulting in a broken tip
and the loss of yards and yards of line,
we concluded that the old-fashioned,
though somewhat prosaic method of
trolling with a hand line would he
more effective.
The following evening 1 was pad-
dling the "Convict" past the reedy
mouth of a creek when he hooked a
bass. We were out for giant mas-
kinonge, not for insignificant bass,
and it was with very bad grace that
:y Google
26o
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
my partner hauled in his line. The
straggling bass was within a few
feet of the canoe, when suddenly there
was a flash of grey in the water, and
our bass disappeared in the cavernous
jaws of a huge maskinonge. This was
getting interesting, if not exciting.
The "Convict" tugged at the line,
"and