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Igarbartr  Collie  l^i&rarg 




ANNE      E.      P. 



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Canadian  Magazine 

^olitic0,  §cicna,  ^rt  anb  ptaatnre. 

VOL.  XV. 

MAT,  1900  TO  OCTOBER,  1900,  INCLUSIVE. 


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MAY.  1900-OOTOBBR,  1900. 


A  UciHB  IN  The  Canadian  RocKitB    Frama  Photogrsph 3 

Tbkaty  CoitMiuiOH  Leavino  Edvdijtoh Fromk  Phatognph US 

Hull-Ottawa  Fibe,  fboh  Paruahut  Hill.  ..  From  »  Photograph.  IM 

A  DBHDNaT&ATloH  AT  Uapi  Towh From  aPbotogrmph MO 

Cahasa'b  Fudd  PBODncra  at  Pabis From  »  Fhotn)(Tiipb S86 

Yaobtimd  oh  Odb  Inlasd  Watibs Frym»  Phut<^rr»ph *82 


AoTBias,  A  YOUMQ  CaHadias IllaatrKted Margaret  O'Orady.  416 

Afsioa,  Thk  Mapli  Leaf  in  Sooth Ulnatrktad A  Canadian  Officer.  339 

Alooha,  Trb  JaBOK  ov niiutrUed Prineipat  Orant.  4S3 

Amid  Cuffs  and  Sard  Ddmib  Illiutnted Beatrice  Botanaind.  62 

An  Eabtbbn  Holidat Jean  Blevrtt.  66 

Axn  MiDiOAL  SsBTiDU,  BBmaB  and  CAHADiAif..Illiutrated  C.  A.  Maltheat.  301 

Battle,  Ah  H18TOBIOAL  Naval Dr.  a.  Arthie  StotkaeU.  68 

Battli  of  Paabdebibq S.  C.  Simaatki.  309 

BiBLET  AH  D  Canada IUiutnt«i. Lievt.  B.  C.  hlair.  319 

BoBK  Wak,  a  Skoht  HmoBT  or lUnitrAted Norman  Patterton  347 

Bbibbrt  and  Cosbdption  Prof.  S.  W.  Bmitingford  244 

Britibh  Coluhbia  Polricb Foortmn  Portruti T.  L.  Qrahame.  330 

BRmsB  Columbia,  Todbibt  A'rbaotiohs IUiutrat«d Jvlian  Dwrham  6 

Bktah  and  MaKiNLiT   Illiutratod Prof.  Simon  J.  McLean  431 

Canada  at  Thb  Pabib  EiPoairiUN IllQatnteiL jr   -"'-  ^  ^^'^^''^  387 

Canada  and  The  Todbiht The  Sditor.  3 

Canadian  Cblibbitiib  : 

No.  XIII.,  Jahbb  Bain,  Js niortntUd. Arthur  H.  U.  Colquhoim.  31 

Nu.XIV.,  Asthuh  J.  Stbihobb    ..  IUu>tM(«d B.  A.  Brwx.  143 

No.  XV.,  ThiKev,  T,  0.  S.  Haoklcn IUartr»ted A.  H.  Tovng.  ISA 

No.  XVL,  Thb  Robbbts  FimtT ninrtrBted. Prof.  A.  B.  de  Mille.  426 

No.  XVII.,  Mibbbb.  GwAHAHDHAiiiLTON.,.IUiutrat«d JoKn  Levrie.  495 

OaRaDiaNBIM  Sddtii  Afbioa IUiutnt«d A  (^nadian  OJIUxr.  339 

Candk  Miit  or  1900,  Thi  Intebmational Dlnitiated D.  J.  BowtU.  513 

Chili,  A  Dai's  Shootiho  Ik An  B»sliA  Sporttmam~  460 

China.  Thi  Pabt  AND  Pbebbnt Hliutnittd Arthar  H.  V.Calqulvmn.  446 

Chihbb  Gamb  of  Pah-Tan Carlton  Datu.  409 

Cbimaman  in  tri  Hodbihdld.  Tee WaUer  C.  llic/iU.  113 

City  on  ihb  Sassatcsbwan.  Tub lUuitrsted BleaideU  Caminm.  99 

Canada,  Faoan  Indians  or DloBtrkted M.  O.  Seoti.  204 

DeWet,  Obmbbal  Chbibtiah Barold  Boberfon.  46S 


DnoKB  or  Omtabio,  ««e  Wild  Fowl 

Oboboian  Bat  ABOHiFEi.Aao Illutistad W.  S,  Bradtkatr.      16 

Oo^BBBilBHT  OwciBSHtt  OF  Railwatb R.  Z.  Sttliardton,  M.P.    404.  631 

GooBE,  Canada,  «ec  Wild  Fowl. 

GovbbnoB'Gembkal.  FnNcTiOHfl  or Pelitifal  Onlooker.    167 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

iHiiu,  Strvmina  In lUnrtrBttid Caroliiu  MiKklem.  337 

lupfBULiBu,  Tbb  Funrsi  of / ''oft™  i«»"-  262 

Jabov  or  Alooha,  Thi lOurtTAtMl Principal  Orant.  483 

KaPFIBS     . .,.,, ^  ..,,■'-'  ^^-  ■'■--••'••  ^ ,..,-.  551 

Imu  St.  Johm  Codxtst,  Thi.   X  T.  D.  Chamberi.  273 

MiKUAL  TftAiNiNa -Sir  Jothua  Fiteh.  5M 

Zawa  M.  Boulton.  12S 

NaTDKai.  TB.    AbtificiaL John  A.   Cooper,  80 

Naval  Batixi,  Ah  HuttobioaL ~ Dr.  Q.  Arckie  SloekviflL  68 

Nkgho.  W»8T  Imdian  of  To-Day B.  O.  DeLUmr.  US 

Naw  BsuHawiOE. Dlnrtnted A.  M.  BiCding  49 

Nbw  Post  aitd  a  New  Plat,  A «■  «■  -Peoowt  W6 

NoBTH  AMD  SoDTH  PoLBS,   A  WALK  TO HIuitrBtad Dr.  F.  A.  Cook.  4]8 

Oh  HutLOOK   FSATBiaa W.  Ptny  Chambert.  80 

Ohtabio,  Todbim  AlTBACTiOHB  Ib lUiutntad ....William  B.   Varley.  24 

OTTATA—HnLL  FiBB lUorttfttad JVonilm   ffad#iy.  196 

Ottawa  Vallbt. IlliutrAted Korman  B.  Sniih.  87 

Pasam  Ihdums  of  Oahada,  Thb lUiutnlad U.  O.  Scott.  Z04 

FaUMT  AND  Tbaobbb Agt^  Dtatu  Camero-t.  53fl 

Pabih  Exhibition,  Canada  AT lUnatnlsd W.  S.   Suvart.  387 

Pont,  A  Nbw  and  a  Nbw  Plat «  R.  Pearock.  148 

PoLBC^  A  Walk  to  Nobth  amd  3ooth lUutntod  Dr.  F.  A.  Coot  418 

Fbimcb  Edwabu  Iblajtd UloBtratM] BralriceAnowumi.  82 

QuBBH'a  Plats,  Thb Eortmwn.  270 

Sbawabd  V«w-Nbw  Bbdnswiok lUoatnMd -4.  .If.  Miina.  « 

Shb  AMD  I mta  CaliaQhaa.  33 

Shipb,  SBOoniio  Thb  Wilson  Snifb Btginald  Oowrlai/.  529 

Bomb  Clbtib  Wohbn -^-  Ckitliotm.  153 

SODTU  Afbioa,  Cahadiams  in IllnatrAted A  Camuiiaa  Offcer.  339 

Shoht  Hi^TOBT  Of  WaB Iltu>tnit«d... Sorman  PatUnon.  3*7 

St.  Stbpbbs'b- Walbbook  lUoitntad H.  C.  ShtlUy.  227 

Sdhhbb  rm  thb  Paoific  Coast Illnatnited Julian  Durham.  6 

TauB  SiBOES  AND  Thbbb   Hibobb lUiutTated Bmat  Berleri  Cooptp.  291 

TonBiBT  Attraotionb  IN  Cahada— Sbb  Vabioub  Abticlm  Paobs  2  to  90. 

Thip  to  Mexioi,  A IllQitrkted Laura  M.  Bolton.  128 

TwwiTT  Ybabs  OS  THB  Wab  Path JV«ierfc  Villia-t,  39,  122.  247,  367 

Wbbt  Indian  Niobo  of  To-Day,  Thb H.  O.  DtLiner.  116 

Wild  Fowl  OP  Oirr*Bio,  The lUuBtnted C.   W.   Naih.  B21 

Wohbn,  Sohb  Clbtbb A.  Chi4ltolm.  4A3 


Boob  Rbviiws 87. 185,  283. 378.  474.  666 

CffBHUT  BVBNie  Abboad W.  SaTiford  Bvani.  «2,  177,  275,  369,  466,  667 

IdlbMombiiib 93.190,286,  381,  477,671 

LlTBBABt  NOTBB  91.  37«,  669 

Fboplb  and  AfVaibS John  A.  Cooper.  181,  279,  374.  471,  661 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


Di.  BiTCx'a  HaDBON's  Bat  Comfaiit,  Bbtiiwid. aea-B-O.  MaeBeik.    449 

lilLITAKT  PlOTDU  SCBin 13,   110 

Good  Mobhing Ann  a  Pointing  14S 


AaoviK  01  A  BoHiuiAM PhU  Wala.    382 

A  Huelbud  FoawBiPT. Sewton  McTaviA.    381 

A  Maid  and  Two  SwoaDa Ciuu.  O.  D.  Bebtrtt.      74 

Caxaca  Pin A.C.  CtompteU.    B41 

Oahoi  Trick,  A J.  Barmmi  PaOentm.      B3 

Cbuokib  B.  KMg.     78 

aoABDHooa^  At  Thi P,  Y.  Black.    151 

MiMlOHABY  or  TB«  Cbosb,  A W.  A.  R  Kerr.  268 

HoMwA  ai  Thi  Bodkdarim lUiutiatad W.  A,  Frater.  497 

Udbfht's  PaisoMtB A  ffmrp  ifainer.  478 

Mt  First  Sbsmon Jfanltm  MeTatiih.  477 

Mt  Fibst  Bwibthbabt JITnotoR  ifcTVicuA.  286 

Ob  Thb  Houhbtof. StAtrt  Barr.  363 

BoNANOE  TsAt  FAII.BO,  A  lUiutntod tCtUian  £.  SloBaH,  236 

Saltaoi  or  TBI  Sahta  Maria  W.  A.  Frattr.  216 

Scrap  op  HiaroBr,  A Boberi  Barr,  160 

SooiBTi  Mthtkbt,  a CM.  Ktt/a.  164 

Thb  Cobymt  Faoic  Camp  2 Jtan  BteatU.  4S4 

Thb  Majob'8  Mibtabb May  Aulin  Lot.  439 

Thb  Rebpohsibilitt  of  Mrb.  Wbathbrbtobb Fimo  Sheard.  44 

Tbrbd  hi  WOI.7BB /.  ffarmon  PaUeriort.  Hi 

Tmo  KiTTKira SparhiM  Sheldrake.  9* 


Cabamb,  Lkbtlb  Ma Dr.  W.  H.  DrutMumd.  108 

Cabadian  CAMFura  Soro Ben.  Jama  D.  ff*jar.  23 

Oolonial.Thb ArthtiT  J.  ^riagtr.  361 

Dbad  Pobt,  a John  ArboTf.  48 

Ibroorhgb Frank  LcoBtan.  127 

IB  LlPB Bat  Marie  nievrtand.  416 

Ifl  Time  op  War Xathieen  Sirchh..^.  346 

Is  War  Timb £ffe  I.  Faster,  J21 

LoBBLT  Lake,  Tbb J.  C.  M.  Dimean,  494 

Ma  Lbbtlb  Cabahb Dr.  W.  H.  Drummond.  108 

Mom-BEAL WiUian  Iknitii  Lighthall.  73 

HoBHiNQ  OH  Thb  Lake  Bbaoh WUtian  WH/rid  CompMt.  38 

SoBO  OP  LoTi,  A Virna  Shettrd.  146 

BoBO  OP  Thb  Votaorubb,  Thb William  Wilkie  Edgar,  611 

Sfrimq  Shadows  Martha  S,  SichaTdton.  43 

Stab  Tblbbm firicn  UmriU.  246^.  Frater.    26 

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Distinguished  everywhere  for  Delioaoy 
of  Flavour,  Superior  Quality,  and 
highly  Nutritive  Properties.  Specially 
grateful  and  comforting  to  the  ner- 
vous and  dyspeptic.  Sold  only  in 
i-lb.  tins,  labelled  JAMES  l?PS  & 
CO.)  Ltd.,  HofflOBopathio  Chemists, 
Undqn,  Eng., 


^    COCOA 



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ore  eflfectually  UiMn  may  other  prtMiatioo.  PnTcoM 
_Aldii>»  uid  &nirf,,  arul  '•  alto  u>ld  in  ■  CoUon  Colour 



Whitana  Ihc  Teeth.  Prarents  Decay,  Slienethaaa  tba 
Guna,  and  Swmum  the  Braaili.  SoU  bv  Store*.  Chank 
iiu.  (ihI  a.' ROWLAND  *  SONS,  flitton  Gardn. 


Horsford's  Acid  Phosphate 

The  most  efficient  remedy 
known  for  the  relief  of  Unguor 
and  exhaustion,  so  common  in 
the  spring  and  summer  months. 

Taken  after  exhaustive  illness 
it  acts  as  a  wholesome  tonic, 
giving  renewed  strength  and 
vigor  to  the  entire  system. 

Taken  before  retiring,  quieb  the 
■ervM  and  Induces  retreshint  sleep, 







H     r^^^~^               London        HI 

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Canadian  Magazine 


LAST  summer,  as  1  passed  along 
northern  Ontario,  between  Port 
Arthur  and  Rat  Portage,  I  saw,  side- 
tracked by  the  bank  of  a  river,  the 
private  palace  car  of  the  President  of 
the  New  York  Central,  one  of  the  rich- 
est citizens  of  the  United  States.  His 
wealth  could  not  provide  him  in  New 
York  with  what  he  was  seeking  and 
getting,  free  of  charge,  in  Canada — 
the  pleasure  of  casting  a  fly  for  gamey 
fish  amid  the  most  entrancing  and  rest- 
ful natural  scenery. 

As  I  sojourned  at  Banff  and  Laggan 
and  the  Glacier  in  the  Rockies,  I  met 
Europeans  who  had  crossed  the  Atlan- 
tic and  a  great  continent  to  view  moun- 
tains more  majestic  in  their  number 
and  extent  than  the  Alps  of  Europe 
and  fully  equal  in  grandeur  and  colour- 

In  Vancouver  and  Victoria  I  met 
Americans  from  San  Francisco  and 
other  western  cities  who  had  come  up 
to  see  the  beauties  of  British  Columbia, 
its  famous  mountains,  rivers  and  sal- 
mon fisheries  and  to  enjoy  one  of  the 
balmiest  climates  in  the  world. 

The  Muskoka  region,  in  Ontario, 
is  crowded  each  summer  with  tourists 
from  all  parts  of  the  United  States,  and 
last  year  many  were  forced  to  make  a 
short  stay  because  of  inadequate  ac- 

The  City  of  Quebec,  with  its  quaint- 
ness  and  its  romance,  is  yearly  at- 
tracting an  increased  number  of  travel- 
lers anxious  to  see  its  madi^val  relics 
and  its  historic  rock.     The  celebrated 

Chateau  Frontenac  is  taxed  to  accom- 
modate all  the  visitors  who  write  their 
names  on  the  register  in  an  office 
which  overlooks  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful terraces  in  the  world. 

The  Maritime  Provinces  are  now  the 
regular  camping  grounds  of  the  people 
from  the  cities  of  the  Eastern  States. 
Halifax  and  St.  John  are  well  known 
as  objective  points  for  those  who  wish 
to  escape  for  a  month  from  the  toil  and 
heat  of  a  large  city,  and  to  avoid  the 
bustle  and  rush  of  a  fashionable  water- 
ing place.  Here  they  find  a  land  which 
is  fanned  by  cooling  sea  breezes,  which 
possesses  land-locked  harbours,  where 
even  the  frail  bark  canoe  may  be  safely 
launched,  where  the  scenery  is  of  a 
sweet  pastoral  simplicity  or  an  impres- 
sive grandeur,  and  where  in  crystal 
brook  or  primeval  forests  may  be  found 
sport  which  will  create  memories  to  be 
treasured  throughout  life. 

While  the  number  of  foreign  tourists 
is  on  the  increase,  the  Canadian  people 
themselves  are  awakening  to  a  realiza- 
tion that  in  their  own  country  are  to  be 
found  the  chiefest  pleasures  of  life. 
The  neighbourly  relations  between  the 
people  of  adjacent  provinces  are  being 
extended  and  more  "  social  calls  "  are 
being  paid.  The  people  of  Ontario,  and 
they  comprise  one-third  of  the  whole 
population  of  Canada,  are  found  making 
summer  tours  eastward  through  Que- 
bec and  the  Maritime  Provinces  or 
westward  across    the   prairies  to   the 



mountain  regions  of  British  Columbia. 
Such  a  result  is  the  inevitable  accom- 
paniment of  the  growth  of  railroad  aod 
steamship  lines  and  of  the  perfecting 
of  travelling  comforts.  The  develop- 
ment of  inter-provincial  trade,  the 
broadening  of  patriotism  from  provin- 
cial to  national  boundaries,  and  the 
more  thorough  acquaintance  with  Ca- 
nadian history  are  also  important  fac- 
tors in  this  development  of  Inter-pro- 
vincial travel. 

The  growth  of  the  Canadian  urban 
population  has  increased  the  number 
of  people  who  are  desirous  of  getting 
"back  to  nature"  for  at  least  one 
month  of  the  year.  Hence  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  each  city  there  are  one  or 
more  special  districts  where  the  summer 
cottage  is  in  increasing  evidence  and 
where  the  formalism  and  restraint  of 
the  city  can  be  laid  aside  to  the  benefit 
of  mind  and  body.  It  is  not  many 
years  since  the  Thousand  Islands  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  were  the  only  important 
resort  of  this  character.  Recently, 
however,  many  other  places  havegrown 
into  equal  prominence  as  resorts. 
The  people  of  Winnipeg  do  their  camp- 
ing and  summer  cottage  duties  on  the 
Lake  of  the  Woods,  chiefly  at  Rat 
Portage.  The  people  of  the  Ontario 
cities  have  resorts  in  the  Georgian  Bay, 
on  Lake  Huron,  Lake  Erie,  on  thie 
Niagara  Peninsula,  the  Muskoka lakes, 
and  along  the  Upper  St.  Lawrence. 
The  denizens  of  Montreal  have  created 
many  beautiful  summer  villages  along 
the  Lower  St.  Lawrence.  The  citizens 
of  St.  John  and  Halifax  have  no  trouble 
in  finding  quiet  sea-beaches  beside 
which  they  may  while  away  the  heated 
days  of  summer. 

Theyoungmenwho  desireloavoid  the 
village  of  summer  cottages  and  sum- 
mer hotels  have  begun  to  visit  Lake 
Temiskaming  and  Lake  Temagaming, 
on  the  boundary  between  Ontario  and 
Quebec,  and  some  2^^o  miles  north-west 
of  Ottawa.  The  boundary  runs  through 
Temagaming,  while  Temiskaming  is 
about  forty  miles  east.  The  railway 
now  runs  as  far  up  as  Temiskaming 
Station  at  the  southern  extremity  of 

the  lake  of  that  name.  Here  there  is  a  hotel.  It  is  best  to  take  canoes 
aod  supplies  along,  but  Indians  can  be 
engaged  there.  On  Lake  Temiskaming 
there  is  a  steamer  which  takes  the 
canoeist  up  to  the  head  of  the  lake  (75 
miles)  ;  and  from  there  to  Lake  Tema- 
gaming, via  the  Montreal  River,  is 
several  days'  paddle.  There  isa  shorter 
route  by  the  River  Metabechawan,  but 
the  former  route  is  more  novel  even  if 
more  difficult.  Temagaming  is  above 
the  average  of  these  northern  lakes  in 
its  beauty,  its  fish  and  its  game.  It 
contains  over  thirteen  hundred  wooded 
islands  and  these  make  canoeing  safe 
and  pleasant.  There  are  trout  and 
bass  and  dor^  such  as  are  never 
seen  nowadays  in  the  better  known 
tributaries  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and 
deer,  bear  and  moose  are  frequently 
encountered.  There  is  a  Hudson's 
Bay  Company  post  at  Bear  Island,  in 
the  centre  of  the  lake,  but  otherwise 
there  is  no  sign  of  civilization  in  the 
region.  Indians,  of  course,  are  met 
with  in  many  parts,  and  the  canoeist  is 
generally  pleased  to  meet  them.* 

To  return  from  this  digression  to  the 
general  subject,  it  may  be  remarked  in 
conclusion  that  it  is  certain  that  Canada 
shall  become  more  and  more  the  resort 
of  the  summer  traveller,  especially  from 
the  United  States.  Her  thousands  of 
lakes  and  rivers  afford  plenty  of  sport 
for  the  seeker  afterpleasantexcitement, 
her  vast  forest  preserves  are  still  well 
stocked  with  the  finest  game  in  the 
world,  and  the  natural  beauty  of  the 
many  regions,  which  the  prosaic  hand 
of  civilization  has  not  yet  touched,  af- 
fords rest  to  the  tired  man  or  woman 
of  the  world.  Canada  is  rising  in  im- 
portance as  the  natural  play-ground  of 
America,  and  that  explains  why  this 
tourist  number  of  The  CANAorAN  Ma- 
gazine has  been  prepared. 

*  Two  illustrated  articles  on  this  rejrioii,  by 
a  Torontotiian  who  spent  two  or  tliree  sea- 
sons there,  m.-iy  be  found  in  The  Canadian 
Macazink,  June  and  Jnly.  tSi^.  under  tlie 
title,  "  With  Rifle  and  Rod  in  (he  Mooselands 
of  Northern  OntMrio." 

The  Editor. 

Digitized  by  VjOO'?  I C 



3  * 
<   i. 


Digitized  b,  Google 

Summer  on  the  Pacific 

Coast  . 
By  cJulian  Durham 

'T'RULY  the  trail  of  the  tourist  is 
*■  over  it  all  !  Strolling  about 
the  busy  cities  on  the  Pacific  Coast, 
that  present  to  the  stranger  such  odd 
contrasts  between  the  modern  build- 
ing's, flanking  their  asphalted  streets, 
their  quaint  Chinatowns,  and  the  im- 
penetrable wildernesses  of  their  vacant 
"  town  lots  " — wandering  through  the 
exquisite  glades  of  Stanley  Park,  or 
the  charmingly  laid-out  grounds  of 
Beacon  Hill— a  boat  in  the  harbours — 
a-picnicking  up  the  canyons — a-wheel 
anywhere — the  tourist  is  ubiquitous 
throughout  the  province  of  British  Col- 

How  well  we  know  him  with  his  in- 
evitable kodak  and  his  soft  fedora  hat, 
and  how  dearly  we  love  him  for  his 
honest  appreciation  of  our  great  Cana- 
dian West !     Occasionally  it  is  amus- 

ing to  watch  his  astonishment  at  the 
growth  and  development  of  the  new 
towns,  or  to  note  his  admiration  of  the 
wondrous  beauty  of  some  fern-dressed 
ravine,  that  is  cleft  into  the  very  heart 
of  the  heavily-wooded  hills,  but  at  all 
times  it  is  vastly  pleasing  to  hear  him 
exclaim  with  genuine  enthusiasm  :  "  1 
am  glad  1  came  \  " 

And,  well  he  maybe — not  only  glad, 
but  interested  and  fascinated  also,  for 
the  tourist  who  visits  British  Colum- 
bia (let  us  say  during  the  months  from 
April   to  November,  which  are  by  far 
the  most  enjoyable  on  the  Coast)  finds 
himself  amongst  surroundings  such  as 
he  has  never  met  with  elsewhere.      In 
the  first  place,  he  discovers  everything 
to  be  on  averylarge  and  generous  scale, 
from  the  mountains  with  their  giant  fir 
trees  and  luxuriant  vegetation,  down 
to  the  ideas  of  the  hospi- 
table inhabitants  in  this 
land   where  free  life  and 
fresh  air  characterize  the 
entire  country.      Second- 
ly, there  is  so  much  to  see 
and  to  do  that  cannot  be 
seen  or  done  one-half  as 
well  in  any  other  locality. 
And  last,   but    not  least, 
there     comes     to     every 
stranger   who    visits   the 
West   that    restful    sense 
of  living  near  to  Nature's 
heart    which    appeals    so 
strongly     to     the     jaded 
minds  of  town-bred  men 
and  women.      From  dusk 
to  dawn,  from   sunrise  to 
sunset,    a   mighty   peace 
lies  upon  the  land,  and  a 
leeling  of  space  exhilar- 


ates  the  brain.  Life  seems 
so  very  well  worth  living, 
so  full  of  grand  possibililie:i 
out  oil  the  Pacific  slope. 

Day  afler  day  the  trans- 
•continental  express  brink's 
large  numbers  of  tourists 
into  the  Terminal  City,. some 
of  them  bound  for  Chinese 
and  Japanese  port-,,  lo  which 
they  sail  from  Vancouver  by 
one  of  the  Canadian  Pacific 
Steamship  Company's  mag- 
nificent boats,  commonly 
called  "the  Empresses "'; 
others,  anxious  to  take  pas- 
sage for  Melbourne  or  Syd- 
ney, board  the  vessels  of  the 
Canadian-Australian  Royal 
Mail  Line  ;  many  eit  route  to 
the  Klondike  and  Northern  points  pass 
-quickly  through  the  town  and  are  gone, 
whilst  a  goodly  quota  remain  behind 
simplv  to  spend  a  pleasant  holiday  in 
British  Columbia. 

Having  seen  all  the  glories  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  feasted  his  eyes 
upon  the  spiral  loveliness  of  the  Sel- 
kirk Range,  the  Tourist  arrives  at  the 
Jine  new  Terminal  station  and  estab- 
lishes himself  in  one  of  the  many  local 
hotels  such  as  the  "  Vancouver,"  the 
"  Badminton,"  or  the  "Commercial." 
Then    he    naturally    begins    to    look 

*  BRITISH  colum: 

around  him.  First  of  all,  he  takes  in 
the  town  with  its  smart  up-to-dateness 
and  cheerful  air  of  bustle  ;  next,  per- 
chance, he  scrapes  acquaintance  with 
some  returned  Klondiker  orownerof  At- 
lin  claims,  and  listens  with  breathless 
interest  to  marvellous  accounts  of  the 
wonders  that  may  be  seen  farther 
North,  from  the  lips  of  that  sanguine 
individual,  with  the  result  that  he  is 
fired  by  a  fierce  ambition  t6  instantly 
extend  his  trip  to  Dawson  City,  via  the 
Yukon  &  White  Pass  Railway,  one  of 
the  grandest  scenic  routes  in  the  world. 
By  and  by,  mayhap,  he 
strikes  a  civic  official,  or 
that  unrivalledencyclopedia. 

■■'  the  old  t 


promptly  whisked  off  to  visit 
Stanley  Park,  Chinatown,  or 
the  Hastings  Saw  Mill  and 
wind  up  with  a  turn  along 
the  docks,  where  tall-mast- 
ed ships  lie  at  anchor,  and 



Skagway,  San  Francisco 
and  the  Puget  Sound  ports 
are  tied  up.  These  latter 
vessels  offer  to  men  of  a 
roving  disposition  ample  op- 
portunity for  making  short 

terest  north  and  south  of 
British  Columbia,  and  the 
round    trip    to    Alasjta    on 



board  the  CUy  of  Seattle,  or  a  run  down 
to  the  American  coast  towns,  forms  the 
basis  of  many  a  most  enjoyable  tour  for 
those  who  like  sea  voyag^es  ;  whilst  as 
regards  people  going  from  Canada  into 
the  United  States  who  prefer  railroad 
travelling,  the  Seattle  &  International 
Line  takes  them  comfortably  across  the 
border,  and  connects  with  the  luxuri- 
ous systems  of  the  Northern  Pacific  and 
Great  Northern  Companies.  Thus  Van- 
couver, though  essentially  a  Canadian 
Pacific  Railway  town,  is  also  an  im- 
portant centre  of  general  travel,  from 
which  steamship  and  railroad  lines 
radiate  to  all  points  of  the  compass. 

As  an  alluring  spot  to  strangers, 
Stanley  Park  undoubtedly  holds  the 
first  place  in  Vancouver's  long  list  of 
attractions.  It  is  a  beautiful  dense 
forest,  traversed  by  trails  cut  deep  into 
the  tangle  of  underbrush  and  moss- 
hung  tropical  growth ;  and  these  paths, 
over-arched  with  huge  Douglas  (irs, 
and  bordered  by  an  infinite  variety  of 
broad-leaved,  succulent  plants,  open 
up  to  the  lover  of  nature  a  world  of 
surprises  and  delight.  The  flamboyant 
blossoms  of  the  skunk  cabbages,  the 
glossy  foliage  of  the  sallaJs  with  their 
delicate  pink  flowers,  and  the  star-eyed, 
scarlet-fruited  pigeon-berries,  all  con- 
tribute vivid  spots  of  ■colour  to  the  soft- 
toned  pictures  of  the  woods,  A  per- 
petual background  of  ragged,  grey, 
lichen-covered  logs  and  dim  green 
depths,  smeared  by  bronzing  shadows, 
soothes  with  ineffable  sweetness  human 
senses  overstrained  by  the  storm  and 
stress  of  the  world. 

A  big  jump  to  the  opposite  end  of 
the  city  lands  the  siranger  in  China- 
town, an  evil-smelling,  but  curious 
jumble  of  shacks,  shops,  opium  dens 
and  restaurants,  a  tour  of  which  leaves 
him  a  wiser  but  much-disgusted  man. 
Huh  !  the  concentrated  odours  of 
those  restaurants  !  There  the  Mon- 
golian cooks  offer  you  an  assortment 
of  chickens,  geese  and  ducks,  un- 
plucked  and  uncleaned,  all  boiled 
together  in  the  same  huge  pot,  and,  by 
way  of  relish,  long  .stringy  sausages 
made  of  plain  dog.  One  never  can  be 
quite  sure  about  these  things,  but  a 

brew  that  resembles  nothing  so  much 
as  cockroach  soup  usually  forms  the 
fUce-de-Jvnsfance  of  the  Chinese  menu. 
Having  fortified  the  inner  man  with 
such  (fortunately)  rare  and  revolting 
viands,  topped  off  by  a  cup  of  straw- 
coloured  tea,  the  Tourist  may  descend 
into  an  opium  den,  play  a  little  game 
of  fan-tan,  climb  up  to  the  Yoss  House, 
attend  a  weird  performance  at  the 
Chinese  theatre,  or  investigate  the 
mysteries  of  the  rice  hand-mills  and 
opium  factories,  as  time  and  inclina- 
tions dictate.  It  is  all  horribly  dirty, 
but  there  is,  nevertheless,  a  piquancy 
in  orientalism,  however  squalid,  that 
survives  disgust,  and  attracts  even 
whilst  it  repels. 

A  lovely  summer  morning,  and  away 
the  Tourist  skims  over  the  harbour  in 
a  sloop-rigged  yacht  with  a  merry 
party  aboard,  and  a  spanking  breeze 
blowing  straight  up  from  the  west. 
Whither  shall  it  be?  To  Seymour 
Creek,  where  white-stemmed  alders 
droop  over  the  rippling  waters,  and 
grassy  banks  invite  to  idleness — to 
Cypress  Creek,  a  gorge  the  nakedness 
of  whose  escarped  sides  is  clothed  by  a 
clinging  mantle  of  tender  maiden-hair 
ferns  and  rich  green  arbutus  saplings 
that  spring  out  of  the  crevices  in  the 
rocks — or  the  Capilano  Canyon,  where 
vertical  walls  rise  up  three  hundred 
feet  from  the  bed  of  the  brawling 
stream,  and  a  rustic  bungalow,  set 
amongst  pine  trees,  overhangs  the  pre- 
cipice and  forms  an  ideal  halting- 
place.  Close  to  any  of  these  spots  the 
snow-winged  boat  will  carry  the 
stranger,  and  a  day  passed  picnicking 
under  the  blue  and  balmy  sky  is  ever  a 
day  well  spent. 

If  a  longer  expedition  be  desired, 
Sechelt,  the  North  Arm  or  Howe 
Sound  may  be  visited  by  steamer,  and 
a  glimpse  of  the  wilder  aspects  of  the 
coast  thus  obtained. 

A  trip  to  New  Westminster  over  the 
Interurban  Electric  Tramway  Line, 
and  a  few  hours  whiled  away  in  this 
city,  which  was  laid  out  in  1858  on 
the  banks  of  the  Fraser  River  by  the 
Royal  Engineers, forms  another  attrac- 
tive excursion ;  especially   interesting 



if  the  return  journey  to  Vancou- 
ver is  made  by  sea  aboard  a  vessel 
calling  in  at  the  different  canneries  and 
passing  through  the  fishing  fleet  when 
a  big  "salmon  run"  is  on.  Time 
should  be  taken  to  note  the  methods 
employed  in  the  larger  canneries, 
where  the  whole  process  may  be  watch- 
ed, from  the  moment  when  llie  fish  is 
fifht  landed  until  it  stands  upon  the 
table,  canned  and  labelled,  ready  for 

God's  own  celestial  weather  around 
us,  and  the  only  sound  in  nature  the 
rustle  of  the  breeze  as  it 
sways  the  pine-tops  slowly 
to  and  fro  beneath  the  glor- 
ious noon-tide!  ItisAugust, 
and  in  the  logging  camps 
every  one  is  busy.  Deep 
down  the  forest  glades,  the 
lumbermen  seek  for  the  fin- 
est limber,  and  blaze  with  an 
axe  those  trees  that  tower  up 
straight  as  masts,  thus  sing- 
ling them  out  for  felling. 
Some  think  it  strange  to  find 

such  a  lonely  camp  safe  buried  in  the 
woods  within  a  few  miles  of  a  large 
city,  and  as  the  tourist  looks  around 
him  he  certainly  sees  but  little  that  be- 
speaks civilization. 

A  shanty  built  of  rough-hewn  logs, 
warmly  mudded-up,  a  band  of  glossy- 
coated  horses  to  haul  ihe  sawn  timber 
over  the  skid  roads,  the  inevitable 
Chinese  cook,  and  the  very  best  of 
food,  such  are  the  chief  adjuncts  of  a 
British  Columbian  logging  place,  as 
the  guest  who  once  partakes  of  its  hos- 
pitality   can    testify.     The  process  of 



felling  one  of  the  forest  giants  is  an 
exciting  thing  to  witness  ;  tor  the  men 
who  stand  on  spring-boards,  at  either 
side  of  the  huge  bole,  and  cut  it 
through  with  a  two-handled  saw,  can 
foretell  unerringly  exactly  where  the 
trunk  will  fall,  consequently  it  is  per- 
fectly safe  to  stand  clorse  to  the  doom- 
ed tree  on  the  off-side  and  watch  the 
whole  operation.  It  does  not  seem  so 
— to  the  tourist  at  least,  not  until  he 
has  once  fairly  taken  his  courage  in 
both  hands  and  tried  the  experiment. 
Back  again  to  Vancouver  in  the  dusk 

of  the  deepening  twilight.  How  bril- 
liantly the  harbour  lights  shine  out 
over  the  waters  of  Burrard  Inlet,  as  the 
sounds  of  the  busy  city  run  shivering 
across  their  rippled  surface.  Night 
descends,  and  lulled  to  rest  by  the  pine- 
scented  winds,  that  waft  inland  the 
song  of  the  sea  as  it  hushes  the  shore 
to  sleep,  the  tourist  dreams  a  golden 
dream  of  the  West. 

British  Columbia  is  a  paradise  for 
sportsmen  !  The  streams,  both  on  the 
mainland  and  on  Vancouver  Island, 
abound  with   fish,    while    duck,  snipe, 

grouse,  pheasants,  deer,  bear  and 
cougars  are  all  found  between  the 
Coast  Range  and  the  ocean.  What 
can  the  heart  of  man  desire  more?  He 
may  go  off  with  rod  and  creel,  rifle  and 
gun  for  one  day  or  twenty,  he  may  fish 
in  the  neighbourhood  or  shoot  far 
afleld.  It  matters  not,  the  sport  is 
alike  excellent. 

To   traverse  the  Gulf  cf  Georgia  on 
board  the  steamer  Islander  is  a  charm- 
ing trip,  and  at  the  end  of  it  the  Queen 
City  of  Victoria   affords    a  variety  of 
attractions    that    fairly   rival    those  of 
older  and  more 
places.    Pictur- 
esquely situat- 
ed    on    a    hill 
which      slopes 
gently  down  to 
the  ocean's 

rounded  by 
beautiful  open 
country  and 
fields,  the  town 
is  particularly 
inviting  to  tra- 
vellers. Across 
James  Bav  the 
stand  out  in  all 
ihe  majesty  of 
their  cold  grey 
splendour,  and 

may  be  pleas- 
urablyand  pro- 
fitably spent  roaming  through  the 
Legislative  Chamber  and  committee 
rooms,  the  library  and  the  various 
Government  departments,  or  in  study- 
ing the  fine  collection  of  stuffed 
animals,  birds,  fishes  and  Indian 
curios  that  fills  the  well -stocked 
Provincial   Museum. 

The  coast  cities,  being  essentially 
business  town';,  do  not  in  themselves 
eiig;ige  much  attention  from  the  ordin- 
ary stranger,  unless  he  is  interested  in 
manufactories,  shipping  or  some  spe- 
cial branch  of  trade  ;  therefore  it  is  un- 



necessary  to  dilate  in  this  connection  , 
upon  the  general  aspect  of  the  hand-  | 
some  "  blocks,"  warehouses,  shops  s 
and  public  buildings  that  adorn  Van-  % 
■couver,  Victoria  or  New  Westminster. 
The  tourist  usually  finds  his  chief  at-  ^ 
tractions  outside  of  such  limitations.  < 

For  example,  at  Oak  Bay,   beyond        '% 
the  treadmill  of  the  typical  sight-seer,        ^ 
the  Golf  Links  are  superb — large  un- 
-dulating  meadows  hemmed   in   by  the 
sea,    and    possessing    precisely    those 
■qualifications  which   render  them  well- 
night  perfect  in  the  eyes  of  all  players 
of  the  good  old  Scottish  national  game. 
Then  there  are  the  country  roads  that 
intersect   the  fertile  farm  lands,   where 
one  may  ride,  drive  or  wheel  for  miles 
between  hedge-rows  bright  wilh  wild 
flowers,    and    where    the   scent   of  the         g 
<log-roses   is   sweet  upon  the  June  air.        ^ 
Or  again,  there  is  the  ocean,  trimmed        ^ 
by  a  fringe  of  wave-worn    rocks,  and        ^ 
upon    whose    palpitating    bosom    the        » 
dull  green  masses  of  kelp  with  their       £ 
long    brown   ribband-Streamers   heave        3 
softly  up  and  down.     There  the  tour-        ~ 
ist  can  row  in  an  open  boat,  or  else  he        ^ 
can  paddle  a  canoe  up  the  gorge,  below       » 
whose  waters   deep    purpling  shadows        g 
lie    hid,    whilst    overhead,    above    the        * 
-changes  and  chances  of  ihe  clouds,  the        [j 
blue  sky  is   stretched  from  horizon  to        i 
horizon.      In  the   environs  of  Victoria,        ■ 
whichever  way  you  turn,  an   exquisite       S 
landscape  or  seascape  meets  your  eye.        i 

Of  course,  the  Queen  City  has  its 
Chinatown,  its  park,  and  its  share  of 
good  hotels,  just  like  Vancouver,  and 
there  is  no  more  delightful  abiding 
place  in  all  British  Columbia  than  the 
*'Oak  Bay,"  an  hotel  ihat  stands 
facing  the  sea,  midway  between  the 
town  and  the  Golf  Links. 

A  run  down  by  tram-car  to  the 
Naval  Station  at  Esquimalt,  combined 
with  visits  to  Her  Majesty's  ships  in 
port,  forms  a  charming  way  of  spend- 
ing a  summer  afternoon,  added  to 
which  an  expedition  to  the  Barracks 
and  the  fortifications  at  Macaulay  Point 
is  most  enjoyable. 

Every  one  bicycles  in  Victoria,  and 
«xcursions  awheel  are  largely  the  order 
of  the  day.      Innumerable    spots,  such 

Digitized  by  Google 


as  Cedar  Hill,  Goldstreatn  or  Otter 
Point  offer  every  inducement  to  pic- 
nickers ;  therefore,  from  the  time  when 
the  first  tender  shoots  of  spring  appear, 
until  autumn  lies  brooding  over  the 
land,  enwrapping  all  nature  in  her  rus- 
set cloak,  merry  parties  may  be  met 
daily  bound  for  some  outlying  district 
with  hearts  aflutter  and  spirits  gay. 

An  immense  amount  of  shipping  is 
done  in  Victoria,  and  the  trips  that  can 
be  made  thence  by  boat,  and  the  expe- 
ditions that  may  be  undertaken  up  the 
Island  by  those  in  search  of  pleasure 
and  sport  are  countless.  A  journey  to 
Nanaimo  over  the  Esquimalt  &  Nan- 
aimo  Railway  Line  is  also  a  capital 
means  of  seeing  the  country,  and  some 
very  large  coal  mines  at  the  end  of  the 

Nor  is  there  any  lack  of  amusement 
for  the  evenings,  as  dramatic  perform- 
ances, concerts,  and  entertainments  of 
various  kinds  are  constantly  in  pro- 
gress in  all  the  coast  cities,  each  of 
which  boasts  of  theatres  and  music 

To  the  artist  the  picturesque  ele- 
ments met  with  at  the  western  edge  of 
Canadian  soil  carry  an  irresistible  ap- 
peal. The  diversity  of  form,  the  riot 
of  colour,  and  the  force  of  individuality 
are  all  there,  whilst  a  cosmopolitan  fla- 
vour gives  to  the  whole  a  daring  dash 
of  contrast.     On    the    Siwash    Indian 

Reserves,  in  the  Chinese  quarters,  and 
along  the  waterfronts  dwell  types  that 
are  each  a  study  In  Itself.  When  the 
sun  comes  climbing'  up  over  the  snow- 
capped crests  of  the  mountains,  and 
you  see  the  land  touched  with  the 
witchery  of  a  summer's  day — what  a 
picture  is  that !  Or  the  reverse — the 
austere  and  treeless  cliffs,  stern  bas- 
tions of  rock  upraised  against  an  oxy- 
dized-siiver  sky,  some  log  huts  crouch- 
ing between  half-burned  trees  at  the 
edge  of  an  angry  sea,  and  in  the  fore- 
ground a  few  spent  blooms  that  bow 
their  heads  in  grief  as  the  chill  wind 
moans  a  requiem  over  the  dead  day. 

Life  is  so  full  of  enjoyment  during 
the  summer  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  that 
it  is  difficult  to  discriminate  and  de- 
cide exactly  what  constitutes  the  real 
charm  of  existence  In  that  glamorous 
Western  Land. 

Is  it  sport  ?  There  is  plenty.  Is  it 
sight-seeing  ?  An  unlimited  choice 
awaits  the  stranger.  Is  it  cycling, 
driving,  riding,  boating  or  mountain- 
eering? Each  one  Is  indulged  In.  Is 
it  tennis,  golf,  croquet  or  cricket  ?  All 
are  played.  Is  it  scenery  ?  British 
Columbia  is  full  of  Nature's  most 
magnificent  handiwork.  Ah !  well, 
who  shall  say?  We  of  the  West 
are    content.       Let    the    Tourist    an- 

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AMP  ST.,    CAPRTOWN,      j 

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By   W.  R.Bradsheww. 

ONE  of  the  rarest  pie 
day-outing  is  lo  abandon  one's- 
self  to  primeval  nature,  to  the  splen- 
dour of  lakes  embosomed  in  surround- 
ing hills,  or  to  the  labyrinthine  mazes 
of  an  archipelago,  where  every  island 
presents  a  new  picture  to  the  eye,  and 
fresh  food  for  contemplation. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  duplicate 
the  opportunities  for  a  tour  through 
wild  scenery  afforded  by  that  part  of 
the  Highlands  of  Ontario  which  abuts 
on  Georgian  Bay.  Here  the  splen- 
dours of  the  aboriginal  forest  are  more 
than  equalled  by  the  endless  charms  of 
a  belt  of  lake  studded  with  some  thirty 
thousand  islands,  stretching  from  Chris- 
tian Island,  on  the  south,  to  French 
River,  the  outlet  of  Lake  Nipissing  on 
the  north,  and  beyond  through  the 
North  Channel  to  the  Sault  Ste.  Marie. 

I  do  not  over-state  the  fact  when 
I  say,  that  in  these  splendid  solitudes 
the  lover  of  nature  is  t — '-''  *~  " 
Barmecide  feast  of  wild  lovi 

Visitors   to    this    region 
make    the  Muskoka    lakes 
destination.     These    are    ^ 
miles  due  north  of  Toronto 
of  tourist  travel  from   the 
and  west,  and  the  natural 
the    Ontario    Higlilantts. 
From  Toronto  to  Musko- 
ka wharf  is  a  journey  of 
only  a  few  hours  hy  the 
Grand     Trunk    Railway. 
Here  the  tourist  is  intro- 
duced to  a  trinity  of  lakes. 
Lake  Muskoka,  Lake  Ros- 
seau    and    Lake   Joseph, 
whose    enchantments   al- 
lure thousands  of  tourists 
every    succeeding  season 

from  within  a  radius  of  a  thousand 

He  who  has  once  felt  the  extraordin- 
ary charm  of  these  glorious  lakes 
will  ever  remain  a  slave  to  their  fas- 
cinations. The  virgin  splendour  of 
islands,  bays  and  promontaries  that 
characterize  these  lakes  of  most  fan- 
tastic outline  ;  the  brightness,  dryness 
and  extreme  healthfulness  of  the  clim- 
ate ;  and  the  unequalled  facilities  for 
hunting,  fishing,  camping  and  social 
recreation,  make  the  Muskoka  region 
the  Mecca  of  holiday  wanderers. 

But  the  joys  of  the  lake  region  are 
more  than  duplicated  by  an  excursion 
to  the  wilderness  beyond,  to  that 
ultima  ihule  known  as  Georgian  Bay, 
with  its  labyrinth  ofislands,  the  climax 
of  Muskoka's  charms.  He  who  catches 
a  breath  of  the  fragrance  wafted  from 
these  enchanted  isles   will  know  better 



than  language  can  teach  the  poetic 
meaning  of  the  legend  of  the  Hes- 

One  route  to  Georgian  Bay  is  by 
way  of  Port  Cockburn,  at  the  head 
of  Lake  Joseph.  A  stage  carries  pas- 
sengers to  Maple  Lake,  on  the  Cana- 
-da  Atlantic  Railway  which  runs  to 
Parry  Sound.  The  tourist  in  search 
of  tlie  picturesque  had  better  walk 
thither,  or  rather  walk  to  Rankin's 
Station,  in  a  north-westerly  direction, 
&  distance  of  ten  miles,  to  obtain  an 
intimate  impression  of  the  beauty  of 
the  Canadian  forest. 

The  road  leads  through  a  densely 
wooded  region,  extending  to  infinite 
^distance  on  the  north  and  east,  a  for- 
est of  pine,  hemlock,  spruce,  balsam, 
<;edar,  maple,  oak,  birch,  juniper  and 

Ah  !  what  glorious  breaths  of  air 
one  inhales  in  these  resinous  solitu- 
des !  There  is  potency  in  every  inspir- 
ation. The  infinite  white  sunlight 
touches  every  tree  with  its  beauty,  and 
even  the  dull  road  becomes  an  Elysian 
pathway,  leading  to  unknown  enchant- 
ments beyond. 

The  fundamental  rock  hereabouts  is 
a  disorganized  upheaval  of  what  geol- 
ogists believe  was  the  first  sedimentary 
deposit  from  the  primary  granite  in 
primordial   seas.     It    is    a    gneissoid 

rock  with  many  stratifications.  Here 
and  there  vast,  smooth  protuberances 
appear,  surrounded  with  a  jungle  of 
ferns,  mosses,  grasses  and  blackberry 
bushes,  in  which  lie  the  half-buried, 
decaying  trunks  of  trees,  that  have 
been  blown  down  by  the  wind.  The 
trees  had  grown  too  big  for  the  pocket 
of  earth  they  stood  rooted  in,  to  ade- 
quately minister  to  their  needs. 

Elsewhere  are  seen  giant  trunks  of 

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pine  that  have  been  almost  wholly  i 
sumed  by  fire.  Here  charred 
of  what  were  at  one  time  monarchs  of 
the  forest,  either  lie  prostrate,  or  stand 
erect  in  blasted  majesty  on  the  naked 
rock,  supported  by  the  still  spreading 
remnants  of  giant  roots,  but  how  de- 
formed, how  ghastly  in  the  life-giving 
sunshine  and  the  luminous  green  of 
the  surrounding  forest  ! 

Such  evidences  of  the  scourge  of 
forest-fires  are  seen  everywhere,  the 
yearly  destruction  of  valuable  timber 
being  something  enormous.  The  fire 
seems  to  have  raged  in  spots,  and  has 
spared  some  of  the  best  growth  as 
well  as  that  of  inferior  value,  but 
where  it  has  swept  the  forest  the  hoary 
giant,  two  hundred  teet  in  height,  is  as 
helpless  as  the  smallest  sapling. 

The  Ontario  Government  sells  "tim- 
ber rights"  to  lumbermen  to  cut  all 
timber  over  ten  inches  in  diameter, 
and  gangs  of  men  have  penetrated  the 
forest  everywhere,  felling  trees  for  lum- 
ber. The  forest  in  consequence  has 
lost  much  of  Its  beauty,  but  after 
being  denuded  of  the  larger  trees,  a 
new  growth  of  pine  springs  from  the 
soil,  that  is  very  picturesque. 

The  configuration  of  the  land  as  one 
proceeds  north-west  is  a  succession  of 
hilly  ridges  alternating  with  deep  val- 
leys. Descending  the  valleys,  distant 
lakes  are  observed,  notably  Trout  l^ke, 
Whitefish  Lake  and  Horseshoe  Lake 
on  the  right,  and  Clear  Lake  on  the 
left.  The  blue  waters  of  these  lakes 
fill  the  cup-like  depressions  of  the 
landscape  with  a  poetic  charm.  The 
silence  is  profound,  only  the  whisper- 
ings of  the  pines  at  times  make  a  mur- 
mur like  the  washings  of  far-off  seas. 
The  islands  that  rise  from  the  bosom 
of  the  lakes  stand  in  lonely  solemnity, 
thickly  covered  with  pines,  and  the 
all-surrounding  shores  are  shaggy  with 
interminable  forests. 

Ascending  the  hilly  ridges  of  the 
landscape,  the  aspect  of  the  forest, 
stretching  away  on  either  hand  until 
lost  upon  the  crests  of  distant  hills.  Is 
one  of  singular  serenity  and  majesty. 
The  sunlight  illumines  the  splendid 
amphitheatres  of  foliage,  which  sparkle 

continuously  with  scintillations  of  white 
sun  fire.  The  air,  streaming  from  the 
north  ;  from  the  endless  forests  of  the 
Hudson  Bay  region,  from  the  frozen 
tundras  of  Arctic  lands,  but  warmed  to 
a  degree  on  its  journey  hither,  is 
gloriously  cool  and  bracing.  The 
climate  is  assuredly  one  that  could 
transform  a  vast  crowd  of  dyspeptics, 
hypochondriacs,  pessimists  and  nerve- 
racked,  drug-racked  humanity,  into  a 
race  of  happy  beings,  forgetful  of  their 
miseries.  It  is  indeed  the  elixir  of  life. 
Parry  Sound  is  an  enterprising  town, 
located  on  a  magnificent  harbour  with 
Parry  Island  forming  the  southern 
boundary.  The  scene  Is  delightful. 
The  site  of  the  town  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Sequin  River  is  an  ideal  one,  being 
located  on  an  amphitheatre  having  a 
southern  exposure.  Far  to  the  north- 
west and  to  the  south  lies  the  grand 
archipelago  of  Georgian  Bay,  whose 
wide  waters  stretch  westward  where 
one  may  travel  hundreds  of  mites  with- 
out touching  the  shore  in  any  direction. 

Since  the  opening  of  the  railway  to 
Ottawa,  Parry  Sound  has  become  the 
focus  of  a  vast  trade  in  grain  and  other 
western  products,  and  this  fact,  toge- 
ther with  the  extensive  local  mining 
industry,  makes  it  a  place  of  pros- 
pective importance. 

Parry  Sound  is  the  central  rendezvous 
for  tourist  travel  in  Georgian  Bay, 
One  may  proceed  north  and  explore  a 
virgin  archipelago  of  islands  of  every 
conceivable  form  and  dimensions,  the 
largest,  Manitoulin  Island,  being  as 
big  as  Long  Island  and  ten  times  more 
picturesque,  .with  the  advantages  of 
aboriginal  inhabitants  and  teeming 
presarves  of  game  and  fish. 

The  journey  south  to  Penetang  in 
the  ancient  home  of  the  Hurons  is  the 
more  popular  excursion  at  present,  al- 
though the  Northern  Navigation  Com- 
pany of  Ontario  runs  steamers  north  to- 
the  Magnetawan  and  French  Rivers, 
and  thence  westward  through  the  end- 
less panorama  of  islands  that  engorges 
the  North  Channel,  to  far  Sautt  Ste. 
Marie,  and  the  more  remote  Mackinac 
Island,  that  guards  the  entrance  to- 
Lake  Michigan. 


A  glorious  excursion  truly !  The 
imagination  cannot  conceive  the  splen- 
dour of  nature  in  their  sublime  soli- 
tudes when  the  summer's  sun  calls  into 
new  life  the  tremendous  vegetation 
that  covers  every  island  with  its  beau- 
tj',  and  permits  a  romantic  dalliance 
with  every  unknown  shore.  How  rare 
the  pleasure  to  discover  every  day  a 
new  lerT-a  incognita,  as  full,  at  this 
hour,  of  pristine  beauty  and  wildness 
as  when  the  Jesuit  missionaries  urged 
their  canoes  through  the  mazes  of  the 
islands  southwards  on  their  mission  to 
the  Hurons,  two  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago. 

Let  us  follow  in  the  track  of  the  mis- 
sionaries by  embarking  at  6  o'clock  on  a 
glorious  summer  morning, 
on  the  steamer  leaving 
Parry  Sound.  The  gate  of 
the  archipelago  leading 
south  is  of  itself  of  unequal- 
led beauty.  Parry  Island 
lies  on  the  right,  and  the 
mainland  on  the  left,  and 
between  and  beyond  there 
is  a  labyrinth  of  islands, 
serene  and  splendid,  which 
it  is  the  delight  of  the  tra- 
veller to  explore. 

The  brightness  of  the 
sun  gives  promise  of  a 
glorious  day,  and  as  we 
enter  the  Ten  Mile  Nar- 
rows the    rapture   of   the  roun 

moment  is  profound.  The  vessel  proud- 
ly sweeps  between  the  hushed  and 
splendid  walls  of  vegetation  that  rise 
from  islands  on  either  hand,  and,  dis- 
covering still  narrower  passages,  we 
move  as  in  a  dream  through  straits  of 
blessedness,  where  the  clear  water  is 
gemmed  with  lilies  ;  where  the  clean- 
washed  rocky  shores  enclose  little 
sandy  bays  ;  where  the  hushed  pines 
stand  happy  in  the  sunlight  breathing 
the  wonderfully  pure  and  quiet  air. 

It  is  a  strange  thing  that  so  much 
wild  beauty  lies  so  near  the  haunts 
of  man,  that  a  region  of  romance, 
practically  ten  thousand  miles  away, 
can  be  reached  from  a  busy  Ca- 
nadian  town  in  fifteen  minutes  !    Yet 




we  do  not  expect  to  see  here  any  indi- 
cations of  humanity,  so  ideal  are  the 
conditions.  One  rather  expects  to  see  a 
nymph  dividing  the  clear  wave,  or  a 
centaur,  or  even  Pan  himself,  haunting 
the  forest  solitudes. 

As  we  progress,  little  interior  bays 
are  discovered  in  the  islands,  that  still 
preserve  the  silence  and  mystery  that 
brooded  over  them  since  the  dawn  of 
creation.  It  is  a  most  precious  thing 
to  be  able  to  gaze  upon  these  sacred 
haunts — to  be  the  first,  as  it  were,  to 
disturb  their  virgin  solitude,  to  taste 
the  nectar  of  their  idea!  beauty. 

But   to    merely    pass    through    the 

foliage  of  forest  crowned  islands  made 
splendid  with  the  summer  light  and 
heat,  of  sloping  rock  and  precipice  ris- 
ing from  clear  depths  of  water,  of  the 
cool  streaming  air  laden  with  the  aro- 
matic breath  of  pine  and  balsam,  will 
here  find  such  an  ecstatic  environment. 
Sans  Souci,  like  the  other  islands,  is 
a  Cyclopean  mass  of  highly  convoluted 
rock,  rising  in  irregular  terraces  to  a 
height  of  a  bunded  feet.  The  shore 
line  is  delightfully  irregular,  in  fact 
ideally  so.  Several  deep  bays,  or  dimi- 
nutive fiords,  penetrate  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  islaad  forming  idyllic 
retreats,  chambers  of  supreme  loveli- 

islands  on  the  steamer  does  not  give 
the  tourist  an  impression  of  the  one- 
thousandth  part  of  their  beauty.  Hap- 
pily the  steamship  company  has  erected 
a  hotel  on  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
islands,  known  an  Sans  Souci,  which 
contains  over  300  acres  of  well-wooded 
bays  and  promontories.  Sans  Souci 
Hotel,  with  its  subordinate  cottages, 
are  the  only  buildings  on  the  island, 
and  the  outlook  on  all  sides  is  a  virgin 
landscape  only  disturbed  by  the  daily 
call  of  the  steamer. 

Those  who  love  the  companionship 
of  Hashing  crystal  seas,  of  the  swaying 

ness,  sanctu; 
entrancing  hours. 


c  may  pass 

il  produces  park-like 
woodlands,  where  clumps  of  trees  al- 
ternate with  open  sunny  spaces.  No- 
where is  the  timber  too  close  for  free 
locomotion  in  any  direction.  Soft  beds 
of  green  moss  carpet,  the  odorous 
groves,  and  fern  and  bracken  make  a 
delightful  jungle  that  invites  repose. 

Such  are  the  joys  of  Sans  Souci.  In 
these  splendid  solitudes  where  the 
only  sounds  are  the  murmur  of  the 
water  and  the  vEolian  sighing  of  the 
forests,  one  wonders  at  the  absence  of 


mankind  and  only  half  believes  the  sol- 
itude Is  complete.  Where  is  that  harass- 
ed crowd  of  humanity  that  so  longs  to 
be  at  rest  ?  Man,  in  the  aggregate,  is 
a  creature  of  habit.  He  is  so  chained 
to  his  money-getting  employments  that 
he  knows  nothing  of  such  joys  as  these. 
An  excursion  from  Sans  Souci  to  the 
Moon  River,  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles, 
gives  a  fine  idea  of  the  beauty  of  the 
grand  archipelago.  To  enjoy  such  a 
journey  to  its  utmost,  a  seat  in  a 
cushioned  stern  of  a  rowboat  towed  by 
the  steam  launch,  by  a  rather  long 
cable,  affords  an  intimate  and  impres- 

bayou  is  discovered  a  rocky  inlet  glor- 
iously apparelled  with  the  fragrant 
plumes  of  cedar.  Here  is  a  larger  is- 
land whose  deep  ravines  are  engorged 
with  vegetation  that  proudly  climbs  the 
acclivities,  a  haunt  of  beauty,  that 
"wastestosweetnesson  the  desert  air. " 

The  vessel  flies  past  rounded  shaggy 
capes  and  fair  and  sunny  declivities, 
covered  with  sparse  greenery,  where 
one  might  erect  a  home  and  live  happily 
aloof  from  the  world. 

Secret  passages  that  wind  about  the 
thicknesses  of  cyclopean  rocks  open  to 
receive  the   steamer   and  her  trail  of 

sive  view  of  the  scenery.  From  such 
a  seat,  as  one  glides  over  the  swelling 
undulations  of  clear  deep  water,  spotted 
with  bubbles  of  foam,  the  vast  panor- 
ama unfolds  itself.  The  boat  at  times 
crosses  wide  gleaming  sea-like  ex- 
panses of  water  surrounded  by  a  dis- 
tant amphitheatre  of  islands  and  again 
glides  through  secret  channels  between 
precipitous  walls  of  rock,  or  of  dense 

The  openings  between  the  islands  re- 
veal profound  reaches  of  water  with 
still  other  islands  beyond.      In  a  deep 

cedar  boats,  the  mirror-like  serenity  of 
the  water  being  rudely  disturbed  by  the 
aqueous  calvacade.  The  water  Is 
starred  in  places  with  floating  water- 
lilies,  which  are  moored  to  the  bottom 
by  the  long  sinuous  stems.  To  thus 
float,  as  in  a  dream,  with  the  objective 
faculties  lulled  to  repose  and  the  sub- 
jective entity  roused  to  enthusiasm,  one 
recalls  passages  from  the  poet's  des- 
cription of  such  scenes  as  these.  There 
is  a  passage  in  Tennyson's  poem  en- 
titled "Timbuctoo"  which  fitly  de- 
scribes the  environment. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


"  Where  are  ye, 
Thnmcs  of  the   western   wa 

Where  are  your  moonlight  halls,  your  cedars' 

The  blossoming  abysses  of  your  hills? 
Your  flowering  capes  and  your  gold-sanded 

Blown   round   with    happy  airs    of   odorous 

Where  are  Ihe  in5nite  ways,  which.  Seraph 

Wound  through  your  great  Elysian  solitudes, 
Whose  lowest  depths   were,  as  with  visible 

Filled  with  divine  effulgence,  cirtrumfused 
Flowing  between  ihe  clear  and  polished  stems 
And  ever  circling  round  llieir  emerald  cones 
[n  coronals  and  glories,  such  as  gird 
The   unfading    foreheads    of   Ihe    saints    In 

For  nothing  visible  (hey  say  had  birth 
islands       '■>  that  blest  ground,  but  it  was  played  about 
Witli  its  peculiar  glory." 

Here  indeed  is  the  ideal  land  of  the 
poet  visible  in  all  its  bright  reality. 

As  one  rushes  over  the  surging 
flood  each  island  seems  to  spin  upon  its 
axis,  slowly   revolving  until  it  passes 

Some  of  the  islands  are  owned  by 
clubs  and  individuals,  but  not  one  in  a 
hundred  has  ever  yet  been  surveyed. 
A  club  from  Cleveland,  Ohio,  owns 
Qui  Vive  Island,  opposite  which  is 
Waubano  Island.  Sadie  Island  is  re- 
markable for  a  natural  formation  of 
rock  known  as  CoUingwood  Rock. 
Bentymon  Island  isa  jungle 
of  bosky  vegetation. 

Other  islands  in  this  sec- 
tion of  the  archipelago  are, 
Wahsonne  Island,  Frying' 
pan  Island,  Copperhead  I 
land.Assinniboialsland  and 
the  three  romantic  retreats 
Hafuz,  Saadi  and  Firdus 
Islands.  The  Provincia 
Government  ofOntario  sell; 

islands  (c 

t  the 

fixed  price  of  five  dollars 
per  acre,  the  expense  of  sur- 
veying being  also  paid  by 
the  purchaser. 

The    Moon     River    is    a 
most  romantic  stream  and 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


is  the  outlet  of  the  Muskoka  Lakes,  fascinating  feature  of  island  sceaery 
The  estuary  is  three  miles  wide  and  is  in  their  most  impressive  moods, 
usually  filled  with  a  boom  of  logs  From  Sans  Souci  to  Penetang  the 
awaiting  transportation.  Three  miles  journey  is  delightful.  Islands  swarm 
inland  are  the  Moon^iver  Falls,  a  tor-  upon  the  water,  creating  an  endless 
rential  cascade  dashing  down  a  chute  variety  of  vistas.  There  are  islands 
in  the  rocks,  with  a  fall  of  over  fifty  feet,  that  seem  smitten  with  the  calm  of  an 
The  islands  of  this  remarkable  region  eternal  morning  and  there  are  others 
are  the  boldest  and  finest  of  all  the  in-  shaggy  with  the  forest  growth  of  ages, 
land  waters  of  the  American  continent,  that  seem  like  a  thunderous  roll  of 
Those  of  Lake  George  are  small  but  smoke  blown  far  out  to  sea. 
very  enchanting.  Those  of  the  Lake  The  vessel  at  times  emerges  from  the 
of  the  Thousand  Islands  are  of  greater  islands  and  sails  on  the  broad  ocean- 
dimensions  and  of  more  varied  config-  like  expansion  of  Georgian  Bay.  In 
uration.  The  islands  of  the  Muskoka  the  west  there  is  no  land  visible,  noth- 
Lakes  are  still  bolder  and  more  pictur-  ing  but  a  vast  horizon  of  opaline 
esque,  but  those  of  Georgian  Bay  are  water,  the  fit  environment  of  the  Can- 
the  grandest  of  all   and  possess  every  adian  Hesperides. 


A  WHITE  tent  pitched  by  a  glassy  lake. 
Well  under  a  shady  tree, 
Or  by  rippling  rills  from  the  grand  old  hills, 

Is  the  summer  home  for  me. 
I  fear  no  blaze  of  the  noontide  rays 

For  the  woodland  glades  are  mine. 
The  fragrant  air,  and  that  perfume  rare — 
The  odour  of  forest  pine 

A  cooling  plunge  at  the  break  of  day, 

A  paddle,  a  row  or  sail ; 
With  always  a  fish  for  a  midday  dish. 

And  plenty  of  Adam's  ale  ; 
With  rod  or  gun,  or  in  hammock  swung. 

We  glide  through  the  pleasant  days  ; 
When  darkness  falls  on  our  canvas  walls, 

We  kindle  the  camp-fire's  blaze. 

From  out  of  the  gloom  sails  the  silv'ry  moon. 

O'er  forests  dark  and  still  ; 
Now  far,  now  near,  ever  sad  and  clear. 

Comes  the  plaint  of  whip-poor-will  ; 
With  song  and  laugh,  and  with  kindly  chaff. 

We  startle  the  birds  above  ; 
Then  rest  tired  heads  on  our  cedar  beds, 

And  dream  of  the  ones  we  love. 

— Hon.  James  D.  Edgar. 

Digitized  by  Google 

in  oj^rauro 

By  miliant    B  .  Vir-ley 

"/^NTARIO"— a  pleasant  prospect 
^— '  of  lakes  and  woodland,  which 
the  word  in  the  Indian  language  im- 
plies— is  aptly  named.  The  instinct 
that  makes  the  beauty  of  the  lake,  the 
sky,  and  the  maple  and  pine  grove 
thrill  almost  every  human  heart,  was 
surely  strong  within  the  breast  of  that 
first  red-man  as,  from  some  command- 
ing headland,  with  shaded  eye  he 
gazed  across  the  undulating  landscape 
and  pronounced  its  poetical  name — 
"  Ontario."  As  it  doubtless  was  then, 
the  name  is  graphically  descriptive  to- 
day of  this  fair  Province.  But  now 
the  dense  growth  of  forest  in  the 
southern  section  has  to  a  great  extent 
given  place  to  the  well-tilled  field  on 
the  rolling  upland,  the  rank,  rich  pas- 
ture of  the  river  bottom,  to  the  blos- 
soming peach  and  apple  orchards  and 
the  vine-clad  slopes,  ali  giving  promise 
of  bounteous  harvest.  '' 

A    land  of  lakes    and  rivers  is  this 
Ontario — rivers  that  have  their  source 

in  the  cool,  northern  forest,  and  flow, 
now  swift,  now  peaceful,  till  they  join 
those  vast  inland  seas,  Superior,  Hur- 
on, Erie,  Ontario,  whose  waters  are 
in  turn  borne  by  the  broad  St.  Law- 
rence to  the  ocean. 

Of  beauty  and  variety  of  scene,  On- 
tario has  much  to  entice  the  footsteps 
of  the  traveller ;  while  the  qualities 
of  its  pure  northern  air,  make  its  cli- 
mate invigorating  and  delightful. 

The  tourist  starts  as  a  rule  with  Nia- 
gara Falls,  partly  because  of  its  cele- 
brated beauties,  and  also  because  usu- 
ally it  lies  directly  in  the  path  of  tra- 
vel. After  viewing  this  attraction  and 
the  magnificent  Niagara  River,  his 
course  will  probably  be  across  Lake  On- 
tario, a  distance  of  45  miles,  to  the  city 
of  Toronto,  the  Provincial  capital.  To- 
ronto is  a  convenient  centre,  for  from 
thence  he  may  proceed  East,  West  or 
North,  as  inclination  directs. 

The  eastern  route    is  preferably  by 
boat  along  the  north  shore  of  Lake  On- 
tario, past  Port  Hope,  Trenton,  Belle- 
ville, Picton.and  Kingston,  all  pleasant 
summer  resorts,  to  the  River  St.  Law- 
rence.    Here  the  famous  archipelago 
of  the  "Thousand 
Islands "    is    en- 
tered.     For  fifty 
miles  the    vessel 
picks      its      way 
among    these 
while  the  behold- 
er thinks  as  every 
is  entered  and  a 
fresh  vista  open- 
ed   to    the  view, 
that  each  is  more 
beautifulthan  the 
last.  i.  That    this 
is  a  famous  sum- 
mering place  is  at 
)td.  once    apparent 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

frocn  the  homes  that  have  been  built 
either  among  the  pine  trees,  or  perched 
on  rocky  buffs,  or  half  hidden  in  the 
beautiful  bays. 

Soon  after  passingthe  town  of  Brock- 
ville,  the  vessel  enters  the  first  of  a 
long  series  of  rapids.  The  passage 
by  steamship  through  the  churning, 
foaming  breakers  is  certainly  a  most 
novel  experience;  but  there  is  little 
danger    under    the    guidance    of    the 

competent  pilot.  The  last  of  the  ser- 
ies of  rapids  is  the  far-famed  Lachine, 
which  is  the  finest  of  all. 

After  the  passage  of  the  rapids  is 
made,  the  city  of  Montreal  is  soon 
reached,  which  at  the  present  time  is 
the  head  of  ocean  navigation. 

From  Lachine,  a  pleasant  trip  may 
be  made  up  the  Ottawa  River,  which 
forms  the  boundary  between  Ontario 
and  Quebec,  to  the  city  of  Ottawa. 

Digitized  by  Google 


It  is  to  St.  Anne,  just  above 
the  Lachine  rapids,  that  Moore 
refers  in  his  beautiful  "  Cana- 
dian Boat  Song  :" 

"  Faintly  as  tolls  the  evening 

Our  voices  keep  tune  and  our 

oars  keep  time. 
Soon  as  the    woods  on  shore 

look  dim. 
We'll  sing  at  St.   Anne's  our 

parting  hymn. 
Row,      brothers,       row,      the 

stream  runs  fast, 
The  Rapids  are  near  and  the 
ALLS— THE  WHIRLPOOL  RAPIDS.  daylight's  past." 

is  a  majestic  stream,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  Dominion, 
i  truly  delightful.     Ottawa,  the    capital   of  the  Dominion,  is  a 

most  attractive  point.      The  magnificent  Gi 
high  bluff  overlooking    the  river,    the    Chaudi 
business,  are 
all  extremely 
Interesting  fea- 

a  day  spent 
rambling  about 
the  capital  a 
very    pleasing 

Nowhere  in 
Ontario  will 
there  be  found 
scenery  more 
imposing  than 
that  of  the  Up- 



:and  deep  are  its  ' 

waters,  fierce 
■and  strong  its 
rapids,  many 
-and  beautiful 
its  islands, 
while  its  banks, 
high,  precipi- 
tous and  tree- 
covered,  vie  at 
times  with 
those  of  the 
famous  S ague- 
forms  a  drain- 
-age  basin  for 
thousands  of 
miles  of  virgin 
forest,  and  it 
seems  to  carry 

with  it  much  of     _.^^^  Toronto  :  one  of  the  r.  *  o.  boats  running  » 
the  power  and  and  the  st.  Lawrence  between  Toronto  and 

grandeur  of  the 

great  lone  Northland  where  it  has  its  forest  is  borne  by  it  each  year  within 
source.  TheOttawaisone  of  thegreat  the  reach  of  civilization.  Here  the 
water  highways  of  the  lumbering  indus-  typical  French-Canadian  lumbermen 
try,  and  many  a  sturdy  monarch  of  the      will  be  met  with,  voyaging  in  their  flat- 



trie  Dear,  ana  its  waters  stiii  sacrea  to  tne  troui 

and  the  bass. 
Returning;  from  the  city  of  Ottawa,   there  is  no  piesanter  trip  than  through 
the  Rideau  chain  of  lakes  to   Kingston  on    Lake    Ontario.     These    lakes    are 
favorite  resorts  for  fishermen,  and  for  canoeing  and  camping  parties. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

The  attractions  of  Northern  Ontario 
are  unequalled  for  those  who  desire  to 
spend  the  summer  months  on  the  lakes 
or  in  the  woods,  under  canvas  by  the 
camp  fire,  or  in  summer  cottage  or 
hotel.  For  the  weary,  over-worked 
toiler  of  the  city,  the  healing  sunshine 
and  fresh  air  of  this  region  will  work 
wonders.  Here  is  Ontario's  fairyland— 
aland  of  thousands  of  lakes  and  streams 
and  myriads  of  islands — beautiful  at 
the  earliest  touch  of  spring,  wfien  the 
waters  are  still  cold  with  the  icy  cold- 
ness of  winter,  and  the  strong,  grace- 
ful trout  makes  mighty  leaps  in  Che 
fierce  rapid  ;  beautiful  in  the  soft,  warm 
summer  days,  when  one  succumbs  to 
the  sweetness  of  doing  nothing  ;  but 
most  beautiful  in  the  quiet,  sad  days  of 
autumn,  when  the  leaves  drop  reluct- 
tantly  from  the  trees,  and  no  sound 
mars  the  stillness  of  lake  and  hill  but 
the  crash  of  the  deer  as  he  breaks 
.  through  the  undergrowth.  The  song 
of  the  wind  in  the  trees,  the  odour  of 
the  pines,  the  lap,  lap  of  the  wave  on 
the  rocky  shore,  the  rhythmic  beat  of 
the  paddle,  are  as  the  voice  of  the  siren, 
and  compel  one  irresistibly  to  return  to 
Ontario's  Northland  with  each  succeed- 
ing i 

The  best  known  and  most  frequented 
resort  of  the  North  is  the  Muskoka 
Lake  region,  which  lies  about  one  hun- 
dred miles  directly  north  of  Toronto. 
This  beautiful  district  has  an  altitude  or 
several  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  Great  Lakes,  and  its  climate  Is 
therefore  particularly  invigorating. 
Lakes  Muskoka  and  Joseph,  the  lar- 
gest in  the  vicinity,  are  filled  with 
islands  and  indented  with  bays  and  pro- 
montories. Summer  cottages,  camps, 
and  hotels  are  very  numerous,  and  the 
fine  scenery,  pleasant  society,  excellent 
boating,  bathing,  and  fishing,  make  it 
an  ideal  spot  for  those  who  desire  the 
benefits  of  an  unconventional  outdoor 
life  during  the  hot  months  of  summer. 

Another  much  frequented  resort,  very 
similar  to  Mu.'ikoka  in  its  character- 
istics, is  to  be  found  at  Stony  Lake, 
a  little  north  of  Peterborough.  It  forms 
one  of  a  series  of  lakes  seventy  miles 
in  length,  known  as  the  Kawartha 
Lake  region.  These  waters  are  cele- 
brated for  their  fishing,  and  form  an 
excellent  route  for  a  canoe  trip. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  trips  by 
boat  that  Northern  Ontario  can  offer 
to  the  tourist  is  through  the  islands  of 
the  Georgian  Bay.     In  general  char* 




acter  they  resemble  those  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence River  and  the  Muskoka  Lakes,  but 
instead  of  one  thousand  islands  there 
are  thirty  thousand. 

The  Upper  Lakes  are  well  furnished 
with  steamboat  lines  and  the  tourist 
may  embark  eitherat  Owen  Sound  or  at 
Windsor.  The  route  lies  through  Lake 
Huron,  past  Great  Manitoulin  and 
other  islands  to  St.  Mary's  river,  by 
which  the  overflow  from  Lake  Superior 
is  conducted  into  the  Lower  Lakes.  At 
the  rapids,  which  occur   at  this  point. 

resorts.  Running  the  Ste.  Marie  rapids- 
in  an  Indian  canoe  is  an  exciting  ad- 
venture, indulged  in  by  visitors. 

Leaving  Sault  Ste.  Marie  for  Fort 
William,  the  steamships  take  their 
course  directly  across  the  widest  part 
of  Lake  Superior — which  is  far  more 
like  the  sea  than  a  fresh  water  lake — 
and  in  less  than  twenty  hours  come 
within  sight  of  the  rocky  bluff  of  Isle 
Royale  and  the  tremendous  purple 
promontory  of  Thunder  Cape — "The 
Giant    Asleep."     This    turreted    head- 

named  Sault  Ste.  Marie  by  the  French 
voyageurs  almost  three  centuries  ago, 
magnificent  locks  have  been  construct- 
ed on  both  the  Canadian  and  American 
sides,  by  means  of  which  steamers 
are  lifted  to  the  level  of  Lake  Su- 
perior. The  towns  of  Sault  Ste. 
Marie,  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  have 
grown  up  at  this  point,  where  three 
great  railways  now  converge,  and  they 
are  rapidly  becoming  important  com- 
mercial   centres  and  popular  summer 

land  shelters  the  large  indentation  of 
Thunder  Bay  and  affords  a  grand  har- 
bour which  has  been  taken  advantage 
of  to  form  the  principal  ports  upon  the 
north  shore  of  the  lake — Port  Arthur 
and  Fort  William.  Here  the  tourist 
will  find  good  hotel  accommodation, 
and  if  he  cares  to  stop  over,  he  can  go 
by  rail  to  Nepigon  river,  65  miles  east, 
to  which  celebrated  resort  for  trout 
fishermen  this  lake  tour  forms  an  excel- 
lent means  of  access. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


No.  XIIl.-MR.  JAMES  BAIN,  Jr. 

IN  the  making  of  a  library  there  are 
three  necessary  factors  :  a  collec- 
tion of  books,  a  librarian,  and  it  is  con- 
venient to  have  a  building.  The  value 
and  permanence  of  the  institution  will 
depend,  in  large  measure,  upon  the 
quality  of  the  librarian.  No  one  who 
frequentsalibrary,  either  for  the  borrow- 
ing or  the  consulting  of  books,  doubts 
this.  It  is  unnecessary,  if  it  were  al- 
lowable, to  enter  into  a  dissertation 
upon  libraries.  Canadians  are  familiar 
with  the  subject  from  personal  experi- 
ence. We  have  many  of  these  institu- 
tions in  the  land,  and  statistics  indicate 
that  they  are  well  patronized. 

Of  free  public  libraries  in  Canada 
the  most  valuable  and  extensive  is  that 
at  Toronto,  and  its  chief  librarian,  Mr. 
James  Bain,  Jr.,  after  seventeen  years 
of  incessant  and  unselfish  labour  in  his 
present  position,  possesses  a  career 
and  a  personality  that  amply  entitle 
him  to  a  place  in  any  list  of  Canadian 
notabilities.  Mr.  Bain  (I  learn  from 
"  Morgan  ")  was  born  in  London,  Eng- 
land, in  184a,  of  Scotch  parents.  He 
came  to  Canada  early  in  life,  and  was 
educated  in  Toronto.  If  in  those  days 
the  idea  of  a  free  library,  with  Mr.  Bain 
as  its  future  librarian,  had  occurred  to 
any  one,  he  would  have  been  put  in  the 
way  of  receiving  exactly  the  kind  of 
training  that  fell  to  his  lot.  After  being 
educated  in  the  best  schools  of  the  city, 
he  began  a  practical  knowledge  of 
books  under  his  father,  an  experienced 
bookseller.  Later  on  he  entered  the 
publishing  and  book  firm  of  Jas.  Camp- 
bell &  Son,  and  was  sent  to  England 
as  buyer  for  the  house.  He  conducted 
a  branch  establishment  for  this  firm  in 
London  for  several  years,  and  in  1878 
entered  into  partnership  with  Nimmo, 
the  London  publisher,  the  firm  being 
Nimmo  &  Bain.  It  was  on  the  disso- 
lution of  this  firm  in  i88z  that  Mr.  Bain 
returned  to  Canada,  and  in  the  follow- 

ing year,  on  the  foundation  of  the  To- 
ronto Public  Library,  he  was  appointed 
its  first  librarian.  1  have  been  par- 
ticular in  mentioning  these  details,  be- 
cause a  mere  recital  of  the  facts  defines 
so  well  the  nature  of  the  training  he  has 
received  in  the  buying,  selling  and  pub- 
lishing of  books.  In  short,  Mr.  Bain 
is  a  typical  bookman.  He  has  passed 
practically  his  whole  life  among  books, 
and  being  an  omnivorous  and  industri- 
ous reader  his  knowledge  is  wide,  ac- 
curate and  thorough.  As  the  adviser 
and  chief  official  of  the  board  of  citizens 
who  are  entrusted  by  the  taxpayers 
with  the  executive  control  of  the  library, 
Mr.  Bain's  services  to  the  public  must 
have  been  of  great  value.  The  popula- 
tion of  Toronto  is  partly  industrial, 
partly  commercial,  and  partly  a  com- 
munity of  university  men  and  scholars. 
It  consists  mainly  of  an  intelligent 
well-to-do  class,  with  a  standard  of 
education  above  the  average.  As  the 
library  is  the  constant  resort  of  uni- 
versity students,  literary  men,  scientific 
inquirers,  and  others  with  serious  work 
on  hand — who  are  on  a  higher  plane 
than  the  thousands  who,  like  myself, 
read  for  amusement — it  is  evident  that 
the  books  have  been  well  chosen,  and 
that  the  library  is  abreast  of  modern 
requirements.  It  contains  over  120,- 
000  volumes.  The  time,  the  knowledge, 
and  the  energy  of  the  librarian  are  at 
the  disposal  of  all  sorts  and  conditions 
of  men  who  are  earnestly  investigating 
any  branch  of  study,  and  I  have  heard 
many  a  grateful  tribute  to  hts  services 
in  this  respect. 

Mr.  Bain  is  a  singularly  modest  man 
— singularly  because  it  has  become  so 
firmly  established  a  proposition  in  these 
days  that  the  world  takes  you  at  your 
own  valuation,  that  genuine  restraint 
in  the  delicate  art  of  self-puffery  is  not 
a  common  quality.  The  probability  is 
that  if  you  asked   Mr.  Bain   who  was 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


chiefly  responsible  for  the  success  of 
the  library,  he  would  mention  Mr.  Hal- 
lam,  or  some  of  the  other  public-spirit- 
ed members  of  the  board,  who  have 
judiciously  helped  the  institution  to 
gain  its  present  position.  Of  his  own 
share  in  the  work  you  would  hear  ab- 
solutely nothing.  In  no  respect  has 
the  librarji  been  more  wisely  conducted 
than  in  the  wealth  of  Canadian  mater- 
ial which  has  been  gathered  together. 
It  contains,  I  believe,  the  most  valu- 
able collection  of  Canadian  books  to  be 
found  on  this  continent,  and  there  are, 
besides,  some  manuscripts  of  histori- 
cal worth  and  importance.  Mr.  Bain 
has,  it  is  clear,  a  thorough  acquaint- 
ance with  Canadian  history  and  biblio- 
graphy, and  is  a  close  and  careful 
student  of  these  subjects.  He  is,  in 
spite  of  his  ancestry  and  residence  for 
years  abroad,  a  Canadian  to  the  core, 
and  his  attachment  to  this  country  is 
not  the  least  among  his  qualificatio 
as  a  librarian.     He   keeps,  it  i 

a  watchful  eye  ever  open  for  opportuni- 
ties to  add  to  the  treasures  of  the 
library.  An  anecdote  is  related  to  show 
how,  on  one  occasion,  he  disianced 
several  competitors,  including:  the  Gov- 
ernment of  Ontario.  When  ilieD.  W. 
Smith  manuscripts  were  offered  for  sale 
in  London  some  years  ago  several  bids 
were  put  in.  The  Ontario  Government 
was  among  the  bidders.  A  member  of 
the  Ministry  happened  to  be  in  London 
at  the  time,  and  sallied  forlh  to  get  the 
prize.  But  he  and  other  eager  seekers 
were  met  ivith  :  "  Vou  are  too  late. 
The  mss.  are  now  the  property  of  the 
Toronto  Library.  Mr.  Bain  ordered 
them  by  cable." 

Dealing  with  Mr.  Bain  in  his  official 
capacity  I  have  spoken  in  moderate 
terms — doing,  perhaps,  less  than  jus- 
tice to  those  sterling  qualilies  as  a  pub- 
lic servant  which  have  gained  for  him 
so  distinctive  a  place  in  the  communily 
— in  order  that  a  word  might  be  said 
about  the  man  himself.     Hts  energy 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



enables  him  to  get  though  a  great  deal 
of  work.  During  many  years,  first  as 
secretary,  latterly  as  treasurer  and 
vice-president,  he  has  been  a  staunch 
friend  of  the  Canadian  Institute.  He 
is  a  prominent  member  of  the  Scottish 
societies  of  Toronto.  He  is  an  hon- 
orary member  of  the  library  Associ- 
ation of  the  United  Kingdom  and  of 
the  Minnesota  Historical  Society,  an 
active  member  and  Canadian  represen- 
tative of  the  American  Manuscript 
Commission  and  an  ordinary  member 
of  about  twenty  English  and  American 
societies.  He  lent  a  vigorous  hand 
in  organizing  the  meeting  of  the  Bri- 
tish Association  at  Toronto  in  1897, 
and  was  the  local  treasurer  of  that 
body.  He  has  written  a  number  of 
monographs  on  historical  and  other 
questions  in  a  perspicuous  and  fluent 
literary  style.  In  the  literary  life  of  the 
city  he  fills  no  small  place,  and  his  opin- 
ion is  sought,  not  in  vain,  by  all  in  need 
of  counsel,  research,  and  judgment  in 
the  prosecution  of  literary  work.  For  one 
whohasno  association  with  politics,  Mr. 
Bain  is  admirably  posted  on   political 

.en,  and  events,  thus  dispel- 
ling the  illusion  that  to  be  in  close  touch 
with  the  public  movements  of  the  time 
you  must  belong  to  one  party  or  the 
other.  On  the  question  of  the  British 
connection,  however,  no  man  holds 
more  pronounced  views,  and  Mr.  Bain 
has  always  shared  to  the  full  the  senti- 
ment of  attachment  to  British  insti- 
tutions and  ideals  that  dominates  the 

In  social  life  it  would  be  hard  to  find 
a  more  congenial  companion.  A  good 
listener,  but  an  equally  good  raconteur, 
a  keen  relish  for  genuine  fun,  a  mind 
stored  with  anecdote  and  literary  remi- 
niscences, a  kindly  and  dignified  man- 
ner touched  with  the  flavour  of  that  fine 
old-fashioned  courtesy  one  sometimes 
associates  with  the  old  world  rather 
than  the  new,  are  a  few  of  the  charac- 
teristics that  have  drawn  about  him  a 
host  of  appreciative  friends.  He  is  now 
in  the  vigour  and  prime  of  later  life 
with  many  years  of  service  and  useful 
activity  before  him.  The  generations 
to  come  will  hold  him  in  grateful 

A.H.U.  Colquhmtn. 


By  Etta  Callaghan- 

WE  had  been  chatting  together  some^ 
time  before  I  discovered  her  ad- 
vanced ideas  of  womanhood.  Then  we 
differed  on  some  little  point,  and  I  hap- 
pened to  add,  ' '  There  is  not  a  particle  of 
the  '  New  Woman  '  about  me,  not  that 
I  mean  to  infer  that  there  is  a  touch  of 
it  about  you  either."  She  replied, 
"  But  there  is  more  than  a  '  touch  '  of 
it  about  me  ;  I  am  a  new  woman,  out 
and  out."  1  immediately  became  on 
the  qui  vive  for  new  impressions,  for 
this  was  the  first  time  I  had  encountered 
one  who  was  avowedly  an  out-and-out 
ne'w  woman. 

She  did  not  look  in  the  least  like 
one.  The  new  woman,  as  she  existed 
in  my  imagination,  wore  clumsy  boots, 
a  short  skirt,  an  ill-fitting  bodice,  and 
— invariably — spectacles,  not  a  becom- 

ing pince-nez,  but  uncompromising 
spectacles,  hooked  securely  behind  the 
ears.  She,  on  the  contrary,  had  no 
glasses,  and,  as  she  occasionally  tap- 
ped her  foot,  I  noticed  that  she  wore  a 
dainty  pair  of  fine  kid  slippers.  As 
she  moved  across  the  room  to  find  a 
book  from  which  to  illustrate  a  point, 
I  knew  by  the  gentle  frou-frou  that 
she  wore  a  silk  petticoat,  and  when 
she  resumed  her  chair  I  saw  that  her 
well-cut  serge  skirt  had  a  scarlet  taf- 
feta lining  with  a  foot  frill  edged  with 
two  rows  of  black  velvet  b^b£  ribbon. 
Her  siik  blouse  had  ruchings  of  chiffon 
on  it,  and  it  had  such  a  pretty,  soft 
collar — my  imaginary  new  woman 
wore  stiff  collars  and  Ascot  ties. 

Judging  by  appearances  I  was  in- 
clined to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  her  as- 




sertion  ;  but  she  assured  me  that  she 
was  ID  earnest,  and  she  began  forth- 
with to  talk  so  learnedly  that  I  almost 
had  to  ^asp  for  breath.  I  realized 
that  I  was  hopelessly  behind  the  times, 
because  so  much  of  what  she  said  was 
"Greek"  to  me. 

She  talked  about  "  the  woman  move- 
ment, "  and  "the  economics. of  women, " 
and  many  other  unfamiliar  topics,  but 
the  phrase  "economics  of  women" 
occurred  so  often  that  I  felt  I  must 
expose  my  ig'norance  and  ask  the  mean- 
ing of  the  term  if  1  were  not  to  lose 
the  gist  of  her  remarks.  As  nearly  as 
I  could  make  out,  "the  eoonomics  of 
women  "  means  something  about  every 
woman  being  in  a  position  to  support 
herself;  but  1  am  even  yet  rather 
'hazy  about  its  exact  import,  as  she 
was  so  thoroughly  conversant  with  the 
subject  that  it  seemed  too  trivial  to 
need  much  explanation. 

In  common  parlance,  she  thinks  we 
are  too  ready  to  dance  to  whatever 
tune  the  men  may  choose  to  play,  and 
she  says  the  result  is  that  we  lower 
their  ideals.  That,  if  we  are  content 
with  being  less  than  their  equals  intel- 
lectually, they  will  be  content  to  have 
us  remain  so,  but  that  if  we  study  to 
improve  our  minds  and  raise  our  stand- 
ard of  excellence  in  every  direction, 
they  will  be  compelled  to  raise  their 
standard  too,  and  the  result  will  be  a 
higher  intelligence  all  round. 

I  mildly  suggested  that,  instead  of 
feeling  that  they  must  study  to  keep 
pace  with  our  improved  intellects,  they 
might  turn  their  attention  to  those  girls 
who  were  willing  to  look  up  to  them 
on  their  pinnacle  of  intellectual  super- 
iority, but  she  assured  me  that  I 
was  mistaken. 

She  defined  marriage  as  "  an  excel- 
lent narcotic  for  disappointed  ambi- 
tion," and  when  I  insisted  upon  a  fur- 
ther elucidation  of  that  definition  she 
said  that  was  the  only  way  she  could 
account  for  the  fact  that  so  many  girls 
with  lofty  ideals  were  content  to  marry 
most  uninteresting  men,  and,  while 
letting  all  their  ambitions  go,  yet  ap- 
peared to  be  perfectly  happy.  Again  I 
ventured  a  protest  by  suggesting  that 

their  ambition  might  merely  be  turned 
in  another  direction,  rather  than  that 
it  had  dropped  altogether.  But  she 
would  not  agree  to  this,  and  repeated 
her  "narcotic  theory," 

Then  she  told  me  that  the  key-note 
to  the  new  woman  movement  was  in- 
dividuality, arjfl  she  gave  me  to  under- 
stand that,  to  realize  our  highest  good, 
we  must  strengthen  and  broaden,  and 
raise  our  individuality  so  that  we  may 
be  able  to  cope  with  all  the  great  ques- 
tions of  the  day,  and  to  take  our  place 
on  the  platform  of  intellectual  equality 
with  the  men. 

I  suppose  1  ought  to  have  been  in- 
spired with  an  ambition  for  a  seat 
□n  that  platform.  Perhaps' because  1 
am  behind  the  times  in  this  woman 
movement,  or  perhaps  because  I  am 
mentally  indolent,  I  felt,  as  she  pictur- 
ed it  all,  that  I  should  much  prefer  a 
seat  in  the  audience  where  I  might 
look  up  at  that  platform  and  hear  the 
others  carry  on  the  discussion. 

And  then  she  talked  of  the  many- 
sidedness  of  life,  of  the  numerous  out- 
side interests  with  which  women  might 
connect  themselves,  and  of  all  the  good 
they  can  do  for  humanity. 

When  she  turned  the  conversation 
into  another  channel,  it  was  not  be- 
cause she  had  exhausted  her  supply  of 
arguments,  but,  I  fear,  because  my 
ideas  were  not  sufficiently  advanced  to 
pursue  the  subject  any  further.  Each 
carried  away  her  own  impressions  of 
the  other.  1  dare  say  she  considers  that 
I  am  hopelessly  hedged  in  a  narrow 
groove  of  conventionality,  and  that  my 
life  is  as  unattractive  and  uninteresting 
as  ruts  are  supposed  to  be.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  found  her  most  profound- 
ly interesting.  She  talked  like  a  book 
and  she  made  me  feel  such  a  shallow, 
incompetent  sort  of  individual,  in  need 
of  a  mental  tonic  of  some  kind.  But, 
for  all  that,  1  think  I  should  become 
very  tired  of  being  a  new  woman,  for 
her  course  is  like  that  of  a  cyclist  tak- 
ing a  short  cut  through  a  strange  field, 
where  stones  and  thorns  and  rough 
places  are  to  be  encountered  at  every 
turn  of  the  wheel. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


THERE  is  perhaps  no  foreif^n  poet 
who  is  such  a  favourite  with  Eng- 
lish readers  as  Heine.  He  is  at  once 
as  sentimental  as  Orlando,  and  as 
cynical  as  Jaques.  It  is  in  his  infinite 
variety  that  his  charm  lies.  He  was 
himself  the  strangest  "bundle  of  con- 
trasts "  that  ever  lived  :  a  Jew  who 
ivas  a  pagan ;  a  German  who  pos- 
sessed  the  esprit  gauloii ;  a  man  of 
feeling  who  said  that  love  was  "  hell." 
With  Heine's  prose  we  have  here 
nothing  to  do,  only  to  recall  a  few  of 
his  songs. 

Heinrtch  Heine  was  born  in  DUsseU 
dorf  on  December  the  thirteenth,  1799. 
For  his  own  purpose  he  afterward  said, 
he  iirst  saw  the  light  on  New  Year's 
Day,  1800;  and  so  ironically  called 
himself  "  one  of  the  first  men  of  the 

His  father,  Samson  Heine,  though 
a  somewhat  slack,  feckless  individual, 
was  a  fine  musician  and  greatly  in- 
terested in  matters  of  art.  From  his 
mother  Heine  inherited  his  intellectual 
qualities.  She  was  a  woman  of  high 
mental  endowment.  Though  a  Jewess 
by  race,  she  was  in  religion  a  Deist  of 
the  age  of  Voltaire.  She  was  very 
ambitious  for  the  future  of  her  child- 
ren, three  boys  and  a  girl,  the  eldest 
of  whom  was  Heinrich. 

It  had  been  at  first  intended  that  the 
boy  should  enter  the  army,  but  with 
the  downfall  of  Napoleon  that  career 
was  closed,  and  Heine's  mother  was 
forced  to  seek  out  something  else  for 
her  clever  young  son.     In  the  light  of 

I  err 

later  days  it  is  arousing  to  learn  that 
the  Church  was  seriously  considered. 
Luckily  both  for  Heine  and  the  Church 
the  proposal  was  dropped.  With 
medicine  he  would  have  nothing  to  do. 
At  last,  in  1816,  he  was  installed  in 
the  banking  house  of  his  Uncle  Solo- 
mon in  Hamburg. 

Heine  had  already  had  a  boyish  love 
affair  with  a  strange  girl  called  Sefchen, 
the  daughter  of  a  long  line  of  herecli- 
tary  executioners,  from  whom  the 
taint  of  bloodguiltiness  kept  away 
less  romantic  youths.  So  on  his  arri- 
val in  Hamburg  he  was  ready  to  fall 
at  once  desperately  in  love  with  his 
cousin  Amalie,  a  girl  of  great  beauty 
and  charm.  But  when  her  father, 
Heine's  uncle,  found  that  his  nephew 
had  no  business  talent  whatever,  and 
that  instead  of  adding  up  his  columns 
of  figures  he  was  engaged  in  making 
love  songs,  the  old  banker  decided  it 
was  time  to  get  rid  of  him.  He  offered 
to  help  Heinrich  with  five  hundred 
thalers  a  year  if  he  would  undertake 
the  study  of  law.  As  he  had  no  other 
prospects,  Heine  consented,  and  in 
1819  set  out  for  Bonn,  carrying  with 
him  his  unfortunate  manuscripts. 

Heine's  college  days  were  not  entire- 
ly given  over  to  the  assimilation  of 
Justinian.  Most  of  his  hours  were 
devoted  to  reading  poetry,  ancient, 
medieeval  and  modem.  He  was  writ- 
ing steadily  by  this  time.  His  hopeless 
affection  for  Amalie  seems  to  have 
thrown  a  gloom  over  his  mind,  and  a 
great  many  disconsolate  lyrics  were 
the  result.  It  is  generally  thought  that 
the  famous  romance,  "Mountain 
Echo,"  contains  a  reflection  of  his 
despair : 


Digitized  byGoOgIC 


A  horseman  rides  adown  the  glen, 
Jaded  his  charfter  brave  i 
"  Ride  1,  alas,  to  my  dar1ing;'s  arms, 
Or  into  the  dark  grave?  " 
And  echo  answer  gave  : 
"  To  the  dark  grrave  !  " 

And  forward  moves  the  cavalier, 
A  deep  sigh  rends  his  breast : 
"  If  I  so  soon  must  to  the  grave, — 
Be't  so,  the  grave  is  rest  I  " 

'      A  tear  rolls  down  the  cavalier's  cheek, 
A  tear  that  tells  of  woe  : 
"  And  if  in  the  grave  alone  is  rest. 
Then  I  to  the  grave  will  go." 
Hollow  Ihe  echo  and  low  : 
■'  To  the  g^rave  will  go  1 " 

An  odd  little  poem,  called  "  Instruc- 
tion," gives  what  is  probably  Heine's 
later  attitude  towards  his  affair  with 
his  cousin  Amalic.  It  is  marked  by 
that  strange  mingling;  of  sentiment  and 
cynicism  for  which  the  author  is  fam- 
ous : 

Mother  to  little  bee  : 
"  Ware  of  lights  ever  be  1 " 
But  what  the  mother  said 
Soon  left  the  wee  bee's  head. 

Whirr  round  the  light  he  does, 
Whirr  with  a  buli-buii-buzi. 

Mother's  call  hears  n»t  he  : 
"Little  bee,  little  heel" 

Youthful  blood,  silly  blood 
Flies  in  the  flaming  flood, 
In  the  flame  heedlessly, — 
"  Little  bee,  little  bee  1 " 

PUres  the  liffht  red  anew. 
Fire  bums  as  fires  do— 
"  Ware  of  maids  ever  be. 
Laddie  wee,  Uddie  wee  t " 

After  the  wandering  habit  of  the  Ger- 
man student,  Heine  shifted  in  1820 
from  Bonn  to  Gottingen,  but  becoming 
involved  in  a  duel  he  was  rusticated, 
and  he  moved  on  to  Berlin.  As  he  had 
already  acquired  some  little  fame,  he 
was  taken  up  by  the  fashionable  liter- 
ary circle  of  the  Prussian  capital.  At 
the  house  of  Frau  Varnhagen  he  came 
into  contact  with  the  most  cultured  and 
intellectual  society  in  Germany.  The 
impulse  he  received  is  evident  by  his 
publication  in  1833  of  two  tragedies 
with    a    "Lyrical    Interlude."       This 

"  Interlude  "  contained  by  far  the  best 
work  Heine  had  yet  done.  The  tiny 
poem  which  follows  can  hardly  be 
matched  in  modern  literature  tor  its 
wonderful  power  of  suggestion  : 

A  pine  tree  standelh  lonely 
On  a  bare  northern  height, 
It  slumbereth  ;  while  ice  and  snowflakes 
Are  veiling  it  in  white. 

And  of  a  palm  it  dreameth. 
That  far  in  an  Orient  land 
Lonely  and  silent  moumelh 
On  a  burning  rocky  strand. 

One  Other  example  from  the  "  Inter- 
lude "  exhibits  Heine's  lifelong  delight 
in  folksong  and  myth.  The  original 
of  these  few  .verses  breathes  a  melody 
which  it  would  demand  an  English 
Heine  to  reproduce  in  translation  : 

From  an  enchanted  land. 

Where  giant  Sowers  languish 
In  golden  evening  light. 
And  wan  with  love's  sweet  anguish 
Pine  in  each  other's  sight. 

Where  all  Ihe  trees  are  challering 
And  loud  in  concert  sing  ; 
And  laughing  streams  are  pattering, 
In  rhythmic  music  ring  ; — 

And  sweeter  songs  are  trilling 
Than  thou  hast  ever  heard, 
Till  with  fond  yearning  thrilling 
Thine  heart  is  fondly  stirred. 

O  that  I  might  come  yonder, 
And  there  my  heart  set  free, 
And  loosed  from  pain  might  wander. 
And  happy  ever  be  I 

In  dreams  I  see  it  oflen. 
That  land  of  fancy  fair, 
But  sunrise  sees  it  soften 
And  vanish  into  air. 

While  in  Berlin  Heine  had  been  very 
reckless  of  his  health,  and  in  1823  he 
left  the  city  for  the  seaside  at  Cux- 
haven.  On  his  road  thither  he  passed 
through  Hamburg,  and  there  he  was 
overwhelmed  by  a  flood  of  old  painful 
memories  about  his  love  for  Amalie. 
The  literary  result  of  this  sad  return  to 
the  scene  of  his  "  Youthful  Sorrows" 
was  the  collection  of  songs  called  the 
"Home-coming."  A  note  of  r^fret 
sounds  through  them  all,  now  reckless. 



DOW  cynical,  now  fanciful.  The  most 
famous  of  all  Heine's  soogs,  the 
"  Lorelei,"  is  to  be  found  in  the 
"  Home-coming."  As  everyone  is  fa- 
miliar with  it,  however,  I  have  chosen 
another : 

As  the  moon  with  fiashinfj;  effort 
Strugeles  Ihroug'h  the  clouded  sky, 
So  before  me  comes  &  picture 
Out  of  days  \oa%  since  g'one  by. 

On  the  deck  we  all  were  sitting-, 
Down  the  stately  Rhine  we  sailed, 
Glowed  the  banks  in  summer  verdure 
As  the  evening  sunshine  failed. 

At  her  feet  there  I  aat  musing, 
Hild  Ihe  Udy  was  and  fair  ; 
O'er  her  pale  and  lovely  feature* 
Played  the  red-grold  sunset  air. 

Bells  were  ringfing;  boys  were  singing, 
Wonderful  the  joy  and  strange  ! 
Grew  the  heavens  ever  bluer. 
Took  the  souls  wider  range. 

Like  a  fairy  tale  were  passing 
Field,  town,  forest,  mountain  high  : — 
And  I  saw  them  alt  reflected. 
Mirrored  in  the  lady's  eye. 

It  was  Heine's  first  sight  of  the  sea 
at  Cuxhaven  which  struck  an  almost 
untouched  chord  in  German  song. 
Till  then  the  mystery,  the  ceaseless 
change,  the  subtle  suggest iveness  of 
the  ocean,  had  been  unnoticed  in  the 
Fatherland.  Heine's  sea  poetry  is 
written  in  an  odd  irregular  metre  with- 
out rhyme,  which  is  extraordinarily  suc- 
cessful in  his  hands,  but  such  lines,  as 
"Sunset"  are  very  difficult  to  render 
at  all  adequately  into  English  : 

The  sun  all  lovely 
Mas  peacefully  sunk  down  into  the  sea  ; 
The  weltering  waters  already  are  dyed 
By  the  gloomy  night  ; 
Only  the  glow  of  sunset 
Strews  them  o'er  with  golden  lights. 
And  the  roaring  strength  of  the  flood 
Presses  ashore  the  foaming  billows, 
Which  merrily,  hastily  gambol. 
Like  the  fleecy  flocks  of  lambs. 
Which  Ihe  shepherd-boy,  singing  at  evening. 
Drives  to  the  fotdj 

From  the  time  of  the  publication  of 
the  Book  of  Songs  in  1827,  in  which 
may  be  found  the  originals  of  all  the 
preceding  selections,  Heine  led  till  1831 
a  wandering  life.      He  was  by  turns  in 

England,  Italy,  Germany  and  Heligo- 
land. Then  came  the  Revolution  of 
July,  and  Heine  could  not  keep  himself 
away  from  Paris,  There  he  arrived  in 
May  ofi83i.  In  Paris  Heine  met  with 
continuous  success.  His  work  was  of 
all  kinds  :  criticism,  history  and  special 
foreign  correspondence. 

No  more  verse  appeared  till  1844, 
when  th«  "New  Poems"  were  pub- 
lished. The  same  year  also  saw  the 
production  of  "Germany"  and  "  Atta 
Troll."  The  following  dainty  little 
song  is  from  the  "New  Poems :  " 

Stars  with  tiny  feet  and  golden 
Wander  on  high  with  step  so  light, 
Lest  they  should  the  earth  awaken 
Sleeping  in  the  lap  of  night. 

Listening  stand  the  silent  forests. 
Every  leaf  a  verdant  ear  ! 
And  its  shadowy  arm  the  rn 
As  if  dreaming,  stretches  m 

Hark  t  what  broke  the  stillness  yonder  ? 
In  my  heart  the  echo  rings. 
Is't  my  loved  one's  voice,  or  only 
But  a  nightingale  that  sings  ? 

Though  Heine  during  his  long  stay 
in  Paris  had  never  ceased  to  heap  ridi- 
cule on  Germany,  despite  his  forced 
gaiety,  his  genuine  heart-sickness  of 
exile  finds  a  pathetic  echo  in  one  of  the 
"New  Poems :  " 

When  shall  I  have  ceased  (o  wander, 
Where  at  last  my  place  of  rest  ? 
Under  southern  palms  far  yonder. 
Or  beside  the  Rhine's  loved  breast? 

Ever  on  I  The  heavens  cover 
Wandering  steps  by  land  or  sea  ; 
And  like  funeral  tapers  hover 
Still  the  stars  by  night  o'er  me. 

In  1845  Heine  was  attacked  by  a 
first  slight  stroke  of  paralysis.  In  the 
next  year  he  went  to  the  Pyrenees  in 
search  of  health,  but  the  quest  was 
v%in.  One  May  day  in  1848  he  took 
his  last  walk — "the  last  day  of  his 
life,"  he  himself  calls  it.  From  that 
hour  on  for  eight  endless  years  the 
poor  invalid  lay  bolstered  up  with  pil- 

.         lianzedbvGoOt^lc 


lows  on  his  "  mattress-g^rave."  He  was 
faithfully  nursed  by  his  wife,  for  Heiae 
had  married,  some  years  previously,  a 
g;aybut  loyal-hearted  Pansienne  named 
Mathilde  Mirat.  His  case  was  utterly 
hopeless  ;  death  was  the  only  possible 
outcome,  but  still  the  lagging:  months 
dragged  oo,  each  crushing  him  under 
its  burden  of  unbearable  pain,  yet  no 
release  came.  He  managed  to  write 
occasional  letters  to  his  mother,  who 
was  still  alive  in  Hamburg,  but  not  a 
word  about  his  illness  escaped  his  lips. 
Though  Heine  was  a  wreck  physical- 
ly, his  mind  was  as  active  as  ever. 
The  work  he  produced  under  such  con- 
ditions was  tainted  by  an  increasing 
cynicism,  a  growing  recklessness,  and 
a  regrettable  tendency  to  coarseness. 
His  lack  of  any  kind  of  real  faith  is 
only  too  evident.  The  rhytneless  poem 
"Asra"may  serve  as  an  example  of 
what  Heine  was  still  capable  of.  The 
note  of  despair  at  the  end  is  not  sur- 
prising, and  no  doubt  shadows  forth 
the  hopelessness  of  his  own  doom  : 

Daily  went  the  wonder-lovely 
SultAD  s  dau{;hter  back  and  forward 
In  the  evelide  at  the  cistern, 
Where  the  waters  white  are  plashing. 

Daily  stood  the  young'  slave  yonder 
In  the  evetide  a.t  the  cistern, 
Where  the  waters  white  are  plashing  ; 
Daily  grew  he  pale  and  paler. 

Then  one  evening  stepped  the  princeM 
Up  to  him  with  hurried  question  : 
"  Thy  name  would  I  know,  I  pray  thee. 
And  thy  homeland,  and  thy  kindred  I " 

Spake  the  slave,  "  I'm  called  Mohammed, 
I  am  hither  come  from  Yemen  ; 
i  spring  from  that  race  of  Asra, 
Who  die  when  they  love,  'tii  fated." 

Heine  had  ever  been  a  mocker.  In 
youth  he  laughed  at  his  own  senti- 
mental woes  ;  in  mid-life  his  jeer  was 
turned  on  his  countrymen  ;  and  now  in 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  he  turned  to 
survey  the  whole  of  human  life,  and 
his  conclusions  as  to  the  fate  of  the 
righteous  man  are,  to  say  the  least, 
not  those  of  that  other  "  sweet  singer 
of  Israel,"  David,  the  poet-king  : 

Approaches  death — I  make  confession 
Of  what  to  hide  eternally, 
My  pride  forbade  :  for  thee,  for  thee 
My  heart  still  beat,  'twas  thy  possession  ! 

The  coffin's  ready,  and  they  lower  me 
Into  the  grave.     Peace  have  I  now. 
Yet  thou,  Marie,  Marie,  yei  thou 
Wilt  think  of  me  and  oft  weep  o'er  me. 

Fair  hands  Ihou  wrin^ 'st  by  grief  o'ertaken 
—Comfort  thyself— That  is  the  fate. 
The  fate  of  man :— The  good,  the  great, 
The  fiilr  end  wretchedly  forsaken. 

In  February  of  1856  the  poor  pa- 
tient's life>flame  was  seen  to  be  burn- 
ing low,  and  early  on  the  morning  of 
the  seventeenth,  while  he  slept,  it 
flickered  silently  out. 



SEE,  the  night  is  beginning  to  fail. 
The  stars  have  lost  half  of  their  glow, 
As  though  all  the  flowers  in  a  garden  did  pale 
When  a  rose  is  beginning  to  blow. 

And  the  breezes  that  herald  the  dawn, 

Blown  round  from  the  caverns  of  day, 

Lift  the  film  of  dark  from  the  heaven's  bare  lawn, 
Cool  and  sweet  as  they  come  up  this  way. 

And  this  mighty  green  bough  of  the  lake. 

Rocks  cool  where  the  morning  hath  smiled  ; 

While  this  dim,  misty  dome  of  the  world,  scarce  awake, 
Blushes  rose  like  the  cheek  of  a  child. 

WiUiam    Wilfi^d  Camfiim^O^Z 




*'CAY,  sir,  don't  you  think  you  had 
■^  better  lie  down  ?  Here  you  are 
just  in  the  line  of  the  lead  ?  " 

I  had  been  peering  through  the 
gloaming  trying  to  make  out  the  little 
Spurts  of  flame  flickering  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  foot  hills  |n  our  immediate 
front,  when  a  friendly  corporal  of  the 
42nd  Highlanders  touched  myshoulder, 
and  suggested  that  I  should  seek  the 
cover  of  a  ridge  of  sand  behind  which 
the  front  face  of  the  square  was  lying. 

There  was  not  much  cover  anywhere 
in  the  wretched  position  the  British 
force  found  itself  before  Tamai  on  the 
night  of  March  12th,  in  the  year  1S84. 
We  had  marched  from  Baker's  zeriba 
shortly  after  noon  till  sundown  over  a 
scorching,  stony  plain,  studded  here 
and  there  with  cactus  and  mimosa, 
right  straight  in  the  teeth  of  the  enemy; 
and  were  now  bivouacking  on  a  sandy 
patch  between  the  outlying  foot  hills 
and  the  base  of  the  chain  of  rugged 
volcanic  mountains  which  run  parallel 
to  the  whole  length  of  the  Red  Sea 
littoral.  The  enemy  were  already 
sighted  on  the  low  black  rocks  of  gran- 
ite and  syenite  in  our  front.  Splashes 
of  light  were  flickering  like  flecks  of 
fire  in  a  distant  hamlet  as  the  sinking 
sun  lights  up  its  window-panes. 

But  not  so  suggestive  of  peace  were 
thost  reflections  from   the  hills.     The 

broad  barbs  of  the  spears  of  Osman 
Digna's  warriors  gave  out  the  light, 
now  blood-red  with  the  dying  sun,  as 
if  already  reeking  with  gore. 

Presently  these  broad  shafts  of  fire 
seemed  to  move  forward,  and  the  Fuzzy 
Wuzzy  warriors  began  to  skirmish  in 
our  direction.  Springing  lightly  over 
the  scrub,  they  wriggled  along  on  their 
stomachs  when  coming  to  patches  of 
sand,  seeking  every  little  bit  of  cover 
of  rock  or  mimosa. 

Not  wishing  to  court  an  attack  till 
the  morrow,  the  General  ordered  our 
mountain  guns  to  open  fire.  A  few 
beautifully  placed  shrapnel  shells 
checked  the  advance  of  the  Arabs,  and 
knocked  the  devil  out  of  them  for  the 
night,  so  that  we  were  eventually  left 
in  peace  to  cook  our  rations. 

Mimosa  hushes  were  cut  down,  and 
a  zeriba  was  formed  round  our  position 
to  stop  a  sudden  inrush  on  the  part  of 
the  enemy.  Our  men  ate  their  sup- 
pers, smoked  their  pipes,  and  soon, 
rolling  themselves  up  in  their  blankets, 
courted  slumber.  The  wooing  was  not 
long  with  Mr.  Atkins  and  soon  the 
simmering,  heaving,  fretful  pulsations 
of  a  sleeping  army  was  heard  on  all 

I  was  not  well  pleased  with  our  posi- 
tion ;  to  me  it  seemed  excessively  in- 
secure.    On  our  right  flank  was  a  n 




of  rock  a  few  hundred  yards  distant, 
and  for  some  reason  not  occupied  by 
us.  In  our  front,  not  more  than  1,000 
yards  off,  were  some  6,000  of  the  most 
darinf^  fig;hting  men  in  the  world,  lying 
perdu  behind  the  cover  of  a  network  of 
black  boulders.  We  lay  out  in  the 
open,  on  a  plain  slig'htly  shelvinf^  up- 
ward towards  the  enemy  ;  an  excellent 
target  for  any  Arabs  bold  enoug'h  to 
creep  round  our  flank  and  occupy  that 
mass  of  rock  unsecured  by  us. 

I  had  already  planned  in  my  mind 
the  attack  which  the  Arab  might  make. 
A  galling  fire  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
from  the  ominous-looking  rocks  on 
our  right  rear,  while  a  few  thousand 
spearmen  should  rush  our  zeriba  with 
spears,  and  then  there  would  be  the 
devil  to  pay.  1  took  my  revolver  out 
of  its  case  and  kept  it  ready  to  hand. 

Did  I  sleep  ?  I  wonder  if  1  slept. 
That  unoccupied  rock  bothered  me.  It 
seemed  to  grow  into  a  mount^n  that 
grew  bigger  and  bigger  till  the  whole 
adjacent  ground  was  filled  with  its  im- 
mensity. Whether  1  had  slept  or  not 
1  now  found  myself  suddenly  and  very 
unmistakably  awake.  The  simmering 
niiiss  of  humanity  around  me  was 
now  also  on  its  feet  and  very  wide 
awake.  The  force  with  the  low  growl 
of  expletives  peculiar  to  Tommy  Atkins 
when  disturbed  from  his  slumbers,  was 
struggling  to  fix  bayonets.  A  sharp 
rattle  of  musketry  from  the  foot  hills, 
the  shriek  of  bullets  overhead,  and  the 
distant  beating  of  war  drums,  were  the 
motive  of  Tommy's  sudden  awakening. 

1  looked  anxiously  towards  my  bite 
»oi>  the  rock.  It  was  still  unoccupied, 
and  so  far  we  were  safe.  We  stood 
to  our  arms  for  several  hours — it  was 
a  desultory  fight  all  on  one  side,  for  we 
never  returned  a  shot.  Like  summer 
rain,  the  enemy's  fire  would  patter 
away  to  a  few  dropping  shots,  when 
again  there  would  come  a  brisk  sprink- 
ling of  bullets. 

It  was  a  very  uncomfortable  situa- 
tion, for  motionless  troops  are  always 
uneasy  when  a  sharp  cry  there  or  a 
groan  here  tells  that  bullets  are  finding 
their  billets.  An  inanimate  farm  was 
carried  past  me  by  two  comrades  to- 

wards  the  red  lamp,  marking  the  doc- 
tor's quarters. 

Here  and  there  a  sharp  clatter  would 
notify  that  a  bullet  had  struck  a  mess 
tin  or  commissariat  box.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  the  square  a  horse  which  had 
been  shot  in  the  withers,  lay  struggling, 
vainly  trying  to  gain  his  feet.  Pit-a- 
pat,  pit-a-pat,  the  bullets  kept  falling 
and  stirring  up  little  puffs  of  dust  on 
the  open  ground  in  front  of  the  zeriba. 

"  There  is  no  blooming  fun  in  this 
sort  of  fighting,"  Tommy  growled. 
"When  will  that  blooming  sun  come 
up  and  show  us  where  to  shoot  ?" 

I  had  at  the  moment  walked  up  to 
the  front  face  of  the  square,  when  my 
corporal  friend  already  alluded  to 
manifested  his  solicitude  for  my  per- 
sonal  safety.  Corporal  Tonbar,  for 
that  I  found  to  be  his  name,  had  now 
mysteriously  disappeared.  There  was 
no  one  else  of  a  communicative  turn 
of  mind  near  me,  for  the  men  were 
sullenly  dozing  in  spite  of  the  occasion- 
al twang  of  the  bullet. 

1  sprawled  on  the  sand  and  looked 
up  at  the  stars.  They  were  growing 
fainter  and  fainter ;  now  Venus  grew 
pale;  then  theGreat  Bearpassed  away; 
then  Orion  and  the  Southern  Cross  gra- 
dually waned  and  died  out  in  the  lilac 
dawn.  1  was  thinking  how  many  of 
us  would  be  looking  on  those  stars  be- 
fore another  dawn  melted  them  into 
space,  when  a  tall,  gaunt  figure,  carry- 
ing something  under  his  great  coat, 
strode  between  me  and  the  brightness 
of  the  coming  day.  Then  the  tall 
figure  stooped  down  and  whispered  : 
"Would  ye  like  a  wee  drap  o' rum, 
sir  ?"  It  was  my  good  friend,  the  Scot- 
tish corporal,  once  more. 

"  Dinna  be  feart,  sir,"  he  continued, 
"  tak'  sup.  Thae  Fuzzy  Wuzzies  hae 
spoilt  the  taste  o'  rum  for  at  least  one 
of  us.  So  it's  all  right ;  we  won't 
miss  it.      Drink!" 

1  took  a  long  pull  at  the  corporal's 
rum,  and  never  was  spirit  less  harmful ; 
it  drove  the  chill  of  the  night  from  my 
veins,  and  braced  me  up  for  the  com- 
ing struggle. 

"  My  worthy  friend,"  said  1  to  the 
corporal,   "  let  me  do  you  a  good  turn 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


for  this.  Come  and  see  me  at  the  home 
of  Levi,  the  famous  merchant  of  Sua- 
kio,  and  I  will  give  you  something 
better  than  Passover  cakes.  We  will 
drink  to  the  utter  defeat  of  the  Fuzzy 
Wuzzy  if  we  get  out  of  this." 

The  sun  came  up  at  last,  looking  in 
the  lingering  haze  of  the  plains  like  a 
large,  luminous,  over-ripe  apricot. 
The  enemy's  sharpshooters  slunk  back 
into  the  purple  shadows  of  the  Khor  as 
the  glorious  day  burst  upon  us.  Now 
left  in  peace  for  a  time,  our  men  pre- 
pared their  breakfasts ;  then  folded 
their  overcoats,  and  made  ready  for  the 
coming  fray. 

From  Baker's  zeriba  came  our  caval- 
ry right  in  the  eye  of  the  sun  ;  the 
handsome  face  of  their  gallant  leader, 
Herbert  Stewart,  radiant  with  the 
spirit  of  war  upon  it,  glowed  in  the 
morning  light. 

At  8.30  we  moved  out  from  the  zer- 
iba towards  the  enemy  ;  our  two  bri- 
gades in  echelon — the  second,  under 
General  Davis,  in  front,  the  first,  un> 
der  Buller,  about  seven  hundred  yards 
in  the  rear.  I  was  watching  BuUer's 
square  forming  up,  when  the  sound  of 
rapid  firing  was  heard  in  the  direction 
of  Davis's  square. 

Scudamore,  of  the  Times,  and  I  re- 
solved to  see  what  was  going  on  at  the 
front,  so  we  mounted  and  rode  towards 
the  leading  brigade.  Approaching  tt, 
«re  found  the  square  broken.  The 
front  face  of  it  and  part  of  the  right 
flank  had  charged  a  strong  force  of 
the  enemy,  which  had  sprung  up  out 
of  a  deep  nullah  about  a  hundred  yards 
in  our  front.  I  rode  up  behind  the 
65th  just  as  their  Rank  was  being 

Like  a  great  wave  striking  a  boulder, 
the  Arabs  had  re-bounded  and  were 
swirling  round  our  flanks,  rushing 
through  a  great  gap  at  the  angle  be- 
tween the  front  and  the  right  face  of 
the  65th,  which  regiment  had  been 
hurled  back  by  the  force  of  the  dervish 
charge  upon  the  Marines,  who  were 
thrown  into  disorder.  The  large  gap 
made  by  the  flanks  running  into  line 
tempted  the  swarms  of  Arabs,  and 
they  came  pouring  in  before  the  Mar- 

ines could  recover  from  their  momen- 
tary disorder.  Some  say  the  men  of 
the  65th  gave  way ;  if  they  did  it  was 
done  slowly  and  reluctantly  ;  to  me 
they  seemed  to  be  trying  to  keep  in 
touch  with  the  Marines  and  to  reform 
square,  for  several  men  coolly  knelt 
and  deliberately  took  aim  as  the  Fuzzy 
Wuzzy  enveloped  our  flank.  But  even 
British  pluck  must  fail  sometimes,  and 
that  nullah  held  too  many  of  those 
bounding,  reckless  dare-devils.  No- 
thing could  stop  them  for  the  time — 
neither  Catlings,  nor  Gardners,  nor 
Martini-Henrys,  nor  the  cold  steel  ; 
they  forced  their  way  into  the  square, 
and,  unfortunately,  they  came  to  stay 
for  the  moment.  Though  a  short  per- 
iod, it  was  long  enough  to  teach  Mr. 
Atkins  some  respect  for  the  fighting 
qualities  of  the  Hadendowahs.  Unless 
when  a  bullet  smashed  a  skull  or 
pierced  a  heart,  they  came  on  furious- 
ly ;  and  even  when  the  paralysis  of 
death  stole  over  them,  in  their  last 
convulsions  they  would  try  to  cut,  stab, 
or  even  bite.  Among  that  howling, 
bounding  mob  of  fanatics,  even  little 
boys  came  brandishing  sticks,  led 
recklessly  on  by  their  parents  to  the 
very  muzzles  of  our  rifles.  When 
once  in  the  square,  an  absolute  ftUUe 
ensued.  In  rallying  groups  our  men 
tried  to  stand  their  ground,  but  slowly, 
yet .  surely,  a  retrograde  movement 
was  compulsory. 

We  were  getting  the  worst  of  it. 
Enveloped  in  smoke  we  could  hardly 
distinguish  friend  from  foe.  For  a 
moment  or  two  firing  ceased,  and  an 
appalling  silence  seemed  temporarily  to 
reign,  but  the  struggle  had  now  de- 
volved into  a  deadly  hand-to-hand  con- 
flict in  which  both  sides  were  too  busy 
to  give  tongue. 

An  occasional  rallying  shout  from  an 
officer  was  heard  ;  and  at  one  period, 
when  things  looked  very  bad  indeed,  1 
could  distinctly  hear  the  voice  of  that 
plucky  war  correspondent,  Bennet  Bur- 
leigh, shouting  :  "Give  it  them,  boyst 
Hurrah !  Three  cheers,  my  men  I 
Hurrah  I " 

Many  a  man  who  feared  the  day  was 
lost  rallied  on  that  cheer,  and  thought 



things  must  be  improving,  and  fought 
all  the  better  for  the  belief. 

A  certain  General  has  said  "  that 
war  correspondents  are  the  drones  of 
the  army."  A  few  more  drones  like 
Burleigh,  when  Tommy  Atkins  is  in  a 
tight  corner,  would  not  be  detrimental 
to  the  success  of  the  British  Army  in 
the  field. 

How  I  got  out  of  that  fight  1  hardly 
know  to  this  day.  A  great  source  of 
anxiety  to  me  was  my  horse — an  ani- 
mal which  was  the  only  one  I  could 
procure  at  Suakin,  and  which  had 
been  condemned  by  the  military  autho- 
rities as  unsound.  He  could  stand  on 
his  forelegs  and  move,  it  was  true,  so 
to  me  he  was  better  than  nothing  ; 
but  in  an  unlooked-for  emergency  such 
as  this,  he  gave  me  grave  anxiety,  for 
not  knowing  his  weak  points  I  was  al- 
ways speculating  as  to  what  the  brute 
would  do  next  as  I  struggled  through 
the  human  dibris  of  the  broken  square. 
Once  or  twice  as  I  lay  flat  along  on  the 
animal's  back  urging  him  onward  with 
my  spurs,  Arabs  would  leap  out  at  me 
from  the  smoke  and  poise  their  spears 
ready  to  strike,  but  apparently  refrain- 
ed risking  a  thrust  at  one  who  was 
moving  so  swiftly.  I  fired  my  revolver 
at  any  dusky  form  I  saw  emerging  from 
the  smoke,  but  still  the  figures  flitter- 
ed. Regulation  revolvers  are  not  much 
use  against  the  Fuzzy  Wuzzy.  He 
seems  to  swallow  the  bullets  and  come 
up  smiling  like  the  proverbial  conjuror 
with  his  "  you  observe,  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen, there  is  no  deception  about  it !  " 

If  my  horse  had  gone  lame  or  played 
any  circus  tracks  at  that  moment,  a 
blanket  and  a  narrow  trench  would 
have  been  my  shroud  and  resting  place 
that  night. 

How  Sir  Redver  Buller's  intact 
square,  moving  over  the  very  ground 
we  had  left,  diverted  the  attention  of 
the  enemy,  giving  us  breathing  time  to 
rally  and  reform  and  advance  in  hne  to 
recapture  our  lost  guns,  is  a  matter  of 
history  I  will  not  dwell  on  here.  The 
Black  Watch  suffered  terrible  losses  ; 
many  of  their  non-commissioned  offi- 
cers were  cut  down  in  the  first  mad 

I  was  therefore  rather  troubled  about 
my  newly-made  friend  Tonbar.  One 
day  after  my  budget  of  sketches  had 
been  posted  to  the  Graphic,  Corporal 
Tonbar  walked  into  my  lodgings  at 
Suakin.  We  had  our  promised  smoke 
and  chat,  and  I  found  my  friend  no 
ordinary  individual — keen,  quick-wit- 
ted, and  every  inch  a  soldier. 

It  was  New  Year's  Day  of  the  fol- 
lowing year,  and  the  British  forces  for 
the  relief  of  Khartoum  were  concen- 
trating at  Korti,  For  hundreds  of 
miles  the  Nile  was  alive  with  boats 
crowded  with  British  soldiers  rowing, 
towing  and  sailing  their  whalers  up  the 
dreary  reaches  of  the  river.  I  was 
waiting  outside  the  postal  teat  while 
the  British  mail  was  being  sorted, 
when  a  cadaverous,  sun-burnt  individ- 
ual accosted  me.  He  was  in  shreds 
and  tatters.  It  was  difficult  to  dis- 
cover by  the  sun-faded  trousers  that  he- 
was  of  that  famous  Highland  regiment 
the  Black  Watch.  The  red  heckle  had 
disappeared  from  his  feather  bonnet. 
His  face,  however,  made  up  for  this 
deficiency  ;  all  shades  of  red  were 
there,  from  the  piokish  hue  of  his  skin- 
ned nose  to  the  deep  tan  of  his  hollow 

"Don't  you  remember  me?"  said 
the  tattered  soldier. 

"Well!    Eh,  I  hardly By  Jove  r 

Corporal  Tonbar." 

"No  longer  corporal,  sir,  but  ser- 
geant now,"  said'he  modestly. 

"  Well,  I  am  mightily  pleased  to  see 
you.  But  what  a  plight  you  are  in  ! 
You  have  evidently  had  a  tough  time 
of  it,  sergeant.  Why,  your  mother 
wouldn't  know  you."  I  turned  him 
round  and  looked  at  him  once  more. 

"It's  these  boats,  sir.  We  High- 
landers are  not  used  to  rowing.  Those 
patches  you  are  looking  at  now,  sir, 
are  made  of  biscuit  tin  and  sail- 
cloth— hard,  but  saves  you  from  losing 
leather.  I  have  just  been  to  the  post," 
he  continued,  "and  find  my  dear  old 
mother  has  sent  me  these,"  he  held  up 
a  bottle  containing  white  tabloids. 
"  They  are  thirst-quenchers.  I  shan't 
want  them,  however,  as  I  go  with  the 
force    moving  up  the    Nile.     You  are- 




gfoiDg^  across  the  desert  with  Stewart's 
lot ;  they  will  be  useful  to  you.  Pray 
take  them,  sir  !  " 

Anything  from  old  England  out  in 
those  wild  parts  was  precious  enough. 
1  was  reluctant  to  accept  the  bottle, 
but  as  he  threatened  to  spill  the  con- 
tents on  the  desert,  I  took  it. 

"Tonbar,  you  have  befriended  tne 
once  more  ;  mind,  if  ever  I  can  be  of 
service  to  you,  now  don't  be  afraid  to 
ask  me." 

He  laughingly  promised  and  we 

I  often  blessed  his  dear  old  mother 
on  that  long  dreary  desert  march, 
irhich  we  subsequently  made  to  Subat, 
for  the  happy  idea  of  the  thirst-quench- 

Some  years  after  the  Nile  expedition, 
I  was  reading  a  daily  paper  in  my  club 
in  London,  when  my  eye  caught  a 
paragraph  that  ran  something  like  this : 
"For  exceptional  bravery  in  the  field, 
Sergeant- Major  Tonbar  to  receive  her 
Majesty's  commission."     I  drank  Fred 

Toobar's  health,  and  wished  him  fur- 
ther promotion.  Two  years  afterwards 
I  was  quietly  painting  in  my  studio, 
when  a  sharp  ring  at  the  bell  brought 
me  to  the  door. 

On  the  threshold  was  a  smart  Bond- 
street  type  of  gentleman  in  frock-coat, 
enamelled  boots,  and  an  orchid  in  his 
buttonhole.  He  raised  his  hat,  and 
said  with  a  suspicion  of  a  slight  drawl 
in  his  speech  : 

"Why,  don't  you  know  me,  Mr. 

I  was  fairly  staggered  for  a  moment, 
then  my  memory  of  him  Hashed  on  me. 
"Come  in,"  said  I,  "and  sit  down. 
Have  a  cigar,  and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

"  I  have  no  time  for  that  just  now, 
I  have  come  simply  to  ask  you  for  the 
service  you  promised  me." 

"  Well,  fire  away,  Mr.  Tonbar." 

"  The  fact  is,  Villiers,"  he  slightly 
hesitated,  "  I  am — oh,  I  am  going  to 
be  married  at  St.  Geoi^'s,  Hanover- 
square,  to-morrow,  and  I  want  you  for 
best  man." 

To  be  Continued. 


i^NE  April  eve,  as  earth  impatient  broke 

^"^     From  winter's  clasp,  to  meet  the  coming  spring. 

In  converse  deep,  while  homeward  sauntering. 

The  spirit  music  in  our  souls  awoke 

As  harp-strings,  vibrant  to  the  master's  stroke. 

Through  all  the  naked  branches  overhead, 

The  moon  rays  soft  a  subtle  radiance  shed, 

That  lit  the  revels  of  the  fairy  folk. 

And  cast  quaint  shadows  on  the  pavement-stone. 

The  naked  branches — so  they  seemed  to  be. 

Till  in  the  shadows  on  the  pavement  thrown 

We  saw  the  swelling  buds,  just  bursting  free  ; 

O  Ufe  t  how  oft  to  us  in  shade  is  shown, 

What  in  the  substance  we  had  failed  to  see. 

Martha  E.  Sichardjon 



By   Vi. 


«      *     4 

PRETTY  little  Mrs.  Weatherstone 
sat  with  her  chin  on  her  hand, 
gazing  into  the  heart  of  the  fire. 

John  Weatherstone  from  the  sofa 
watched  her  with  a  sense  of  tranquil 
enjoyment  in  the  picture  she  made,  and 
the  fact  that  he  alone  enjoyed  it. 

A  hard  day  in  Court,  and  a  signal 
victory  there,  entitled  the  man  to  his 
hour  of  rest,  and  those  who  had  met 
him  about  town — a  keen,  shrewd,  un- 
readable lawyer — would  hardly  have 
recognized  him  at  this  moment,  when 
he  allowed  "  the  cares  that  infest  the 
day"  to  "fold  their  tents  like  the 
Arabs."  Silvery  twilight  outside — 
firelight  in  the  room — a  blue  wreath  of 
smoke  curling  above  the  sofa — the 
girlish  figure  yonder — lit  by  rosy  re- 
flections that  made  her  blonde  hair 
glisten,  and  the  rings  on  her  small 
fingers  flash  with  a  thousand  sparkles. 

Suddenly  the  spell  was  broken  by 
Mrs.  Weatherstone  saying,  in  a  quick, 
decided  little  fashion  of  her  own — 

"John,  are  you  asleep?" 

"  Far  from  it,"  was  the  slow  answer. 

"Then  listen,  dear — and  attend — 
well,  attend  the  way  you  do  when  you 
have  your  Q.C.  gown  on,  I  have  a 
weight  on  my  mind." 

"Ah!"  with  a  smile,  "who  is  it 
this  time  ?  " 

"  It  is  Donald,"  she  said,  throwing 
out  her  hands.  "  I  am  perfectly  wild 
about  the  way  he  has  been  going  on 
this  winter.  He'll  never  get  through 
in  May — never — never,"  impatiently, 
"and  it's  most  important  that  he 
should.      He's  five-and-twenty." 

"  Five-and-twenty,  as  you  say," 
came  from  the  shadowy  corner.  ' '  But 
as  for  his  taking  his  M.D, — why,  who 
ever  thought  he  would.  He  is  unfor- 
tunate enough  to  possess  the  means 
to  keep  him  going.     One  of  the  gilded 

youth,  you  see.  It's  only  poor  beg- 
gars with  nothing  but  what  they  make 
who  study.  Look  at  me.  Don't 
worry  over  him  Betty.  He  is  rather 
a  weight  to  have  on  one's  mind — about 
i8o  pounds,  1  fancy. " 

"  Please  don't  talk  nonsense.  Jack. 
\i you  don't  regard  Don  as  a  respon- 
sibility, /do.  We  simply  can't  have 
him  plucked  again.  Something  must 
fee  done." 

"Well,  darling,"  yawning,  "I'll 
leave  it  to  you  with  absolute  faith  in 
your  power  to  perform  what  you  un- 
dertake. Like  Kipling's  sailor,  you 
are  '  a  person  of  infinite  resource  and 
sagacity.' " 

The  man  smiled  to  himself  in  the 
dusk.  The  woman  sought  counsel 
from  the  fire. 

Presently  she  gave  a  little  start.  "I 
have  it  John,"  she  said,  rising  with  a 
light  laugh.  "  I  have  it — I  have  it — 
but  poor  Donald — O,  poor  Donald." 

"  Knowing  you,  I  say  poor  Donald 
likewise,"  said  the  voice, 

"Ah!"  cried  she,  crossing  to  the 
sofa,  "you  won't  help  me,  and  we 
really  ought  to  try  and  prevent  his  fall- 
ing in  love  with  one  girl  after  another, 
the  way  he  has  been  doing.  If  it  were 
only  one  girl  now,  we  might  rejoice, 
but  he  is  forever  flitting  about  like  a 
— like  a — " 

"  Bee  over  a  clover  field,"  he  sug- 

"Thanks  !  yes  dear.  Quite  so — but 
I  was  thinking  of  a  gay  Lothario.  It 
is  always  the  latest  pretty  face  with 
Donald,  and  he  will  certainly  become  a 
flirt — a  male  flirt — that  abomination  ; 
or  a  shiftless,  unstable  creature  who 
does  not  know  his  own  mind.  If  one 
could  save  him  from  that!" 

"Noble  mission.  But  what  is  he 
now  ?  " 

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"What  is  he  now?"  echoed  his 
wife,  glancing  down  quickly.  "  Vou 
surely  don't  mean  /  called  him  shift- 
less and  unstable?  O  no,  I  said 
he  would  become  so  if  he  were  not 
checked  in  his — in  his — " 

"  Mad  career,"  said  Weatherstone.    ■ 

"  Yes,  dear,  for  that  is  what  it  is — 
aud  simple  ruination.  •  He  is  only  a 
boy — a  nice  boy  too — and  a  handsome 
boy — very  like  you,  Jack." 

•'  Heaven  forbid,"  he  remarked  fer- 

"Inlooks,"  she  continued,  "and  the 
^rls  very  naturally  like  him  ;  everyone 
likes  him,  but  they  let  him  see  it,  un- 
fortunately. It's  a  case  of  infatuation 
with  Don  every  time — pink  and  white 
prettiness  to-day — " 

"  Black-and-tan  to-morrow,"  said 
the  man. 

"  Exactly — and  he  talks  of  them  in- 
cessantly, that  is,  to  me.  There  have 
been  four  since  September.  First  Kitty 
Wentworth.  Now,  she  was  a  pleasing; 
enough  variety  of  girl  (his  taste  is  ex- 
ceedingly good),  but  I  grew  positively 
to  dread  every  word  that  began  with 
K.  '  Kitty,'  '  Kitty,'  constant  reitera- 
tion made  the  name  almost  lose  mean- 
ing. When  she  went  back  to  Cleve- 
land he  turned  for  consolation  to 
Claudia  Atherly.  Just  the  way  the  man 
changes  pictures  in  a  magic  lantern. 
Claudia  is  of  a  higher  type  of  beauty 
than  the  other,  and  1  really  had  reason 
to  think  that  affair  would  last.  But 
no  ;  it  died  a  natural  death  in  a  few 
weeks.  Next  it  was  a  Miss  Quintin, 
though  she  was  out  of  the  question — 
engaged  already.  Then  qame  Nell 
Overton,  decidedly  the  most  danger- 
ous of  all,  but  Nell  refused  to  take  him 
seriously.  It  was  serious  enough  to 
Donald.  He  impoverished  himself  all 
during  January  buying  her  roses.  She. 
liked  roses,  it  seemed.  At  present," 
sighing,  "  there  is  no  one  in  particular. 
Probably  he  is  worshipping  the  whole 
four,  and  has  a  mental  composite 
photograph  of  them  hanging  on  the 
walls  of  memory.  He  will  be  worse 
next  time  on  account  of  this  lull. " 

''  Being  unaccustomed  to  lulls  of 
the  kind,"    remarked    Weatherstone, 

rising.  "Well,  poor  chap,  if  you  in- 
tend to  marshal  him  through  the 
Spring  Assizes — exams.  \  mean,  he 
has  my  sympathy.  There  is  a  deadly 
lot  of  work  ahead  of  him,  and  none 
behind.  I  can't  understand  Don. 
Now,  1  never  was  in  love  but  once. 
Once  was  enough,  sweetheart,  for  it 
wrecked  my  supply  of  common  sense 
totally,  although  in  sweet  compensa- 
tion I  was  drifted  in  a  semi-imbecile 
condition  to  the  shore  of  Paradise." 

"Keep  to  the  subject.  Jack,"  she 
said  softly. 

"  Donald  !  Oh,  I  had  rather  dropped 
Donald.  If  you  want  an  opinion,  I 
think  it's  a  nuisance  having  one's 
young  and  erratic  cousins  left  on  one's 
hands.  Probably  he'd  better  go;  he 
has  enough  to  live  on." 

"  He's  an  orphan,"  she  said,  "and 
this  is  the  only  place  on  earth  he  can 
call  home.     Your  mother  wished  it." 

"  That's  the  reason  he  stays,  Betty; 
and  because  left  to  himself  it's  a  ques- 
tion where  he'd  bring  up,"  said  the 
man,  going  out. 

Three  or  four  days  later'  Mrs.  Wea- 
therstone entered  her  parlour  with 
tight,  quick  step.  A  smile,  a  deep, 
deep  smile  lay  upon  her  red  lips,  and 
shone  from  the  depths  of  her  gray  eyes. 

In  one  hand  she  held  a  cabinet  pho- 
tograph, which,  after  great  deliberation 
and  trying  to  place  in  one  position 
after  another,  she  stood  conspicuously 
on  the  piano  leaning  against  a  Dresden 

"  That  will  do  it,"  she  said  to  her- 
self, going  back  a  little  to  view  the 

"  That  will  do  it,  Elizabeth."  Then 
she  waited,  filling  in  the  time  by  play- 
ing a  waltz. 

It  was  a  swinging,  swaying  melody, 
with  one  sweet  minor  note  recurring 
ever  in  the  bass.     A  note  to  watch  for. 

Presently  the  door  opened  and  a 
man  entered  the  room.  He  crossed  to 
the  piano  with  long  steps, 

Mrs.  Weatherstone  looked  up  and 
nodded.  A  handsome  young  fellow 
this,   tall,  deep-chested,  and    with    a 




clear-cut,  rather  discoateoted  face.  He 
thrust  bis  hands  into  his  pockets  and 
leaned  against  the  tail  of  the  grand, 
taking  up  the  waltz  in  a  low  vibrant 
whistle.  The  player  stopped  abruptly 
— as  was  her  way. 

"  Please  go  on — that  was  divine," 
said  the  other.      "You  can  play,  Betty." 

"O,  a  little,"  said  she,  watching 
him  from  under  her  lashes. 

"  A  little  !  "  he  returned  quick- 
ly. "Well,  rather.  You  have  the 
^ft ."  Suddenly  noticing  the  new  pho- 
tograph at  his  elbow,  he  took  it  up, 
looking  at  it  long  and  silently. 

Mr.  Weatherstone  stilt  played  broken 
music.     Her  lips  twitched. 

She  saw  Donald  turn  the  picture 
over.  The  back  was  blank,  so  he 
turned  it  face  upward  ag'ain.  Then  he 
stared  at  it. 

"  By  Jove  !"  he  said  to  himself .  "By 
Jove !" 

"Did  you  speak,  Donald?"  she 
inquired,  after  a  moment. 

"No — yes — that  is — tell  me,  Betty 
— who  is  she?" 

"  You  must  not  ask  Don — really.  I 
cannot  tell  you.  Not  now,  anyway. 
But  she  is  pretty,  isn't  she  ?  " 

"  Pretty  I  "  He  gave  a  short  laugh. 
"How  like  a  woman.  Why,  I  neversaw 
such  a  face  ;  it  is  perfect.  Is  she  like 
this,  honestly,  Betty  ?  " 

"That  is  considered  a  good  likeness, 
1  believe,"  answered  Mrs.  Weather- 

"  Well,  who  is  she  ?  When  did  you 
get  this  ?  Do  you  know  her,  or  is  she 
some  actress  or  singer  ? "  returned 
the  young  fellow. 

"No!  no!  No  actress  or  singer, 
and  yes,  I  do  know  her,  by  sighL  We 
have  smiled  at  each  other  often.  More 

Donald  Weatherstone  stood  the 
charming  photograph  back  slowly, 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  face,"  he  said, 

"Where  have  I  heard  that  remark 
before,"  said  the  other.  "  Now,  Don- 
ald, please  don't  ask  questions  about 
this  one.  She's  not  for  you,  and  that 
should  settle  it.     I  do  not  say  I  could 

not  manage  to  have  you  meet  her — 
your  eyes  are  very  pl^ding — but  you 
are  so  fickle,  Don,  and  she  is  not  for 

"  Fickle!"  he  exclaimed  impatiently, 
"  Come,  I  like  that." 

"  Well,  you  have  been  devoted  to  a 
most  outrageous  number  of  fair  maid- 
ens already.  Il  has  been  '  lightly  come, 
lightly  go,'  and  you  fritter  away  your 
time  horribly.  As  for  your  affections, 
really,  the  woman  who  gets  what  is  left 
after  you  are  through  '  admiring '  all 
the  pretty  girls  you  meet,  deserves  my 

"Don't  let  it  worry  you,"  he  said, 
gloomily.      "  I  am  through   with  such 

"Oh  !  it  doesn't  worry  me  at  all," 
answered  Mrs.  Weatherstone,  "not  in 
the  least,  only  sometimes  the — the 
ghosts,  as  it  were — of  those  girls  1 
have  heard  so  much,  so  very  much 
about,  come  to  trouble  me.  Remem- 
ber Kitty  Wentworth  ?" 

There  was  a  smothered  word  from 
the  other  end  of  the  piano.  The  waltz 
went  on  smoothly,  serenely. 

Weatherstone  turned  his  back  to 
the  player  and  gazed  darkly  across 
the  pretty  room.  On  swept  the  dulcet 
notes,  rich,  compelling. 

"And  Claudia?"  said  Mrs.  Weath- 

"You  need'nt  go  over  them  all, 
Betty,"  he  said.  "  Have  the  goodness 
to  drop  it." 

"  You  ought  to  be  able  to  see  what 
I  mean,  Don.  No  one  would  have  the 
heart  to  introduce  you  to  this  girl.  She 
is  still  fancy  free,  and,  and  altogether 
too  sweet.  No,  no  I  will  not  think  of 
it.  John  would  not  like  me  to.  You 
are  so  unstable,  I  could  not  reconcile  it 
to  my  conscience." 

"  Do,  Betty,"  he  said,  half  bashfully, 
leaning  across  the  piano.  "  t  don't 
know  when  I've  been  so  taken  with  a 
picture.  Do.  I  thought  you  were  a 
friend  of  mine — that  at  least  I  could 
count  on  that." 

"You  need  not  ask,  for  I  won't, 
Don.     Comfort  yourself  with 

'  If  she  be  not  fair  for  me,  what  care  1.'  " 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



There  was  a  pause. 

Then  Weatherstone  spoke  ag'ain. 

"Tell  me  who  she  is,  anyway,  Betty  ; 
that  won't  do  any  harm." 

A  resolute  shake  of  the  head  and 
some  emphatic  chords  that  ended  the 

He  took  up  the  picture  ag'ain  and 
turned  it  over.  "There's  not  a  mark 
on  it.     Where  was  it  made  ?  " 

"  In  town,"  laughingly. 

"And  is  she  really  like  this,  Betty — 
«yes  and  hair  and  all  ?  " 

The  eyes  that  looked  up  into  the 
man's  face  were  wonderful.  Large, 
soft,  with  lashes  heavy  and  curling. 
The  hair  was  light  and  abundant.  An 
exquisite  setting  for  so  much  beauty. 
No  nose  could  have  been  more  charm- 
ing, no  mouth  more  like  a  Cupid's 
bow,  an  alluring  dimple  graced  the 
square  little  chin.  This  lovely  head 
rose  out  of  a  misty  background,  dark, 
almost  mysterious.  It  was  like  a  flower 
broken  from  the  stem.  The  expression 
of  the  face  was  saint-like,  tranquil, 
even  pensive. 

"It  is  a  strange  sort  of  face,"  said 
Weatherstone,  "  quite  unnaturally 
beautiful,  yet  with  a  peculiar  fascina- 

"  So  much  soul  in  it,"  answered  the 
woman,  looking  over  his  shoulder. 
"  So  much  soul,  Donald.  Don't  you 
think  so  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  that  is  it ;  anyway,  I  never 
saw  anything  more  lovely." 

"Nor  1,  Donald." 

"  It  is  ideal,"  abstractedly, 

"Do  you  really  want  to  see  this — 
this  beauty  ?  " 

*'  What  a  question ! " 

"  But  do  you?" 

"  Honour  bright,  my  dear  Betty,  I 
do — any  fellow  would." 

"Then  I'll  make  a  bargain  with  you. 
Here  it  is,  February.  Now,  if  you 
pass  your  examinations  in  April — is  it  ? 
— I'll  manage  to  let  you  see  her — the 
rest  you  must  do  yourself." 

"That's  awfully  kind  of  you,  but 
rather  a  tight  bargain.  Suppose  I  fail 
— after  sitting  up  till  cock-crow,  read- 

"  In  your  little  lexicon  must  be  no 

such  word  as  fail,     if  you  do  fail,  why 
you  won't  see  the  fair  maid — that's  all. " 

"  I  suppose  I'll  be  able  to  survive 
that,"  he  replied  ;  "  please  don't  think 
me  quite  an  idiot.  I  shall  get  through 
anyway,  Betty." 

"  All  right,  then  it's  a  bargain,"  she 
said,  leaving  him. 


The  students  of  Medicine  during  the 
next  two  months  burned  the  midnight 
oil,  sitting  silently  in  ofttimes  chilly 
rooms,  with  wet  towels  bound  about 
their  throbbing  brows— this  perchance 
that  they  might  later  bind  them  with 

There  was  not  a  man  of  them  all  who 
studied  harder  than  Donald  Weather- 
stone, and  he  won.  Then  he  demand- 
ed his  reward. 

"  We'll  go  down  town  together, 
Donald,"  smd  Mrs.  Weatherstone, 
"and  you  shall  see  her." 

Itwasaheavenly  morning.  The  world 
had  renewed  its  youth  as  it  does  every 
year  when  May  comes  round.  Alas  ! 
that  we  follow  not  its  sweet  example. 
The  sun  shone  with  a  glorious  deter- 
mination to  put  a  gilt  edge  on  every- 
thing, and  the  air  blew  in,  cool  and  in- 
vigorating, from  the  lake  that  sparkled 
away  yonder  like  a  line  of  beaten  silver. 

The  two  stepping  along  briskly  to- 
gether felt  that  it  was  a  good  morning 
to  be  alive. 

"You  haven't  thought  much  about 
that  picture,  Donald,  have  you  P  "  Mrs. 
Weatherstone  asked  after  a  while. 

"  Haven't  had  time,  but  it's  been  in 
the  background    of    my    mind,  so   to 

"Yes,  I  understand,  behind  the 
Anatomy,  Physiology,  Materia  Medica, 
and  other  things.  What  I  meant,  Don, 
was — you  won't  be  very  disappointed 

He  wheeled  around  suddenly.  "Am 
I  not  to  see  her,.  Betty?  I  understood 
it  was  a  square  thing — a  bargain." 

"O,  yes  !  yes!  do  keep  cool,"  she 
answered,  her  colour  fading  a  trifle, 
and  a  little  catch  in  her  voice.  "  Yes, 
indeed,  you  may  see  her,  Donald.  She 
— she  is  just  across  the  street  from 

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"  O,"  he  inquired  calmly.  "  Where, 
just  across  the  street?" 

"Why" — she  answered — "why  in 
a  shop,  you  know." 

"  Very  well  !  "  said  Weatherstone, 
striding  along  by  the  trim  little  figure, 
"that'll  be  all  right.  I  hate  a  snob. 
If  that  girl  is  like  her  picture  she  might 
be  anywhere.  Are  you  going  in  with 
me  ?  How  far  does  the  bargain  take 
you  ?" 

They  had  crossed  the  road,  and  now 
Mrs.  Weatherstone  stopped  before  a 
huge  shining  plate-glass  window.  Be- 
hind it  were  switches,  wigs  that  rose 
and  fell  strangely  on  abnormally  bald 
pates,  simpering  dummies  that  nodded 
like  mandarins,  hunches  of  love  curls, 
white  periwigs,  frightful  scratch  wigs, 
false  hangs,  and  back  of  them  all  a 
wonderful,  wonderful  French  modelled 
head  that  rose  out  of  a  cloud  of  soft 
pink  tulle.  The  beautiful  eyes  had 
such  sweeping  lashes  as  surely  eyes 
never  wore  before.  The  pure  oval  of 
her  face  was  unbroken,  the  curling  bow 
of  her  mouth  smiled  at  one,  showing 
even  pearly  teeth.  Her  hair  of  light 
glittering  gold  was  a  dream. 

"  There  she  is,  Donald, "said  a  small, 
small  voice  at  his  elbow. 

The  young  fellow  was  staring  in  at 
the  lovely  head  in  a  fixed  wooden  fash- 
ion.     He  answered  nothing. 

"  I  had  her  picture  taken  you  see, 
Don.  Don't  hurt  me,  please.  You're 
the  biggest — "  the  voice  slipped  away 
into  nothingness. 

Weatherstone  turned  and  look  eddown 
at  her.  The  red  flamed  up  into  his  boy- 
ish face,  then  he  went  white. 

"  Betty,"  he  said,  "it  was  a  ghastly 
joke.  No  fellow  enjoys  being  made  a 
fool  of.  I'll  never  live  another  day  un> 
der  John  Weatherstone's  roof." 

"  You  will  !  You  will  !  "  she  cried, 
half  laughing  and  catching  his  hand, 
"  and  you  will  live  to  forgive  me,  for  it 
has  been  your  salvation.  Remember 
you  are  through,  and  have  your  big 
M.D.  !  All  on  her  account,"  nodding 
at  the  bewitching  face  so  near,  "O, 
dear  Don,  we're  not  made  like  that, 
don't  you  see,  only  just  in  factories  and 
the  minds  of  men.  You  wouldn't  like 
anything  so  perfect  if  it  came  to  life. 
Indeed,  no  ;  and  you're  not  in  love  with 
anyone,  you're  only  in  love  with  loving 
or  some  ideal  you  have  formed,  and 
you  did  need  a  lesson,  Don." 

He  bit  his  moustache,  then  looked  at 
her  with  a  queer  little  smile. 

" Thanks,"  he  said,  "but  don't  tell 

"  O,  never  E"  she  answered  firmly. 
"Never.     Now  come  home  to  lunch- 


T  ONG,  long  ago — ah,  me  !  how  very  long — 
A  way-woro  poet  died  within  my  breast ; 

Unblest  of  fate  I — poor  wailing  ghost  of  song, 
He  yet  doth  haunt  me  with  a  strange  unrest. 

John  Arbory. 

Digitized  by  Google 


By  A.M.Beldin 



IF  you  have  not  yet  experienced  the 
subtle  fascination  of  the  sea,  g'O 
eastward  in  the  summer-time.  Study 
its  moods  in  mist  and  sunshine  ;  see  it 
in  calm  and  storm  ;  hear  its  myriad 
voices  that  whisper  among  the  pebbles 
or  thunder  on  the  cliff;  hear  the  low 
song  or  loud  shriek  of  its  winds ; 
bathe  in  it  ;  sail  on  it  ;  let  the  wonder 
of  it  take  hold  on  your  imagination, 
as  its  bracing  energy  takes  hold  upon 
the  very  fibre  of  your  physical  being  ; 
a.nd  at  the  end  you  will  journey  west 
or  south  again  with  no  further  need  of 
a  tonic,  nor  any  need  of  a  Byron  to  tell 
you  of  the  might  and  mystery  and 
magic  of  the  sea. 

Aye,  the  Muskoka  lakes  are  beauti- 
ful^and  the  St.  Lawrence,  with  its 
Thousand  Islands,  its  Rapids,  its  broad 
sweep  to  the  sea  ;  and  to  none  are  their 
charms  more  apparent  than  to  the  man 
from  the  seaboard.  By  a  similar  force 
of  contrast,  to  none  should  the  attrac- 
tions of  the  seaboard,  aside  altogether 
from  the  question  of  climate,  appeal 
more  forcibly  than  to  those  from  inland 

Canada  is  fortunate  in  that  her  peo- 
ple have,  in  the  Maritime 
Provinces,  a  summer  re- 
sort which,  both  in  clim- 
ate and  natural  beauty,  is 
unsurpassed.  The  people 
of  the  United  States  recog- 
nize the  fact,  and  from  the 
eastern,  middle  and  south- 
ern portions  of  that  coun- 
try a  yearly  growing  vol- 
ume of  travel  flows  in  by 
way  of  St.  John,  Yar- 
mouth, Halifax  and  Char- 
lottetown.  It  is  very  grati- 
fying also  to  note  that  each 
year  sees  a  larger  number 
of  visitors  from  Quebec 
.and  Ontario,  seeking  and 

finding  under  their  own  flag  more  of 
health  and  pleasure  than  are  to  be  found 
at  the  hotter  and  more  hackneyed  places 
farther  south. 

Regarding  the  province  of  New 
Brunswick,  Prof.  Shaler  of  Harvard, 
who  is  familiar  with  its  topography 
and  resources,  has  stated  that  it  is 
superior  as  a  farming  region  to  any 
New  England  state  ;  that  it  is  the  best 
all-round  sporting  region  of  which  he 
has  knowledge  ;  and  that  of  its  type 
the  scenery  of  the  province  is  unsur- 
passed. This  is  a  great  and  a  just 
tribute.  If  there  is  a  deal  of  agricul- 
tural wealth  as  yet  undeveloped ;  if 
there  are  stretches  of  wilderness  to 
shelter  big  game  or  tempt  the  angler  ; 
and  if  the  natural  beauty  of  the  settled 
portions  has  not  been  obtrusively  sup- 
plemented by  the  evidences  of  man's 
ambition,  that,  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  seeker  after  health  and  pleasure,  is 
not  to  be  deplored. 

Three  sides  of  New  Brunswick  are 
washed  by  the  waters  of  ocean  or  bay. 
Large  rivers  flow  through  it,  and  their 
head  waters  form  as  remarkable  a  sys- 
tem   of  interlacing    streams    as    ever 


floated  a  sportsman's  canoe.  These 
streams  yield  trout  and  salmon  in 
abundance.  The  province  is  so  inter- 
sected by  railways  and  waterways  that 
one  may  journey  with  speed  and  com- 
fort in  all  directions. 

The  people  of  Ontario,  who  honour 
the  memory  of  the  United  Empire 
Loyalists,  should  be  especially  inter- 
ested in  the  city  of  St.  John.  Its 
founders  were  of  that  dauntless  and 

self-sacrificing^  company  who  followed 
the  sound  of  the  king's  bugles  north- 
ward more  than  a  century  ago,  setting 
an  example  in  loyalty  and  devotion  that 
their  descendants,  in  these  later  days 
of  trial,  have  been  quick  to  emulate. 
Go  down  to  the  Market  Slip  where 
wharves  and  warehouses  are  crowded 
with  merchandise,  and  the  schooners 
come  with  their  cargoes  of  fish  and 
produce.     You  have  but  to  invoke  the 



spirit  of  the  past, 
and  wharfand  ware- 
house fadeaway,  the 
busy  city  vanishes, 
and  a  bleak  shore  is 
offering  scant  wel- 
come to  a  band  of  ' 
homeless  men  and 
women,  brought 
hither  in  the  king's 
ships,  to  battle  with 
the  wilderness  itnd 
lay  the  foundations 
of  a  state. 

To  go  farther 
back  in  history, 
Champlain  saw  the 
harbour  and  named 
the  river  before  he 

saw    the    St     Law-  the  bive 

rence ;     and     here, 

during  the  French  period,  was  enacted  the 
forever  memorable  in  the  annals  of  Acadie. 

tragedy  that  made  the  name  La  Tour 
Historic  associations,  therefore,  are 
not  wanting  to  lend  an  addition- 
al charm  to  this  region.  But  that 
is  incidental.  Neither  monument, 
nor  battlefield,  nor  fortressmarks 
the  scene  of  ancient  strife.  St. 
John  must  rest  on  other  grounds 
its  chief  claim  to  present  recog- 

Do  you  remember  Longfel- 
low's picture? 

(he  black  wharves  and  the  slips. 

And  the  sea-lides  tossing  free  - 
And  Spanish 
And   ihe  ben 

And  the  mag'ic  of  the  sea. 

The  sea-tides  at  St.  John  effect 
a  wonderful  change  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  wharves  and 
slips.  The  rise  and  fall  of  Fun- 
dy's  tides  varies  here  from  20  to 
27  feet.  One  result  of  this  is 
that  while  at  flood  tide  you  climb 
a  ladder  from  the  wharf  to  a  ves- 
sel's deck,  at  low  ebb  you  have 
to  go  down  a  ladder  to  reach  the 
same  deck.  The  remarkable 
variation  does  not  interfere  with 
work  on    the    vessels,    or    with 

s  rfith  bearded  lips, 
\nd  mystery  of  the 

their     going 

the    cha 


or  coming,  but 
1  the  whole  as- 
harbour    at   low 

:ed  by  Google 


tide,  as  compared  with  its  appearance 
at  Hood,  is  very  remarkable,  and  must 
be  seen  to  be  fully  appreciated.  It  is 
this  tidal  variation  which  produces  the 
unique  phenomenon  of  the  "  reversible 
falls,"  at  the  head  of  ihe  narrow  and 
rock-walled  gorge  through  which  the 
great  river  St.  John  finds  outlet  to  har- 
bour and  bay.  At  low  tide  there  is  a 
fall  outward  toward  the  harbour,  at 
flood  it  is  inward  toward  the  river 
basin  ;  while  at  half-tide  vessels  pass  in 
safety,  and  in  perfectly  smooth  water. 
But  to  get  back  to  the  harbour. 
Longfellow's  bearded  sailors  are  there, 
not  only  Spanish  but  Italian,  Norwe- 
gian, French  and  others,  besides  Brit- 
ish and  American,  manning  the  steam- 
ships and  large  sailing  craft  taking 
deal  cargoes  for  harbours  beyond  the 
Atlantic.  These  vessels,  together  with 
the  schooners  from  American  ports, 
and    ports  up  and  down   the    Bay   of 

Fundy  ;  the  small  coastwise  steamers 
and  harbour  tugs  ;  the  fishing  vessels 
from  the  bay  ;  and  the  handsome  pas- 
senger steamers  that  cross  daily  to  the 
Land  of  Evangeline,  or  give  a  daily 
summer  service  to  Boston,  make  the 
water  front  a  place  of  lively  interest. 
The  black  hulls  of  the  steamships, 
which  carry  enormous  quantities  of 
lumber,  are  in  striking  contrast  to  the 
smaller  and  more  graceful  outlines  of 
the  sailing  vessels,  whose  towering 
masts  and  rigging  are  reminiscent  of 
old-time  sailor  yarns.  Occasionally  a 
ship  with  an  unpronounceable  foreign 
name  comes  into  port,  and  somebody 
remembers  that  she  was   formerly  the 

" ,    built  at  St,   John  away 

back  in  iS — ,"  but  sold  some  years 
ago  to  the  Norwegians  or  Italians. 
For  St.  John  no  longer  builds  ships, 
and  of  her  once  magnificent  sailing 
fleets  (including  some  long-forgotten 
whalers),  only  a  few  remain  on  the 
registry  of  the  port.  Her  people  own 
steamships  now,  and  have  little  use 
for  sailing  craft,  except  the  schooners 
used  in  the  coasting  trade.  Itis  worth 
while  to  visit  one  of  the  foreign  ships 
in  port.  The  sailors  speak  a  foreign 
tongue,  and  everything  is  strange  and 
interesting  and  redolent  of  the  sea. 

But  Ihe  harbour  has  yet  another  fea- 
ture of  interest.  Its  waters  in  summer 
yield  salmon,  shad  and  alewives,  and 
in  the  height  of  the  fishing  season 
more  than  a  hundred  boats  may  be 
seen  tending  the  nets.  Very  interest- 
ing, therefore,  to  persons  who  dwell 
inland  is  the  ever-changing  aspect  and 
many-sided  life  of  the  harbour. 

In  Rockwood  Park,  which  embraces 
the  lovely  Lily  Lake  and  contains  over 
350  acres  of  land  and  water  surlace, 
St.  John  possesses  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  natural  parks  in  America. 
It  is  on  high  ground  behind  the  city, 
and  from  the  highest  point  a  magnifi- 
cent view  oi  city,  country  and  bay  is 
obtained.  There  are  pleasant  drives 
through  the  park  and  boats  on  the 
lake.  A  pretty  tea-house  is  another 
feature.  Bears,  moose,  deer  and  some 
other  animals  form  the  nucleus  of  what 
will   ultimately   be  a   large  zoological 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

{26    P 


collection.  Each  year  the  work  of 
park  improvement  is  systematically 
carried  on,  and  in  time  Rockwood  will 
become  one  of  the  famous  parks  of 

As    this    article  is    not    intended  to 
serve  in   any  sense  the  purpose  of  a 
guide  book,  only  a  passing  reference 
need  be  made  to  the   Bay  Shore,  with 
ils  facilities  for  salt-water  bathing  ;  the 
pleasant  drives  to  lovely  suburban  re- 
sorts ;  the  good  roads  for  wheelmen  ; 
the  near-by  haunts  of  the 
angler  ;  the  two-hour  trip 
in    a    Clyde-built    steamer 
across  the  bay ;  the  magni- 
ficent   views    from    neigh- 
bouringheights;  thewealth 
of  scenic  beauty  and   pic- 
turesqueness  that  delights 
the  amateur  photographer ; 
and  the  excellent  accommo- 
dation and  easy  means  of 
transit  so  essential  to  the 
comfort  of  the  visitor. 

But,  apart  from  all  other 
considerations,  its  position 
at  the  mouth  of  the  St. 
John  River  makes  the  city 
a  place  of  far  more  than 
common    interest.      I   am 

not  a  member  of  the  Royal  Kennebec- 
casis  Yacht  Club,  but  whenever  1  see 
the  while  sails  of  the  river  fleet  mov- 
ing out  from  the  moorings  at  Milledge- 
ville,  or  scudding  along  the  Reach 
with  a  stiff  breeze  or  the  quarter,  some 
lurking  spirit  of  the  viking  days  leaps 
up  within  me,  for  nowhere  in  America 
can  be  found  finer  stretches  of  water, 
in  a  fairer  setting,  than  those  on  which 
the  yachtsmen  of  St.  John  enjoy  their 
summer  outings.     The  more  one  sees 



of  the  St.  John  River  and  its  tributary 
lakes  and  streams,  the  more  one  is 
impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  weak- 
ness of  words  to  convey  to  others  a 
knowledg-e  of  the  rich  and  varied  love- 
liness of  river  and  landscape. 

With  a  total  length  of  450  miles, 
the  river  forms  with  its  tributaries  a 
g'reat  waterway  in  the  heart  of  New 
Brunswick.  Salman  and  trout  frequent 
the  upper  waters,  and  annually  attract 
a  large  number  of  wealthy  sportsmen. 
Great    quantities  of   logs    are  floated 

down    to    the  mills  at   St. 
John.  Passenger  and  freight 
steamers  run  between   St. 
John    and   Fredericlon,  84 
miles  up  ;  and  between  St. 
John    and     points    on    the 
lakeswhich  the  river  drains. 
There  is  also  a  steamer  on 
the    Kennebeccasis,    which 
joins  the  main  stream  not 
far    above    the    city.     The 
river  between  St.  John  and 
Frederic  ton      varies     from 
less  than  one  to  fully  three 
miles    in    width.       At    the 
mouth    of  the    Kennebec- 
casis there  is  a  stretch  of 
water  ten    miles   wide,  and  here   the 
yacht    club    already    mentioned    have 
their  annual  series  of  races.     At  Mitl- 
edgeville,  hard  by,  is  their  club  house. 
Near    St.  John    the     river   scenery  is 
boldly  picturesque,  with  cliffs  rising  at 
one  point  to  a  heightof  about  200  feet. 
A    few    miles  farther    on    the    aspect 
changes.     The   rugged  outlines  soften 
into   lines   of  graceful   beauty.     Rich 
farm  lands  stretch  away  to  the  hills, 
broad    intervales    and    lovely    islands 
delight    the    eye  ;    and    at  every   turn 


some  new  and  charming  picture  is  re- 
vealed.    Well-cultivated     farms    and 
occasional  villages    appear    on  either 
hand.     It  is  one  of  the  charms  of  the 
St.  John   River  that  there    is   nothing 
hackneyed  about  it.     There  is  a  serene 
and  restful  beauty  that  is  in  delightful 
contrast  to    the  nerve-distracting  ex- 
periences of  summer  life  in  the  cities. 
Life  is  very  pleasant  at  Westfield,  the 
Cedars,  Hampstead,  and  other  places 
alongthe  river,  where  many 
St.  John  people  themselves 
go  to  spend  a    portion  of 
the    summer.      From    the 
steamer's  deck  the  strang- 
er sees    quaint  objects    of 
interest    in    the    schooners 
laden    with  wood  or  coal, 
or  merchandise,   the  great 
rafts    of    logs,    the    scows 
with  cargoes  of  deals  and 
the  yachts  and  smaller  craft 
that  are  part  of  the  river 
life-     The  manner  in  which 
skilful    boatmen    at    some 
points    pull    alongside    the 
moving    steamer    in     mid- 
stream,    make     fast    and 
transfer     passengers     and  ^ 

baggage,  and  cast  off  again  in  perfect 
safety,  is  a  never-failing  source  of 
wonder  and  admiration. 

And  the  river  has  a  history.  The 
modern  traveller  is  voyaging  in  the 
wake  of  French  governors  and  adven- 
turers, and  New  England  fighting  men 
and  pioneers  of  the  days  of  old.  Here, 
beside  the  Nerepis,  was  a  French  fort; 
at  the  Jemseg  another;  yonder,  at 
Mangerville,     New    England    settlers 

e    CATHEnRAt.,     FftEDERICTON. 

Digitized  b,  Google 



came  before  the  revolution ;  on  the 
Nasbwaak,  opposite  Frederic  ton,  a 
French  g-overnor  once  made  his  capital, 
and  repelled  the  attacks  of  New  Enif- 
land  foes. 

Interest  in  the  river,  its  beauty  and 
its  history,  is  supplemented  by  another 
pleasure  when  the  steamer  has  arrived 
at  Fredericton,  the  cathedral  city  and 
capital  of  New  Brunswick.  Here  was 
the  old  French  village  of  St.  Anne's. 
The  city  lies  on  the  shore,  its  streets 
are  level  and  shaded  by  beautiful  trees. 
Before  it  flows  the  river,  more  than 
half-a-mile  wide,  spanned  by  railway 
and  traffic  bridges  ;  behind  it  rises  a 
high  range  of  hills,  aflfording  a  mag- 
nificent view  for  miles  up  and  down 
and  beyond  the  river.  In  Fredericton 
are  the  provincial  parliament  buildings, 
the  cathedral  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, the  provincial  normal  school,  the 
University  of  New  Brunswick,  the  old 
Government  House,  and  the  barracks 
of  the  R.C.R.I.  Three  miles  away  is 
the  town  of  Marysville,  which  owes 
its  existence  to  the  genius  of  one  man, 
Alexander  Gibson^the  lumber  king. 
Frederickton  is  a  great  sporting  cen- 
tre, from  which  moose  and  caribou  and 
deer  hunters  go  out  in  the  autumn, and 
salmon  and  trout  fishermen  in  the  sum- 
How  shall  one  speak  of  the  charms 
of  this  river  region?  There  comes  to 
me  a  memory  of  student  days  at  Fred- 
ericton. I  am  afloat  at  night  in  an 
Indian  canoe  in  mid-stream,  drifting 
idly  down  toward  the  city.  Overhead, 
a  sky  without  a  cloud,  the  moon  and 
stars  mirrored  in  the  unruffled  surface 
of  the  majestic  river.  Shoreward, 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant 
on  either  hand,  are  glooms  and  shad- 
ows, out  of  which  comes  softly  the 
voices  of  the  night.  Away  below  me, 
,  the  twinkling  lights  pf  the  city,  and 
floating  over  the  waters  in  softened 
strains  the  music  of  a  band.  The  bur- 
den lifts  from  the  wearied  brain,  the 
heart  thrills,  and  from  the  brooding 
depths  of  a  perfect  night,-  upon  the 
troubled  spirit  falls  the  benediction  of 
its  hallowed  peace. 

And    yet    another    picture,       I  am 

standing  at  night  on  the  verge  of  the 
clifTat  Pine  Bluff  Camp,  butafew  miles 
above  Fredricton.  The  only  sound, 
save  the  murmur  of  the  pines,  is  the 
song  of  a  group  of  lumbermen,  on  a 
raft  of  logs  far  down  the  river.  Their 
forms  are  silhouetted  ag-ainst  the  light 
of  the  flre  that  burns  on  the  farlher 
end  of  the  moving  raft.  The  moon 
gleams  redly  through  the  summer  haze. 
Countless  fireflies  flash  on  the  mead- 
ows. Before  me,  and  far  below,  is  the 
gleaming  river,  divided  by  lovely  is- 
lands, beyond  which  are  other  gleams 
of  moonlit  water,  in  which  the  trees 
glass  themselves.  Away  beyond  the 
stream  are  dimly  seen  the  meadows, 
the  hills,  and  the  deep  woods,  with 
only  here  and  there  a  solitary  farm- 
house light  to  tell  of  human  habitation. 
An  hour  in  this  entrancing  spot  among 
the  pines  beside  the  river,  and  then 
back  to  the  city.  The  road  is  smooth. 
The  air  is  fragrant  with  the  odour  of 
sweet  brier  and  wild  roses,  and  the 
new  mown  hay.  Only  the  sound  of 
the  carriage  wheels  breaks  the  silence 
of  the  night.  Irresistibly  there  steals 
upon  the  heart  a  subtle  influence,  that 
put  the  cares  of  the  work-day  world 
to  flight,  and  floods  its  chambers  with 
the  Joy  of  perfect  rest. 

From  the  dust  of  sun-burned  cities 
and  the  heat  of  their  fevered  walls,  to 
the  cool  shores  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy 
and  the  refreshing  loveliness  of  the  St. 
John  River,  is  a  change  so  full  of 
promise  and  so  delightful  in  fulfilment, 
that  one  does  not  wonder  at  the  grow- 
ing volume  of  summer  travel  east  and 

Let  me  close  with  the  words  of  the  late 
Governor  Russell,  of  Massachusetts  : 

"I  knowof  nothing  grander  or  more 
picturesque,  or  more  beautiful,  than 
the  scenery  and  general  appearance  of 
the  St.  John  valley.  It  is  crowded 
with  suggestion,  and  is  full  of  inspira- 
tion. I  speak  with  some  enthusiasm. 
There  are  few,  I  fancy,  who  have  made 
the  trip  for  the  first  time  who  are  not 
enthusiastic  over  it.  As  I  said  to  my 
friends  on  the  trip,  it  cannot  be  many 
years  before  the  banks  of  the  St.  John 
are  dotted  with   summer  residences. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

By    Normckii  H.  Smith 

OTTAWA  and  the  district  about  it  must  ever  have  attractions  for  the  tourist. 
England's  London  draws  travellers  because   it  is.  the  centre  of  the  world's 
business  and    the  capital 
of  the    world's    greatest 
political  unit.     New  York 
attracts  the  sight-seer  be- 

cial  capital  of  the  United 
States,  though  it  lacks  n 
Westminster  Abbey  and 
a  set  of  Governmental 
buildings.  Ottawa  is  the 
Washington  of  Canada. 
Its  centre  of  attraction  is 
the  cluster  of  buildings 
that  adorn  Parliament 
Hill.  Around  this  centre 
are  the  charms  of  a  noble 
river,  the  picturesquenes.s 
of  the  Chaudiere  Falls, 
and  the  proximity  to  fish- 
ing and  hunting  grounds 
which  each  year  provide 
pleasures  for  a  growing 
body  of  sportsmen. 

Duncan  Campbell  Scott 
has  described  Ottawa,  be- 
fore dawn,  in  the  follow- 


The  birches  on  the  slope  ;  the 

distant  hills 
Rise  in  the  vacant  North  ;  the 

Chaudiere  fills 
The  calm  with  its  hushed  i^ar ; 

the  river  takes 
An  unquiet  rest,   and  a   bird 

stirs  and  shakes 
The  morn  with  music;  asnalch 

of  singing'  thrills. 



the  South,   fair 

The  building  is  rotunda  in  Torni,  possiissiu] 
inlenor  with  a  central  height  of  [40  (i.  This  f 
attained  by  Ihe  use  of  flying  buttresses  as  she 
tograph.  The  nature  and  value  of  this  form 
well  explained  in  sec.  1,  chapter  v.  "European  , 
by  Russell  Slurgls  (Macmillan).  The  library  c 
two  hundred  thousand  volumes. 

it  height  is 
in  the  pho- 


Digitized  by  Google 



Picn-e  and   possess  the   sky,   guarding   the 

Where  our  young'  strength  is  welded  strenu- 

While  In  the  EasI,  Die  sUr  of  morning  covers 
The  land   with  a  lurge  tremulous  light,  ihnt 

A  pledge  a,nd  presage  of  our  destiny. 

Ottawa  is  the  focus  point  of  our 
national  life,  the  centre  of  political 
movement  and  social  activity,  and  the 

abiding  place  of  the  Vice-Re^al  Repre- 
sentatives who  are  to  Canada  wt^at 
the  Queen  is  to  Great  Britain  and  Ire- 

The  Parliament  Buildings  stand  on 
a  hill  close  to  the  centre  of  the  town 
and  overlooking  the  Ottawa  River. 
They  have  been  highly  praised  for  their 
"purity  of  air  and  manliness  of  c 


Anthony  Trollope  said  of 
them,  "  I  know  no  modern 
Gothic  purer  of  its  kind,  or 
less  sullied  with  fictitious 
ornamentation."  Charles 
Dudley  Warner  wrole: 
■'  The  Parliament  House 
and  the  Departmental 
Buildings  on  three  sides  of 
a  square  are  exceedingly 
effective  in  colour  and  the 
perfection  of  Gothic  details, 
especially  in  the  noble  tow- 
ers. There  are  few  groups 
iif  buildings  anywhere  so 
pleasing  to  the  eye  or  that 
appeal  more  strongly  to 
one's  sense  of  dignity  and 

The    late     Sir    James 
Edgar,    Speaker  of  the 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


House  of  Commons,  wrote  thus  of 
the  view  from  Fnrliument  Hill  : 
"Standing  on  the  terrace  behind  the 
Parliament  Buildings,  and  looking  to 
the  north  across  the  river,  the  view  is 
bounded  only  by  the  wooded  Chelsea 
hills,  a  branch  of  the  Great  Laurentian 
range,  which  uplifts  its  shaggy  heights 
for  hundreds  of  miles  away  down  to 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  A  gap  is 
distinctly  visible  among  the  hills,  where 
the  River  Gatineau  flings  its  wild  tor- 
rent, in  its  southerly  course,  to  join  the 
Ottawa.  Raging  rapids  and  fierce  falls 
roar  and  echo  among  those  trees  and 
rocks.  Placid  lakes  lie  embosomed  in 
the  hills  and  pour  their  overflow  of 
crystal  waters  through  wooded  glens 
and  down  foaming  cataracts  to  reach 
peace  again  in  the  valleys  far  below." 
A  mile  east  of  the  Hill  are  the  cur- 
tain-like Rideau  Falls,  and  a  mile  west 
are  the  more  majestic  Chaudiere  Falls. 
The  former  are  formed  by  the  waters 
■of  the  Rideau  River  as  they  drop  into 

the  latter  are 
ominous  wat- 
>ttawa  burst- 
a  narrow 
'ailing  over  a 
clitr,  to  boil 
d  flow  away 
long  journey 

a  steamer  trip  to  Montreal, 



If  one  crosses  the  river 
into  Quebec,  the  manufac- 
turing city  of  Hull,  with  its 
saw-mills  and  paper  factor- 
ies, is  reached.  From  here 
it  is  some  nine  miles  by 
electric  railway  to  Aylmer, 
a  picturesque  French- Ca- 
nadian village  on  the  shores 
of  Lake  Deschenes.  The 
lake,  which  is  thirty  miles 
in  length  and  nine  in  width, 
is  really  an  enlargement  of 
the  Ottawa,  and  an  ideal 
place  for  boating  and  yacht- 
ing. A  summer  hotel,  of 
considerable  proportions, 
affords  accommodation  for 
visitors.  A  few  miles  away, 
in  the  Laurent ian  hills,  there 
are  numerous  streams  and 
lakes  where  bass  and  trout 
are  plentiful.  Club-houses 
and  boats  are  numerous 
throughout  this  lake  re- 

Farther  up  the  Ottawa, 
where  there  are  only  scat- 
tered settlements  and  the 
huts  of  the  lumbermen, 
there  is  fishing  and  hunting 
in  abundance.  There  is 
now  railway  connection  as 
far  north  as  Lake  Temis- 
kaming,  which  lies  in  the 
midst  of  that  great  unset- 
tled portion  of  Ontario  and 

To  the  south,  Ottawa  rs 
connected  with  Kingston 
by  the  Rideau  River  and 
Canal,  and  along  this  wat- 
er-route lie  the  famed  Ri- 
deau Lakes.  Here  there  is 
good  fishing  and  plenty  of 
beautiful  scenery.  A  trip 
by  steamer  or  canoe  from 
Ottawa  to  Kingston  is  not 
nearly  so  popular  a  trip  as 
it  deserves  to  be. 

To  the  west  of  Canada's 
capital  is  Ontario's  forest 
and  game  preserve,  known 
as  Algonquin  Park.  This  is 
reached  by  the  Canada  At- 

□  igitizedbyGoOglC 


litntic  antl  Parry  Sound 
Railway.  Throug'h  these 
virg-in  forests  there  are 
rapid  rivers  and  beautiful 
lake?!,  affording'  an  ever- 
changing  panorama  of 
natural  beauty.  Just 
beyond  the  Park  lies  the 
Parry  Sound  district, 
famed  for  its  lakes,  its 
fishing  and  its  summer  cot- 

Ottawa  itself,  aside  from 
its  being  the  centre  of  a 
charming  lake  and  river  re- 
g'ion,  is  decidedly  interest- 
ing. This  is  especially  true 
while  the  Canadian  Parlia- 
ment is  in  session,  for  at 
that  time  the  city  is  full  of 
visilors,  and  general  fes- 
tivities make  the  life  more 
active.  The  sessions  of 
the  House  and  of  the  Sen- 
ate are  always  attractive  to 
those  who  wish  to  see  poli- 
tical celebrities  at  work. 
From  the  visitor's  gallery 
in  the  House  of  Commons 
one  looks  down  upon  the 
Speaker,  gowned  and  reset- 
ted, upholding  the  dignity 
of  "The  Greatest  Com- 
moner." In  front  of  him 
is  the  Clerk,  seated  at  the 
head  of  the  table  which 
bears  the  mace  of  author- 
ity. On  the  Speaker's  right 
are  the  members  of  the 
Government,  and  on  his 
left  the  Opposition.  The 
debate  may  be  listless  or 
active,  but  in  either  case  a 
study  may  be  made  of  the 
men  who  control  the  des- 
tinies ol  Canada.  In  no 
other  Canadian  city  may 
one  behold  such  men  and 
such  scenes,  and  hence 
Ottawa  is  the  Mecca  of 
all  who  wish  to  see  poli- 
tical life  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  student, 
the  citizen  or  the  philoso- 

□  igitized  by  Google 



By  Beatrice  Rosamund. 

T^HE  smallest  and  the  prettiest  of  the 
■'■  seven  Canadian  provinces  is  Prince 
Edward  Island.  It  lies  in  the  Gulf  of 
St.  Lawrence,  a  few  miles  from  New 
Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia,  and  sepa- 

rated from  them  by  the  Strait  of  Nor- 
thumberiand.      It   is    crescent-shaped, 
and  is  130  miles  long  and  from  two  to 
thirty-four  miles  wide.  Its  earliest  name 
was  the    Island  of   St.  John.     When 
Wolfe  won  his 
great  battle  on 
the     plains    of 
Abraham      it 
passed  from  the 
French    to    the 
British,    but    it 
was      again 
French    from 
17 1 3    to     1758 
when  the  earli- 
est   permanent 
were  made.  The 

now  over  loo,* 
000.  In  1780 
the  name  was 
changed  toNew 
Ireland,  and  a 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


few  years  laier  to  Prince 
Edward  Island,  out  of  com- 
pliment to  the  Duke  of 
Kent,  at  that  time  com- 
mander of  tne  forces  at 

Prince  Edward  Island  has 
been  termed  "  The  Garden 
of  British  North  America," 
its  climate  being  perfect 
and  never  extreme.  It  is 
an  ideal  health  resort,  the 
surrounding  ocean  keeping 
the  air  pure  and  whole- 

Its  picturesqueness  is  not 
bold  but  is  sufficiently 
varied  to  be  attractive. 
Hunter    Duvar,    the    Island  poet,  has  The  Island  is    much  indented    with 

thus  described  it:  bays  and  lovely  arms  of  the  sea,  and 

its     peculiar 
"  A  long  low  greeness    of 

lineofbeach,  c      i  j         _  i 

with  crest  of  ^^'f     ^^"^ 

(rees,  meadow  nv- 

Witti  openings  als  in  beauty 

or  rich  ver-  the  Emerald 

dure,   emer-  Isle  itself, 



■*"''  "■''  Gulfarefifty 


land  is 

Epaygooyal  miles      o  t 

called,  white      sand 

An  isleof  gold-  dunes,  wash- 

en  grain  and  ed  by  the  sea 

'".',"''"'  .nd  forming 

Wilh  vast  fish.  ''■  ^-  '■     *  beautiful  beach.  one     of    the 

leemingwa-  finest    bath- 

lera,  ocean-walled,  ing  beaches  in  the  world. 

The  smallest  province  of  ihe  Maritime."  This  "North  Shore"  maybe  reached 

either  by  driving  straight 
across  the  Island  from  the 
city  of  Charlottetown  ;  a 
delightful  trip  of  less  than 
fifteen  miles,  by  train  or  by 
bicycle.  Along  this  are 
various  summer  hotels  and 
boardinghouses  where  good 
accommodation  is  furnish- 
ed at  a  low  price.  To  lie 
down,  stretched  out  luxur- 
iously on  the  side  of  the 
sand  bank  and  to  gaze  idly 
over  the  dancing  waters  of 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence, 
is  to  be  insensibly  drifted 
into  a  state  of  contented 
p.  E.  I.— THE  SAND  DUNES.  Test.     There    are  Jio  brass. 


hands,  no  side  shows,  no  screaming 
steamboats,  no  foul  odours,  no  gamb- 
ling' houses,  none  of  the  annoyances  of 
a  modern  seaside  resort.  Here  peace 
spreads  her  wings  over  the  white  beach 
which  fringes  a  ffreen  undulating  land- 

Trout  fishing  may  be  had  at  no  great 
trouble,  while  mackerel  and  cod-fishing 
may  be  enjoyed  by  any  who  desire  to 
venture  out  with  the  hardy,  jolly-faced 
fishermen  who  live  along  the  shore. 
The  principal  North  Shore  resorts  are 
located  at  Rustico,  Tracadie,  Stanhope 
and  Brackley  Point.  In  each  of  these 
places  there  are  hotels  whose  carriages 
meet  the  trains  for  the  accommodation 
of  visitors. 

On  the  south  side  of  the  Island  are 
its  two  cities,  Charlottetown  and  Sum- 
merside.  Charlottetown,  the  seat  of 
the  Provincial  Government,  is  situated 
on  an  almost  land-locked  harbour,  the 
red  sand-stone  cliffs  rising  to  guard  a 
riding-place  where  may  often  be  seen 
.•^ome  of  the  vessels  of  the  British 
North  Atlantic  Squadron.  On  a  pro- 
minent  point  ol  land  commanding  the 
entrance  to  the  harbour  is  Fort  Ed- 
ward,   with   a  battery  of  three  guns. 

The  city  occupies  a  pleasant  site,  be- 
ing laid  out  upon  a  slope  that  gradual- 
ly rises  from  the  harbour's  edge  to  a 
height  of  fifty  feet.  The  buildings  are 
substantial,  the  streets  broad  and  well- 
paved,  the  park  broad  and  inviting, 
the  stores  numerous  and  well-stocked. 
It  is  a  lively  little  city,  with  plenty  of 
good  society  and  the  usual  sporting 
and  entertaining  institutions  which  are 
required  by  the  modern  standards  of 
city  life. 

The  harbours  and  the  rivers  running 
north,  east  and  west,  furnish  splendid 
opportunities  for  boating.  Sailing  and 
rowing  are  popular  forms  of  amuse- 
ment, and  during  the  summers  even- 
ings the  "white  wings"  may  be  seen 
flitting  to  and  fro  across  the  waters. 
There  are  one  or  two  boating  clubs, 
and  some  interesting  races  take  place 
each  season,  chiefly  between  the  yachts 
of  the  city  sportsmen  and  the  less 
beautiful,  but  usually  swifter,  Rshing 
boats  from  the  hamlets  along  the  shore. 
Sea-trout  and  mackerel  are  to  be  found 
within  easy  reach,  so  that  the  disciple 
of  Walton  will  not  go  away  disappoint- 
ed. The  fishing,  however,  is  not  so 
good  here  as  along  the  north  shore. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


By  (Jean    Blewett . 

TIT^E  ar«  leaving^  Quebec.  The  man 
*'  from  Michigan  and  his  pretty 
daug'hter  do  not  go  with  us  to  St.  Anne. 
They  spend  the  afternoon  rambling 
throug'h  the  narrow  streets,  and  losing 
themselves  in  the  funny  byways  of 
Lower  Town,  where  round-faced  child- 
ren play  on  the  doorsteps  and  stare  at 
the  passer-by,  where  the  housewife  on 
one  side  the  street  leans  out  the  win- 
dow to  g'Ossip  in  whisp>ers  with  her 
neighbour    over   the   way.      We 

for  it,  the  maimed  for  healing,  the 
blind  for  sight,  the  deaf  for  hearing, 
the  sinning  for  pardon,  the  broken- 
hearted for  comfort. 

On  each  side  of  the  aisle  are  piled  the 
canes  and  crutches  of  pilgrims  who 
have  here  come  for  healing — «ight  tall 
tiers  to  the  right,  eight  to  the  left. 
The  Breton  fishermen  builded  better 
than  they  knew  when,  out  of  gratitude 
for  deliverance  from  danger  at  sea, 
they   erected   the   original   St.   Anne, 

not  sorry.  The  man  from  Michigan  is  more  than  three  centuries  ago. 
a  good-natured  travelling  companion,  All  through  the  lower  provinces  are 
but  he  is  also  an  incessant  talker,  and  shrines  and  relics  in  abundance.  We 
as  the  train  leaves  Quebec  behind  and  lose  our  zest  for  them  as  we  go  farther 
bears  us  toward  St.  Anne  it  seems  and  farther  east;  but  this  is  the  begin- 
good  to  enjoy  the  beauty  of  the  land-  ning  of  things,  and  we  examine  with 
scape  in  silence.  On  one  side  runs  the  interest  the  piece  of  rock  which  they 
blue-bosomed  river,  on  the  other  one  inform  us  is  from  the  grotto  In  which 
long  straggling  street,  mile  after  mile  the  Virgin  Mary  was  born,  the  case 
of  white-washed  houses  with  morning  which  holds  a  finger  of  St.  Anne,  and 
glories  covering  the  windows,  and  sun-  all  the   rest.     The    paintings  and  the 

flowers  nodding  in  the  gardens. 

For  a  long  time  we  have  heard  the 
voice  of  Montmorenci  calling,  call- 
in|^,  making  itself  heard  above  the 
clamour  of  the  train,  and  by  and  by  we 
see  it  rushing,  fleeiug  through  the  rocky 
gorge,  flinging  itself  with  might  and 
madness  over  the  great  cliffs.  The 
rocks  look  bleak  and  grim  with  that 
foamy  cataract  racing  by  them.  How 
loud  and  passionate  it  is  for  so  soft  and 
fair  a  thing.  Far  up  the  hills  the  lone- 
some  pines  look  and  listen,  leaning  over 
as  if  they  fain  would  hold  it  closer  and 
hide  it  in  their  deep  greenness. 

The  voice  of  the  Montmorenci 
follows  us  all  the  way  to  St,  Anne. 
After  hearing  and  reading  so  much  of 
this  famous  shrine  of  healing,  a  certain 
solemnity  falls  on  us  as  we  enter  the 

statues  came  from  France,  many  of 
them,  and  are  the  works  of  masters, 
but  we  turn  from  them  to  look  at  a 
living  picture  fuller  of  passion  and 
pathos  than  even  those  of  Lebrun's. 

A  fair-haired  boy  is  kneeling  at  the 
altar,  tears  on  his  cheeks  and  pleading 
in  his  tones.  Now  he  flings  his  arms 
out  as  if  he  fain  would  clasp  the  knees 
of  the  saint  as  a  boy  clasps  those  of 
his  mother  when  he  begs  a  boon^ — ^his 
slender  frame  trembles  with  eagerness 
and  hope.  We  look  at  the  crutches 
beside  him,  at  the  shrunken  limbs,  and 
the  pity  of  it  touches  us. 

Up  the  aisle  comes  a  blind  child  led  by 
a  white-haired  woman,  the  grand- 
mere  perhaps.  The  sunshine  streams 
through  the  stained  glass  full  upon 
them  as  they  kneel.     The  touch  of  the 

quiet  place.  The  faith  of  a  man,  be  he  angel  of  death  is  on  the  little  face- 
Catholic  or  Protestant,  is  a  holy  thing,  sweet  in  its  pallor.  The  grandmere 
Here  the  sick  have  cried  for  health,  is  praying  for  sight  for  her  darling, 
down,  down  on  their  knees  have  cried  Pray  away,  dear  woman,  the  day  of 
5  65 




Ifropin^  in  the  dark  is  almost  over  for 
the  little  one — she  will  soon  see  the 
King  in  His  beauty  and  the  Land  that 
is  very  far  off, 

As  we  leave  the  shrine  of  St.  Anne, 
a  party  ot  pilgrims  are  climbing  the 
scala-sancta,  or  holy  stair,  on  their 
knees,  and  chanting  a  hymn  to  the 
Saint  as  they  climb.  Their  full  tones 
follow  us  : 

"  Wouldst  thou  be  free  of  the  pain  and  the 

Healed  of  thy  sickness,  cured  of  (hy  sorrow  ? 
Kneel  at  the  shrine  of  St.  Anne  the  merciful, 
Shtf  of  (he  tender  heart 

St.  Anne  the  merciful." 

During  the  delicious  journey  through 
the  country  of  the  habitant  the  man 
from  Michigan  finds  much  of  which  to 
disapprove,  but  he  is  so  in  earnest,  so 
frankly  good-natured  in  his  criticisms 
of  things,  that  nobody  minds  him. 
The  habitant's  way  of  farming,  his  out- 
of-date  plough  and  harrow,  his  manner 
of  piling  the  stones  in  the  middle  of  a 
field  instead  of  in  a  corner,  the  queer 
mills  with  which  he  grinds  his  grain, 
all  these  things  worry  the  man  from 
Michigan.  But  one  high  noon  of  a 
glorious  day  nature  has  the  man  so  in 
love  with  her  that  there  is  no  more 
faultfinding  for  a  space.  We  have 
come  to  the  Metapedia  valley,  and  any- 
thing fairer,  anything  fuller  of  dazzling 
surprises  cannot  be  imagined. 

The  mountains  on  the  right,  with 
their  blue  veils  on  their  heads,  are 
frowning  at  the  mountains  on  the  left 
across  the  green  and  gold  of  the  valley ; 
a  white  mist  goes  slipping  toward  the 
sea  from  whence  it  came ;  the  beeches 
are  still  green,  but  the  maples  are 
scarlet,  and  the  slender  elms  are  gold- 
en. Through  it  all  the  Metapedia  river 
goes  with  its  rapids  and  water-falls,  its 
crooning  and  murmuring.  "  Water  of 
Song  "  the  Indians  named  it  in  the  be- 
ginning. It  has  such  a  changing  face 
this  river — smiling  one  moment,  tem- 
pestuous the  next.  We  look  ;  it  is  a 
fierce  wild  thing  impatient  of  restraint; 
again,  and  it  isa  tender  water-child  play- 
ing by  itself  among  the  rocks  and  hills. 
A  canoe  flits  past,  another,  and  another, 

and  up,  up,  as  far  as  eye  can  see,  the 
hald- headed  mountains  are  roiting 
gloriously  in  the  sunshine. 

At  St.  John  we  are  in  danger  of  los- 
ing the  man  from  Michigan  altogether 
— he  is  so  taken  with  the  place  that  he 
suggests  to  his  daughter  that  they 
spend  the  rest  of  their  holiday  here. 

"  Oh,  papa,  and  miss  the  land  of 
Evangeline  !  "  she  cries, 

"  Well,  to  tell  the  truth  I'd  like  to  see 
that  place  you've  been  talking  so  much 
about,  but  all  this  ship-building,  and 
vessels  coming,  and  vessels  going,  all 
this  tide  business,  river  full  one  time, 
and  not  much  more  than  a  mudbole  an- 
other, just  takes  my  eye.  However,  I'll 
go  along  and  see  the  rest  of  it  with 
you.  Do  you  suppose,"  turning  to  us, 
"that  I'll  he  sorry  !  spent  so  much 
time  and  money  getting  there  when  I 
look  at  that  Acadian  place  ?  " 

"  You  will  not  be  sorry,"  we  assured 
him,  and  afterwards  wished  we  had  said 
otherwise,  for  many  times  and  oft  he 
casts  our  words  up  to  us  during  our 
sojourn  in  the  land  of  Evangeline. 

Acadia  owes  a  mighty  debt  to  Long- 
fellow. If  that  song  of  the  poet's, 
strong,  sorrowful,  tender,  had  not 
made  the  meadows  of  Grand  Pr£,  the 
old  willows  planted  by  the  Acadians  in 
the  days  of  peace  and  prosperity, 
Minas  Basin,  Blomidon,  the  pasture 
lands  over  which  the  mist  and  sea  fog 
hover,  familiar  things,  the  place  would 
not  hold  us  so. 

To-day  the  meadows  are  stretching 
out  in  the  sunshine;  what  is  left  of  the 
forest  primeval  has  its  autumn  glory 
on  ;  Minas  Basin,  full  to  the  brim,  is 
flashing  back  the  light  thrown  on  it 
from  the  sky  ;  the  ships  %o  by  with  all 
their  white  sails  spread  ;  old  Blomidon, 
frowning  always  in  sun  or  shadow,  is 
blue  as  blue  can  be.  There  are  the 
apple  trees  which  used  to  blossom  in 
some  peasant's  garden,  bent  and  life- 
less now.  Straightway  our  imagina- 
tion is  at  work. 

We  see  old  Benedict  Bellefontaine's 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



house  with  Us  thatched  roof,  its  gables, 
and  its  dormer  windows,  and  we  see 
the  big  ha]e  Benedict  in  the  doorway. 
He  has  a  pride  in  his  harvest  ripening 
for  the  sickle,  in  his  flocks  and  his 
herds,  but  ah,  so  much  more  in  the 
maiden  beside  him  I  How  well  you 
know  her,  the  maiden  of  seventeen 
summers.  You  can  see  her  at  her 
wheel,  stn|fin|f  to  herself,  and  turning- 
her  dark  eyes  often  toward  the  village, 
for  may  not  Basil's  son  be  coming  for 
the  long  talk  in  soft  grey  twilight?  You 
see  her  going  from  one  thirsty  har- 
vester to  another  with  her  foaming 
pitcher.  You  see  her  in  the  early 
morning,  the  pails  in  her  hands  wait- 
ing for  the  cows  to  come  up  from  the 
pasture  land^such  a  pretty  bustling 
housewife,  this  week-day  Evangeline. 

The  Sabbath  Evangeline  is  sweeter, 
though.  There  she  goes,  in  her  blue 
kirtle,  as  the  church  bells  ring.  Is  she 
or  is  she  not  a  trifle  conscious  that  she 
is  fair  to  look  upon  in  her  Norman  cap, 
ear-rings  in  her  ears,  kerchief  over  her 
bosom,  as  she  walks  onward  with 
God's  benediction  upon  her  ? 

Yonder  is  Basil's  forge,  and  Basil  at 
it  with  his  leather  apron  on.  You  see 
the  wives  of  the  village  spinning  at  (he 
doorsteps,  the  children  at  play,  the 
laborers  coming  home  at  sunset,  and 
you  hear  the  clack,  clack  of  the  gossip- 
ing looms.  All  this  you  see  and  hear 
because  one  of  God's  singers  has  sung 
to  you  of  them.  Before  you  knew  the 
meaning  of  love  and  sorrow  you  were 
familiar  with  the  story  filled  with  both 
— the  story  of  Evangeline  and  her 
lover  Gabriel. 

Every  one  does  not  see  so  much. 
The  man  from  Michigan  comes  up  with 
a  perplexed  air  to  ask  "  where  is  Grand 
Pri,  any  way  ?  " 

"This  is  Grand  Pr^,"  we  assure 

"Never  !  where  is  that  Minas  Basin 
I've  heard  so  much  about  ?  "  glancing 
suspiciously  around  as  though  under 
the  belief  that  some  one  has  hidden 
Minas  under  a  bushel  on  purpose  to 
defraud  him  of  his  rights  as  an  Ameri- 
can citizen." 

An  aifable  stranger  points  out  Minas, 
and  the  man  gives  a  snort  of  contempt. 
"  Umph  !  you  could  drop  it  in  one 
corner  of  lake  Michigan  and  never 
know  it  was  there.  Where  is  your  big 
beautiful  Blomidon  ?   Show  him  to  me. " 

And  he  shades  his  eyes  with  his 
hand  and  stares  at  Blomidon  so  dis- 
paragingly that  Blomidon  must  feel 
properly  ashamed  of  itself. 

"  Look,  papa,"  cries  his  daughter, 
"look  at  the  low  green  meadows 
stretching  out  in  the  sun,  just  as  they 
did  centuries  ago, 

'  Giving  the  village  its  name,  and  pasture  to 
flocks  without  number.' " 

"I've  got  meadows  to  home  that 
can  knock  the  spots ofany  I  see  here." 

He  grumbles  and  is  not  his  good- 
natured  self  till  we  are  in  the  famous 
apple  orchards  of  the  Annapolis  valley. 
On  the  day  we  have  the  picnic  with  the 
apple  pickers  he  looks  happier  than  he 
has  for  a  long  time. 

"  I  know  a  good  thing  when  I  see 
it,"  he  says,  "  and  1  like  this  part  of 
the  country  first  rate." 

"  Better  than  the  meadows  of  Grand 
Pr^  ?  "  some  one  asks. 

"I  wouldn't  care  to  farm  in  that 
part  of  the  country,"  he  returns. 
"  When  a  man  is  busy  at  his  haying 
it's  bother  enough  to  look  out  for  the 
water  that  comes  down  without  having 
to  keep  an  eye  on  the  water  that  comes 
up.  I  laugh  every  time  I  think  of 
each  haycock  sitting  up  on  a  frame* 
work  of  its  own  to  keep  out  of  reach  of 
the  tide." 

O  the  breath  of  the  apple  lands  of 
Acadia;  it  goes  sultry  among  the  hills, 
down  the  river  to  the  wooded  isles,  out 
and  away  through  Digby  Gut  to  that 
salt  water  thing  of  many  moods,  the 
Bay  of  Fundy,  where  the  men  busy 
with  their  nets  draw  in  long  breaths  of 
it,  and  crossing  themselves  devoutly, 
give  thanks  for  the  sunshine  of  St. 
Eulalie,  which 

"  Filled  their  orchards  with  apples." 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



By  Dr.   G.  Archit  Stockaell.  F.Z.S. 

PROLOGUE.— Some  years  agro,  while 
visiting  Portsmouth,  Enj^land, 
1  hunted  up  an  old  acquaintance,  an 
ancient  pensioner  by  the  name  of  But- 
ler, who  was  minus  an  arm  as  a  result 
of  the  last  "misunderstanding'"  be- 
tween Great  Britain  and  France. 

I  found  "  old  Geordie  "  sitting  out- 
side his  well-known  cottage  at  Mill 
Lane,  Torton  (Gosport),  and  he  at  once 
expressed  himself  as  "downright 
glad  "  to  see  me. 

A  little  tact  soon  made  him  reminis- 
cent, and  1  availed  myself  of  a  con- 
venient opportunity  to  turn  his  thoughts 
towards  the  last  war  between  Great 
Britain  and  the  United  States. 

■■Well,  sir,  thank  God  !  I  am  hale 
and  hearty,  though  I  was  born  March 
17th,  1797.  I  had  nineteen  years  and 
twelve  months'  sea  servitude,*  and  all 
that  time  I  was  bringing  money  home, 
lighting  the  Crapoos's  and  Ameri- 
cans, and  looking,  after  pirates. 

"When  I  entered  the  Macedonian 
frigate,  I  was  a  little  chap  going  on 
thirteen  years  old.  This  ship  was  one 
of  the  handsomest  afloat,  commanded 
by  Lord  Wm.  Fitzroy  ;  and  when  I 
joined  she  lay  at  Gravesend,  but  al- 
most immediately  was  sent  around  to 
Spithead  to  convey  a  '  lobster  box '  t 
to  Lisbon.  We  then  run  over  to 
Corunna,  only  to  be  ordered  back  to 
Portsmouth,  where  Lord  Fitzroy  was 
court-martialed  as  the  result  of  a 
quarrel  with  the  ship's  master,  which 
caused  them  both  to  be  broken   {de- 

*The  naval  year  was  formerly  computed  at 
thirleen  instead  of  twelve  months,  the  extra 
thirty  days  being-  technically  known  as  the 
"  King-'a  month  ; "  consequently  Geordie  had 
really  served  twenty-one  years  and  seven 

prived  of  rank  and  dismissed  the 
service).  Captain  Colden  took  com- 
mand, but  only  for  a  few  wpeks,  when 
he  was  promoted  to  the  Royal  Sover- 
eign, a  line-of-battle  ship,  making 
place  for  Captain  Waldegrave  ;  then, 
after  a  short  cruise  on  the  Spanish 
coast  and  back  to  Lisbon  again,  Cap- 
tain John  Garden  superseded  Captain 

Captain  Carden  was  known  as  a 
"smart  officer" ;  his  aim  was  to 
possess  a  crew  only  of  picked,  first- 
rate  men,  and  hence  he  made  it  a 
point  to  get  rid  of  all  shiftless,  slovenly 
sailors  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 
As  he  could  not  discharge  these  from 
the  service,  he  exchanged  where  pos- 
sible into  other  ships  ;  and  when  this 
measure  failed  he  would  aiford  oppor- 
tunities for  the  undesirable  men  to 
desert,  when  no  efforts  were  ever  made 
for  their  recapture — a  procedure  quite 
contrary  to  that  when  a  really  good 
man  took  it  into  his  head  to  take 
"  French  leave." 

About  this  time  it  was  common  talk 
that  there  would  be  war  with  the 
States,  and  we  were  ordered  with  de- 
spatches to  Norfolk,  Virginia.  While 
at  anchor  in  Hampton  Roads  the 
strictest  care  was  taken  to  prevent  all 
communication  with  the  shore  on  the 
part  of  the  crew,  but  our  officers  cer- 
tainly never  enjoyed  better  cheer. 
Captain  Carden  exchanged  visits  with 
Commodore  Decatur  of  the  frigate 
United   States,  and    it    was    rumored  • 

these  two  officers  indulged  in  banter 
as  to  the  result  of  a  conflict  between  ' 

their  respective  ships  ;  some  said  there  1 

was  a  wager  laid  of  a  beaver  hat. 

'The  exact  verbiag'e  of  the  old  seaman  Is  1 

here  abandoned  and  likewise   the  narrative  I 

condensed,  yet  the  style  is  retained  as  far  as 
possible.  — Author. 



A  quick  winter  passage  took  us  back 
to  Lisbon,  when  soon  we  were  ordered 
to  England  again.  On  arrival  at 
Plymouth  liberty  was  given  the  whole 
crew,  while  the  old  ship  underwent 
certain  necessary  repairs. 

After  refitting  we  spent  a  couple  of 
months  in  the  Basque  Roads,  and 
here  were  fortunate  enough  to  take  a 
couple  of  Preach  prizes — one  a  brandy- 
wine  and  castile-soap  laden  lugger 
was  fairly  cut  out  from  Brest  harbour. 
Then  we  ran  back  to  Plymouth;  and 
from  here  were  sent  to  Torbay,  to  con- 
voy ten  East  Indian  merchantmen 
"two  days' sail  beyond  Madeira." 

Though  without  any  positive  infor- 
mation, we  were  now  pretty  certain  war 
had  been  declared  with  the  States. 
Our  Captain  appeared  more  serious 
than  usual,  and  was  constantly  on  deck. 
The  lookout  aloft  also  was  more  rigidly 
observed ;  and  when  we  parted  from  the 
merchantmen  this  lookout  became 
more  active  still.  The  cry  of  "  Mast* 
head  there  1 "  could  be  heard  almost 
every  half  hour. 

October  25th,  1812,  came  in  with  a 
stiff  breeze,  and  all  hands  were  ordered 
into  "  clean  blue  mustering  clothes." 
Scarce  had  the  word  passed,  however, 
than  the  fore  top  lookout  sang  out. 
The  Captain  was  on  deck  in  a  trice 
and  hailed  : 

"Where  away?  " 

"  Four  points  on  the  leebeam,  sir." 
"  What  does  she  look  like  ?  " 
"  A  square  rigged  vessel,  sir," 
A  few  minutes'  later  another  hail  se- 
cured the  response  :     "A  large  ship 
standing  toward  us,  sir ; "   and  after 
another   interval:     "A    large    frigate 
bearing  down,  sir." 

A  whisper  at  once  ran  among  the 
crew  that  the  stranger  was  a  Yankee 
frigate,  and  this  was  apparently  con- 
firmed by  the  order,  "All  hands  clear 
ship,"  when  drum  and  fife  beat  to 
quarters,  bulkheads  were  knocked 
away,  and  gun  tackles  cast  loose. 

Our  crew  were  in  good  spirits,  though 
many  expressed  a  wish  the  stranger 
might  prove  a  Frenchman  rather  than 
a  Yankee,  for  we  had  a  suspicion  the 
latter  might  prove  a  little  heavy  for  us 


— the  Yankee  sailors  we  had  met 
on  different  occasions  assured  us  their 
ships,  rated  in  the  same  class,  were 
stouter  and  heavier  built,  likewise 
carried  guns  of  greater  metal  than 

Presently  we  were  able  to  distin- 
guish the  stars  and  stripes  at  the  gaff 
of  the  stranger,  which  definitely  settled 
the  question  of  her  nationality.  And 
now  our  guns  were  shotted  and  run 
out  and  matches  lighted,  for  though 
locks  had  been  introduced,  there  was 
some  question  as  to  their  efficiency, 
and  the  former  were  prepared  in  case 

1  was  stationed  as  "monkey"  to  No. 
5  g^n  on  the  main  deck,  my  duty  being 
to  bring  powder  from  the  magazine. 
A  woollen  screen  hung  before  the  en- 
trance to  the  latter,  and  through  a  hole 
therein  cartridges  were  passed  out, 
which  the  boy  in  waiting  received,  cov- 
ered  with  his  jacket,  &nd  then  hurried 
away  to  his  gun. 

At  last  we  fired  three  guns  from  for- 
ward on  the  larboard  main  deck ;  then 
came  the  order,  "Cease  firing,"  quickly 
followed  by  "Prepare  to  wear  ship," 
the  purpose  being  to  attack  with  the 
starboard  batteries.  A  little  later  I 
heard  firing  which  I  supposed  to  be 
our  quarter-deck  guns  until  sounds 
overhead  like  the  tearing  of  canvas 
showed  it  was  the  enemy  paying  her 
respects  to  us. 

There  was  another  lull  of  a  few  min- 
utes, when  firing  recommenced,  this 
time  not  by  single  guns  but  by  bat- 
teries, and  the  roaring  of  cannon  was 
heard  from  all  parts  of  the  trembling 
ship,  and  mingling  as  it  did  with  that 
of  our  foes  it  made  a  terrible  din. 
Then  the  shot  began  to  strike,  and  the 
whole  scene  became  indescribably  con- 
fused and  hideous. 

I  was  busy  supplying  my  gun  with 
powder  when  suddenly  blood  flew  from 
the  arm  of  the  man  at  the  linstock — I 
saw  nothing  strike  him — but  in  an  in- 
stant the  third  lieutenant  had  tied  up 
the  wound  with  a  handkerchief  and 
then  sent  him  below. 

Soon  the  groans  and  cries  of  the  in- 
jured   rang   through    all   parts  of  the 




ship,  and  the  unfortunates  were  carried 
to  the  cockpit  as  fast  as  possible,  while 
those  killed  were  immediatdy  thrown 
overboard.  1  was  stationed  but  a 
short  distance  from  the  main  hatchway 
and  could  see  those  who  were  carried 
below,  but  a  mere  glance  was  all  I  had 
time  for,  since  the  boys  serving  the 
g^ns  on  either  side  of  mine  were 
wouaded  at  the  beginning  of  the  ac- 
tion and  1  was  obliged  to  supply  their 
places  and  "spring"  with  all  my  might. 
A  master's  mate,  of  my  division,  a 
noble-hearted  fellow,  by  the  name  of 
Dan  Kivell,  fell  almost  in  front  of  me, 
having  been  struck  by  a  grape-shot 
over  the  heart.  Mr.  Hope,  our  first 
lieutenant,  was  also  wounded  by  a 
grummet,"  and  went  below  to  have 
his  wound  dressed,  but  was  back  again 
in  a  few  moments  shouting  and  en- 
couraging the  men  at  the  top  of  his 
voice.  Our  crew  were  continually 
cheering,  though  for  what  I  must  con- 
fess 1  do  not  know,  except  it  was  to 
keep  up  their  spirits. 

After  a  while,  not  only  was  it  dis- 
covered several  boys  and  men  had  been 
killed  and  wounded,  but  that  many  of 
our  guns  were  disabled.  My  gun  had 
a  piece  of  its  muzzle  knocked  out,  and 
with  a  sudden  roll  of  the  ship  struck  a 
beam  of  the  upper  deck  with  such  force 
as  to  become  jammed  and  fixed  in  that 
position.  A  twenty-four  pound  shot 
also  passed  through  the  screen  of  the 
magazine  immediately  over  the  orifice 
through  which  was  passed  the  powder, 
and  that  too  at  a  moment  when  1  was 
receiving  a  cartridge  from  the  hands 
of  one  of  the  gunner's  mates.  Our 
boatswain,  who  for  some  weeks  had 
been  ill  and  came  from  the  sick  bay  to 
take  his  station,  received  his  death 
wound  while  fastening  a  stopper  on  a 
back-stay  which  had  been  shot  away ; 
and  it  was  a  peculiar  coincidence  that 
the  same  warrant  officer  in  the  Ameri- 
can frigate  bore  the  same  name,  Wil- 
liam Brown,  and  that  both  were  killed 
under  precisely  the  same  circumstances, 
and  almost  at  the  same  minute. 

Our  men   fought  like   tigers;  some 

pulled  off  their  jackets,  some  their 
jackets  and  w3ist;:oats,  and  othera 
again  even  their  shirts,  tying  neck- 
kerchiefs  around  the  waistband  of 
trousers.  A"powder  monkey"  named 
Cooper,  stationed  at  a  gun  some  dis- 
tance from  the  magazine,  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  officers  by  going  to 
and  fro  at  full  run,  apparently  as 
"  merry  as  a  cricket. "  He  earned  the 
encomium  from  the  third  lieutenant, 
"Well  done,  my  lad,  you're  worth 
your  weight  in  gold." 

Aside  from  the  twenty-four  pound 
shot,  an  iron  hail  of  grape  and  can- 
ister poured  through  our  port-holes, 
carrying  death  and  destruction  in  their 
trail.  The  large  shot  passed  through 
the  ship's  side,  shaking  her  to  the 
very  keel,  and  scattered  terrific  splin- 
ters, which  did  even  more  appalling 
work.  With  splinters,  cannon  balls, 
grape  and  canister  incessantly  flying, 
death  held  carnival  in  a  way  to  sat- 
isfy the  king  of  terrors  himself.  After 
a  time  came  a  pause  in  the  rattle 
of  shot  and  iron,  when  we  were  or- 
dered to  "cease  firing;"  then  a  pro- 
found silence  ensued,  broken  only  by 
the  stifled  groans  of  the  brave  sufferers 
below.  It  was  now  ascertained  that 
the  enemy  had  shot  ahead  to  repair 
damages,  for  she  was  not  so  disabled 
but  she  could  sail  without  difficulty, 
while  we  were  so  cut  up  as  to  lie 
utterly  helpless—our  head  braces  were 
shot  away,  fore  and  main  topmasts 
gone,  the  mizzen-mast  over  the  stem  ; 
in  fact,  the  Macedonian  was  little  better 
than  a  wreck. 

Our  condition  was  perilous  in  the 
extreme,  since  victory  or  escape  were 
alike  hopeless.  Not  only  was  our  ship 
disabled,  but  a  large  number  of  men 
had  been  killed  outright,  or  badly 
wounded.  The  enemy  moreover  now 
.  had  the  great  advantage  of  being  able 
to  select  her  position  at  will,  and,  of 
course,  could  thereby  rake  us  fore  and 
aft ;  consequently  further  resistance 
would  be  an  act  of  folly.  A  council 
was  held  among  the  officers,  and  in 
spite  of  the  fact  our  hot-brained  first 
lieutenant,  Mr.  Hope,  urged  we  should 
sink  alongside,  it  was  determined  to 




surrender,  and  our  fla|f  ordered  struck. 
Then  down  came  the  royal  naval  en- 
sign at  the  hands  of  a  quarter- master 
named  Watson,  whose  cheeks  streamed 
with  tears  of  mingled  grief  and  rage, 
and  His  Britannic  Majesty's  frigate 
Macedonian  lay  a  prize  to  the  American 
frigate  United  States. 

And  now  I  went  below  to  see  how 
matters  appeared  ;  but  the  scene  will 
oot  bear  description.  The  like  I  had 
never  witnessed  before,  and  hope  never 
to  see  again,  and  one  would  think  if 
the  civilized  world  could  but  behold  the 
results  of  battle  as  they  really  are, 
nations  would  forego  forever  the  bar- 
barismofwar.  The  dining  table  inthe 
gun  room  had  become  the  operating 
board  for  the  sui^eoa  and  his  assist- 
ants, who  were  busy  as  possible,  and 
the  deck  and  state  rooms  were  filled 
with  wounded.  On  arrival  of  boats 
from  the  United  States,  an  American 
lieutenant,  a  Mr.  Nicholson,  descend- 
ed the  hatchway  and  saluted  our  sur- 
geon with  "  How  do  you  do,  doctor?" 
"  Enough  to  do,"  replied  the  latter, 
shaking  his  head  thoughtfully.  "  You 
have  made  wretched  work  for  us." — 
Remember  these  gentlemen  were  not 
strangers,  for  when  the  Macedonian 
was  at  Hampton  Roads  the  command- 
ers and  officers  of  the  two  frigates  had 
exchanged  many  visits. 

Most  of  our  officers  and  men  were 
taken  on  board  the  American  frigate, 
but  a  few,  including  myself,  were  left 
to  assist  in  caring  for  the  wounded, 
who  kept  our  surgeons  busily  employ- 
ed until  late  at  night. 

When  the  prize  crew  boarded  us  the 
utmost  good  will  prevailed.  We  took 
hold  and  helped  cleanse  the  ship,  using 
hot  vinegar  to  take  the  blood  stains 
from  the  planks;  also  assisted  in  refit' 
ting;  and  the  latter  being  finished,  both 
ships  sailed  in  company  toward  the 
.American  coast. 

All  thought  of  the  fact  we  had  so  re- 
r-ently  been  flying  at  one  another's 
throats,  so  to  speak,  was  forgotten, 
and  we  became  fast  friends — we  ate 
and  drank  together,  joked,  laughed, 
told  yams  and  argued  over  the  fight 
rom  our   respective    national    stand- 

points. Indeed,  our  officers  and  crew 
alike  were  treated  as  if  they  were  hon- 
oured guests  instead  of  prisoners  of 

Commodore  Decatur  proved  himself 
a  gentleman  as  well  as  hero  in  his 
treatment  of  the  conquered ;  and  when 
our  Captain  Garden  sought  to  deliver  up 
his  sword,  at  the  same  time  exclaiming 
he  was  an  "  undone  man,"  and  the  first 
British  naval  officer  to  strike  his  flag  to 
an  American,  the  Commodore  refused 
to  receive,  or  immediately  returned  it, 
replying:  "You  are  mistaken,  sir; 
your  Guerriere  has  been  taken  by  us, 
and  consequently  the  flag  of  that  frigate 
struck  before  yours."  This  somewhat 
revived  the  spirit  of  our  commander, 
though  he  was  still  greatly  mortified  at 
the  loss  of  his  ship. 

While  making  our  way  to\i'ard  port, 
the  Macedonian,  in  spite  of  the  fact  she 
was  now  merely  a  patched-up  wreck, 
proved  far  superior  to  her  captor  in 
point  of  sailing,  and  it  was  highly  evid- 
ent if  we  had  been  disposed  to  avoid 
the  fight  it  could  have  been  done  with 
all  imaginable  ease ;  but  then  this  would 
have  justly  en  tailed  great  disgrace  white 
capture  did  not.  Indeed,  the  American 
frigate  had  always  been  a  dull  sailer, 
so  much  so  she  was  called  by  her  crew 
the  "Old  Waggon."  Whenever  a  boat 
came  alongside  our  frigate  and  the  boat- 
swain's mate  piped  away,  he  always 
ended  his  K-week,  K-week-week-week 
with  :  "  Away,  Waggrmers,  away  !  " — 
instead  of  "  Away,  United  States  men, 
away  !"  The  officers  sometimes  rebuk- 
ed him,  but  when  they  did  it  was  in  a 
way  as  to  show  they  enjoyed  the  joke, 
and  consequently  it  was  repeated  on 
every  occasion. 

There  was  every  reason  why  the 
United  States  proved  the  winning 
ship.  She  was  not  only  larger  in 
size  and  more  numerous  in  men,  but 
stronger  built  than  the  Macedonian. 
Another  fact  in  her  favour  was  that  our 
Captain  at  first  mistook  her  for  the 
Essex,  which  carried  short  carronades, 
hence  engaged  her  first  at  long  range, 
for  as  we  had  the  weather-gage  we 
could  have  taken  whatever  position  we 
pleased.     By  this  manoeuvre,  however, 




he  not  only  wasted  shot,  but  gave  the 
United  States  a  great  advantage,  as  she 
actually  carried  larger  metal,  and 
when  in  close  action  her  shot  went 
through  and  through  the  Macedonian, 
while  most  of  ours  only  stuck  in  her 
sides  and  fell  harmlessly  into  the  water. 
Her  superiority  both  in  men  and  guns 
is  evidenced  by  the  fact  she  carried  a 
crew  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  men 
and  fifty-four  guns-  -long  twenty-four 
pounders  on  the  spar  deck,  and  forty- 
two-pound  carronades  on  the  forecastle 
and  quarter-deck,  while  we  carried  but 
forty- nine  guns — long  eigh teens,  on 
the  main  deck,  and  thirty-two- pound 
carronades  on  the  quarter-deck  and 
forecastle — and  our  total  number  of 
hands,  including  officers,  men  and  boys, 
was  but  three  hundred.'* 

Our  voyage  was  one  of  considerable 
excitement  since  the  sea  swarmed  with 
our  own  cruisers,  and  it  was  extremely 
doubtful  whether  the  United  States 
could  elude  their  grasp  and  reach  port 
with  her  prize.  Nevertheless  we  arriv- 
ed in  soundings  off  the  Island  of  Nan- 
tucket, and  soon  were  sailing  up  Long 
Island  Sound  toward  New  London. 
The  United  i'Ail^  succeeded  in  entering 
the  latter  port,  but,  owing  to  a  sudden 
shift  of  wind,  the  Macedonian  was  ob- 
liged to  lay  off  and  on  for  several  hours 
when,  had  an  English  frigate  found  her, 
recapture  would  have  been  a  simple  and 
easy  matter,  to  which,  moreover,  we 
would  not  in  the  least  have  objected. 
But  after  several  hours'  backing  and 
filling,  the  prize  officer  in  charge  de- 
dded  to  run  for  Newport,  R.I.,  which 
harbour  we  entered,  firing  a  salute  as 
we  came  to  anchor,  that  was  promptly 
returned  from  the  fort. 

Here  the  wounded  were  all  carried 
on  shore ;  likewise  such  of  our  officers 
as  remained  on  board  were  transferred 
to  other  quarters.  A  few  days  later  we 
were  again  under  way  and  ran  down  to 
New  London,  off  which  port  a  signal 
gun  was  fired  and  answered  by  the 
United  States,  which  soon  joined  us  ; 
then  both  ships  sailed  in  company  to 

•  This  statement  is  fully  corroborated  by 
certain  American  aiilhors,  notably  Bancroft, 
and  also  Lossing'. — AtrrBOR. 

New  York.  Here  after  a  few  weeks 
we  were  placed  aboard  a  cartel  and  for- 
warded to  Halifax  for  exchange;  and 
glad  enough  we  were  to  find  ourselves 
under  our  own  flag  once  more. 

NoTG. — The  Mactdonian  is  still  in  posses- 
sion of  the  Naval  Authorities  of  the  United 
Stales,  and  up  to  within  a  few  months  ago 
formed  an  active  integral  part  of  the  Naval 
Academy  Squadron,  another  notable  ship  ot 
the  same  fleet  being  the  frigate  Gmtlitutian, 
better  known,  perhaps,  as  "Old  Ironsides." 
At  the  close  of  the  late  American  Civil  War, 
when  the  Naval  Academy  was  returned  from 
Newport,  Rhode  Island,  to  its  antt  betlum 
station  at  Annapolis,  Maryland,  these  two 
survivors  of  a  previous  conflict,  surprised  the 
naval  world  1^  logging,  under  their  own 
sails,  thirtttn  inoti—A  rate  of  sailing  that 
would,  at  this  lime,  have  been  deemed  excel- 
lent for  any  steam  propeller  craft  of  any  naval 
power  In  the  world. 

Latterly  there  has  been  a  talk  of  breaking 
up  the  Maadonian,  but  this  has  been  sedu- 
lously opposed,  especially  by  naval  officers 
who,  as  cadets,  had  quarters  on  this  gnind 
old  ship. 

The  following  is  the  official  report  of 
the  conflict  taken  verbatim  from  the 
Admiralty  Records  : — 

U.  5.  Frigate  United  States, 

At  Sea,  October  asth,  iSia. 
To  John   Wilson  Croktr,  Esg., 

High  Lord  of  Admiralty. 

Sir, — It  is  with  the  deepest  regret  I  have 
to  acquaint  you,  for  the  information  of  my 
Lord's  Commission  of  Admiralty,  that  His 
Majesty's  late  ship  Afaetdonian  was  captured 
on  the  15th  instant  by  the  United  States  ship 
Uniltd  States t  Commodore  Decatur  com- 
mander.     The  details  are  as  follows  :^ 

A  short  time  after  daylight,  steering  N.W. 
by  W.,  with  the  wind  from  the  southward,  in 
latitude  29°  N.  and  longitude  i^y:>  W.,  In  the 
execution  of  Iheir  Lordships*  orders,  a  sail 
was  seen  on  the  lee  beam,  which  I  immediate- 
ly ;tood  for,  and  made  her  out  to  be  a  large 
frigate  under  American  colours.  At  nine 
o'clock  I  closed  with  her,  and  she  commenced 
the  action  which  we  retunied;  but  from  the  ene- 
my keeping  two  points  oflf  the  wind,  I  was  not 
enabled  to  get  as  close  to  her  as  I  would  have 
wished.  After  an  hour's  action,  the  enemy. 
backed  and  came  to  the  wind,  and  I  was  thus 
enabled  to  bring  her  to  close  battle.  In  tbis 
situation  I  soon  found  the  enemy's  force  too 
superior  to  expect  success  unless  some  very 
fortunate  chance  occurred  in  our  favour,  and 
with  this  hope  I  continued  the  battle  to  two 
hours  and  ten  minutes,  when,  having  the  mii- 
zen  mast  shot  away  by  the  board,  top-maats 
shot  away  by  the  caps,  main   yard  ahol  in 

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pieces,  lower  masts  badly  wounded,  lower 
rigging  all  cut  to  pieces,  a.  small  proportion 
only  of  the  fore-sail  left  to  the  fore-yard,  all 
the  guns  on  the  quarter-Jeck  and  forecastle 
disabled  but  two,  and  filled  with  wreck,  two 
also  on  the  main  deck  disabled,  and  several 
shot  between  wind  and  water,  a  very  great 
proportion  of  the  crew  Icilled  and  wounded, 
and  the  enemy  compamtivety  in  good  order, 
who  had  now  shot  ahead,  and  was  about  to 
place  himself  in  a  raking  position,  without 
being  enabled  lo  return  the  fire,  being  a  per- 
fect wreck  and  unmanageable  log,  1  deemed 
it  prudent,  though  a  painful  extremity,  to  sur- 
render His  Marty's  ship  -,  nor  was  this 
dreadful  alternative  resorted  to  till  every  hope 
of  success  was  removed,  even  beyond  the 
reach  of  chance ;  not  till,  I  trust  their  Lord- 
ships will  be  aware,  every  effort  had  been 
made  against  the  enemy  by  myself  and  my 
brave  officers  and  men,  nor  should  she  have 
been  surrendered  whilst  a  man  lived  on  board, 
had  she  been  manageable.  I  am  sorry  to  say 
our  loss  is  very  severe  ;  I  find  by  this  day's 
muster  thirty-six  killed,  three  of  whom  lin- 
gered a  short  time  alter  the  battle  ;  thirty-six 
severely  wounded,  many  of  whom  cannot  re- 
cover, and  thirty-two  slightly  wounded,  who 
may  all  do  well  ;  total,  one  hundred  and  four. 
The  true,  noble,  and  animating  conduct  of 
my  officers,  the  steady  bravery  of  my  crew 
to  the  last  moments  of  the  battle,  must  ever 
render  them  dear  to  their  country. 


My  first  lieutenant,  David  Hope,  was  severe- 
ly wounded  in  the  head,  toward  the  close  of 
the  battle,  and  taken  below,  but  was  soon 
again  on  deck,  displaying  that  greatness  of 
mind  and  exertion  which,  though  it  may  be 
equalled,  can  never  be  excelled.  The  third 
lieutenant,  John  Bulford,  was  also  wounded, 
but  not  obliged  to  quit  his  quarters.  Second 
Lieutenant  Samuel  Mottley  and  he  deserved 
my  highest  acknowledgment.  The  cool  and 
steady  conduct  of  Mr.  Walker,  the  master, 
was  very  great  during  the  battle,  as  also  that 
of  Lieutenants   Wilson   and    Magill,    of  the 

On  being  taken  on  board  the  enemy's  ship, 
I  ceased  to  wonder  at  the  result  of  the  battle. 
The  United  States  is  built  with  the  scantling  of 
a  seventy-four  gun  ship,  mounting  thirty  long 
twenty-four  pounders  (English  ship  guns)  on 
her  main  deck,  and  twenty- two  forty-two 
pounder  carronades,  with  two  long  twenty- 
four  pounders  on  her  quarter-deck  and  fore- 
castle, howitzer  guns  in  her  tops,  a  travelling 
carronade  on  her  upper  deck,  with  a  comple- 
ment of  four  hundred  and  seventy-eight  pick- 
ed men. 

The  enemy  has  suffered  much  in  masts, 
rigging  and  hull  above  and  below  water.  Her 
loBS  in  killed  and  wounded  I  am  not  aware  of, 
but  I  know  a  lieutenant  and  six  men  have 
been  thrown  overboard. 

(Signed)     John  S.  Garden, 

Post  Captain  S.N. 


l^EIGN  on,  majestic  Ville-Marie ! 

Spread  wide  thy  ample  robes  of  state  ; 
The  heralds  cry  that  thou  ai^  great. 
And  proud  are  thy  youii|^  sons  of  thee. 
Mistress  of  half  a  continent, 

Thou  risest  from  thy  girlhood's  rest ; 

We  see  thee  conscious  heave  thy  breast 
And  feel  thy  rank  and  thy  descent. 
Sprung  of  the  Saint  and  the  Chevalier, 

And  with  the  Scarlet  Tunic  wed  ! 

Mount  Royal's  crown  upon  thy  head  ; 
And  past  thy  footstool,  broad  and  clear, 
St.  Lawrence  sweeping  to  the  sea  : 
Reign  on,  majestic  Ville-Marie! 

—  William  Douw  Lightkall. 

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■^'■^  was  in  a  gay  mood  that  night. 
She  was  very  happy,  and  might  there- 
fore have  been  expected  to  be  kind. 
On  the  contrary,  with  a  woman's  title 
to  the  unexpected,  she  was  filled  for 
the  moment  with  a  kind  of  radiant 
malice  ;  an  impulse  to  be  delicately 
cruel  lurked  behind  the  tender  scarlet 
curve  of  her  lips,  and  the  wide  inno- 
cence of  her  bewildering  eyes  hid  very 
successfully  a  merciless  desire  to  wound 
the  two  men  who  hung  upon  her  words. 
Prom  time  to  time,  after  a  coquetry 
more  audacious  than  usual,  she  would 
glance  half-repentantly  at  the  closed 
door,  as  if  looking  for  yet  another 
visitor.  Her  mother,  Madame  de  La- 
lanne,  an  elderly  gentlewoman  of  Que* 
bee,  who  had  declined  into  a  rustic 
dulness  after  years  of  life  among  the 
good  country-folk  of  Acadia,  dozed 
over  her  knitting  beside  the  ample 

Mademoiselle  was  dressed  in  a  short- 
ish skirt  of  the  pattern  worn  by  the 
country  girls.  The  material,  however, 
was  not  of  the  coarse  wool  of  the.  dis- 
trict, but  a  heavy  homespun  linen 
bleached  to  the  tint  of  cream  ;  the 
bodice  was  of  the  same  stuff,  with 
sleeves  turned  back  at  the  elbows  to 
show  arms  that  were  slim  almost  to 
thinness,  but  milk-white  and  bewitch- 
iogly  moulded.  Over  her  shoulders 
was  thrown  carelessly  a  shawl  of  fine 
silk,  black,  but  no  blacker  than  the 
silken  hair  above  it.  On  her  small, 
slim  feet,  one  of  which  kept  restlessly 
tapping  the  floor,  she  wore  shoes  of 
fine  scarlet  leather.  These  little  shoes 
every  girl  in  Acadia  had  beard  of  and 

discussed  with  jealous  admiration  ;  but 
few  indeed,  even'  of  the  Grand  Pr^ 
maids,  had  seen  them,  for  the  De  La- 
lannes,  mindful  of  their  past  seigneu- 
rial  pride,  maintained  much  of  their 
aloofness  amid  their  changed  fortunes. 

Beautiful  as  was  her  ^e,  broad- 
browed,  finely  chiselled,  white  with  the 
warm  whiteness  of  ivory,  it  was  above 
all  her  eyes  that  made  Marie  de  La- 
lanne  the  wonder  of  all  Acadia.  When 
she  turned  their  dark  radiance  from 
time  to  time  full  upon  her  two  cavaliers, 
both  felt  their  hearts  jump  painfully, 
and  each  burned  with  a  fierce  impulse 
to  pitch  the  other  from  the  nearest 

This  tempting  window,  low  and 
broad,  looked  out  across  a  snowy  slope 
that  sparkled  under  the  full  moon.  At 
the  foot  of  the  slope,  visible  from  ma- 
demoiselle's chair,  a  close  hedge  of 
young  fir-trees  hid  the  channel  of  the 
Gaspereau  River.  A  sullen  grinding 
roar  from  the  flood-tide  achafe  among 
the  ice-cakes  was  heard  in  the  quiet 
room  whenever  the  light  talk  flagged. 
It  flagged  often,  as  moments  of  absent- 
mindedness  crossed  mademoiselle's 
whimsical  mood  ;  but  it  never  flagged 
for  long,  seeing  that  it  was  her  plea- 
sure to  be  gay  that  night.  The  white 
moonlight,  too,  came  in  through  the 
window  and  mixed  curiously  with  the 
leaping  red  firelight  and  the  pale  yel- 
low of  the  two  candles  that  stood  on 
the  brick  chimneypiece,  and  added  in- 
extricable complications  to  the  enig- 
matic lights  that  flamed  softly  from 
mademoiselle's  eyes. 

The  two  young  men  upon  whose 
passions  she  was  playing  so  recklessly 

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liad  come  to  Grand  Pr£  villag-e  that 
same  evening  from  opposite  directions. 
Both  had  made  all  haste  out  over  the 
hill  to  the  old  farmhouse  by  the  Gas- 
pereau.  Captain  Barras,  journeying' 
on  snow-shoes  from  the  French  post  at 
Chignecto,  had  arrived  first,  flushed 
with  elation  at  finding  mademoiselle 
alone — for  Madame  de  Lalanne  was 
ever  too  sunk  in  old  dreams  to  count 
as  a  personality.  Scarcely  had  he 
bowed  his  devoirs  over  the  little  rest- 
less white  hand  which  mademoiselle 
was  wont  to  use  as  mercilessly  as  her 
eyes,  when  there  came  from  the  hunt- 
ing-fields behind  La  H£ve  the  spare, 
sombre-suited,  silent  figure  of  Jean 
Michel  Landry  de  Latour,  the  proud 
and  impoverished  descendant  of  the  De 
Latours  of  Port  Royal  and  St.  John. 

Now,  on  the  coming  of  Captain 
Barras,  mademoiselle  had  not  been 
over-gracious.  She  had  been  merely 
ennuyie.  It  was  when  De  Latour  ar- 
rived that  the  caprice  of  gaiety  had 
seized  upon  her.  What  were  these 
uaencouraged  suitors  for,  indeed,  if  not 
to  furnish  amusement  through  the  hour 
of  waiting  before  her  ?  On  the  instant 
she  was  all  gracious. 

"  I  trust  your  absence  from  Grand 
Pri  has  not  seemed  so  long  to  you  as 
'it  has  to  us,  monsieur  !  "  she  murmur- 
ed, as  De  Latour  kissed  her  finger-tips 
and  shot  a  glance  of  dark  disdain  at 

The  captain's  mouth  grew  dry  sud- 
denly, as  he  perceived  in  this  changed 
demeanour  of  his  hostess  an  explana- 
tion of  the  chill  civility  which  had 
greeted  his  own  arrival.  But  in  the 
next  moment  those  resistless  eyes 
flashed  upon  him  something  that  thril- 
led like  a  caress  ;  and  straightway 
remembering  all  that  he  was  and  his 
rival  was  not — rich,  handsome,  and  in 
high  favour  with  the  Governor  at  Que- 
"  bee — he  returned  the  new-comer's 
glance  with  interest. 

When  mademoiselle  presented  the 
two,  De  Latour's  curt  formality  was  a 
veiled  declaration  of  war,  while  the 
elaborate  courtesy  of  Barras  was  an 
exquisite  insolence.  And  mademoi- 
selle was  sinfully  delighted. 

The  demeanour  of  the  two  men  con- 
trasted sharply.  Barras,  not  long  from 
the  revels  and  lightness  of  Quebec, 
hung  boldly  on  mademoi-selle's  glances, 
and  his  vanity  was  facile  game  to  her. 
He  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  her 
face,  except  to  dart  an  occasional 
look  of  supercilious  impatience  at  the 
intruder  who,  as  he  now  felt  convinced, 
alone  stood  in  the  way  of  his  conquest. 
De  Latour,  on  the  other  hand,  while 
ever  seeking  the  glances  which  en- 
thralled htm,  seemed  ever  unable  to 
endure  their  light.  Whenever  he  en- 
countered them  he  would  drop  his  own 
eyes — and  quietly  fearless  eyes  they 
were  in  the  customary  matters  of  battle 
and  peri! — from  the  too  dazzling  bril- 
liancy of  her  face  to  the  daintiness  of 
her  scarlet  shoes.  He  seldom  troubled 
to  look  at  his  rival  ;  but  his  reserve 
managed  somehow  to  express  quite 
unmeasured  depths  of  contempt.  He 
spoke  little,  even  to  mademoiselle,  but 
that  little  always  had  point.  The  bur- 
den of  the  conversation  was  borne  by 
Barras,  who  had  a  flow  of  glittering 
compliment  at  command.  Mademoi- 
selle de  Lalanne  had  but  to  direct  the 
game,  now  with  deft  turn  of  phrase, 
now  with  a  smile,  now  with  a  swift 
look  ;  and  with  such  wicked  nicety  of 
skill  did  she  direct  it  that  within  the 
half-hour  the  air  of  that  peaceful  cham- 
ber seemed  full  of  swords.  At  this 
point,  however,  she  kept  things  under 
curb,  so  that  neither  man  dared  in  the 
least  degree  ruffle  the  shining  surface 
of  civility  which  she  had  spread  be- 
tween them.  Madame  de  Lalanne 
sank  so  deep  into  her  dreams  that  her 
knitting  fell  unheeded  to  the  floor,  and 
was  seized  upon  by  a  gratified  black 
kitten.  One  of  the  candles  on  the 
chimneypiece  guttered  spitefully  and 
went  out.  The  ghostly  patch  of  moon- 
light moved  across  the  floor  till  it 
touched  and  paled  the  scarlet  of  made- 
moiselle's shoes.  Then,  on  a  sudden, 
just  as  she  opened  her  lips  for  some 
sally  more  sweetly  envenomed  than 
any  that  had  gone  before,  the  f^nt 
sound  of  a  footstep  in  another  part  of 
the  house  caught  her  ear.  No  one  else 
heard  it ;    but    it    was    what  she  was 




waiting  for.  Her  face  softened,  and 
she  sprang  up. 

"  Excuse  me,  messieurs,"  she  said 
hastily  ;  "I  have  forgotten  something." 
And  in  a  breath  she  was  gone,  closing 
the  door  behind  her,  and  leaving  the 
two  men  to  stand  with  blank  faces 
staring  after  her. 

So  they  stood  for  a  moment,  then 
turned  to  each  other.  De  Latour 
spoke  first. 

"  Your  society  is  distasteful  to  me, 
Captain  Barras  !  "  said  he  coldly. 

"  I  can  quite  imagine  it,  monsieur !  " 
murmured  Barras,  with  the  most  cour- 
teous  intonation.  "Different,  1  sup- 
pose, from  that  to  which  you  are 
accustomed  I " 

De  Latour  smiled  grimly.  Mere 
verbal  repartee  seemed  to  him  little 
worth  while  when  the  retort  of  the 
sword  was  in  question. 

"Nevertheless,"  said  he,  "1  could 
tolerate  it  for  a  short  time  under  other 
conditions.  Behind  yonder  fir-trees 
there  is  a  level  space  by  the  side  of  the 
water,  where  the  moon  shines  clearly. 
I  could  meet  you  there  with  pleasure, 
so  it  be  at  once,  monsieur  !  " 

Barras's  bold  eyes  flashed.  This 
was  just  what  he  wanted.  Yet,  for 
the  mere  insolence  of  it,  he  affected  to 

"Your  appearance  is  against  you, 
monsieur,"  he  drawled;  "but— yes, 
you  are  received  by  Mademoiselle  de 
Lalanne,  and  therefore  I  may  without 
dishonour  cross  swords  with  you.  His 
Excellency  would  understand,  I  am 
sure."  Suddenly  dropping  his  fine 
manners,  he  went  out  brusquely,  leav- 
ing De  Latour  to  follow.  But  the  iron 
face  of  the  wood-ranger  (for  such  he 
was)  was  untroubled  by  the  insult. 
He  felt  only  compassion  tor  the  ignor- 
ance of  a  Canadian  who  knew  not  the 
precedence  of  the  De  Latours. 

The  two  strode  in  silence,  side  by 
side,  down  the  crispy  glittering  slope, 
their  distorted  black  shadows  dancing 
grotesquely  behind  them.  When  they 
were  within  about  a  hundred  paces  of 
the  fir-grove  Mademoiselle  de  Lalanne 
returned  to  the  room  they  had  so 
hastily  forsaken.     Her  face  was  now 

more  softly  radiant,  and  the  laughing' 
malice  had  died  out  of  her  eyes.  Close 
at  her  skirts  came  a  tall,  fair-haired, 
ruddy-featured  man,  with  "English" 
written  large  all  over  him.  His  eyes 
rested  for  a  moment  on  madame's 
slumbering  form  in  her  big  chair,  then 
swept  the  empty  spaces  quizzically. 

"  Your  fine  birds  have  flown,  sweet- 
heart!" he  exclaimed,  with  a  boyish 

Mademoiselle  was  at  the  window  in 
time  to  note  the  direction  of  their  flight. 
At  a  glance  she  understood  the  immi- 
nent results  of  her  coquetry.  Pale 
with  sudden  fear,  she  turned  and 
clutched  her  companion's  arm. 

"Oh  Jack!"  she  cried,  "they  have 
gone  away  to  fight.  Quick !  quick ! 
stop  them!" 

The  Englishman  laughed  again — 
but  very  softly,  so  as  not  to  waken 
madame — and  looked  down  into  her 
face.  He  was  thinking  of  her  eyes,  of 
her  lips  ;  and  he  only  half-heard  her 

"Stop  what?"  he  asked,  stooping 
with  a  swift  movement  to  kiss  her. 
But  she  sprang  back,  angry  and 

"Stop  them,  I  say,  Jack.  They  are 
going  to  fight,  and  perhaps  they'll  kill 
each  other;  and  it's  all  my  fault.  I've 
been  very  wicked.  Oh!  I'll  go  my- 
self;" and  she  darted  out  of  the  room. 

At  this  he  awoke.  He  caught  her 
before  she  was  out  of  the  house,  and 
clutched  her  firmly. 

"  It's  an  awkward  thing,  sweet," 
said  he,  "to  interfere  between  two  in- 
dignant gentlemen  who  have  a  right  to 
disagree  in  their  own  way.  But  if  you 
say  so,  I'll  do  it.  What  shall  t  say  to 
them  ?     How  is  it  your  fault?" 

"Oh,  stupid!  can't  you  see  how 
wicked  I've  been  ?  I've  made  them 
both  think  I  cared  for  them;  I've  made 
them  furiously  jealous  !  I  was  so  tired 
waiting  for  you  to  come !  And  now  if 
they're  killed  I'll  never  speak  to  you 

Jack  Moleby's  face  broke  into  a  gnn 
of  delighted  comprehension. 

"Wretch,"  he  retorted,  "I  go!" 
and  made  off  down  the  snow  with  long 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



strides.  Throwing'  a  hooded  cloak 
about  her  and  thrusting  her  feet,  red 
shoes  and  all,  into  a  pair  of  white  fur- 
lined  moccasins,  mademoiselle  sped 
after  him. 

The  winter  air  was  crisp  and  clear, 
and  with  a  fine  frosty  sting'  in  it.  There 
was  no  wind  whatever.  There  was  no 
sound  but  the  g;nnding  of  the  tide 
among:  the  ice-cakes.  The  lig:ht  was 
almost  like  full  day  in  the  little  white 
glade  where  the  two  Frenchmen  faced 
each  other  with  swords  at  the  salute. 
The  next  moment  the  sibilant  whisper 
of  th^  steel  beg'an,  deadly  in  its  soft 
reserve ;  and  the  easy  superciliousness 
of  the  smile  on  Barras's  lips  changed 
to  a  look  as  stern  as  his  adversary's  as 
he  felt  the  dangerous  competence  of 
the  wHst  opposed  to  him. 

The  two  fought  in  their  vests,  their 
coats  lyiog  upon  the  snow  near  by.  In 
skill  they  appeared  to  be  well  matched ; 
and  De  Latour,  who  had  never  before 
met  any  one  at  all  his  equal  in  fence, 
began  to  conceive  an  unwilling  respect 
for  the  coxcomb  captain.  In  fact,  he 
had  just,  by  the  merest  hair-breadth, 
escaped  a  scratch ;  when,  from  the 
edge  of  the  grove,  a  voice  of  sharp 
authority  rang  out  "  Halt!"  and  Cap- 
tain Jack's  tall  figure  appeared  sudden- 
ly beside  them. 

With  instant  and  instinctive  obedi- 
ence both  men  sprang  back  and 
dropped  their  points;  then,  in  the 
next  second,  both  turned  indignantly 
upon  the  intruder. 

"  Who  are  you,  sir?"  demanded  De 
Latour  curtly, 

"And  by  what  right,  if  I  may  ask, 
do  you  interfere  in  our  pastime?" 
inquired  B arras. 

CaptfUD  Jack  who  was  more  embar- 
rassed than  he  would  have  cared  to 
show,  chose  to  answer  the  latter 

"By  no  right,  gentlemen,"  he  re- 
plied heartily ;  "and  I  beg  to  apologise 
in  the  fullest  manner  I  know,  too.  I 
owe  you  satisfaction  for  my  abruptness, 
and  of  course  I  am  quite  ready  to 
afford  it  to  you  both  if  you  demand  it. 
But  I  beg  you  rather  to  accept  my 

"We  can  discuss  that  later  on," 
said  De  Latour  in  tones  of  ice;  "and 
meanwhile.  Captain  Barras,  with  your 
consent,  we  will  resume." 

But  before  the  blades  could  cross 
again  the  Englishman  steped  forward 
sharply,  his  own  sword  half-drawn. 

"Really,  gentlemen,"  he  began,  in  a 
voice  of  mastery,  "I  must  insist  that 
you  stop  fighting.  No  more  of  it,  I 
say!"  and  his  blood  began  to  get  hot. 
Then  he  remembered  that  he  would 
certainly  not  be  fulfilling  Marie's  wishes 
if  he  should  himself  kill  one,  or  per- 
haps both,  of  these  impetuous  and  in- 
fatuated Frenchmen  ;  and  the  thought 
gave  him  pause.  He  considered  the 
situation  very  awkward  altogether. 

Both  men  faced  him.  "This  is 
astonishing,  truly,"  exclaimed  Barras, 
with  a  biting  sneer.  "I  think  we  had 
better  have  an  explanation  before  we 
go  on  with  our  own  affair." 

But  now  Jack  Moleby  had  an  inspir- 
ation. He  would  try  diplomacy.  Re- 
placing his  sword,  and  relapsing  into 
his  customary  large  good-humour,  he 
smiled  genially  upon  the  scowling  faces. 

"You  see,  gentlemen,  I  hated  to 
disturb  you,  but  I  had  to  do  as  I  was 
commanded.  Mademoiselle  de  La- 
lanne  sent  me  with  positive  orders  to 
stop  the  fight  at  any  cost.  In  my 
stupidity  I  thought  I  might  have  to 
fight  you  both,  in  order  to  obey  her. 
But  I  should  have  known,  as  soon  as  I 
saw  the  courtly  gentlemen  you  were, 
that  my  effective  weapon  would  be  the 
expression  of  her  wishes.  She  simply 
implores  you,  if  her  happiness  is  of  any 
concern  to  you,  that  you  will  do  each 
other  no  injury.  She  beseeches  you  to 
promise  that  you  will  put  your  quarrel, 
whatever  it  may  be,  for  ever  by  ;  with- 
out which  promise  she  declares  that 
she  will  live  in  ceaseless  anxiety.  I 
think,  gentlemen,  from  my  observation 
of  her  solicitude  in  this  matter,  that 
one  or  the  other  of  you  must  be 
honoured  by  a  very  distinguished  place 
in  her  regard." 

Each,  on  hearing  these  sagacious 
words,  conceived  himself  to  be  the  one 
so  honoured.  Into  De  Latour's  cold 
eyes  came  a  gleam  of  elation. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



"  Mademoiselle  de  Lalanne's  wishes 
are  a  command,  monsieur,"  said  he, 
sheathing:  his  sword.  "1  need  no 
apology  from  you  for  having  obeyed 
them.  Rather  should  I  wish  to  hold 
you  to  account  had  you  failed  to  fulfill 
them  to  the  letter." 

"1  thank  you,  monsieur,  with  all  my 
heart,"  replied  Captain  Jack,  bowing, 
and  biting  back  a  smile.  "And  you, 
monsieur,"  he  went  on,  turning  to 
Barras,  "have  I  grace  from  you  also 
for  my  somewhat  blundering  zeal?" 

Barras's  face,  no  longer  that  of  the 
fearless  and  inexorable  swordsman, 
wore  now  a  simper  of  pleased  vanity.. 
The  coxcomb  was  back. 

"Mademoiselle's  wishes  are  my 
law,"  said  he,  bowing  elaborately; 
"and  he  who  carries  them  out  is  my 

With  another  ceremony  to  De 
Latour  he  slipped  his  sword  back  into 
its  place,  as  if  to  say,  "Let  there  be 
peace  between  us." 

At  this  moment  mademoiselle  came 
tripping  from  the  grove,  the  hood  of 
her  cloak  half-fallen  back  from  her  hair. 
She  came  up  to  the  Englishman's  side, 
and  laid  her  hand  lightly  on  his  arm. 
Upon  the  two  swordsmen  she  turned  a 
smile  of  subjugating  sweetness. 

"With  all  my  heart  I  thank  you, 
gentlemen,"  she  said,  "for  your  graci- 

ous courtesy  in  yielding  to  my  wishes. 
Let  us  go  back  to  the  house,  and  I  will 
ask  you  to  take  a  glass  of  wine  with 
with  me  to  the  long  continuance  oF 
friendship  between  two  such  gallant 
gentlemen  as  1  well  know  you  to  be." 

Both  men  stood  bovi^ng,  each  with 
his  hand  on  his  heart,  and  each  boiling 
inwardly  at  sight  of  those  small  fingers 
on  the  Englishman's  sleeve.  There 
was  a  brief  pause,  during  which  ma- 
demoiselle flushed  faintly  and  her  eye- 
lids fluttered  down.  Then  she  went  on 
steadily : 

"And  let  me  present  to  you,  Captain 
Barras,  and  to  you,  Monsieur  De 
Latour,  my  dear  friend  Captain  Mole- 
by,  of  the  English  garrison  at  Halifax. 
It  is  my  prayer,  gentlemen,  that  when 
your  flag  and  his  are  again  at  war,  as- 
is  like  to  be  soon,  he  may  not  find  such 
swords  as  yours  opposed  him,  for  he  is 
my  betrothed.  I  commend  him  to  your 
kind  goodwill." 

The  two  Frenchmen  met  each  other's 
eyes  with  a  glance  of  mutual  compre- 
hension, murmured  some  inarticulate 
compliments,  and  hid  their  discomfit u re- 
in the  final  bitterness  of  permitting 
Captain  Jack  to  help  them  on  with 
their  coats. 

It  was  one  of  the  triumphs  of  Cap- 
tain Jack  Moleby's  career  that  he  did 
not  smile. 



I  PICKED  him  up  one  dismal  Novem- 
ber night,  when  1  was  taking  one 
of  my  usual  aimless  tramps  through 
the  poorer  districts  of  the  great  city. 
A  poor  little  morsel  of  a  chap,  he 
looked  up  appealingly  into  my  face 
as  1  stepped  into  the  miserable  alley- 
way where  he  sat  trembling  with  cold 
and  uncertainty.  As  1  looked  down 
upon  the  wretched,'  ill-clad  figure,  the 
vision  of  another  wee  lad  rose  before 
me — a  tattered,  barefoot  boy,  tramping 
sturdily  over  miles  of  dusty,  country 
road,  with  the  lights  of  the  city  gleam- 

ing like  a  beacon  in  the  darkness  of  the 
falling  night. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  this  tiny  lad 
reminded  me  of  myself,  years  ago,  that 
my  heart  warmed  towards  him.  I  do 
not  know.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  I  took 
his  hand  in  mine  and  led  him  out  of  the 
darkness  of  the  noisome  place  into  the 
bright  street — into  the  glow  of  the 
lamps- — into  the  swiftly  moving  car, 
and  finally,  home.  And  a  wee,  patter- 
ing dog  that  had  shrunk,  whimpering, 
at  bis  feet,  followed  us. 

My  landlady  shrank  back  in  horror 


at  the  sight  of  my  charge,  but  a  few 
nrords  from  me  sent  her,  grumbling 
slightly,  but  readily  withal,  to  the  pre- 
paration of  a  meal ;  aod  as  the  tired 
outcast  despatched  it  I  sat  and  watched 
him,  musingly. 

A  bath  was  next  in  order,  and  a 
change  of  raiment,  the  latter  being  un- 
earthed from  some  old  belongings  of 
my  landlady's  sons.  He  went  into  the 
bath  a  dirty  street  arab.  He  came  out 
of  it  a  sweet,  pale-faced  boy — some- 
body's son.  His  eyes  were  blue  as  the 
sky,  and  his  curling  hair  swept  a  fore- 
head marvellously  white. 

He  did  not  know  his  own  name,  but 
the  boys  called  him  "  Chuckie."  He 
was  most  nine,  he  said,  and  he  had  al- 
ways lived  in  the  streets  and  alley- 
ways. He  sold  papers  sometimes,  but 
the  boys  often  stole  them  from  him  be- 
cause he  was  a  weak  little  fellow  and 
could  not  defend  himself.  When  1 
Spied  him  out  he  had  crept  into 
his  dark  corner  to  spend  the  night, 
supperless.  He  remembered  someone 
singing  to  him,  long,  long  ago,  some- 
one dressed  in  white,  he  said,  like  the 
lay  figures  in  the  big  stores. 

All  this  he  told  me,  and  then  his 
head  began  to  droop,  and  my  landlady, 
softened  now,  picked  him  up  in  her 
arms,  good  soul  that  she  was,  and 
carried  him  upstairs  to  bed. 

Long  after,  I  sat  by  the  fire,  ponder- 
iog  deeply,  so  that  my  pipe  went  out 
several  limes.  Across  the  street  there 
were  lights  in  the  basement  of  a  church, 
and  I  heard  the  roll  of  the  organ,  and 
the  softer  notes  of  women's  voices.  It 
was  a  missionary  meeting,  and  they 
were  sending  men  and  women  to  far- 
away lands,  to  feed,  clothe  and  edu- 
cate thebenightedheathen.  And  here 
in  their  midst  were  children  of  their 
own  race,  unheeded,  unfed  and  un- 
clothed, scouring  the  streets  for  bread 
and  sleeping  nightly  in  foul  and  nox- 
ious dens.  But  the  organ  pealed  still, 
and  the  soft  voices  of  the  singers  rolled 
out  upon  the  night : 

"  God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again." 

For  many  days  Chickie,  as  I  now 
called  him,    was  ill,  but  gradually  he 

•K/E  79. 

picked  up,  though  a  hacking  cough 
still  clung  to  him.  It  was  difficult  to 
break  up  his  old  habits.  The  vocabu- 
lary of  the  streets  still  clung  to  him, 
and  often  he  would  startle  my  landlady 
with  an  outburst  of  slang  phrases. 
Finally,  however,  I  weaned  him  from 
this,  and  slowly  and  carefully  I  mould- 
ed his  untutored  mind.  I  taught  him  to 
read,  so  that  he  could  enjoy  simple 
books,  and  he  would  pore  over  them 
for  hours.  But  his  great  delight  was 
to  listen  to  my  story-telling,  and  he 
would  sit  by  my  side  entranced  while  1 
related  to  him  stories  I  had  read  in  my 
younger  days.  I  also  read  stories  to 
him  out  of  the  Holy  Book,  and  he  was 
particularly  interested  in  David  and 
Goliath.  When  1  had  exhausted  all 
my  stock  of  memorized  tales  he  would 
say,  "  Now  read  to  me  about  Col- 

And  then,  as  the  months  rolled  by, 
what  rambles  we  had  in  the  country, 
where  t  took  him  for  a  long  visit ! 
Hour  after  hour  he  would  follow  me 
about  the  fields,  always  plodding  stead- 
ily by  my  side,  listening  to  my  stories^ 
about  the  birds,  and  watching  with 
eager  interest,  as  I  whipped  the  brook 
for  speckled  trout.  And  then  as  the 
shadows  began  to  fall,  he  would  take 
my  band  and  walk  home  silently,  sit- 
ting by  my  side  afterwards  to  watch 
the  yellow  moon  rise  over  the  hills. 

But  ah  I  that  hacking  cough  that 
never  left  him.  As  the  weeks  rolled 
along  he  grew  gradually  weaker  and 
could  no  longer  follow  me  ;  so  I  re- 
mained in  the  house  with  him,  reading 
to  him,  and  amusing  him  in  various 

One  night  towards  the  close  of  sum- 
mer I  sat  beside  his  bed  in  his  own 
little  room.  The  window  was  open, 
so  that  the  moonlight  flooded  the  room 
and  lit  up  his  pale  countenance.  He 
slipped  his  hand  into  mine,  and  lay  for 
a  long  time  silent. 

"You  have  been  very  good  to  me," 
he  exclaimed  suddenly,  "no  one  was 
ever  good  to  me  before."  Then  th& 
grasp  of  the  boy's  hand  tightened  and 
relaxed.  But  I  sat  far  into  the  night, 
sUlt  holding  the  little  hand. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


By  N.  Percy  Chambers. 

THERE  is  a  time,  a  Paradisiacal 
time,  when  yearly,  in  spite  of 
sin  actual  and  original,  some  favoured 
ones  are  allowed  a  fore-gleam  of  the 
splendour,  aod  a  fore-taste  of  the  hap* 
piness  of  the  beatified.  Wheo  the 
sombre,  straight-laced  old  world  puts 
on  a  special  livery  of  scarlet  and  gold, 
the  King's  livery,  relieved  here  and 
there  by  a  bit  of  melting  blue,  and, 
cackling  in  sunny  glee,  stands  ready  to 
serve  health  and  joy  to  well-condition- 
ed and  properly  constituted  men. 
When  the  plaintive  call  of  the  plover 
and  the  snipe  plead  with  the  happily- 
favoured  mortal,  beting  him  to  re- 
member that  out  of  the  blue  of  heaven 
or  of  the  water,  doth  come  fowl  fair 
to  the  eye  and  to  the  taste,  while  the 
gallant  buck  pivots  his  inquisitive  ear 
to  catch  the  grumbling  chatter  of  the 
ruffled  grouse,  who  is  sure  that  some 
naughty  creature  is  going  to  make  per- 
sonal observation  of  her  housekeeping 
arrangements.  Then  does  the  sensible 
mortal  heed  nature's  "  carpe  diem," 
and  accepting  her  invitation,  bring  his 
things  and  stay  a  week  or  a  month  in 
her  hospitable  quarters.  And  it  is  then 
he  becomes  seized  of  the  wisdom  of 
the  city  men  of  Ephesus,  whose  tutel- 
ary deity,  Diana,  the  huntress,  was 
also  "  the  personification  of  the  fructi- 
fying and  all  nourishing  powers  of  na- 
ture. " 

Where   is  the  poet   of  robust  dar- 

ing a  private  gallery  of  perfect  pic- 
tures, originals  every  one,  there, 
whither  the  jaded  or  anxious  mind  can 
turn  during  the  dark  days,  and  draw 
reminiscent  draughts  of  splendid  hap- 
piness from  the  contemplation. 

It  does  not  really  matter  much  what 
excuse  you  take,  so  long  as  you  do  get 
out  into  nature's  gaudily-decorated 
resting-place.  Some  make  deer  their 
objectives,  others  put  their  trust  in 
partridges  and  number  eight  cart- 
ridges, others  take  heavier  ammuni- 
tion and  shaggy  dogs,  and  lie  in  wait 
for  ducks,  or  Canada  brant.  I  prefer 
change,  variety,  and  believe  in  the 
tent  pitched  on  the  bright  green,  be- 
tokening a  nearby  spring,  and  close 
beside  a  clear,  blue  lake,  fringed  with 
[^usset  and  gold  and  scarlet.  There 
while  my  chef  prepares  the  bullion  for 
dinner,  from  the  spoils  of  the  journey 
hitherward,  will  I  launch  my  bark 
canoe  and  wile  away  the  waiting  hours 
in  seducing  the  spotted  beauties  of  the 
deep  to  get  themselves  ready  for  break- 
fast, a  Greener  at  hand  in  case  some 
blundering  black  duck  should  more  suo 
prematurelydisturb  the  afternoon  calm. 
And  then  when  done  is  your  watch  be- 
side the  promising  run-way,  or  the 
race  after  your  part  ridge- setter  ;  or 
your  respects  paid  to  the  incoming 
ducks — then  the  blazing  fire,  the  pipe 
of  peace,  the  teaspoonful  of  something 
to  keep  out  the  cold,  and  the  crowning 

ing     who     "  recudans    sub     tegmiite     luxury  of  rest  in  your  only  perfect  bed, 

fagi,"  if  he  will,  shall  preserve 
sounding  verse  the  glory  of  the  revela- 
tion the  sylvan  muse  the  Autumn 
Northland  proffers  of  a  beauty-lov- 
ing Father  of  Joyfulness?  Or,  who 
having  felt  the  charm  will  not  lend  a 
hand  to  induce  some  office-ground, 
city  slave  to  stop  that  everlasting 
courting  of  pelf,  and  get  that  wood- 
land apocalypse  into  his  own  soul. 
And,  oh  I  the  blessed  comfort  of  hav- 

ith  feathers  a  foot  or  two  deep,  pluck- 
ed from  an  attendant  hemlock  tree. 
Just  such  a  bed,  believe  me,  the  laugh- 
ing wood  nymphs  prepared  for  the 
ruddy  Pomona  in  the  olden  time,  when 
stout  old  Sylvanus  did  his  company- 
keeping.  Talk  about  sinking  into  the 
arms  of  Morpheus,  the  man  never 
tried  a  bed  of  hemlock  boughs  after  a 
good  day's  sport,  who  invented  the 
phrase.     Atra  cura  may  perch  along- 

□  igitizedbyGoOglc 



side  if  she  will,  the  Father  of  Lies  him- 
self croaic  at  your  ears  all  □ig'ht,  the 
Decromancy  of  the  hemlock  will  trans- 
mute them  into  lullaby  sprites,  and 
you  will  rise  early  in  the  moruingf,  free 
from  haunting  anxiety,  with  clear  brain, 
and  good  appetite. 

Take  your  map  and  hunt  for  such  lake 
names  as  Pemichon^o,  De-Rat,  Dan- 
ford,  Thirty-one  Mile,  etc.,  in  the 
north  land  heyond  Ottawa,  and  you 
find  the  district  I  mean.  What  mem- 
ories the  names  awaken  I  What  hor- 
rors two  of  us  "  greenies  "  suffered  on 
our  first  expedition,  when  we  waited  in 
the  thick  darkness  for  the  oenrer  ap- 
proach of  a  deep- breathing  creature, 
evidently  smelling  us  out,  until  the 
damp  nose  of  a  cow  protruded  itself 
into  the  tent.  And  we  found  next  day 
that  we  had,  after  six  hours'  tramp, 
made  our  bed  within  ten  acres  of  our 
temporary  boarding-house.  I  some- 
times chuckle  now  over  the  funk  in 
which  I  awoke  one  fine  night  to  find 
the  wrinkled  old  face  of  an  Indian  hag 
who  had  searched  my  belongings,  and 
was  now  searching  my  person  for 
some  more  of  the  Pain-killer,  indis- 
creetly administered  to  her  the  pre- 
vious day,  when  we  met  thirty  miles 
away  from  that  resting-place.  And  I 
remember  being  misled  by  the  beauty 
of  a  moonlight  July  night  in  Septem- 
ber, into  sleeping  on  my  blanket  in  the 
open,  and  being  awakened  by  a  snif- 
fling, to  find  a  pleasant-looking  young 
black  bear  watching  by  my  side.  How 
gaily  he  sailed  away  after  our  mutual 
surveys.  I  am  thankful  to  this  day 
that  I  did  not  hurt  him,  and  glad, 
too,  that  he  didn't  hurt  me. 

Does  little  Ben,  I  wonder,  amid  the 
excitement  ol  his  gold  hunting,  re- 
member that  glorious  morning  when 
Mac's  bark  awoke  us  announcing  that 
he  had  treed  half  a  dozen  partridges 
right  above  our  tent  ridge  ?    Or,   that 

early  morning  when  Beaudouin  drew 
aside  the  curtained  door  to  announce 
that  he  had  lost  the  flour  at  some  port- 
age,  and  that  salt  and  sugar  had  "got 
hisself  run  all  to  water?"  We  were 
three  days  from  a  house  then  I  remem- 
ber. There  is  quite  a  tribe  of  tent- 
dwellers  in  this  very  house.  Curious 
folk  with  quaint  recollections  of  wood- 
land and  lake,  gravely  produced  at  the 
dining  room,  bedtime,  and  occasionally 
at  the  lesson  hour.  Envious  I  find 
are  these  people  of  the  old  patriarchs, 
whose  lives  were  continuous  rounds  of 
holidays  spent  in  camping  out,  but 
withal  somewhat  pitiful  too  of  the  lot 
who  had  to  be  content  with  but  one 
tree  to  camp  beside,  and  no  hemlock 
for  their  beds.  Between  us  we  man- 
aged to  inveigle  the  deputy  head  of  the 
household  into  an  expedition  with  us, 
one  season.  That  high  and  mighty 
person,  I  regret  to  say,  deliberately 
sniffed  at  our  bed-making,  and  an- 
nounced as  she  wrapped  the  blankets 
around  her  "this  is  the  first  time  t 
ever  tried  to  sleep  on  tree  bristles,  and 
it  will  be  the  last."  And  just  as  we 
expected  she  remained  on  with  us,  with 
constantly  increasing  content  for  thirty 
nights,  and  has  become  one  of  the 
hemlock-loving  fraternity  herself  now. 
But  1  cannot  forget  that  not  a  single 
deer  fell  to  my  gun  last  season,  that  I 
did  not  always  fire  in  time  at  the  swir- 
ling ducks,  and  that  the  Doctor  hints 
that  still  fishing  is  very  fair  sport,  and 
wonders  I  don't  take  to  it.  And  Mac 
is  dead,  and  Ben  has  become  a  grown 
man  and  is  athirst  for  gold,  and  Joe 
Beaudouin  has  a  dozen  half-breed  child- 
ren to  cater  for,  and  as  1  think  of  the 
land  where  the  streets  are  avenues  of 
trees,  I  notice  with  gladness  that  so 
far  as  I  can  see  that  land  of  the  setting 
sun  is  a  place  of  perpetual  scarlet  and 

Digitized  by  Google 

RENT  Events  Abr^ 

by    W.  S&nford   Evxuis 

LORD  ROBERTS  is  as  fearless  io     the  substantial  public  grounds  for  their 
his  dealiiig;s  with  his  supporters     action, 
as  io  his  dealings  with  his  foes.      For 

a  man  of  his  natural  Iciadliness  it  re- 
quired more  courage  to  write  his  com. 
ments  on  the  despatches  of  Generals 
Buller,  Warren,  and  Gatacre,  and  to 
condemn  by  s" 
Lord  Methuen, 

dard  and  win  the  Victoria  Cross, 
is  positively  bracing  to  see  that  a  man 
can  be  thus  uncompromising  when  a 
duty  is  recognized.  With  the  official 
despatches  before  us  and  Lord  Robert's 
judgment  upon  them  there  is  ample 
justification  for  even  stronger  language 

One  interesting  effect  of  Lord  Rob- 
erts' unsparing,  though  dispassionate, 
censures  will  be  to  break  down  what- 
ever hesitation  there  was  on  the  part 

the    despatch    of     of  the  public  to  criticize  and  condemn. 

to  rescue  a  stan-  If  three  or  four  prominent  generals 
can  blunder,  so  can  others.  Perhaps 
Lord  Roberts  himself  can  blunder. 
Perhaps  he  has  already  blundered,  or 
why  a  month's  inaction  just  when  there 
was  the  opportunity,  by  a  few  s^ft, 
hard,  blows,  to  end  all  formidable  re- 
sistance ?     Lord  Roberts  performed  a 

than  has  been    used    before    in    these  great  service  to  his  country  by  judging 

columns  with  regard  to  the  conduct  of  others,  but  he  must  expect  now  to  be 

the  early  part  of  the  war.      The  action  himself  judged.      Is  there  good  reason 

of  the  War  Office  in  publishing  this  to  question  his  capacity  on  the  ground 

official    correspondence    at    a    critical  of  his  unpreparedness  to  take  advant- 

stage  of  the  war  has  been  criticized, 
but  it  was,  I  am  convinced,  dictated  by 
sound  policy.  If  it  had  been  held  back 
until  the  conclusion  of  the  war  the 
effect  would  have  been  almost  wholly 
tost.  As  it  is,  the  British  people  have 
been  shocked  by  it  into  the  proper  tern 
per  of  mind  to  insist  on  reforms  ;  the 
British  generals  have  been  thoroughly 
awakened  to  the  fact  that  no  army  red- 
tapeism  can  save  them  if  they  display 
incompetence  ;  and  the  foreign  world, 
which  had  already  formed  its  opinion 
of  the  average  British  general,  instead 
of  being  adversely  impressed,  will  be 
inspired  with  a  fresh  respect  for  the 
exceptional  British  general  and  for  the 
people  that  can,  without  fear  of  conse- 

age  of  the  disorganized  and  disheart- 
ened condition  of  the  Boers  ?  He  was 
certainly  unready  to  push  forward  from 
Bloemfontein,  and  the  delay  gave  the 
Boers  a  chance  to  regain  their  spirit, 
make  new  dispositions  of  their  forces, 
obtain  one  or  two  minor  successes  and 
win  back  to  their  ranks  many  who  had 
laid  down  their  arms.  Is  it  a  valid 
excuse  to  say  that  he  could  not  obtain 
horses  or  supplies  ?  Should  not  a 
commander  provide  beforehand  for 
every  probable  requirement  ?  In  view 
of  all  we  now  know  about  the  situa- 
tion, adverse  criticism  of  Lord  Roberts 
is  unwarranted.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered that  he  did  not  have  charge  of 
the  campaign  from  its  inception,  nor 
thus  lay  its  shortcomings  did  he  direct  the  War  Office.  When 
all   eyes.      If  the  War    Office      he    took   charge    there    were  certain 

and  the  Government  at  the  same  time  things     urgently    in     need    of  doing, 

partially  relieve  themselves  of  respon-  Ladysmith,  Kimberley,  and  Mafeking 

sibility,  this  is  only  a  fortunate  incident  required  to  be  relieved,  and  the  Boers 

for  them  and  should  not  weigh  against  had  to  be  driven  out  of  Cape  Colony 


Digitized  byGoOgIC 



to  prevent  further  disaffection  among 
the  Dutch  colonists.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  relief  of  Mafeking;  he 
accomplished  these  objects  in  a  mas- 
terly style  with  the  materials  he  had  at 
hand,  and  he  then  took  the  time  he 
could  well  afford  to  take  in  order  to 
fully  equip  himself  forfuture  operations. 
During  the  past  month  he  has  attempt- 
ed nothing  but  preparation  and  we  can 
judge  how  well  he  has  done  this  only 
when  he  moves  forward  again.  To 
the  impatient  British  public  the  delay 
has  been  long  and  wearing,  and  the 
heedlessness  of  subordinate  officers, 
which  caused  the  minor  disasters  at 
Mealispruit  and  Reddersburg,  has  been 
most  irritating.  To  Lord  Roberts,  we 
may  be  sure,  all  this  has  been  no  less 
trying,  and  the  confident  self-restraint 
he  has  pianifested  is,  perhaps,  a  bet- 
ter evidence  of  his  capacity  than  any- 
thing he  has  yet  done. 

In  these  circumstances  only  a  few 
isolated  events  bearing  on  the  situation 
need  be  noticed.  Mafeking  has  neither 
been  relieved  nor  captured.  Colonel 
Plumer  has  been  checked  on  the  north, 
and  nothing  is  known,  this  side  of  the 
press  censor,  of  the  force  that  it  is 
hoped  is  approaching  from  the  south. 
As  no  report  has  come  from  Pretoria 
of  the  defeat  of  such  a  force,  it  is  only 
too  probable  that  it  has  not  yet  been 
despatched.  A  British  advance  de- 
tachment, under  Colonel  Broadwood, 
finding  Thaba  Nchu  untenable,  fell 
back  towards  Bloemfontein  and  walked 
into  an  ambush  in  a  most  melodramatic 
fashion.  If  it  had  been  planned  as  a 
part  of  field-day  exercises  it  could 
hardly  have  been  a  more  complete  suc- 
cess. At  Reddersburg  a  small  British 
force  was  surrounded  and  captured 
after  it  had  expended  all  its  ammuni- 
tion. General  Gatacre  was  apparently 
held  responsible  for  leaving  it  unsup- 
ported, tor  he  has  been  sent  back  to 
England.  These,  however,  are  mere 
incidents,  and  are  important  only  as 
further  testimony  that  British  officers 
are  not  all  either  so  competent  as  they 
ought  to  be,  or  so  careful  as  their  ex- 

perience  in  this  war  should  have  taught 
them  to  be.  They  are  evidences,  too, 
of  the  reviving  spirit  of  the  Boers  and 
are  sources  of  fresh  encouragement. 
General  Joubert's  death  is  certainly  a 
loss  to  the  Boer  cause.  Itwould  seem 
that  he  was  not  so  popular  among  his 
countrymen  as  some  of  the  other  gen- 
erals, but  this  may  be  a  tribute  to  his 
wisdom,  for  he  probably  restrained 
their  rashness.  He  was  undoubtedly 
an  able  leader,  and  won  the  respect  of 
his  enemies  as  no  other  Boer  has  ever 
done.  The  comments  of  the  British 
press  at  the  time  of  his  death  were 
thoroughly  appreciative,  and  were  not- 
able, inasmuch  as  they  showed  that  the 
British  people  is  big  enough  to  grant 
due  merit  to  a  foeman. 

Of  more  general  concern  than  these 
events  were  the  announcements  of  the 
finding  of  the  arbitrators  in  the  Delagoa 
Bay  Railway  dispute  andof  the  arrange- 
ment between  Britain  and  Portugal  by 
which  British  troops  could  be  trans- 
ported from  Beira  across  Portuguese 
territory  into  Rhodesia.  The  'history 
of  the  Delagoa  Bay  Railway  case  was 
given  in  this  department  in  February. 
The  award  to  the  claimants  of  only  a  lit- 
tle over$3,ooo,ooo  was  far  below  expec- 
tations. To  a  certain  extent  this  is  a 
private  matter,  but  it  had  international 
bearings.  If  the  award  had  been  greater 
Portugal  would  have  had  difficulty  in 
raising  it,  and  would  probably  have 
been  persuaded  to  sell  Delagoa  Bay  to 
Britain.  This  was  the  outcome  hoped 
for  by  the  British  people  and  feared  by 
the  Transvaal,  and  by  the  unfriendly 
foreign  powers.  Britain  was  waiting 
for  the  award  before  definitely  securing 
a  route  to  the  Transvaal  from  the  east. 
The  promptness  with  which  the  Beira 
arrangement  was  concluded  and  an- 
nounced shows  that  alternatives  had 
been  considered  and  all  preliminaries 
arranged.  When  the  whole  truth  is 
known,  perhaps  it  will  be  found  that 
Beira  is  to  remain  British,  Portugal 
cannot  well  refuse  Britain  anything, 
because  she  can  continue  to  exist  only 
through  Britain's  support.     Just  what 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


How  the  cartoonist  of  the  Chicago  Trihttm  regards  Admiral 

Dewey's  decision  to  seek  the  nomination  as  Democratic 

candidate  for  presidential  honours. 

part  the  troops  being  sent  in  by  this 
route  are  intended  to  play  in  the  war 
remains  to  be  seen.  As  soon  as  they 
reach  Bulawayo  the  railway  wilt  be 
open  to  them  down  to  the  point  now 
held  by  Colonel  Plumer,  and  they  may 
be  entrusted  with  the  relief  of  Mafe- 
king,  as  a  first  object,  and  may  then 
co-operate  in  the  attack  on  Pretoria  ; 
or  it  may  be  that  a  portion  of  the  force 
will  be  left  along  the  northern  border 
of  the  Transvaal  to  prevent  another 
trek  of  the  Boers.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  believe  that  the  Boers  have  enter- 
tained, asalast  resort,  the  idea  of  a  trek 
northward  to  the  regions  beyond  eifec- 
tive  British  occupation,  where  they 
might  come  into  touch  with  the  Ger- 
man or  Belgian  spheres  of  influence 

and  in  the  years  to  come 
prove  an  even  more  dan- 
gerous menace  to  peace 
than  they  have  in  the 
past.  The  Transvaal  is 
much  exercised  over  this 
new  arrangement  and 
France  and  Russia  are 
far  from  pleased ;  but 
the  strong  British  fleet  in 
African  waters  was  not 
despatched  there  solely 
as  a  hint  that  it  would  be 
unsafe  to  attempt  to  in- 
terfere with  the  trans- 

Are  Russia  and  Japan 
on  the  eve  of  war?  Re- 
lations between  these 
countries  are  more  strain- 
ed, but  war  is  hardly  pro- 
bable just  now,  chiefly 
because  neither  power 
feels  ready  to  fight  the 
other.  The  latest  cause 
of  friction  is  Russia's 
recent  demands  upon 
Corea,  The  most  impor- 
tant of  these  demands  is 
that  Corea  shall  not  alien- 
ate to  any  other  power,  in 
any  form,  theisland  of  Ko- 
jedo  or  any  portion  there- 
of. Thisis  diplomatic  lan- 
guage for  a  demand  that  Corea  shall 
alienate  this  island  to  Russia  as  soon 
as  Russia  thinks  the  way  is  clear  to 
take  possession.  But  this  island  com- 
mands the  Corean  Straits,  and  across 
the  straits  lies  the  kingdom  of  Japan. 
If  Japan  controls  the  Corean  Straits 
Russia  will  have  no  free  ocean  route 
between  Vladivostock  and  Port  Ar- 
thur; and  if  Russia  controls  them 
Japan  will  always  be  open  to  attack. 
A  less  serious  conflict  of  interests  has 
often  produced  war.  In  other  respects, 
too,  Russia  is  extending  her  influence 
in  Corea.  This,  in  itself,  must  always 
be  resented  by  Japan,  which  has  strong 
sentimental  as  well  as  practical  rela- 
tions with  that  country.  Japan  fought 
China  over  Corea,  and  was   then  de- 

□  igitizedbyGoOglC 



prived  of  the  fruits  of  victory  by  the 
interveotion  of  Russia ;  and  in  the 
distant  past  the  intellectual  and  social 
bonds  bietween  the  two  countries  were 
close.  The  Balkan  states  are  always 
more  or  less  disturbed,  and  trouble 
will  arise  in  that  quarter  at  some  time. 
Servia  and  Bulgaria  have  both  been 
making  preparations,  but  for  what  no 
one  seems  to  know.  Of  other  foreign 
happenings  perhaps  the  most  pleasing 
was  the  debate  in  the  French  Senate, 
during'  the  course  of  which  M.  Del- 
casse,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
made  a  speech  on  the  relations  be- 
tween Britain  and  France  which  was 
both  sane  and  friendly.  The  appre- 
hension with  regard  to  Britain's  de- 
signs, which  seized  upon  France  a  few 
weeks    ago,    is    rapidly    disappearing. 

Admiral  Dewey  is  willing  to  become 

a  candidate  for  the  Presidency  of  the 
United  States.  He  is  taking  himself 
seriously  in  the  matter,  but  that  is  not 
a  sufficient  reason  for  considering  him 
a  serious  factor.  It  is  hard  to  see,  after 
all  that  has  occurred,  how  his  chances 
of  election  can  be  good.  However, 
the  game  played  for  the  Presidency 
this  year  promises  to  be  very  interest- 

Within  the  Empire  nothing  has  at- 
tracted wider  interest  than  the  Queen's 
visit  to  Ireland.  It  was  a  happy 
inspiration  that  prompted  this  visit 
and  the  special  favours  to  Irish 
soldiers;  but  the  results  can  by  no 
means  be  predicted  with  certainty. 
What  was  done  was  what  a  woman 
can  do  better  than  a  man.  The 
Queen's  death  will  be  a  greater  loss  to 
the  Empire  than  is  now  realized. 


not  sympathize  very  strongly  with 
Thoreau's  constant  cry  of  "  Back  to 
Nature,"  and  stated  that  he  looked  upon 
modern  sentimental  ism  about  nature  as 
amark  of  liver  complaint ;  yet  he  thought 
enough  of  the  hermit  of  Walden  Pond 
to  say  of  him  : 

"  His  whole  life  was  a  rebuke  of  the  waste 
uid  aimlessneas  of  our  American  luxnnr  which 
i»   KD    abject    enaUvement    let   tawdry    up- 

The  manager  of  a  summer  resort  on 
the  Hudson  River,  N.  Y.,  dedicates  his 
descriptive  pamphlet  in  the  following 
words : 

To  those  Sensible  American 
People  who  seek  Comfort 
Without  Waste  and  Elegance 
Without  Oatentation. 

A  modern  protest  against  tawdrioess 
has  been  made  by  Elbert  Hubbard, 
the  Roycrofter.  His  work  in  the  Roy- 
croft  shops  has  been  intended  to  show 

people  that  they  should  have  fewer 
things  and  have  them  better.  Thoreau 
advised  people  to  go  and  live  in  the 
woods  where  communion  might  be  held 
with  the  mink  and  the  woodchuck.  Mr. 
Hubbard  accepts  the  people's  books 
and  houses,  but  says  :  Let  us  have 
better  books,  more  simple  furniture 
and  a  life  which  is  devoid  of  sham  and 
false  glitter. 

I  have  heard  Canadian  citizens  re- 
mark upon  the  lack  of  display  in  the  equi- 
pages in  which  the  wives  of  rich 
Canadians  are  wont  to  go  calling  and 
shopping.  One  brougham  lacked  a 
footman ;  another  had  a  footman,  but 
his  top  boots  were  not  up-to-date  ; 
another  lacked  a  monogram  upon  the 
door  panel.  These  critics  desired  to- 
see  more  display.  I  have  heard  Cana- 
dians complain,  that  our  hotels  are 
too  plain  and  too  modest  and  do  not 
charge  enough  for  their  service.  The 
air  is  full  of  protest  against  our  sim- 
plicity and  love  of  genuine  comfort. 
Most  Canadians  are  l 



ciples  of  Ruskin,  Thoreau,  Tolstoi  and 
Hubbard;  yet  their  more  ambitious 
brethren  find  them  worthy  only  of  con- 
demnation, having  little  appreciation 
for  simplicity  of  taste  and  natural  re- 

Many  actors  and  actresses  gather 
pruse  from  people  who  possess  false 
ideas  of  beauty  and  artistic  effect.  So, 
much  of  so-called  society  rests  on  the 
elevated  plane  created  by  those  who 
think  glitter  is  elegance  and  audacity 
is  breeding, 

I  recently  spent  an  evening  at  the 
Waldorf-Astoria  in  New  York,  the 
greatest  hotel  in  a  great  city.  The 
street  about  it  was  domed  by  an  iron 
structure  dotted  with  hundreds  of 
incandescent  lights,  making  the  ap- 
proaches a  gilded  pathway.  The  liver- 
ied menial  swung  the  huge  door,  and 
we  were  ushered  into  high-ceilinged 
and  well-paved  corridors  which  led  to 
the  various  rooms  which  occupy  the 
ground  floor.  The  outer  corridors 
were  dotted  with  groups  of  well- 
groomed  men  discussing  business  and 
politics  ;  while  the  inner  were  more 
daintily  decorated  and  furnished,  and 
boasted  a  fiiir  sprinkling  of  well- 
gowned  women  of  fashion  and  society. 
In  the  smoking-room  men  and  women 
sat  together  at  tables  or  played  bil- 
liards at  the  magnificent  tables.  The 
dining  rooms  and  supper  rooms  were 
radiant  with  electric  lights,  artificial 
palms,  gilded  candelabra,  polished 
woods  and  cut  glass.  The  furnishings 
were  the  most  costly,  the  decorations 
the  most  brilliant,  the  service  the 
most  complete.  The  rooms  were  gen- 
erous in  size  and  appointment.  But 
over  it  all  was  the  atmosphere  of 
artificiality.  The  ladies'  eyebrows, 
complexions,  movements  and  gar- 
ments alike  exhibited  a  lack  of  natural 
grace.  The  air  was  full  of  hollow- 
ness,  mockery  and  sensuousness.  In- 
dulged human  nature  that  cried  for 
stimulant,  more  stimulant,  found  here 
its  last  meal.  When  tired  of  this, 
there  was  an  end  of  satisfaction. 

Do  not  mistake  me.  I  would  not 
banish  the  artificial  from  life.  What  I 
would  counsel  is,  that  the  artificial 
shall  be  a  means,  not  an  end.  If  we 
must  make  sacrifices  let  us  remember 
that  they  are  sacrifices,  never  forget- 
ting that  Nature  is  the  balm  for  all 
wounds.  Let  us  wear  our  artificiality 
as  a  cloak  to  be  thrown  off  whenever 
the  opportunity  offers.  If  the  devel- 
opment of  the  artificial  takes  prece- 
dence over  the  development  of  the 
natural,  then  we  run  a  race  which  can 
end  only  in  the  crushing  of  body  and 

To  prevent  this  artificially  develo[Hng 
from  the  servant  into  the  master,  the 
individual  must  seek  after  the  nobility 
that  is  in  the  world — nobility  of 
thought,  nobility  of  action,  nobility  of 
living.  The  noblest  of  thoughts  will 
be  found  in  the  records  of  all  great 
men  from  the  days  of  the  Christ  to 
those  in  which  we  are  now  living. 
Nobility  of  action  must  be  cultivated 
by  doing  noble  deeds — deeds  which  are 
unheralded  and  unadvertised.  Nobility 
of  living  must  be  maintained  by  get- 
ting away  a  portion  of  each  year  from 
the  artificial  to  the  natural,  from  the  re- 
gion of  cosmetics,  candelabra  and  foot- 
lights to  the  sweet  bowers  of  nature's 

The  late  Archibald  Lampman  wrote 
a  poem  entitled  "Life  and  Nature." 
He  passes  through  the  gates  of  the 
city  and  hears  the  murmur  of  prayer  in 
the  churches,  and  the  solemn  singing.  . 

A  sound  of  some  great  burden 

That  lay  on  the  world's  dark  breast, 

Of  the  old,  and  the  sick,  and  the  lonely. 
And  Ihe  weary  Ihat  cried  for  resL 

Oppressed  by  the  sadness  of  life  in 
the  city  he  passed  out  again  to  the 

Blue,  blue  was  the  heaven  above  me. 
And  the  earth  green  at  my  Teel  ; 

"Oh,  Life!  Oh,  Life!"   Ikeptsaying, 
And  the  very  word  seemed  sweet. 

/Mw  A.  Cooper. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


FOR  the  success  of  Miss  Maryjohn- 
stoa's  romance,*  which  has  taken 
so  many  readers  by  storm,  we  need 
look  no  farther  than  the  deep-seated 
fancy  that  exists  in  prosaic  days  for  the 
brave  deeds,  the  marvellous  adven- 
tures, and  the  courtly  men  and  women 
ascribed  by  imagination  to  the  world 
of  300  years  ago.  The  unexpected 
marriageof  two  persons  who  are  at  first 
strangers,  but  who  at  last  love  one 
another  appeals  to  the  sense  of  romance 
in  both  sexes.  Virginia  in  1631  is  the 
scene.  A  ward  of  King  James,  who 
flies  to  escape  a  hateful  union,  who  is 
driven  by  fate  into  the  arms  of  a  gen- 
tleman adventurer  in  the  colony,  and 
who  finds  in  him  a  chivalrous  pro- 
tector, is  the  heroine.  A  series  of 
thrilling  escapes  and  much  carnage 
of  pirates  and  savage  Indians  enchain 
the  attention.  That  the  hair  of  every 
reader  rises  on  end  (for  bald-headed 
cynics  without  romance  do  not  read 
these  books)  shows  how  perfectly  the 
authoress  has  caught  the  spirit  that 
produced  the  early  tales  of  Weyman, 
One  would  wish  to  be  young  enough 
to  begin  life  over  again  with  Ralph 
Percy  or  the  Lady  Jocelyn  Leigh  for  a 
model.  But  this  being  impossible,  we 
must  take  the  best  substitute,  and  Miss 
Johnston  provides  it. 

What  one  admires  in  the  prose  work 
of  Mr.  Charles  G.  D.  Roberts  is  that 
the  charm  qf  poetic  finish  seems  to 
breathe  in  all  his  ptories.  The  latest 
volume,!  containing  twelve  short  tales, 

'To  Have  and  to  Hold,  By  Mary  John- 
Hton.    Toronto  :  Morani^  *  Co. 

tBy  the  Marshes  of  Uinas.  By  Chas.  G. 
D.  Roberts.   'Toronto  :  W^illiam  Brigga. 

has  quickly  passed  to  a  second  edi- 
tion, and  one  bears  willing  testimony  to 
the  simplicity  and  vividness  which  cha- 
racterize the  style.  Mr.  Roberts  has 
made  the  expulsion  of  the  Acadians 
his  own  ground  in  fiction,  as  Longfellow 
did  in  verse.  The  short  episodes  here 
related  are  all  of  the  place  and  the 
period,  but  several  stand  out  by  them- 
selves as  excellent  examples  of  Mr. 
Roberts'  skilful  art  in  telling  a  brief 
tale  of  romance  and  adventure.  We 
have  seen  none  of  the  stories  before, 
and  they  form  a  volume  of  very  con- 
siderable attraction  and  merit 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  short  story 
has  become  a  great  favourite  among 
readers  of  fiction.  In  the  hands  of  an 
artist  it  can  be  turned  to  many  uses, 
and  Mr.  Fairchild,  whose  writings  are 
not  unknown  to  readers  of  this  Maga- 
zinh,  has  done  well  in  gathering  toge- 
ther for  republication*  ten  of  those 
sketches  of  French  Canadian  life  and 
character,  which  show  him  to  be  pos- 
sessed of  a  quiet  humour  and  a  real 
knowledge  of  the  people  among  whom 
he  lives.  Mr.  Fairchild  has  a  special 
relish  for  the  vicissitudes  of  country 
courtship,  and  the  good-humoured  way 
in  which  he  can  rally,  and  at  length 
make  happy  a  pair  of  lovers,  is  not  the 
least  of  his  qualities. 

Mr.  Crockett  is  at  it  again,  by  which 
we  mean  with  no  disrespect,  that  his 
astonishing  industry  and  versatility 
have  produced  another  new  novel,  a 
fat  volume,  t  in  which  the  author's 
native  humour  and  a  desire  to  write  a 

•A  Ridiculous  Courting,  and  other  Stories 
of  French  Canada.  By  G.  M,  Fairchild,  Jr. 
Chicago  !  R.  R.  Donnelly  4  Sons  Co, 

-Joan  of  the  Sword  Hand.  By  S.  R.  Croc- 
Icelt.     Toronto  1  Copp,  Clark  Co. 



madiseval  romance  strugg^le  for  the 
mastery.  In  "Joan  of  the  Sword 
Hand  "  we  have  enough  tragedy  and 
War,  enough  comedy  and  love-making 
to  please  the  most  exacting.  The 
medley  is  agreeable  enough,  and  the 
book  is  not  one  to  weary  of  or  to  leave 
unfinished.  But  despite  its  stirring 
action,  its  gorgeous  revival  of  knightly 
achievements,  of  ancient  castles,  and 
imperious  princesses,  we  feel  that  it  is 
a  burlesque  upon  history,  that  the  au- 
thor knows  it  to  be  one,  and  is  deter* 
mined  to  show  how  clever  and  enter- 
tainining  he  can  make  a  burlesque. 
The  view  of  Pope  Sixtus,  quite  in 
keeping  with  the  rest  of  the  history,  is 
a  severe  satire,  with  this  mitigation, 
that  in  absolving  a  priest's  vows  to 
enable  him  to  marry  his  brother's 
widow,  Pope  Sixtus  has  the  full  con- 
sent and  approval  of  the  author,  a 
Scotch  minister  1 

The  author  of  "The  Realist"*  has 
shown  with  great  skill  how  perfectly 
the  modern  novel  reader  is  taken  in  and 
done  for  by  the  new  school  of  sensa- 
tional writers.  The  hero  is  a  French 
author  who  is  writing  an  English  novel, 
and  being  a  realist  wants  to  draw  his 
characters  and  scenes  from  real  life. 
In  order  to  gratify  his  tastes  he  nearly 
drives  a  worthy  young  journalist  and 
his  lady  love,  who  acts  as  the  author's 
amanuensis,  frantic  with  horror  and 
alarm.  It  is  all  worked  out  so  welt 
that  the  reader — like  the  hero  and 
heroine — thrills,  trembles,  despairs 
and  goes  through  all  the  various  dis- 
plays required  of  the  automota  in  the 


A  number  of  worthy  and  industrious 
persons,  with  the  critical  Instinct,  have 
set  themselves  to  destroy  the  belief 
that  William  Shakespeare  wrote  the 
plays  attributed  to  him.  This  alarm- 
ing campaign  grows  more  virulent 
with  time.  It  is  alarming  because  so 
few  of  us  who  shine  in  literature  can 
hope  to  leave  much  behind  us  but  our 

Immortal  works.  Deprive  us  of  the 
hoped-for  favour  of  posterity,  and  what 
becomes  of  the  zest  of  present  exist- 
ence? The  latest  critic  to  join  the 
Shakespeare  hunt*  leaves  the  bard 
without  a  rag  of  reputation — histrionic, 
literary,  moral  or  other.  We  are  told 
that  it  is  doubtful  if  he  could  write. 
This  test  alone,  one  feels,  raises  doubts. 
Accepting  the  supposed  signatures  as 
genuine,  how  could  a  man  who  ap- 
pears to  have  penned  his  name  with 
the  blunt  end  of  a  match  have  com- 
posed those  magnificent  plays  P  Every 
printer  knows  the  faultless  chirography 
of  literary  men.  The  hand-writing  of 
the  present  writer  has  often  (at  a 
glance)  been  distinguished  from  the 
Egyptian  hieroglyphics.  Shakespear- 
ian scholars  should  meet  this  objection. 
Before  it  the  fondest  admirer  quails. 
Mr.  Edwards  raises  other  points,  with 
tireless  vigilance  and  amazing  spirit. 
He  pictures  "  Shaksper,"  a  butcher's 
boy,  illiterate,  licentious,  an  indifferent 
actor,  a  hoarder  of  gain,  and  claims 
that  whoever  wrote  the  Shakespeare 
plays  this  "  Shaksper  "  did  not.  The 
theory  may  excite  curiosity,  but  it  is, 
to  our  mind,  simply  preposterous. 
Commonplace  people  will  turn,  with- 
out remorse,  to  Mr.  Lee's  admirable 
book  as  a  sane  and  scholarly  produc- 
tion presenting  in  a  coherent  manner 
the  salient  points  in  Shakespeare's 
career,  and  reviewing  for  us  all  the 
evidence  we  are  apparently  ever  to  have 
respecting  the  poet  and  his  works.  In 
a  note  at  the  conclusion  of  the  volume 
Mr.  Lee  deals  with  the  theory  that 
Bacon  was  the  author  of  the  plays, 
and  while  one  can  readily  admit  that 
those  who  propound  this  view  lack 
for  neither  brains  nor  ingenuity,  their 
quest  is  in  vain.  Few,  if  any,  trained 
and  well-balanced  critics  can  doubt 
that  the  plays  of  Shakespeare  were  the 
product  of  just  such  a  man  as  we  have 
reason  to  believe  Shakespeare  was — 
a  man  of  infinite  fancy,  of  capacious 
intellect,  of  remarkable  energy,    with 

'Shakaper  not  Sbakeapeare.  By  Wm.  H. 
Edwards.  Cincinnati:  The  Robert  Clarke 
Co.;  The  Life  of  Shakeipeare.  By  Sydney 
Lee.     London  :    Smith,  Elder  tt  Co. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

BOOir  KEiriEWS 


the  limitations  of  a  defective  education, 
but  inspired  by  the  most  wonderful  a^ 
in  English  development,  and  illumia- 
ia^  for  all  time  the  literature  of  the 
world  by  the  splendour  of  his  genius. 
The  idea  is  now  broached  that  Sir 
Walter  Scott  was  not  the  author  of  all 
the  Waverley  novels  because  the  manu- 
script of  several  of  them  is  in  the  hand- 
writing of  Ballantyne.  It  is  surely  not 
arrogant  obtuseness  to  treat  these 
theories  as  the  amusements  of  an  age 
which  is  at  once  thorough  and  capri- 
cious, practical  yet  credulous. 


That  Mr.  Adams,  who  represented 
the  United  States  in  England  during 
the  Civil  War,  had  an  exceptionally 
difficult  position  to  fill  is  no  secret. 
The  memoir*  now  published  by  his 
son  confirms  this  belief  and  amplifies 
the  proofs  already  in  existence  that  the 
diplomacy  of  that  troublous  period  was 
rendered  doubly  tneffeclive  by  the  fact 
that  neither  the  Palmerstoo  nor  the 
Lincoln  administration  had  any  real 
confidence  in  the  other.  Mr.  Adams 
was  a  distinguished  man  of  the  highest 
character,  yet  the  relations  between 
the  two  countries  were  so  embittered 
that  both  his  social  and  official  duties 
were  often  discharged  under  circum- 
stances exceptionally  trying.  The 
present  volume  is  merely  preparatory 
to  a  longer  work  in  which  the  talented 
son  of  an  illustrious  father  will  exhibit, 
by  means  of  diaries  and  letters,  a 
career  of  much  interest  to  Englishmen 
from  1861  to  1868,  the  period  during 
which  Mr.  Adams  was  in  London. 
One  infers,  perhaps  unfairly,  that  the 
Minister  in  discharging  his  functions 
showed  a  less  gracious  demeanour 
than  that  exhibited  by  Lord  Lyons, 
whose  tact,  kindliness  and  delicacy 
figured  so  impressively  in  the  negotia- 
tions at  Washington,  drawing  from 
Seward,  the  Secretary  of  State,  a 
formal   acknowledgment,    couched    in 

'Charles  Francis  Adams.  By  his  son, 
Charles  Francis  Adams.  Boston:  Houghton, 
HiSin  ft  Co. 

warm  terms,  that  Lord  Lyons  had  done 
much  in  the  Mason  and  Slidell  affair 
to  avert  a  war.  Not  that  Mr.  Adams 
failed  in  dignity  and  candour,  but  if 
we  are  to  take  these  pages  as  a  correct 
interpretation  of  his  mental  position 
throughout  a  prolonged  controversy  he 
was  unable  to  comprehend  the  British 
attitude  of  hostility  toward  his  country 
— an  attitude  influenced  by  at  least  a 
generation  of  unfair  diplomatic  treat- 
ment. After  the  lapse  of  forty  years 
one  can  see  clearly  enough  that  Eng- 
land never  could  have  lotervened  in  be-  ■ 
half  of  a  slave-holding  confederacy. 
The  popular  instinct  was  against  it. 
Lord  Patmerston's  ill-starred  alliance 
with  Louis  Napoleon,  fraught  with 
humiliation  to  himself  and  his  country, 
doubtless  contributed  to  the  delay  in 
reaching  a  real  understanding  of  the 
position.  But  Seward's  own  course, 
outlined  here  we  must  confess  with 
very  great  leniency,  would  justify 
almost  any  Government  in  distrusting 
him  and  being  ready  for  war  rather 
than  peace.  This  was  most  unfor- 
tunate, since  it  encouraged  the  South 
to  hold  out  in  expectation  of  help. 
That  there  were  faults'  on  both  sides, 
an  impartial  observer  would  admit,  but 
ire  do  not  find  much  confession  to  that 
effect  in  this  memoir.  It  is  painful  to 
discover  in  the  temper  of  the  present 
biographer  such  deeply  rooted  hostility 
to  English  policy,  and  it  augurs  ill  for 
the  future  relations  of  the  two  nations 
when  the  best  type  of  Americans  find 
it  hard  to  construe  history  dispassion- 
ately. Apart  from  this,  the  book  re- 
veals to  us  a  singularly  pure  and  lofty 
character  of  whom  any  son,  indeed  any 
country,  might  well  cherish  the  most 
affectionate  respect. 


To  go  about  with  a  small  red  book 
— over  which  you  pore  intently  in  rail- 
way trains  or  on  top  of  omnibuses — is 
in  Europe  to  proclaim  yourself  a  tourist. 
The  red  book  is  Baedeker's  handbook 
for  travellers,  and  tt  is  significant  that 
the  year  1900  sees  the  issue  of  a  new 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



edition  of  "Baedeker'sCanada,"*  an  ia- 
dicatioQ  that  the  stream  of  visitors  to 
the  Dominion  is  now  large  enough  to 
call  for  a  revised  volume.  The  book 
is  on  identical  lines  with  the  European 
handbooks.  The  system  of  exact,  com- 
pressed, detailed  information  is  orig'- 
inal,  and  probably  the  best  devised. 
The  visitor  is  taken  in  hand  like  a 
child,  and  moved  about,  even  the  street 
he  shall  walk  on  and  the  view  he  should 
take  being  prescribed.  The  present 
writer  once  followed  Baedeker's  direc- 
tions to  the  letter  in  visiting  an  English 
town — for  curiosity's  sake — and  to  this 
day  retains  a  more  perfect  recollection 
of  it  than  of  any  other  place  visited. 
For  the  utter  stranger  the  system  is 
admirable.  This  volume  contains  17 
maps  and  plans,  the  best  we  have  ever 
seen.  There  are  short  introductory 
articles  on  the  Constitution  by  Sir  John 
Bourinot,  on  Geography  and  Geology, 
by  G.  M.  Dawson,  F.R.S.;  on  Spoils 
and  Pastimes,  by  Messrs.  Fuller  & 


Mr.  lies  has  the  faculty  of  doing  a 
number  of  things  well.  In  literature, 
as  in  science,  he  is  intensely  practical, 
and  therefore  his  new  bookt  will  be 
appreciated  by  those  who  dabble  in 
science  for  the  purpose  of  acquiring  a 
knowledge  of  what  it  does  and  can  do 
in  modern  life.  In  the  opening  sent- 
ence the  author  succinctly  sets  forth 
his  aim  as  "an  attempt  briefly  to  recite 
the  chief  uses  of  fire,  electricity  and 
photography,  bringing  the  narrative  of 
discovery  and  invention  to  the  close  of 
1899."  The  attempt  is  successful. 
What  could  be  more  useful  than  a  care- 
ful examination,  exact  without  tiresome 
details,  of  the  development,  the  appli- 
ances and  the  utility  of  telegraphy,  the 
telephone,  photography  and  all  the 
Other  purposes  to  which  flame  and 
electricity  have  been  turned  with  won- 

•"  Baedeker'^  Canada,"  second  revised 
edition.  New  York  :  Charles  Scribnera'  Sons. 

t  Flame,  Electricity  and  (he  Camera.  By 
Geo i^e  Ilea.     Toronto:  The  Publishers' Syn- 

drous  results,  down  to  the  present 
year?.  Mr,  lies  writes  well  and  when 
he  touches  upon  the  economic  as  well 
as  the  actual  effects  of  applied  science 
he  can  be  both  entertaining  and  pro- 
found.  His  book  will  take  its  place 
among  the  works  which  we  call  popu- 
lar for  want  of  a  better  term,  but  which 
is  at  once  serious  and  interesting.  The 
author,  a  Canadian  now  resident  in 
New  York,  is  well  known  in  Montreal 
and  Toronto  for  his  keen  intellectual 
powers,  and  a  real  interest  in  scientific 


Mr.  Bailtie-Grohman,  in  writing  a 
book  about  sport  and  life  on  the  Paci- 
fic Coast,*  has  embodied  some  amus- 
ing experiences  in  British  Columbia. 
He  was  a  pioneer  in  the  Kootenay  re- 
gion, and  how  he  got  a  steam  launch 
from  England  to  one  of  the  lakes  in  the 
region,  carrying  it  on  human  shoulders 
through  the  Selkirks,  is  a  tale  in  itself. 
It  was  entered,  after  a  tussle  with  the 
Montreal  Customs,  as  a  part  of  a 
"settler's  effects."  There  was  only 
one  other  white  resident  in  the  Koo- 
tenay district  in  the  early  Eighties. 
Among  the  Flatbow  Indians,  he  says, 
the  small  steamer 

"created  the  most  profound  HurpriHe,  the 
whole  tribe  dashing  down  to  the  river  bank 
when  they  heard  her  infantile  puffs.  The  big- 
gest thing  about  the  "  Midge  "  was  her  whis- 
tle, and  ti<  get  permission  to  pull  the  siring 
and  send  forth  a  shrill  blast  was  the  most 
prized  privilege  I  could  bestow  on  any  buck  1 
desired  to  distinguish." 

The  Indians  were  glad  to  supply 
wood  for  the  steamer  in  return  for  the 
honour  of  pulling  the  whistle.  These 
were  early  days  indeed  !  The  author 
is  severely  humorous  at  the  expense  of 
the  slow-going  pioneers.  He  had 
despatches  for  one  of  the  Provincial 
Ministers,  which  he  tried  to  deliver  on 
the  29th  June  in  a  certain  year.  The 
Minister  spent  but  a  few  minutes  in  his 
office,  and  successfully  dodged  visitors. 

*  Sport  and  Life  in  the  Hunting  Grounds  of 
Western  America  and  British  Columbia.  By 
W.   A.    Baillie-Grohman.     London :    Horace 

Digitized  b,G00gle 



Next  day  ther 

I  a  cricket  match, 

lay  I 

and  the  Minister  was,  of  course,  pres- 
«Qt.  July  ist  and  4th  were  both  kept 
as  public  holidays,  and  the  Minister 
put  in  four  days'  fishing  at  Cowichan. 
The  fuming  Englishman  had  to  wait, 
but  hetakeshis  revenge  now.     There  is 

much  about  big  game,  the  difficulties 
of  grumbling  pioneers,  andother  phases 
of  a  new  country,  and  those  who  wish 
to  see  British  Columbia  through  the 
spectacles  of  a  cynical  outsider  will 
be  amused  with  Mr.  Baillie-Groh- 


NOT  being  a  popular  novelist  Ernest 
Seton -Thompson's  reputation 
^rows  slowly,  but  it  is  growing.  The 
foundations  have  been  laid  broad  and 
deep,  and  the  structure  may  be  as  lasting 
as  a  Rhine  castle  or  the  Appian  Way. 
His  latest  book  "The  Biography  of  a 
Grizzly "  (Toronto  :  The  Copp  Clark 
Co.)  with  its  seventy-five  drawings,  is 
a  work  of  art,  of  art  in  its  two-fold 
sense.  It  is  an  artistic  story,  this 
biography  of  Wahb,  the  huge  grizzly 
bear  that  was  once  a  little  yellow  ball 
rolling  over  and  over  on  the  grass  with 
three  other  little  yellow  balls,  and  a 
great  mother  grizzly  looking  on  con- 
tentedly. What  Wahb  learned  about 
traps,smells,  roots,  ants,  and  thepleasure 
and  pain  of  life  is  admirably  set  down 
by  this  sage  interpreter  of  the  animal 
kingdom.  The  book  is  artistic  in  an- 
other sense,  for  the  drawings  by  Mr. 
Thompson  and  his  accomplished  wife 
have  been  reproduced  so  as  to  reveal 
and  interpret  what  the  story  tells. 
TTie  volume  is  most  dainty,  a  pearl 
among  the  many  gems  now  being  pro- 
duced to  satisfy  the  rising  taste  of  an 
appreciative  public.  And  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thompson  are  Canadians. 

Oh,  the  stream  of  paper- covered 
novels  !  The  inventor  thereof  should 
have  been  throttled  in  his  infancy,  hut 
perhaps  he  could  not  foresee  that  some 
day  the  name  ol  paper-covered  novels 
would  be  legion.  Ifpeopledidnot  buy 
the  trash,  of  course  it  would  not  be 

Within  paper  covers  however  some 
good  literary  work  may  occasionally 
be  found.  "A  Man's  Woman"  by 
Prank   Norris   and   "The  Waters   of 

The  Mussoo  Book  C».)  The  former 
deals  with  an  artic  explorer  and  the 
woman  who  influenced  him  ;  the  latter 
describes  the  lives  of  some  miserable 
peasants  in  northern  Italy — those  who 
are  bent  and  broken  and  have  many 
years  of  unanswered  prayers. 

The  war  will  be  productive  of  many 
books.  Arthur  H.  Scaife,  an  English- 
man who  came  to  Canada  some  years 
ago  and  assisted  in  the  foundation  of 
the  Vancouver  Provittce  and  who  has 
recently  returned  to  London,  has  written 
a  volume  entitled  ' '  The  War  to  Date, " 
(London  :  T.  Fisher  Unwin).  He  has 
done  his  work  well,  making  free  use 
of  everything  that  has  been  printed  in 
the  London  papers.  The  work  is 
magnificently  illustrated. 

Dennis  Edwards  &  Co.,  of  Capetown, 
publishers  of  the  valuable  volume 
"  Picturesque  South  Africa,"  are  issu- 
ing in  twelve  parts,  at  one  and  six, 
"The  Anglo-Boer  War  Album."  Each 
part  contains  sixteen  large  illustrations 
which  are  just  as  valuable  as  large 
photographs  and  much  less  costly. 

"  Boers  and  British  "  is  a  two-penny 
pamphlet,  by  Frank  R.  Cana,  issued 
by  The  St.  James  Gaselte,  Whitefriars, 
London.  It  deals  with  the  historical 
events  from  1881  up  to  the  beginning 
of  the  war. 


"  Nature's  Garden"  is  the  title  of  a 
large  volume  for  the  botancial  beginner, 
by  Neltje  Blanchan,  author  of  two 
books  on  bird  life.  It  contains  intimate 
life-historiesofoverlive  hundred  species 
of  wild  flowers,  written  in  untechnical, 
vivid  language.     One  of  the  features 



is  the  informatioo  given  concerning  the 
special  insect  to  which  each  flower  is 
ailapted.  Another  feature  is  the  cot- 
lection  of  fifty-six  coloured  plates  aHd 
sixty-three  black  and  white  reproduc- 
tions.    (Toronto :  Wm.  Briggs.) 

Attention  bas  already  been  called  to 
excellent  series  of  chief  scientific  books 
being  published  by  Schleicher  Frferes, 
13  Rue  des  S^nts  Pires,  Paris.  Num- 
ber 19  is  to  hand  and  is  entitled 
"  L'Eluctricit^  et  ses  Applications,"  by 
Dr.  Fouveau  de  Courmelles. 

The  fourth  of  the  yearly  volumes  of 
Historioal  Reviews,  now  being  issued 
by  the  University  of  Toronto  Library, 
mentions  a  very  large  number  of  books, 
pamphlets  and  articles  that  have  been 
issued  during  1899.  It  is  a  question 
whether  the  method  of  the  volume  is 
such  as  to  confuse  or  enlighten  the  read- 
er. When  a  dozen  books  dealing  with 
closely  related  subjects  are  reviewed 
separately,  no  matter  how  well  the 
reviewing  may  be  done,  there  is  no 
connected  array  of  arguments  laid  be- 
fore the  reader.  For  example :  In 
the  first  division  of  the  book,  "Canada's 
Relation  to  the  Empire,"  there  are 
reviews  of  eight  yalumes,  one  article 
and  one  pamphlet  Several  of  these 
might  have  been  ignored  or  merely 
mentioned.  The  more  important  books 
should  have  been  considered  together 
and  the  net  result  of  fresh  research 
and  new  opinions  definitely  stated  in 
one  article.  The  Quarterly  ReiiieiB 
sometimes  reviews  eigfht  or  ten  books 
on  related  subjects  in  one  article,  sum- 
ming up  the  net  result  so  as  to  give 
a  comprehensive  and  connected  survey 
of  the  trend  of  thought  of  alt  the  writers. 
This  method  of  treatment  is  much  to 
be  preferred  to  that  adopted  by  the 
editors  of  the  volume  under  consider- 
ations. This  would,  of  course,  entail 
wider  reading  and  deeper  thought,  but 
it  would  not  be  less  scholarly  work 
than  might  be  expected  from  persons 
assuming  so  much  authority.  Such  a 
method  would  enable  the  reader  to  get 
a  comprehensive  grasp  of  each  subject 

which  cannot  be  gained  from  a  number 
of  scrappy  reviews  and  would  enable 
the  reviewer  to  give  much  broader 
information  in  a  much  smaller  space. 
Ip  reading  the  various  reviews,  one  is 
sometimes  forced  to  stop  and  wonder 
what  the  reviewer  has  been  aiming  at 
in  his  work.  Some  of  the  reviews  indi- 
cate the  errors  and  weaknesses  in  a. 
volume  without  mentioning  or  referring' 
to  the  special  information  which  the 
book  may  contain.  Therefore  after 
the  review  is  read,  the  reader  does  not 
know  whether  or  not  he  should  add  the 
volume  to  his  library. 

To  illustrate  by  a  Canadian  examplCr 
reference  may  be  made  to  the  method 
pursued  by  Dr.  Brymner  in  his  yearly 
report  on  Canadian  archives.  To 
each  volume  of  reprinted  documents 
he  prefixes  a  review  showing  the  re- 
lation to  each  other  of  the  various  docu- 
ments, and  pointing  out  their  signifi- 
cance and  their  salient  features.  Such 
an  introduction  to  each  of  the  six 
sections  in  the  volume  edited  by  Pro- 
fessor Wrong  and  Mr.  Langton  would 
have  been  very  valuable  and  would 
have  been  welcomed  by  the  person 
who  desires  to  know  what  each  year's 
publications  add  to  our  knowledge  of 
Canadian  history. 

In  the  division  of  the  book  entitled 
"  Archseology,  Ethnology  and  Polk- 
Lore,"  some  twenty-six  books  and 
articles  are  reviewed  by  Prof.  A.  F. 
Chamberlain  in  four  groups.  This 
method  is  much  more  satisfactory  than 
that  adopted  in  the  other  sections  for 
the  reasons  that  have  already  been 

David  Boyle,  the  Ontario  Archxolo- 
^st,  has  issued  his  report  for  1S99 
(Education  Department,  Toronto)  and 
has  added  much  valuable  data  to  our 
archaeological  knowledge.  The  notes' 
on  some  recentty-added  specimens  are 
very  valuable.  Wm.  E.  Connelley 
writes  of  "The  Wyandots,"  Benjamin 
Suite  of  "  The  Wars  of  the  Iroquois," 
Alex.  T.  Cringan  of  "  Dance  Songs 
of  the  Iroquois  "  and  several  writers 
give  much  new  information  concerning 
the  sites  of  ancient  Indian  villages. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

I^IDLL  M01iENT5|^ 


WHEN  the  District  of  Pan?  Sound 
was  first  settled,  there  came  a 
gentlemaa  from  England  by  the  name 
of  Heoley,  who  located  on  the  shores 
of  a  beautiful  lalce  called  Mannatuwaba. 
He  was  of  good  birth  and  education, 
had  plenty  of  money,  and  was  noted 
for  and  near  for  his  hospitality  and 
deeds  of  kindness.  Though  he  was 
drowned  in  the  lake  one  dark  and 
stormy  night  many  years  ago,  his 
memory  is  still  fresh  in  the  hearts  of  all 
the  old  settlers  who  knew  him.  At  a 
supper  given  in  his  honour,  shortly  be- 
fore his  death,  Mr.  Henley  related  the 
following  incident,  which  he  declared 
had  happened  only  a  few  days  previ- 
ous :  "  One  dark  night,"  said  he,  "  I 
was  sitting  alone  in  my  house  reading 
when  1  was  startled  by  a  knock  and 
the  words  '  Dinna  be  afeered,  Mister 
Henley.'  I  hastened  to  open  the  door, 
but  could  see  nobody.  A  voice  from 
round  the  corner  of  the  house  inquired, 
*  Cud  ye  pass  me  oot  some  claes,  Mis- 
terHenley?'  'Who  are  you,  and  what's 
the  matter?'  I  asked.  'Dinna  ye  ken 
who  1  be  ?  I'm  old  Tommy  Nichol  an' 
I've  lost  ma  claes.'  '  Come  in,  man,' 
I  cried  in  astonishment,  'you'll  perish 
of  cold  out  there. '  The  night  was  very 
chilly  indeed.  'You  dinna  hae  com- 
pany, hae  ye  ?'  cautiously  inquired  the 
old  man,  coming  out  from  his  refuge, 
his  teeth  chattering,  and  he  was  in  a 
regular  shiver.  I  soon  had  him  cloth- 
ed and  while  he  was  sipping  a  hot 
Scotch  with  great  gusto,'  I  asked  him 
bow  he  came  to  be  in  such  a  wretched 
plight.  '  Weel,'  said  he,  'ye  ken  I'm 
abuildin'  a  barn,  an'  as  1  was  cummin' 
oop  the  lake  I  tho't  I'd  Ian'  on  the 
point  for  some  sand  to  mix  with  the 
lime,  ye  ken.  I  run  my  canoe  up  to  the 
bar,  an'  jumped  oot,  but  that  beastie  of 
a  dog  jumped  oot  after  me  and  kicked 
the  canoe  oiF  fra  the  bank.  When  I 
turned  rouo'  she  was  ten  yards  awa'. 

So  I  off  wid  ma  claes  an'  in  after  her. 
It  was  amast  dark  an'  I  cudna  swim 
fast,  an'  the  dog  kept  tryin'  to  pull  me 
back,  so  when  1  foun'  I  cudna  catch 
her  I  got  ashore  as  best  1  cud.  Ve  ken 
it  was  dark  an'  I  didna  Ian'  on  the 
same  place.  Then  oop  an*  doon  1 
went  but  na  claes  cud  I  fin',  so  I  says, 
auld  Tom,  ye  mon  get  to  Mister  Hen- 
ley's quick,  or  you'll  die  of  cald.  Ay, 
man  alive,  but  I  had  a  sairtime,  1  tried 
to  walk  fas'  to  keep  warm,  but  I  trod 
on  a  knot  and  made  a  howl  in  ma  foot, 
then  I  barked  ma  shin  agin  a  rock  and 
fell  over  a  tree.  Then  I  just  sat  me 
down  to  greet.  Marcy  alive,  man,  I 
did  shake  wi'  the  cald.  1  tho't  I'd 
creep,  but  I  cudna  mak' ony  headway. 
Ay  but  it  was  a  sair  journey  on  a  puir. 
auld  man  lak'  me.  At  last  I  seed  yer 
light.  Mister  Henley,  an'  I  thanket 
God  earnest-like.  Now,  how  am  I  to 
get  in  ?  1  tho't.  What  if  Mister  Hen- 
ley has  company,  and  if  1  knock  it's  a 
spook  he'll  say  it  is  when  he  sees  me. 
So  I  just  tho't  I'd  tell  ye  before  I  came 
in  sight.  Weel,  I'm  ou'er  glad  I  got 
in  sa  safe,  but  hoo'M  I  get  awa'  noo 
wi'oot  ma  claes  ?  Cud  ye  let  me  wear 
these, Mister  Henley?'  I  informed  him 
that  he  was  welcome  to  them  as  long 
as  he  wished.  He  stayed  ivith  me  all 
night,  and  next  morning  saw  the  old 
fellow  away  on  a  search  for  his  lost 

J.  Harmon  Patterson. 

The  first  of  the  season  she  made  her  tt^but— 
(O  I   my   heart,   O  I    my   heart,   tiow  you 
thumped  when  we  met  1) 
And  the  touch  of  her  soft  Uttle  hand.thrilled 
me  through. 
With  an  ecstatic  hiiss  that  I  ne'er  shall  for- 

Sweet  d^buUnle. 

The  loveliest  bud  of  the  gay  year  is  she — 
(O I  my  heart,  she  haj  taken  you  captive,  I 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


Blue  eyes  th&t  peep  sbyly  tfarough  rringes  at 

HappineM  reigns  o'er  the  sun-smothered  days 
(O!  my  heart,  the  Klftd  secret  you  know, 
ah,  you  know !) 

And  life  sings  faer  sweetest  and  merriest  lays. 
For  I'm  sure  my  love  loves  me,  her  eyes  tell 

Dear  debutante. 

Without  her,   a   dark,   cheerless   world   this 
would  be — 
{O  t  my  heart,  bow  I  love  her — toy  jewel, 
my  pearl  !) 
For  I  am  her  slave  and  her  daddy,  you  see, 
And  she  is  my  baby — my  wee  baby  girl. 
Hy  debutante. 

Liatit  Englith  Dyas. 

A    Boarding-Hatae  Episodt. 

The  old  bachelor  occupied  that  room 
in  the  boarding;  house  which  was 
known  as  the  "  Klondike."  The 
boarding  house  stood  at  the  idtersec- 
tion  of  two  streets,  and  the  "Klon- 
dike "  was  situated  at  the  north-east 
angle  of  the  building,  so  that  its  occu- 
pant received  the  full  benefit  of  winds 
that  came  howling  down  from  the 
north,  or,  by  way  of  diversion,  whirled 
up  from  east  or  west.  The  boarding 
house  furnace  was  not  overworked, 
and  the  scanty  allowance  of  hot  air 
which  it  doled  out  seldom  troubled 
itself  to  wander  as  far  as  the  bachelor's 
room  ;  but,  should  it  feel  inclined  to  do 
so,  provision  was  made  for  its  entrance 
by  means  of  a  small  register  in  the 
wail.  This  register  was  exactly  oppo- 
site to  the  one  in  the  wall  of  the  ad- 
joining room,  and  the  occupant  of 
either  room  was  able,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  a  piece  of  wire  and  the  exercise 
of  a  little  ingenuity,  to  close  his  neigh- 
bours register,  and  thus  monopolize 
any  faint  suspicion  of  heat  that  might 
drift  that  way. 

The  old  bachelor  was  not  aware  ot 
this  fact  ;  but  it  struck  him  as  rather 
curious  that  if  he  left  his  register  open 
when  he  went  out,  he  always  found  it 
closed  on  his  return.     He  accused  the 

chambermaid  of  interfering  with  it,  but 
she  denied  having  done  so,  and  the 
denial  was  accompanied  with  a  know- 
ing twinkle  in  her  eye  which  was  com- 
pletely lost  upon  the  simple,  unsuspect- 
ing gentleman. 

The  room  which  adjoined  the 
"  Klondike "  was  occupied  by  two 
maiden  ladies,  sisters.  They  were 
not,  by  any  means,  old  maids  of  the 
Aunt  Acidula  type,  who  offer  up  a 
special  thanksgiving  if  some  unfortun- 
ate druggist  is  fined  for  selling  a  child 
a  cent's  worth  of  peppermint  drops  on 
the  Sabbath  day  ;  or  rejoice  with  pious 
joy  when  a  bar-tender  gets  into  trouble 
through  supplying  a  minor  with  a  glass 
of  ginger  ale.  On  the  contrary,  they 
enjoyed  their  game  of  whist,  were  not 
avCTse  to  a  glass  of  wine,  and  were 
very  tolerant  of  tobacco  ;  in  short,  they 
were  healthy,  cheerful,  good-hearted 
women  of  the  world.  But  they  were 
too  clever  for  their  bachelor  neighbour  ; 
until  one  day,  having  left  his  room  he 
suddenly  and  unexpectedly  returned, 
and  saw,  to  his  astonishment,  that  his 
register  was  slowly  but  surely  closing, 
and,  apparently,  of  its  own  accord. 
This  set  him  thinking  ;  and  he  deter- 
mined to  keep  a  careful  watch,  which 
resulted  in  his  making  a  discovery  that 
placed  him  in  rather  an  awkward  posi- 
tion.    Act  he  must,  and  at  once.     But 

Next  morning,  he  left  hts  room  as 
usual,  but  immediately  returned,  tread- 
ing gingerly  on  tip-toe,  and  sat  down 
to  await  developments. 

His  patience  was  not  taxed  long.  A 
faint,  tinkling  sound,  as  of  metal  upon 
metal,  directed  his  attention  to  the 
register.  There  he  saw  a  wire,  which 
even  his  inexperience  allowed  him  to 
recognize  as  that  useful  adjunct  of  a 
lady's  toilet,  a  hairpin,  carefully  insert- 
ed, and  the  register  was  gently  but 
firmly  closed. 

Later  on  in  the  day,  and  with  much 
trepidation,  he  knocked  at  the  ladies' 
door,  and  begged  the  loan  of  a  hairpin 
with  which  to  clean  his  pipe. 

His  request  was  promptly  and  cheer- 
fully granted,  and  he  retired  to  his  own 
quarters  with  his  prize.      How  he  used 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


it  the  following  verses,  which  in  some 
mysterious  maDoer  went  the  round  of 
the  boarding;  house  next  day,  will 
show  : 


Two-little  kiiteos,  so  frisky  and  ga.y. 
Kept  maiden's  bftll,  next  to  bachelor's  hall. 
The  poor  old  bachelor  heard  one  say  : 

"  Dear  sister  pussy,  it  is  not  meet 

That «  bachelor's  room  should  have  any  heat. 

Horrid  old  bachelor,  wicked  and  bold, 

And  two  Utile  pussy  cats  out  in  the  cold  ! 

I  think,  don't  you  ?  'twould  be  quite  fair 

To  shut  the  old  bachelor's  regfister. 

I've  thoug-ht  ofaplan  that  cannot  iail. 

Fasten  a  hair[Hn  onto  my  (ail, 

111  sit  with  my  back  to  the  bachelor's  wall, 

tiad  do  nothing  at  all.     Oh,  nothing-  at  all." 

But  the  wicked  old  bachelor,  sly  old  nun, 
Caught  on  to  the  pusay  cats'  neat  little  plan- 
One  morning  he  knocked  at  the  kittens'  door. 
And  borrowed  a  hairpin.     Then,  on  the  floor 
He  knelt  by  his  register,  chuckling  with  g-lee, 
"  niftaUn  my  rtgisUr  open,"  quoth  be. 
"  Bachelors  tiie  to  be  ■warm  -when  tkty'rt  old  ; 
The  place  fir  young  Ht/tni  is  out  in  the  cold." 
The  pussy  cats  looked  at  each  other  askew, 
And,  together,  they  uttered  a  plaintive  "  me- 

*'  Horrid  old  bachelor,  wicked  and  bold. 
And  two  little  pussy  cats  out  in  the  coldt" 

And  now,  enveloped  in  a  heavyulster, 
with  a  railway  rug  over  his  knees,  the 
old  bachelor  sits  and  smokes  his  pipe 
by  his  open  re^ster,  and  fondly  ima- 
gines he  is  warm. 

Sparkatn  Sheldrake. 

To  taste  the  sweets  of  stolen  fruit, 

As  m  have  often  done, 
Then  run  and  tell  his  playmates  all : 

"  At  supper  time  I  had  the  moslest  fun." 

Now  Johnny  is  a  grown  man, 

And  many  joys  has  he  ; 
For  aU  the  things  he  wants  are  his. 

And  yet,  withal,  it  is  most  strange  to  see  ; 

Than  all  things  else  that  Johnny  has 

Since  he  has  grown  up, 
He  dearly  loves  to  silly  lick 

The  sugar  at  the  bottom  of  the  cup. 


Aye,  Bobby  Burns,  your  o'er  smart  words 
Poppit  i'  my  head  ae  day — 

I'd  like  to  see  my  ain  true  sel' 
As  plain  as  a'  the  warld  may. 

I  wish't  lang;  a  wee  bit  speerit 
Cam  to  my  heddie  i'  the  nicht, 
Fu'  gracious  wi'  my  wishes  wild, 
An'  O  I  got  an  awfu'  fricht. 

For  as  I  look't  my  heart  grew  sair; 
A  grewsome  sicht  for  a'  my  pride 
'Twas  but  a  wee  bit  thing  I  saw — 
The  warld  kenl  nocht  o'  me,  McBride. 


Kind  Lady  to  Weeping  Child — 
"  Well,  little  girl,  are  you  lost?" 

Weeping  Child,  with  sudden  burst 
of  passion — "  Me  lost  1  You  silly  old 
thing  what  are  you  talking  about? — 
Look  at  me,  don't  you  see  I'm  right 
here? — It's  our  house  1  can't  find." 

When  Johnny  was  a  little  boy, 

'Bout  four  years  old  or  more, 
He  always  had  his  bread  and  milk 

At  sunset,  as  he  sat  beside  the  door. 

And  Johnny  used  to  holler  out 

When  he  had  ceased  to  sup, 
"  Say  mother  dear,  please  may  I  lick 

The  sugar  at  the  bottom  of  the  cup  ?  " 

His  mother  thought  it  wasn't  right 

Such  manners  bold  to  have, 
And  would  reprove  him  with  a  frown 

And  bid  him  mind  his  manners  and  behave. 

The  Canadian  Pacific  express  was 
wending  its  wonderful  way  throug^h 
some  of  the  most  impressive  defiles  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains — creeping  slowly 
around  sharp  curves,  clinging  to  the 
face  of  perpendicular  cliffs  like  a  cater- 
pillar on  the  wall,  stretching  its  length 
over  deep  gorges  and  tumultuous 
rivers,  laboriously  making  its  way  up- 
ward. It  was  a  long  train,  and  from 
the  Pullman  windows  the  engine  and 
forward  cars  could  often  be  seen  as  it 
doubled  on  its  tortuous  way.  Presently 
the  small  ^rl  who  bad  been  looking 

Digitized  byGoOgIc 



out,  turned  with  a  shrill  cry,  "Oh 
mother,  mother  I  Look  what  a  fearful 
place  the  engine's  %ova%  over  this  time  I 
My,  I  hope  the  cars  wont  follow  it  1 
Don't  you  ?" 

Visions  of  the  dire  possilnlities  of 
such  a  partings  of  company,  under  the 
circumstances,  delayed  for  a  moment 
the  amused  smiles  of  the  other  passen- 

Alice  Athworih. 


Uncertainty  that  was  Unpleasant. 
— Sir  William  MacCormac,  the  presid- 
ent of  the  Royal  Colleg'e  of  Surgeons 
of  London,  is  at  times  quite  absent- 
minded.  He  is  an  indefatigable  worker, 
and  often  to  save  time  when  studying 
in  his  laboratory,  has  a  light  luncheon 
served  there.  Once  his  assistants 
heard  him  sigh  heavily,  and  looking  up 
saw  the  doctor  glaring  at  two  glass 
receptacles  on  his  table.  "  What  is 
the  matter,  doctor  ? "  asked  one  of 
the  youngsters.  "  Nothing  in  partic- 
ular,"  was  the  reply,  "  only  I  am  un- 
certain whether  I  drank  the  beef  tea  or 
that  compound  1  am  working  on." 

Bbgcing  a  Privilege.  —  An  old 
farmer  who  was  in  the  habit  of 
eating  what  was  set  before  him,  ask- 
ing no  questions,  dropped  into  a  caf£ 
for  dinner.  The  waiter  gave  him  the 
dinner  card  and  explained  that  it  was 
the  list  of  dishes  served  for  dinner  that 
day.  The  old  gentleman  began  at  the 
top  of  the  bill  of  fare  and  ordered  each 
thing  in  turn  until  he  had  covered 
about  one-third  of  it.  The  prospect  of 
what  was  still  before  him  was  over- 
powering, yet  there  were  some  things 
at  the  end  that  he  wanted  to  try.  Fin- 
ally he  called  the  waiter,  and,  confid- 
entially marking  off  the  spaces  on  the 
card  with  his  index  finger,  said  : 
"  Look  here,  I've  et  from  thar  to  thar, 
can  I  skip  from  thar  to  thar  and  eat  on 
to  the  bottom  ?  " 

A  Change  of  Colour. — Sir  Al- 
gernon West's  "Recollections"  con- 
taias  this  amusing  anecdote.  A 
man  at  election  time  tried  to  sell 
some  kittens  with  blue  Tory  ribbons 
on,  and  failed.  The  next  day  he 
tried  to  sell  them  with  yellow  Liberal 
ribbons     on.        "Why,"    said     some 

one,  "they  were  Tories  yesterday!" 
"Yes,"  he  said,  "but  their  eyes  are 
opened  since  then,  and  they  have  be- 
come Liberals." 

A  Quiet  Retort. — To  a  young 
man  who  stood  on  the  street  cor- 
ner in  Chicago,  peaceably  smoking 
a  cigar,  approached  the  elderly  and 
impertinent  reformer  of  immemorial 
legend.  "  How  many  cigars  a  day 
do  you  smoke  ?  "  inquired  the  med- 
dler in  other  people's  affairs.  "Three," 
patiently  replied  the  youth.  "  How 
much  do  you  pay  for  them  ? "  con- 
tinued the  inquisitor.  "Ten  cents 
each,"  confessed  the  youthful  sinner. 
"  Don't  you  know,  sir,"  continued  the 
sage,  "  that  if  you  would  stop  smoking 
and  save  up  that  money,  by  the  time 
you  are  as  old  as  I  am  you  might  own 
that  big  building  on  the  corner  ? " 
"Do  you  own  it?"  answered  the 
smoker.  "No,  I  don't,"  replied  the 
old  man.  "Well,  I  do,"  said  the 
young  man. 

Creighton's  Discovery 
About  Hens.  — The  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, in  youth,  had  some  experience 
asafarmer.  Evidently  the  Bishopof  Lon- 
don's education  in  that  respect  was  neg- 
lected. In  the  account  of  one  of  his 
speeches  at  the  Church  Congress  he  is 
reported  as  saying  :  "  There  is  a  cer* 
tain  class  of  people  who  are  like  hens 
when  they  have  laid  an  tgg.  They 
form  their  opinion  with  such  difficulty, 
apparently,  and  so  seldom  that  when 
they  have  formed  one  they  go  and 
crow  to  all  the  world  to  show  that  they 
have  done  it."  We  would  respectfully 
advise  Dr.  Creighton  not  to  draw  an 
illustration  from  crowing  hens  if  he 
should  ever  be  addressing  a  rural  audi- 
ence.— Exchanges. 


Digitized  b,  Google 


out,  turned  with  a  shrill  cry,  "Oh 
mother,  mother  I  Look  what  a  fearful 
place  the  engine's  going  over  this  time  1 
My,  I  hope  the  cars  wont  follow  it  1 
Don't  you  ?" 


Visions    of  the  dire   possibilities  of 
such  a  parting  of  company,  under  the 
circumstances,  delayed  for  a  momen 
the  amused  smiles  of  the  other  passe 

AUce  Ask-aor\ 

Uncertainty  that  was  Unpleasant, 

— Sir  William  MacCormac,  the  presid- 
ent of  the  Royal  Collegre  of  Surgeons 
of  London,  is  at  times  quite  absent* 
minded.  He  is  an  indefatigable  worker, 
and  often  to  save  time  when  studying 
in  his  laboratory,  has  a  light  luncheon 
served  there.  Once  his  assistants 
heard  him  sigh  heavily,  and  looking  up 
saw  the  doctor  glaring  at  two  glass 
receptacles  on  his  table.  "What  is 
the  matter,  doctor  ? "  asked  one  of 
the  youngsters.  "  Nothing  in  partic- 
ular," was  the  reply,  "  only  I  am  un- 
certain whether  I  drank  the  beef  tea  or 
that  compound  I  am  working  on." 
Begging  a  Privilege.  —  An  old 
fanner  who  was  in  the  habit, 
eating  what  was  set  before^Jj^ 

The  Great  Stores 


The  Great  West 

Complete  Outfits  supplied  for 



Circular  Letters  of  Credit  issued  on  all  the 
Cornpany's  Posts. 

Further  particulars  on  application  to 


vrinnlpes,  Manitoba. 


one,  "they  were  Tori*' 
"Yes,"  he  said,  "bi 
opened  since  then,,],, 
come  Liberals.";    gtaidanl  for 

■       _  i        Parity  and 

A    QuiBT  ./        „     ,, 
**-  Excellence. 

^^s  than  one  cent  a  cup. 

impertin'        ^ 

legend.  "(terfaker&Co.Ltd. 

do  you  « 

p|^"J°j°^H(raM,  6  Hospital  Street  ; 




and  S3d  St.,  |I.T.  Cl^. 




ll    Ot  K 

Metropolis.  Eleclric on x<\  all  paru  at  the citj-paB id 
doOH.  The  slatioaa  of  the  6th  and  qlh  Av-enue  ^vainl 
Railway  ace  only  Iwo  blocks  diuant.  Peoi^e  «ho  ™it 
New  York  and  who  appreciate  eircluiiivenas  of  clieatele. 

talc,  win  find  all  of  them  a'tlh^mpire!"  "  "" 
EaropUB  Plu,  tl.M  per  Day  and  tJpnrd. 
Aourlcaa  Plan,  tS.SO  iKr  Day  and  Upward. 

Wrila  for  our  book.  "The  Empire  llluitrateil. ' 

W.  JOKNSON  QUINN.  Praprtolar. 




Indelible  and  Harmless 

On  any  Pabrlc 

iMA  LEETLE  CABANE-?^-'^?--°^y^-'^°- 


•  rvn    A   riM 

.A/COrv'riD-ril^V'PDAI     — Rv  «  Pnlilicfil   nj 





Distinguished  everywiiere  for  Delicacy 
of  Flavour,  Superior  Quality,  and 
highly  Hutritlve  Properties.  Specially 
grateful  and  comforting  to  tlie  ner- 
vous and  dyspeptic.  Sold  only  In 
Hb.  tins,  labelled  JAMES  EPPS  & 
CO.,  Ltd.,  Homeopathic  Chemists, 
London,  Eng., 





Pmervn.  Ndurishci.  Rntono.  ud  Enridn  Uh  Hair 

Bsldncu  an?  ^rf.  an3"i>  >Ih<  w^d1^GcJd*n  Colour 
fi>   Fair  oi  Gccy  Hair. 


Pcoduca  Sott.  Fair,  DsUaU  ^ 
Tan.  Sunbuni.  RxInH..  uid  Rouihne 

RadiaDt  Beautr  to  the  Cc — '- 

DeBcacy  to  tha  HaiuU  and 


WhiUiu  tha  TaMh.  Pnveata  Dacav,  Straac<b« 
Ounu,  and  Swntoiu  Ibc  Bniath.  Sold  W  Surta.  ( 
iata,  and  A.  ROWIAND  &  SONS,  Baltoa  Gi 


Horsford's  Acid  Phosphate 

The  most  efficient  remedy 
known  for  the  relief  of  languor 
and  exhaustion,  so  common  in 
the  spring  and  summer  months. 

Talcen  after  exhaustive  illness 
it  acts  as  a  wholesome  tonic, 
gfiving  renewed  strength  and 
vigor  to  the  entire  system. 

Taken  before  retiring,  quiets  the 
Mrvee  uid  Inducea  relreBhInt  sleep. 



H  you've  ever 


tried  Carling's 

Export  you 

know  the  reason 

why  Carling's  is 

the  standard  of 


excellence  in 

Canadian  brewing. 



f'-'^:-^               London        ^|| 

'' — 


Digitized  b,  Google 

Digitized  b,G00gle 

Canadian  Magazine 


By  Bleasdell  Cameron. 


ON  a  hot  day  in  July,  1881,  I  drop- 
ped into  a  wooden  restaurant  in 
the  wooden  town  of  Winnipeg'  and  sat 
down  at  a  very  wooden  table  with  a 
magenta  cover.  A  small  wiry  man 
opposite  at  once  attracted  my  at- 
tention. He  had  short,  bristling',  red 
hair  and  moustache,  aggressively  blue 
€yes  and  a  flaming  visage.  He  or- 
dered steak  ;  so  did  I.  When  it  came 
1  thought  the  pepper-box  had  been 
«niptied  ;  but  the  eyes  ol  the  little  red 
man  and  my  own  met  over  the  uninvit- 
ing griltii,  his  brows  narrowed  in  a 
comical  frown,  and  at  length  in  his 
smooth  southern  drawl  he  said  : 

"Do  you  allow  there's  likely  any- 
thing underneath  'em  ?  " 

"  If   there    is,    I    allow    a    coyote 
wouldn't  eat  it,"  I  returned;  and  we 
*:ach  pushed  aside  his  dish,  for  the  stuff 
was    black  with 

That  was  my  in- 
troduction to  Ad, 
McPherson  and  to 
a  class  of  season- 
ed frontiers -men 
■whose  calling 
brought  wealth  of 
g;old  and  lands  to 
many  of  them  in 
the  pioneer  days 
of  the  Canadian 
Northwest.  Mc- 
Pherson   had     ar-  wi 

rived  a  week  or  two  before  with  his 
outfit  of  oxen  and  ponies  from  the 
North  Saskatchewan  River,  and  would 
shortly  return.  I  was  bound  west  my- 

"Vou  can  travel  with  us,  and  wel- 
come," he  said  to  me.  "  I'm  leaving 
next  week  with  sixty  loaded  carts — 
freight  for  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company 
at  'Edmington.'  But  bring  a  rifle. 
Don't  forget  a  rifle.  It'll  be  a  mighty 
useful  thing  to  have  along  if  old  Sit- 
tin'  Bull's  people  swoop  down  on  us 
some  mornin'  about  the  Touchwood 

And  there  was  a  suspicious  twinkle 
in  his  blue  eyes  as  he  said  this,  for  I 
was  very  young,  and  wore  a  leather 
belt  with  a  nice  new  knife  and  untar- 
nished six-shooterlooking  ostentatious- 
ly out  of  it ;  and  he  saw  that  i  knew  all 
that  there  was  to  know  about  Indians. 




If  you  look  up  a  picture  of  a  Red 
River  cart,  you  will  see  the  sort  of 
vehicle  used  by  the  old-time  freighter 
to  transport  merchandise  from  Winni- 
peg over  the  thousand-mile  cart  trail  to 
Edmonton.  Every  pound  cost  the  Sas- 
katchewan merchant  ten  cents  in  freight 
for  the  distance — a  cent  for  each  hun- 
dred miles.  Fancy  a  barrel  of  salt, 
worth  perhaps  fifty  cents  at  the  works, 
the  freight  on  which  from  Winnipeg 
increased  its  value  by  thirty  dollars. 

Freighters  left  Edmonton  as  soon  in 
spring  as  the  grass  was  green,  and 
journeyed    leisurely   with    their  loose 

to  nine  hundredweight.  Snow  some- 
times lay  on  the  ground  and  the 
streams  ran  thick  with  ice  before  Ed- 
monton was  reached  on  the  return. 
May,  June,  July,  August,  September 
and  frequently  October  were  consumed 
in  the  round  trip. 

Edmonton  merchants  are  not  pay- 
ing ten  cents  a  pound  any  more  for 
freight  on  their  goods  from  Winni- 
peg, For  eight  years  the  terminus 
of  the  Calgary  &  Edmonton  branch  of 
the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway  has  not 
been  in  Edmonton  at  all,  but  in  Strath- 
cona,  which  is  on  the  opposite  (south) 


animals,  and  a  cart  or  two  for  the  camp 
outfit,  to  Winnipeg.  It  was  a  ten 
weeks*  trip.  They  purchased  their 
carts  and  harness  from  the  Red  River 
half-breeds.  No  iron  entered  into  the 
composition  of  these  carts,  but  only 
oak.  The  wheels,  even,  were  tireless. 
If  a  cart  broke  down  it  was  easily  re- 
paired ;  a  splint  or  two  wound  and 
bound  with  rawhide  did  the  trick.  An 
extra  axle,  lashed  beneath  each  cart, 
was  ready  to  replace  a  worn  one.  An 
ox  would  keep  fat  in  front  of  a  thou- 
sand pounds  walking  fifteen  miles  a 
day  ;  a  pony  was  good  for  from  seven 

side  of  the  North  Saskatchewan  River. 
A  bridge  is  now  being  built  across  the 
river  so  that  trains  may  run  into  that 
growing  town.  The  bridge  is  a  traffic 
as  well  as  a  railway  bridge,  and  its  im- 
portance to  the  town  may  be  gathered 
from  the  fact  that  Edmonton  gave 
$25,000  to  the  Government  towards  its 
construction.  Daily  trains  are  expect- 
ed in  Edmonton  during  1900. 

Justwhat  the  age  of  Edmonton — Fort 
Edmonton — is,  1  have  been  unable  to  as- 
certain.  At  least  a  century  has  elapsed 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


since     the    Hudson's    Bay    Company 
established  itself  on  the  Upper  Saskat- 
chewan, for  there  was   a  fort  there  in 
1799.      It  was    named,    I    understand, 
from  a  chief  factor  of  the  Company. 
The  present  fort  was  built  about  fifty 
years  ago.      It  has  a  commanding  posi- 
tion on  the  north  bank  of  the  river. 
When  I  Rrstsawit,  the  buildings  were 
enclosed   by  a  high  stockade  with   a 
bastion  at  each  of  the  four  cor- 
ners, but  as  will  be  seen  from 
the  accompanying  photograph, 
all  of  these  defensive  structures 
have  been  cleared  away,  as  use- 
less    encumbrances.      Yet    the 
time  has  not  long  passed  since 
they  were  considered  highly  ne- 
cessary.    During    the  troubles 
of  1885  the  settlers  of  the  dis- 
trict flocked  for  safety    to    the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company's  fort, 
and    no    later    than    1869    the 
Blackfeet,  under  Old  Sun.    at- 
tacked the  place  in  force  from 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river, 
the  water  being  high  and  cros- 
sing difficult.     They    failed    to 
draw  any  response  to  their  fire 
from  the  besieged,  and  the  near- 
est approach  they  achieved  to 
hurting    anybody    consisted    in 
shooting  Mr.  David  McDougall 
through  the  coat.     However,  it 
might  easily  have  been  very  dif- 
ferent had  not  the  garrison  had 
ivarning  or  had  the  place  not 
been  a  fort  in  fact  as  well  as  in 
name.      I    have    talked    with  a 
number  of  the  Company's  offi- 
cers who  were  present   at  this 
"siege"  and  have  seen  the  two 
tittle  brass  cannons  which  were 
ready    loaded    and  would  have 
been  emptied  into  the  Blackfeet 
had  not  the  sage  judgment  of  the  chief 
factor  in  charge  prevented. 

In  i8Sa  there  were  on  the  present 
town  site  of  Edmonton,  exclusive  of  the 
fort,  exactly  one  dozen  buildings,  pri:i- 
cipally  of  logs.  To-day  Edmonton  has 
a  population  of  3,000,  electric  light, 
telephone,  ten  miles  of  sidewalk,  dye 

works,  pork-packing  corporation,  four 
hotels,  four  newspapers,  two  charter- 
ed banks,  two  wholesale  warehouses, 
five  churches,  public  school,  Roman 
Catholic  school,  general  hospital,  soda- 
water  factory,  two  breweries,  fire  hall, 
four  implementwarehouses,  sixty  stores 
and  shops,  and  members  of  all  the 

Edmonton    has  a  flour   mill  with  a 

capacity  of  zoo  barrels  daily,  and  two 
large  saw  mills.      On  the  south  side  of 

the  river  there  are  two  more  flour  mills, 
withajoint  capacity  of  300  barrels;  two 
elevators  and  an  oatmeal  mill.  At  Fort 
Saskatchewan,  20  miles  down  the  river, 
there  are  also  two  grist  mills,  with  a 
joint  capacity  of  250  barrels;  and  scat- 
tered through  the  surrounding  country 
a  number  of  others 



In  1898  Edmonton  exported  1,000,- 
000  bushels  of  gi'^'i-  The  crop  for 
1899  is  estimated  at  over  2,000,000 
bushels.  The  mines  of  British  Colum- 
bia and  the  northern  fur-trade  furnish 
a  reliable  market  for  all  surplus  pro- 

Edmonton  has  a  fine  public  school, 
brick,  built  three  years  ago.  The  at- 
tendance has  increased  so  rapidly, 
however,  that  already  it  has  become 
altogether  too  small,  and  next  summer 
an  addition,  with  eight  rooms,  will  be 
built.     At    present  eight   teachers  are 

dians  of  the  Mackenzie,  Peace,  Yukon 
and  Athabasca  River  districts  packs 
ofbeaver,  bear,  fisher,  fox,  lynx,  mar- 
ten, mink,  otter,  skunk,  wolf,  wolver- 
ine and  muskrat  pelts,  in  great  num- 
ber and  of  princely  worth,  found  their 
way  over  the  mighty  water-routes  of 
the  North  to  Fort  Edmonton.  From 
hence  these  packs  and  robes  went 
down  the  Saskatchewan  in  York  boats. 
to  be  loaded  upon  the  "Company's 
Ship"  in  Hudson's  Bay,  and  ultimately 
sorted  and  sold  in  the  fur  market  <:'( 
the  world,   London. 

e   I^NDINC"   ON    T 

employed.    The  Roman  Catholic  school 
employs  three  additional  teachers. 

To  the  fur  trade,  of  course,  Edmon- 
ton originally  owes  its  existence,  as 
this  industry  is,  even  to  the  present, 
one  of  the  town's  chief  sources  of 
revenue  and  prosperity.  In  early  days 
immense  quantities  of  buffalo  robes 
were  here  gathered  by  the  Hudson's 
Bay  Company  from  the  Crees,  Black- 
feet,  and  other  tribes  of  Indians,  who 
warred  and  bunted  on  the  Great  Plains 
to  the  south  ;  while  from  the  Wood  In- 

To-day  Edmonton  is  the  largest  raw 
fur  depot  in  Canada.  It  is  still — in- 
deed more  than  ever — the  pfateway  of 
the  North.  Ninety  miles  of  good 
waggon-road  connect  it  with  "The 
Landing  "of  the  Athabasca,  whence 
steamers  ply  almost  without  interrup- 
tion to  the  estuary  of  the  Mackenzie, 
far  within  the  Arctic  Circle. 

It  would  be  unsafe  to  speculate  on 
the  value  of  furs  now  annually  mar- 
keted at  Edmonton,  but  there  is  no 
doubt  that  a-quarter  of  a  million  dol- 
lars would  not  pay  for  them.  Several 
of  the  more  enterprising  of  the  "free" 



agent  of  Winnipeg 
J  merchants,  and  Mr. 

Secord  in  the  early 
8o's,  as  teacher  of 
an  Indian  school. 

Messrs.  McDou- 
gall  &  Secord  en- 
joy the  distinction 
of  having  received 
the  highest  price 
ever  paid  in  the 
London  fur  market 
for  a  silver  fox  pelt 
— £340.  It  was  a 
pure  black,  and  one 
of  the  most  beauti- 
ful skins  seen  in  re- 
cent years.  The 
purchasers  secured 
it  to  be  mounted  for 
the    Paris    Exposi- 

One  of  the  illus- 

BDMONTOS— THE  GEHERAL   HOSPITAL.  tratiOUS       shoWS      a 

company  of  free- 
traders in  the  North — that  is,  those  traders  embarking  at  "The  Landing" 
not  in  the  service  of  the  Hudson's  of  the  Athabasca  with  their  outfits  for 
Bay  Company — atone  secure  as  much  the  North ;  also  the  Hudson's  Bay 
as  $30,ooo  to  $30,000  worth  of  pel-  Company's  steamer  Athabasca. 
tries    in  a    single    season.      The    big 

Company's  furs    are    all    marketed  in  "  GOLD  !  GOLD  !  GOLD  ! 

London,  and  those  gathered  at   their  The  discovery  of  gold  in  the  sand- 

northern  posts  do 
not,  therefore,  en- 
ter  into  this  con-  ' 
sideration.     Most 

of  the  leading  fur  I 

dealers     of    Lon-  I 

doD,  Europe   and  '. 

the  United  States 
are  represented  at 
Edmonton  by  es- 
tablished buyers. 
Of  local  pur- 
chasers, perhaps, 
the  firm  of  Mc- 
Dougall&  Secord, 
heads  the  list.  The 
gentlemen  com- 
posing the  firm  are 
both  old  "  North- 
westers," Mr.  Mc- 
Dougall  having 
come  to  Edmon- 
ton in  1876  as  the  cvtting  wheat  ni 

Digitized  by  Google 

bars  of  the  North  Saskatchewan  about  "  Clover  Bar,"  which  still  designates  a 
1862  gave  a  fresh  impetus  of  growth  strip  of  sand  in  the  river  bed  twelve 
to  the  embryo  settlement,  which  had  miles  below  Edmonton,  where  it  i.s 
already  begun  to  gather  round  the  presumed  the  esteemed  Mr.  Clover 
isolated  fur-post.  The  discovery  is  first  washed  out  his  "  colours."  News 
credited  to  a  knight  of  the  school  of  the  find  spread  fast,  and  men  flocked 
named  Clover,  whose  fragrantly  sug-  into  the  country  from  all  the  "busted" 
gestive  appellation  and  meritorious  mioing-campsof  the  West — from  Idaho, 
achievement  are  embalmed  in  the  title      Montano,  Nevada,  California,  Oregon, 

and  British  Colum- 
_  _  ..  bia.      One     of   the 

first  to  arrive  was 
i  James   Gibbons, 

who  travelled  with 
three  companions 
from  the  present 
site  of  Fort  Steele, 
in  the  Kootenay, 
through  the  Kick- 
ing-Horse  Pass  to 
the  head-waters  of 
the  Bow  River. 
This  stream  they 
I  mistook  for    the 

I  North     Saskatche- 

They  found  and 
buried  four  white 
men,  who  had  been 
killed  by  Indians, 
and  lived  for  a  lime 

\    \UNKR    WAShllNli   liOU.   WITH    A    "<  RlZ/1  V      ON   THE  O"       horse-flssh. 

SASKATCHRWAN. Whcrc     CalgaTv 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



now    is    they    found    an    Indian   trail, 
which  they  followed.      Near    the    Red 
Deer  River  they  were  set  afoot  by  the 
Blackfeet,  and  when  they  later  stum- 
bled upon  the  "Rocky  Mountain  Fort  " 
of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  on  the 
Upper  Saskatchewan  they  had  been  for 
two  days  without  food.     They  reached 
Edmonton  finally  late  in  the  fall  of  1864. 
For   several    seasons    Mr,    Gibbons 
mined  on  the  river,    making  as    high 
as  $20  and   more  in  a  day's   panning. 
Then  he  settled    down  to   farming  in 
the  Saskatchewan    valley.     Of  recent 
years   he  has  been    engaged   in   busi- 
ness in  Edmonton,  and  is    at    present 
m  e  n  t 
I  ndian 
for    the 

ing  his 

and    the 

tudes  of 
his  early 
life  Mr. 
and  vtg-- 

on  the  Saskatchewan  has  been  fol- 
lowed with  profit  each  summer  since 
186.1,  and  while  the  cream  of  the 
precious  deposits  has,  of  course,  long 
since  been  gathered,  miners  seem 
well  content  to  wash  along  on  skim- 
mings of  five  dollars  per  day  — 
which,  indeed,  considering  the  infi- 
nitely reduced  cost  of  living,  is  prob- 
ably quite  equal  in  purchasing  power 
to  the  twenty  dollars  of  thirty  years 
■A^o,  when  sugar  cost  fifty  cents  a 
pound  and  fiour  six  pounds  sterling  a 
hundredweight.  A  picture  on  another 
page  page  shows  a  miner  at  work  last 

summer  with  a  "  Grizzly."  A  second 
illustration  affords  a  view  of  the  river, 
of  a  gold  dredge  at  work,  the  piers  of 
the  new  bridge,  and  a  distant  glimpse 
of  the  town.  Mining  with  dredges 
has  not  so  far  proved  much  of  a  suc- 
cess on  account  of  the  great  difficulty 
of  saving  all  the  gold,  which  is  "flake" 
and  very  light.  This  difficulty  it  is  be- 
lieved will  in  time  be  surmounted.  At 
present  there  are  three  dredges  on  the 
river,  one  of  which  is  said  to  have  cost 
some  $50,000. 

It    is  estimated  that    at    least  S3,- 
000,000    has    been     taken    from    the 
golden  bed  of  the   Saskatchewan   near 
ton si  nee 






lain  with 

IIAN    SCENR   NKAR    EDMONTON.  ofbelief, 

yet  it  is 
practically  true.  Within  a  radius  of 
fifly  miles  I  have  myself  knowledge  of 
the  existence  of  twenty  seams.  Five 
of  these  are  located  in  the  face  of  the 
river-bank  beneath  the  town.  Coal  is 
delivered  anywhere  in  Edmonton  at  an 
average  price  of  two  dollars  per  Ion. 
It  is  a  lignite  of  first  quality,  and  ad- 
mirably suited  to  all  domestic  as  well 
as  to  manufacturing  uses.  The  sup- 
ply is  simply  inexhaustible. 

In  the  matter  of  natural  resources, 
the  Edmonton  district  has  indeed  been 
generously  endowed. 

Tracts  of  spruce,  sufficient  in  extent 




to  furnish  all  the  lumber  likely  to  be 
required  by  the  settlers  for  years,  are 
found  in  various  parts  of  the  country. 
Poplar  and  tamarac  are  also  plentiful. 

Whitefish  abound  in  the  larger 
lakes  tributary  to  the  Saskatchewan, 
and  are  sold  in  Edmonton  at  a  moder- 
ate price.  Salmon-trout  are  also  found 
in  some  of  the  lakes. 

For  some  years  boring  for  petroleum 
has  been  carried  on  along  the  Sas- 
katchewan and  Athabasca  Rivers 
under  the  direction  of  Mr,  W,  A, 
Fraser,  the  Government  engineer  and 
well-known  Canadian  writer  ;  and  while 
the  result  of  these  experiments  does 
not  seem  to  be  fully  known  here,  it  is 
the  opinion  of  some  of  the  old  residents 
who  have  given  attention  to  the  subject 
that  oil  will  be  struck,  and  in  places 
quite  near  to  town,  which  have  not 
yet  been  tested  for  it.  Natural  gas 
has  been  found  both  on  the  Saskatch- 
ewan and  the  Athabasca. 

Of  game  there  is  no  stint.  A  glance 
at  the  "  Moose  in  harness  "  affords  in- 
controvertible evidence  that  the  mon- 
arch of  the  Canadian  woods  is  not  yet 
merely  a  legend  along  the  Saskatch- 
ewan. In  addition  to  moose,  there 
are  elk,  blacktail  deer,  bear,  musk-ox 
and  cariboo  in  the  North,  antelope  in 
the  South,  and  prairie  chicken,  par- 
tridge, hare,  duck,  geese,  snipe  and 
plover  in  season  everywhere.  The 
country  may  truly  be  called  the  sports- 
man's paradise. 

But  if  Nature  has  dealt  prodigally 
by  the  Saskatchewan  on  the  lines  al- 
ready enumerated,  what  shall  one  say 
of  the  soil,  the  climate  and  the  park- 
like beauty  of  its  landscapes!  These, 
surely,  arc  her  crowning  gifts.  Sta- 
tistics concerning  the  yields  of  wheat. 
oats  and  barley  in  favorable  seasons 
are  such  as  would  pass  the  belief  of 
the  sceptical,  so  I  shall  refer  them  re- 
spectfully to  the  Edmonton  Board  of 
Trade.  Small  fruits  in  infinite  vari- 
ety— including  strawberries — are  suc- 
cessfully   cultivated.     Many    of  these 

nourish  in  a  wild  state.  In  summer 
the  prairies  are  a  bed  of  roses — and 
this  is  no  idle  figure  of  speech.  Al- 
most all  vegetables  grow  to  perfection. 
i  have  been  told  by  old  settlers  that 
Edmonton  has  never  known  a  complete 
failure  of  crops  ;  that  though  frost  or 
hail  may  occasionally  work  some  dam- 
age, the  farmers  have  always  reaped 
what  would  be  considered  a  fair  har- 
vest in  the  thickly-seilled  pans  of  the 
East.  This  land  is  a  virgin  land,  and 
the  fruits  it  bears  are  the  perfect  flower 
of  its  strong  new  blood. 

Bees  do  well ;  and  while  this  indus- 
try is  yet  in  its  infancy,  a  large  quan- 
tity of  honey  is  now  annually  mar- 
keted at  Edmonton. 

Stock-raising  is  extensively  engaged 
in  about  Kdmonton  as  in  most  other 
sections  of  the  Northwest.  Wild  hay, 
the  product  of  the  native  grasses,  is 
anywhere  to  be  had  in  abundance  for 
the  cutting.  The  manufacture  of  but- 
ter is  an  unfailing  source  of  income  to 
the  farmer.  Country-bred  horses  not 
in  use  paw  their  own  living  through- 
out the  winter  and  keep  fat, thedry,  light 
snow  seldom  covering  the  nutritious 
sun-cured  grasses  more  than  -a  few 

A  word  as  to  climate.  It  is  true 
that  the  winters  are  often  cold,  some- 
times long.  But  they  are  very  dry, 
the  sun  is  rarely  hidden,  the  warm  west 
wind— -the  Chinook — frequently  blows ; 
and  that  they  are  extremely  healthful 
is  established  beyond  dispute.  Infec- 
tious diseases  are  almost  unknown,  the 
pure  air  is  a  balm  toweak  lungs,  and  this 
is  essentially  a  country  of  vigorous  old 
age.  The  winters  may  be  said,  roundly, 
to  last  from  the  ist  of  December  to 
the  istof  April,  though  there  are  occa- 
sionally earlier  storms,  and  Winter 
sometimes  lingers  in  the  lap  of  Spring. 
Summer  comes  on  rapidly,  and  the 
land  glows  with  blossoms.  The  days 
are  long;  the  sun  is  strong  and  bright, 
and  vegetation  seems  almost  tropical 
in  the  rankness  and  the  rapidity  of  its 
growth.  Probably  there  are  no  more 
splendid    summers     anywhere    in    the 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



world  than  upon  the  Saskatchewan. 
Septemberchanges  all.  The  berries  on 
the  rose-bushes  hang-  like  drops  of 
blood — all  else  is  gold  and  deepest  blue. 
The  grass,  the  stubble,  the  leaves  upon 
the  aspens — all  are  a  golden  yellow  ; 
and  out  of  the  cloudless  sky  the  autumn 
sun  floods  all  the  land  with  yellow  bril- 
liance. Only  the  majestic  Saskatche- 
wan reflects  the  sky  as  it  rolls  between 
its  high  and  wooded  banks,  and  here 
and  there  a  little  lake  whispers  and 
dances  in  the  mellow  light.  The  land 
is  then  a  land  of  enchantment. 


Some  idea  of  the  rapidity  with  which 
territory  is  being  occupied  in  this  region 
of  the  Northwest  may  be  gained  from 
the  following  list  of  settlements  tribu- 
tory  to  Edmonton,  most  of  them  estab- 
lished within  the  past  ten  years  : — St. 
Albert,  Sturgeon  River,  Morinville, 
Glengarry,  Fort  Saskatchewan,  Clover 
Bar,  Edna,  Belmont,  Horse  Hill, 
Beaver  Lake,  Beaver  Hills,  Black 
Mud.  Rabbit  Hills,  Victoria,  Egg  Lake 
and  Stony  Plains.  The  latter,  it  may 
be  explained,  does  not  derive  its  name 
from  any  obduracy  of  the  soil,  but  from 
a  band  of  Assinibotne  or  Stony  Indi- 
ans, upon  whose  reservation  the  lands 
of  the  settlers  border. 

It  is  estimated  that  the  agricultural 
population  of  the  Edmonton  district 
now  numbersat  least  15,000  souls. 

The  principal  towns  along  the  line 
of  the  Calgary  and  Edmonton  Railway 
are  Wetaskiwin,  Leduc,  Lacombe,  Red 
Deer,  Olds  and  Innisfail,  All  are  cen- 
tres of  flourishing  settlements. 

In  the  winter  of  1883-4,  when  I  first 
passed  over  the  trail  now  traversed  by 
this  road,  there  were  just  four  isolated 
shacks  along  its  two  hundred  miles 
where  one  could  get  a  meal  or  spread 
his  blankets.  Most  of  the  nights  we 
camped  in  the  snow. 

The  Northwest  is  well  supplied  with 

hospitals,  and  Edmonton  is  not  behind 
other  Western  cities  in  this  respect. 
The  building  is  of  brick— made  in  Ed- 
monton^and  was  instituted  and  is 
managed  by  the  Grey  Sisters  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church.  It  Is  steam- 
heated,  lighted  by  electricity,  and  will 
accommodate  two  hundred  patients  of 
both  sexes.  The  sick  of  all  denomina- 
tions are  admitted,  those  not  able  to 
pay  free  of  charge ;  and  there  are 
several  handsomely-furnished  private 
wards.  A  convent,  costing  $50,000, 
for  the  education  of  young  children,  . 
adjoins  the  hospital,  and  a  fine  brick 
church,  in  the  Romanesque  style,  will 
be  completed  this  summer.  A  second 
general  hospital  is  projected. 

One  of  Edmonton's  most  revered  in- 
stitutions is  the  Old  Timers'  Associa- 
tion, composed  exclusively  of  men  who 
reached  the  Territories  prior  to  1884 
and  are  now  residents  of  Edmonton. 
The  annual  ball  of  the  association  is 
the  great  social  feature  of  the  year.  A 
miner's  log  cabin  is  erected  on  the 
stage  at  the  end  of  the  hall  ;  shovels, 
gold  pans  and  benches  are  scattered 
artistically  before  it,  and  the  walls  of 
the  hall  are  draped  with  silver  foxes, 
musk  ox  and  other  rare  furs  to  the 
value  of  thousands  of  dollars.  Mr. 
James  Gibbons,  to  whom  reference  has 
already  been  made,  was  the  first  pre- 
sident of  the  Association. 

Commercial  men  say  that  Edmonton 
is  the  best  town  for  business  between 
Winnipeg  and  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  comparing  its  present  with  its 
past — -the  isolated  fur-post  of  the6o's, 
a  name  on  a  map,  surrounded  by  sav- 
ages, with  the  fine  modern  town  of  to- 
day, its  vast  natural  resources  and  un- 
failing home  market — one  is  tempted 
to  faith  in  the  creed  of  its  citizens 
which  affirms  that  in  ten  years  Edmon- 
ton will  be  one  of  the  greatest  and 
most  prosperous  of  Canadian  cities. 

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■:■=-::.    ^y      ^iil/'am Heniy Drumni6^^^, 

e  happier  dan  de 

ttin'  to-night  on  ma  leetle  caba 


ev'ry  corner's  ringir'  out  wit'  musique  de  ole  stove  sing. 

de  cry  of  de  winter  win',  for  de  storm  gate's  open  wide, 

I  don't  care  not'ing  for  win'   or  storm  so  long  I  was  sn 


n  chiei 

put  your  head  i 

,  let 

chase  de  moose  back  on  de  Lac  Souris, 
i'  we  los'  ourse'f  til!  morning  is  bring 

'member  de  tarn 

de  light, 

t'iiik  we  got  place  to  sleep,  mon  chien,  lak  de  place  we  got 

here  to-night. 

Onder  de  roof  of  de  leetle  cabane,  w'ere  fire  she's  blazin'  high 
An'  bed  I  mak'  of  de  spruce  tree  branch,  is  lie  on  de  floor  close 
O  !  1  lak  de  smell  of  dat  nice  fresh  bed,  an'  I  dream  of  de  summer 

I         ,,;i-  ■'■^■•^     ■  '^"'  ^^  spot  w'ere  de  beeg  trout  jomp  somoche  down  by  de  lum- 

_  "?,;  y"/'  ber  dam  ! 

■■.■,■■;,'■:■.:■/  ^"'  lissen  dat  win',  how  she  scream  outside  !  mak'  me  t'lok  of  de 

■■.-!:■■■";;  V,  -""■  "  loup  garou, 

■■.;  W'y  to-night,  mon  chien,  1  be  feelin'  glad  if  even  de  Carcajou 

'  ■;'  Diin't  ketch  hese'f  on  de  trap  I  set  to-day  on  de  Lac  Souris 

Let  heem  wait  till  to-morrow,  an'  den  if  he  lak,  I  geev'  heem 
good  chance,  sapree  ! 

1  see  beeg  cloud  w'en  I'm  out  to-day,  off  on  de  Nor'  Eas"  sky 

An'  she  block  de  road,  so  de  cloud  behin'  don't  get  a  chance  passin'  by, 

An'  1  t'ink  of  boom  on  de  grande  riviere,  w'en  log's  fillin'  up  de  bay. 

Wall !  sam'  as  de  boom  on  de  spring-tam  flood,  dat  cloud  she  was  sweep  away  ! 

Dem  log's  very  nice  an'  quiet,  so  long  as  de  boom's  all  right. 

But  soon  as  de  boom  geev'  way,  I'enfant  !  it's  den  is  begin  de  fight  ! 

Dey  ronne  de  rapido,  an' jomp  de  rock,  dey  leap  on  de  air  an'  dive, 
Can  hear  dem  roar  from  de  reever  shore,  jus'  lak  dey  was  all  alive  ! 



An'  dat  was  de  way  wit'  de  cloud  to-day,  de  res'  of  dem  push  aside, 

For  dey're  comin'  fas'  from  de  cole  Nor'  Eas'  an'  away  t'roo  de  sky  dey  ride, 

Shakin'  de  snow  as  along  dey  go,  lak  grain  from  de  farmer's  han', 

Till  to-murrow  you  can't  see  not'ing  at  all,  but  smoke  of  de  leetle  cabane. 

I'm  glad  we  don't  got  no  chimney,  only  hole  on  de  roof  up  dere. 

An'  spark  fly  off  on  w'ole  of  de  worl',  so  dere's  no  use  gettin'  scare, 

Mus'  get  more  log,  an'  it's  locky  too,  de  wood  pile  is  stannin'  near 

So  blow  away  storm  !  for  harder  you  go,  de  warmer  she's  comin'  here. 

I  wonder  how  dey  get  on,  monchien,  off  on  de  great  beeg  town. 

Were  house  is  so  high,  near  touch  de  sky,  mus'  be  danger  of  fallin'  down  ! 
An'  worser  too  on  de  night  iak  dis,  ketchin'  dat  terrible  win', 

0  !  leetle  small  place  lak  de  ole  Cabane  was  de  right  place  for  stayin'  in  ! 

I  s'pose  dey  got  plaintee  bodder  too,  dem  feller  dat's  be  riche  man, 

For  dey're  never  knowin'  w'en  t'ief  may  come  an'  steal  all  de  t'ing  he  can  ; 

An'  de  monee  was  kip  dem  busy  too,  watchin'  it  night  an'  day, 

Dunno  but  w'ere  better  off  here,  mon  chien,  wit'  beeg  city  far  away. 

For  I  look  on  de  corner  over  dere,  an'  see  it  ma  birch  canoe, 

1  look  on  de  wall  w'ere  ma  rifle  hang  along  wit'  de  good  snowshoe, 
An'  everyt'ing  else  on  de  worl'  I  got,  sate  on  dis  place  near  me 

An'  here  you  are  too,  ma  brave  ole  dog,  wit'  your  nose  up  agen  my  knee. 

An'  here  we  be  stay  t  roo  de  summer  day  w'en  ev'ry  t  ing's  warm  an'  bright, 
On  de  winter  too  w'en  de  stormy  win'  blow  lak  she  blow  to-night  ; 

Let  dem  stay  on  de  city  on  great  beeg  house  dem  feller  dat's  be  riche 

For  w'ere  happy  an'  satisfy  here,  mon  chien,  on  our  own  leetle  small  cabane. 

Digitized  by  Google 


3:  .> 






Digitized  b,G00gle 


By  Walter  C.  Nichol,  Editor  Vancouver  "Provittce." 

MY  wife  said  ia  her  haste  that  never 
under  any  circumstances  would  she 
employ  a  Chinese  domestic ;  but  British 
Columbia  women,  like  the  women  of 
the  east,  sometimes  change  their  minds. 
His  name  was  Chow.  He  was  short, 
loose-jointed,  g^arrulous  when  with  his 
fellows  and  jabbering  in  his  native 
tongue ;  quiet  and  uncommunicative 
about  the  house.  He  was  "heap  good 
cook,"  he  said,  and  he  understood 
enough  English  to  undertake  to  sweep, 
dust,  keep  the  Soors  polished,  light 
fires,  and  do  the  cooking  and  plain 
washing  for  $25  a  month.  We  subse- 
quently discovered  that  if  we  asked  him 
to  do  anything  outside  of  the  duties  he 
had  undertaken  at  the  start,  his  know- 
ledge of  the  vernacular  deserted  him. 
"Me  no  sabe" — pronounced  sabee 
with  the  a'  long — be  would  say  in  that 
low,  plaintive  voice  of  his,  and  it  was 
quite  impossible  to  make  him  "  sabe  " 
unless  he  was  promised  another  dollar 
a  month.  The  moment  that  was  con- 
ceded he  was  no  longer  a  missing 
word  contest. 

Chow  came  in  the  early  fall.  There 
was  one  in  the  house  who  had  not  been 
there  very  long  before  Chow  arrived, 
and  the  two  became  fastfriends  at  once. 
The  baby  would  toddle  to  Chow  in  all 
confidence  and  Chow  would  smile  back 
and  permit  the  wee  one  to  pull  his  pig- 
tail, an  indignity  which  if  attempted  by 
a  white  man,  would  have  provoked  a 
fight.  There  was  something  human  in 
Chow  after  all.  My  wife  had  doubted 
it  of  all  Chinamen  before,  but  when 
she  saw  the  cordial  terms  existing  be- 
tween Chow  and  His  Royal  High- 
ness,: she  admitted  that  Chow  must 
have  some  good  in  him  somewhere. 
Perhaps  that  was  why  we  never  dared  to 
grumble  openly  when  Chow  insisted  on 
sweetening  the  coffee  with  syrup  before 
placing  it  on  the  breakfast  table,  and 
provided  so  well  for  those  of  his  friends 

who  were  out  of  work  and  wanted  food 
that  our  housekeeping  bills  ran  up  fifty 
per  cent,  a  month.  Privately  my  wife 
said  it  was  a  shame  and  1  felt  compelled 
to  admit  that  it  was,  but  we  could 
never  muster  sufficient  courage  to  take 
the  almond-eyed  humbug  by  the  throat 
and  force  him  to  have  a  little  more  con- 
sideration for  his  employers  and  a  little 
less  for  his  friends.  We  knew  that  all 
our  neighbours  who  employed  Chinese 
servants  were  being  robbed  in  the  same 
way,  and  we  felt  that  we  were  there  to 
be  robbed  and  that  the  proper  thing  for 
us  to  do  was  to  submit  to  the  inevit- 
able with  the  best  grace  possible. 

When  Saturday  night  came  Chow 
would  rush  through  his  dish- wash- 
ing and  present  himself  with  a  petition 
for  leave  to  go  down  town. 

"  Me  get  shabed,  all  same  bossee 
man,"  he  would  say,  "  and  see  flen  I 
come  back  bi  meby." 

"  You  come  back  get  breakfast  P  " 

"  What  time  bleakfas'?  " 

"  Nine  o'clock.  You  be  back  here 
about  half-past  seven  to  light  the  fires 
and  get  your  sweeping  and  dusting 
done  before  breakfast." 

"Me  no  sabe.  Me  come  back  bi 
meby,  mebbe  'leven,  mebbe  twelve 
o'clock  tomollow — no  ?  " 

"  No,  you  come  back  half-past 

"  Me  no  sabe  half-past  seven," 

"  Oh,  yes  you  do.  Half-past  seven, 
all  same  half  hour  later  than  you  lit 
fires  this  morning." 

"  Too  early.  No  stieet  call  so  ealy 
tomollow  molning." 

"Well,  you  come  back  or  I'll  get 
another  boy.  You  heap  bad  boy. 
Bossee  man  not  like  you  anymore." 

"  Ugh  ?  " 

It  was  the  stolid  grunt  of  the  Indian 
with  an  interrogation  thrown  in,  but 
the  threat  did  its  work.  Promptly  at 
half-past  seven  Chow  was  back  in  the 




kitchen.  It  was  quite  evident  that  he 
had  had  both  his  shave  and  a  night  of 
it,  for  there  are  Chinese  dens  in  Van- 
couver where  opium  is  smoked  and 
unspeakable  infamies  are  practised, 
and  no  matter  how  meek  and  mitd 
your  Chinaman  may  look,  'no  matter 
how  gentle  his  voice  and  confidiDg;  his 
manner,  Saturday  night  is  almost  cer- 
tain to  find  him  "  doped  "  in  his  bunk, 
weaving  dreams  under  the  poppy's 
subtle  spell.  From  this  debauchery 
he  arises  haggard  and  worn  in  the 
pale  dawn  and  returns  to  his  work 
with  a  million  memories  in  his  heavy 
eyes  and  about  him  the  painful  odour  of 
unutterable  things.  Somehow — how 
no  one  knows,  for  he  has  no  confi- 
dantes  among  Anglo-Saxons— he  gets 
through  his  morning's  tasks,  but  the 
afternoon  usually  finds  him  sleeping  on 
his  cot,  soothed  to  more  peaceful 
slumbers,  perhaps,  by  the  knowledge 
that  he  has  helped  himself  abundantly 
from  your  favourite  decanter  and  taken 
about  half  the  contents  of  your  tobacco 

Much  as  we  liked  Chow  for  his 
willingness  to  let  the  baby  play  with  his 
pigtail,  we  were  pained  to  observe  as 
time  went  on  that  there  was  always 
something  wrong.  He  not  only  stole 
everything  that  was  not  barred  and 
bolted  and  gfuarded  with  barbed  wire, 
but  he  was  forever  breaking  the  dishes 
or  setting  the  table  the  wrong  end  to, 
or  doing  something  that  he  shouldn't 
do.  If  we  had  people  in  to  dinner  he 
was  just  as  apt  to  begin  in  the  middle 
and  wind  up  with  the  soup.  He  knew 
better,  and  he  knew  we  knew  he  knew 
better,  but  if  anything  was  said  to 
him  a  pathetic  look  of  reproach  would 
creep  into  his  mild  eyes  and  he  would 
say  in  that  gentle  voice  of  his,  "Me 
no  sabe,"  and  it  was  impossible  to  do 
anything  with  him.  With  malice 
aforethought  he  would  give  the  joint 
to  my  wife  and  place  the  sweets  before 
me.  On  Christmas  Day  he  poured 
pudding  sauce  over  the  boiled  salmon 

and  had  raisins  scattered  through  the 
potatoes  ;  but  the  situation  reached 
the  climax  when  he  ruined  the  family 
stomach  by  providing  us  with  muttoa 
chops  nestling  in  pure  tobacco  sauce.  I 
have  had  some  warm  experiences  in  my 
life,  but  never  anything  like  this.  I 
wondered  as  I  turned  the  dose  down 
my  throat  what  it  was  that  I  had  done 
to  have  my  future  punishment  now. 

I  came  back  into  the  house  again, 
gasping,  perspiring  but  determined.  I 
was  not  angry,  I  was  not  even  agitated, 
but  I  was  firm.  I  had  an  axe  in  one 
hand  and  a  hatchet  in  the  other. 
"Chow,"  1  said,  "get  out.  Get  out 
quickly.  I  have  only  so  much  patience 
left,  and  when  that  is  exhausted,  I 
don't  know  what  may  happen.  Skip. 
Vamoose.     Go  ! " 

And  Chow  gathered  up  his  belong- 
ings in  a  wicker  luncheon  basket,  took 
three  sticks  of  kindling  wood  with 
him  as  a  souvenir  of  our  home,  and 

There  are  good  Chinese  servants,  1 
believe.  Some  people  here  swear  by 
them.  There  is  no  servant  like  a 
Chinese  servant  they  say,  when  you  get 
a  good  one  ;  and  that  is  possibly  true. 
My  own  experience  leads  me  to  believe 
that  the  good  Chinese  are  something 
like  the  good  Indians — dead.  Put  a 
Chinaman  in  a  position  where  he  can 
do  all  the  housekeeping  himself  and 
rob  you  without  restraint  and  without 
reproach  and  he  may  serve  you  admir- 
ably, doing  as  much  work  as  a  couple 
of  women,  and  doing  it  well.  Throw 
about  him  the  same  safeguards  that 
the  ordinary  housekeeper  throws  about 
her  domestics,  and  in  ninety-nine  cases 
out  of  a  hundred  he  will  make  your 
life  a  burden.  But  such  as  he  is,  he 
solves  the  great  servant-girl  problem 
in  British  Columbia,  for  there  are  no 
servant  girls  here,  and  without  him 
housekeeping  would  be  an  impossi- 

Vancouver,  B.C. 

Digitized  by  Google 


By  H   G.  DeLesser,  Institute  of  Jamaica. 

THERE  are  some  subjects  on  which 
there  has  always  been  a  diversity 
of  opinion.  The  so-called  negro  pro- 
blem is  one  of  them.  It  bewilders  one 
to  read  the  scores  of  books  and  articles 
that  have  been  written  on  this  eternal 
question.  Men  of  unimpeachable  ver- 
acity have  g;iven  answers  so  entirely 
opposite  that  the  enquirer  who  is  not 
in  a  position  to  study  the  matter  at 
first  hand  may  well  despair  ot  ever 
arriving  at  the  truth.  Yet  one  thing 
ought  never  to  be  forgotten,  namely 
that  people  who  have  passed  some 
time  in  the  West  Indies  have  generally 
spoken  favourably  bf  the  negro  ;  while 
those  persons  who  have  only  paid  a 
flying  visit  to  these  islands,  and  who 
have  not  taken  the  trouble  to  study 
their  subject  thoroughly,  generally  go 
to  form  that  class  of  writers  who  repre- 
sent the  negro  as  steeped  to  the  lips  in 
the  mire  of  a  meaningless  superstition, 
and  hopelessly  incapable  of  any  pro- 
gress whatsoever. 

But  as  a  matter  of  fact  you  can  know 
little  of  the  negro  after  but  a  few 
weeks  acquaintance  with  him.  He  is  a 
human  being,  not  a  machine  with  which 
you  can  experiment.  His  character  is 
not  so  very  simple  as  may  be  supposed. 
It  is  not  safe  to  judge  of  him  merely  by 
his  hilarious  laugh  any  more  than  that 
it  was  wise  in  truthful  James  to  judge 
of  Ah  Sin's  character  by  his  bland  and 
childlike  smite.  This  has  been  fully 
grasped  by  Colonel  Ellis  and  Miss 
Mary  Kingsley  (two  recent  writers  on 
West  Africa),  and  it  is  an  important 
fact  to  be  remembered  by  those  who 
would  approach  the  study  of  negro 
character  in  anything  like  a  scientific 

I  do  not  pretend,  however,  to 
handle  this  question  here  one-half  as 
thoroughly  as  it  might  be  handled. 
That  is  impossible  within  the  compass 
of  a  short  "sketch."     What  I   shall 

say,  therefore,  may  be  taken  as  the 
outlines  of  a  portrait,  not  as  the  por- 
trait itself.  Nevertheless,  the  outlines 
are  true. 

The  negro  in  the  West  Indies  has  a 
past  to  remember,  but  he  does  not  re- 
member it.  ^OT  your  West  Indian 
peasant  is  forgetful  of  past  injuries, 
especially  if  he  has  not  suffered  them 
himself.  His  grandfather  endured 
slavery,  but  he  is  free.  Sixty  years 
ago  he  was  chattel  property,  to-day  he 
is  a  landowner  and  a  free-born  British 
subject.  The  ruined  cane-mill,  the 
disbanded  sugar  estate,  the  massive 
aqueduct  on  which  mosses  and  lichens 
luxuriate — all  these  conjure  up  no 
bitter  memories  in  his  mind  ;  no  subtle 
association  of  ideas  touches  into  life 
any  slumbering  passion.  With  him 
the  dead  past  has  indeed  buried  its 

Not  that  it  must  be  thought  that  th& 
negro  existence  in  the  West  Indies  was 
one  of  unutterable  misery  ;  for  it  cer- 
tainly was  not.  Yet  he  was  a  slave> 
and  in  that  lay  his  chief  grievance. 
Still  having  long  since  forgotten  alt 
about  it,  his  outlook  to-day  is  singu- 
larly undimmed  by  any  reminiscence  ot 
a  sorrowful  past. 

I  think  it  may  be  said  without  fear 
of  contradiction  that  the  negro  bids 
fair  to  become  a  great  factor  in  the 
industrial  future  of  the  West  Indian 
colonies.  In  one  respect  at  least  he 
has  been  misrepresented  in  the  past. 
The  so-called  "  ruin "  of  the  West 
Indies  has  sometimes  been  attributed 
to  him  ;  but,  anyone  who  is  not  con- 
tent to  accept  a  mere  assertion  will  be 
considerably  puzzled  as  to  why  this 
allegation  was  made.  It  is  all  very 
well  to  say  that  the  negro  deserted  the 
sugar  estates  after  emancipation,  but 
enquire  into  the  matter,  and  you  will 
find  that  there  are  two  sides  to  this 
question.  However,  there  is  no  ne- 




cessity  to  handle  it  here,  as  I  have 
dealt  with  it  elsewhere.*  At  the  pre- 
sent time,  too,  it  can  not  be  said  that 
the  planters  attribute  the  "ruin"  of 
the  West  Indies  to  the  negro ;  for  such 
a  charge  could  not  be  sustained. 

The  most  abundant  proof  exists  that 
the  negro  works  well  when  he  is  paid 
well.  I  do  not  say  that  he  works  as 
well  as  he  might  work.  1  do  not  say 
either  that  he  will  work  for  the  mere 
love  of  work.  But  I  think  that  in  this 
respect  he  is  very  much  like  other 
persons.  Ttnit  le  mondefait  liloge  du 
travail,  personne  n'ett  veut  fius,  writes 
M.  Paul  Leroy  Beaulieu,  with  his  usual 
deep  sagacity.      He  is  right. 

And  I  am  glad  to  find,  also,  that  so 
well-known  an  American  journalist  as 
Mr.  C.  A.  Stoddard  agrees  with  me  in 
this  respect.  Says  he,t  "  I  bad  heard 
a  great  deal  of  the  indolence  of  the 
negroes  in  the  West  Indies.  I  saw 
little.  Taking  into  consideration  the 
low  price  for  labour — from  four  cents  a 
day,  in  Barbados,  to  a  shilling  or 
thirty  cents  a  day  in  the  best  labour 
markets  of  the  islands — and  consider* 
ing  also  climate  and  the  possibility  of 
easy  existence  without  labouring,  it 
seemed  to  me  that  the  negroes  were 
an  industrious  class  of  people." 

The  negro  in  the  West  Indies  is 
largely  a  peasant  proprietor,  and  to 
his  small  patrimony  he  devotes  most 
of  his  time.  Of  course,  it  might  be 
pointed  out  that  at  its  best  his  land  is 
but  poorly  cultivated.  This  is  true  ; 
but  who  is  to  blame  ?  Not  the  negro, 
certainty,  for  he  cultivates  according 
to  his  lights,  and  those  lights  are  very 
dim.  He  has  not  improved  much 
upon  his  old-fashioned  system  of  cul- 
tivating the  soil ;  he  will  not  improve 
upon  it  until  he  is  taught  how. 

Taking  the  initiative  is  not  a  strong 
point  with  the  negro.  As  an  imitator, 
however,  he  is  very  successful.  If  you 
would  have  him  be  a  good  workman 
you  must  not  leave  him  to  hatch  out 

*  "  New  Century   Review  "    for   January, 

new  methods  for  himself;  you  must 
teach  him.  His  past  history  proves  this. 
During  thousands  of  years  in  Africa  he 
developed  under  circumstances  which 
fettered  the  growth  of  his  intelligence. 
Every  natural  agency  made  against  his 
prepress.  Yet  his  very  survival  shows 
that  he  developed  in  harmony  with  the 
conditions  of  his  existence.  But  hab- 
its and  peculiarities  were  then  formed, 
the    results    of    which    are    apparent 

Take,  for  instance,  the  most  dis- 
tressing social  problem  in  the  West 
Indies  at  the  present  time.  I  speak  of 
the  relationship  subsisting  between  the 
lower  classes  of  both  sexes.  In  a 
word,  marriage  is  not  a  favourite  insti- 
tution with  them.  And  what  is  pecu- 
liar  is,  that  the  institution  per  se  is 
highly  respected  by  them.  That  is, 
those  of  them  that  are  married  are 
more  highly  respected  by  their  fellows. 
They  even  speak  of  those  who  live 
together  without  being  married  as 
persons  "living  in  sin."  This,  of 
course,  is  due  to  the  influence  of 
Christian  teaching  ;  but  this  respect 
has  at  present  no  great  effect  on 

But  no  one  who  has  studied  the 
question  thoroughly  will  say  that  gross 
sensuality  is  the  sole  cause  of  the 
negroes'  present  attitude  towards  the 
institution  of  marriage.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  the  causes  are  many.  Those 
who  are  acquainted  with  the  origin 
and  history  of  the  institution  of  mar- 
riage will  readily  understand  that 
amongst  a  primitive  people  the  posi- 
tion of  the  woman  is  peculiar.  She  is 
sometimes  the  absolute  property  of  ber 
lord.  She  has  few  rights.  She  is  a 
beast  of  burden.     She    is    won    either  I 

by  capture  or  purchase,  so  that  love 
has  little  to  do  with  her  position  as  a 
wife.  And  with  this  system  polygamy 
generally  goes  hand  in  hand. 

These  remarks  apply,  broadly  speak- 
ing, to  the  people  of  West  Africa,  and  ' 
they   are    the    stock   from    which   the  I 
West  Indian  negro  has  sprung.     But             I 
the  transplanting  the   negroes  to  the 
W^st  Indies  has  wrought  changes  in 
the  position  of  the  woman  which  is 



taotamouat  to  a  social  revolution  so 
far  as  that  sex  is  concerned. 

In  byg'one  times  polygamy  was  ram- 
pant amoag  the  slaves  of  the  West 
Indies.  But  the  man  was  a  slave  as 
well  as  the  woman,  and  had  no  abso- 
lute right  over  her.  Their  marriage 
customs. were  simple.  Divorce  was 
therefore  a  thing  of  course.  The  man 
was  not  called  upon  to  support  his 
children  after  he  and  the  woman  had 
separated.  The  man,  then,  felt  not 
the  burden  of  responsibility ;  and  it 
profited  the  woman  to  bear  children, 
as  she  was  more  kindly  treated  by 
her  owner  in  consequence  of  it. 
Hence,  though  she  might  grieve  that 
her  "husband"  should  leave  her  for 
another,  she  was  accustomed  to  regard 
it  as  a  natural  occurrence.  Besides, 
she  herself  was  at  perfect  liberty  to 
leave  him  for  some  one  else.  This 
custom  obtains  to-day. 

Another  reason  that  makes  against 
marriage  amongst  the  negro  popu- 
lation of  the  West  Indies  is  their  dis- 
like of  a  contract.  The  peasant  may 
live  with  his  helpmate  for  life  ;  at  his 
death  he  may  leave  to  her,  and  to  their 
children,  all  his  possessions  ;  but  it  will 
sometimes  happen  that  he  will  refuse 
to  be  joined  in  wedlock  with  her.  He 
knows  the  marriage  tie  is  binding  ;  he 
knows  too  that  while,  amongst  his  own 
class,  it  is  no  particular  disgrace  to 
leave  the  woman  he  has  been  living 
with,  yet  to  leave  his  wife  is  considered 
a  contemptible  action  by  the  same 
people.  So  he  hesitates  before  giving 
anyone  so  great  a  claim  on  him.  On 
her  part,  the  woman  has  no  such  great 
objection  to  marrying.  Indeed,  I  think 
that  in  most  cases  she  would  prefer  it. 
The  man's  excuse  is,  that  as  long  as 
the  woman  knows  he  can  leave  her  at 
will,  she  will  be  submissive  and  obed- 
ient ;  but  if  he  becomes  bound  to  her 
by  legal  ties  she  will  be  difGcult  to 

There  is  also  another  aspect  of  this 
question,  not  to  be  overlooked.  Vol- 
taire says  truly,  "  Les  femmes  .  .  . 
n'ont .  .  .  que  tris  rarement  tinstinct 
d'embrasser  leurs  maris  .  .  .  and  this  is 
evidently  a  wise  provision  of  nature. 

The  thoughtful  reader  will  at  once  see 
that  were  the  passions  of  women  equal 
in  strength  to  those  of  men,  their  social 
status  would  be  infinitely  lower  than  it 
is,  even  in  the  most  uncivilized  coun- 
tries. Joined  to  this  comparative 
feebleness  of  passion  there  is  the  infer- 
ior physical  strength  of  women.  Where 
they  cannot  rival  man  in  the  struggle 
for  daily  bread,  they  must  be  provided 
for  ;  and  they  must  therefore  have  some 
definite  claim  on  those  upon  whom  they 
are  dependent.  But  this  physical  in- 
feriority is  scarcely  found  in  the  West 
Indies.  The  women  work,  and  work 
well.  There  is  therefore  no  danger  of 
their  being  left  behind  in  the  struggle 
for  existence.  Then  they  take  very 
little  thought  of  the  future.  With 
them,  *'  sufficient  to  the  day  is  the  evil 
thereof."  They  have,  also,  no  social 
position  to  lose  by  having  illegitimate 
children  ;  and  so  the  most  powerful 
aids  to  chastity  are  very  much  lacking 
in  the  West  Indies. 

The  uneducated  negro  is  deeply 
superstitious.  It  is  his  nature  to  be  so. 
Writing  of  the  "  Irish  peasant"  in  his 
"History  of  Our  Own  Times,"  Mr, 
Justin  McCarthy  says  of  him,  "  Half 
bis  thoughts,  half  his  life,  belong  to  a 
world  other  than  the  material  world 
around  him.  The  supernatural  be- 
comes almost  the  natural  for  him.  The 
streams,  the  valleys,  the  hills  of  his 
native  land  are  peopled  by  mystic 
forms  and  melancholy  legends,  which 
are  all  living  forms  for  him."  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  negro  peasant. 
His  mind  is  cast  in  a  mysterious  mould. 
The  supernatural  becomes  the  natural 
for  him  ;  they  are  one  and  indivisible. 
But  instead  of  sneering  at  the  supersti- 
tions of  the  negro,  it  would  be  better  to 
enquire  into  their  meaning.  Perhaps, 
as  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  trenchantly  re- 
marks, you  may  find  in  them  some- 
thing  useful   and   instructive.*     The 

"Instead  of  passing  over  as  of  no  account 
or  else  rcg'arding'  as  purely  mischievous,  the 
superstitions  of  primitive  man,  we  must  en- 
quire what  pari  they  play  in  social  evolution  ; 
and  musi  i>e  prepared,  if  need  be,  to  reco^rnize 
their  usefulness. "— H erbert  Spencer,  "Prin- 
ciples of  Sociology,"  Vol.  II,  page  330  {  1893. 




negro  in  Africa  may  sacrifice  hundreds 
ot  human  beings  at  the  death  of  a 
kin^  ;  but  he  does  so  because  he  be- 
lieves in  an  after  life,  and  if  his  king 
has  attendants  on  earth,  he  thinks  he 
must  necessarily  want  them  in  the  land 
of  the  dead.  His  belief  in  "  obeah," 
or  witchcraft,  also  illustrates  a  domin- 
ant conception  of  his  mind.  The  gods 
are  powerful,  therefore  they  can  do 
great  harm  to  you,  or  prevent  it  being 
done.  Therefore  they  must  be  pro- 
pitiated, or  charms  must  be  got  from 
them  through  their  high  priests.  All 
this  is  clear  to  the  negro.  He  no  more 
"  bows  down  to  wood  and  stone  "  "  in 
his  blindness  "  than  you  do.  Every 
action  of  his  has  some  definite  mean- 
ing for  him. 

But  the  religious  ideas  of  the  negro 
have  undergone  strange  modifications 
since  his  introduction  into  the  West 
Indies.  He  has  come  in  contact  with 
Christianity.  Hehasbeen  cutoff  wonder- 
fully from  his  native  land.  The  religious 
practices  of  his  own  country  have  been 
slowly  repressed  by  the  law.  He  has 
beeu  taught  about  a  God  who  punishes 
sin  hereafter,  of  a  Christ  who  died  for 
him,  of  a  heaven  the  bliss  of  which 
soars  beydnd  the  loftiest  conception  of 
man.  But  does  he  fully  grasp  all  this? 
Will  the  mere  teaching  of  a  new  reli- 
gfion  revolutionize  completely  and  at 
once  all  his  old  beliefs?  Has  this  ever 
yet  been  the  case  with  other  peoples? 
As  Miss  Mary  Kingsley  points  out,  the 
negro  has  spent  all  his  life  in  propitiat- 
ing deities  who  either  do  not  care  for 
him,  or  are  directly  opposed  to  him; 
God,  he  is  taught,  does  care  for  him, 
and  naturally  he  looks  for  immediate 
benefits.  He  thinks  he  gets  them 
when  the  rain  falls,  and  his  fields  re- 
turn abundant  produce ;  but  when  light- 
ning strikes  a  man  dead,  he  also  attri- 
butes this  to  the  direct  action  of  God. 
It  is  God  who  has  struck  that  man. 
To  appeal  to  him,  vengeance  or  re- 
ward must  be  present  and  striking. 
Both  hell  and  heaven  are  shadowy  in- 
distinct things  of  the  future.  His  im- 
agination is  not  keen,  and  therefore 
what  would  be  terrible  realities  to 
other  persons  are  not  so  to  him. 

Then  he  argues  inwardly,  why  should 
he  who  is  a  Christian  suffer?  He  does 
not  speak  out  his  thoughts  as  a  rule, 
for  religious  conformity  compels  him 
to  say  "God's  will  be  done."  But  he 
thinks  for  all  that.  Said  a  peasant, 
whose  fields  had  been  repeatedly  rob- 
bed, to  me  one  day:  "It  is  true  that 
God  will  punish  the  guilty,  but  then 
the  innocent  is  punished  at  the  same 
time.  If  a  man  robs  my  yams,  he 
may  go  to  prison,  but  1  lose  my  yams 
all  the  same.  I  don't  understand  iL" 
That's  just  it!  He  doesn't  understand! 
Yet  he  knows  that  if  he  hung  up 
an  "obeah"  charm  in  his  field,  few 
thieves  would  come  near  it.  He  will 
scarcely  do  that  because  he  has  been 
told,  and  believes  that  it  is  wrong. 
But  his  mind  is  in  a  whirl,  and  when 
he  thinks  at  all,  he  is  perpetually  ask- 
ing the  question,  "Why?" 

The  West  Indian  negro  believes  In 
God,  but,  as  said  above,  his  concep- 
tion of  Him  is  somewhat  narrow.  I 
do  not  believe  that  he  thinks  much 
about  God  as  a  God  of  love.  No;  God 
is  rather  something  terrible  to  htm. 
But  Christ  is  different.  He  was  a  man 
on  earth ;  he  suffered  and  died.  That 
means  a  great  deal  to  the  negro.  He 
can  understand  the  Man  with  alt  the 
best  attributes  of  a  man.  Then  again, 
his  conception  of  Christ  must  be  dis- 
tinctly anthropomorphic,  for  he  knows 
that  Christ  was  in  every  respect  physi- 
cally like  himself.  He  is  taught,  how- 
ever, that  God  is  not ;  but  his  concep- 
tion of  Him  is  distinctly  material,  and 
he  pictures  heaven  as  a  land  of  gold 
and  precious  stones,  and  actually  flow- 
ing with  milk  and  honey  I  That  is,  he 
accepts  the  description  in  Revelations 
quite  literally. 

But  do  the  lower  orders  of  any 
European  country  think  much  differ- 
ently ?     I  should  say  not. 

The  negro  was  accustomed  to  rites 
and  ceremonies  in  West  Africa,  and  in 
the  West  Indies  he  regards  Christian 
rites  with  almost  as  much  zeal  as  he 
once  did  pagan  customs  in  Africa. 
External  ceremony  always  appeals  to 
him.  He  likes  much  singing,  and  an 
elaborate  display  of  religious  zeal. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



Thus,  there  is  a  great  deal  of  re- 
li^oD  \a  the  West  Indies,  but  little 
Christianity.  For  iastance,  Sunday  is 
most  religiously  observed  in  the  West 
Indies.  The  majority  of  tbe  lower 
classes  do  not  care  to  do  anything  in 
the  shape  of  labour  on  that  day.  Large 
numbers  attend  places  of  worship, 
but  their  chief  delight  is  to  sit  in  the 
open  air  and  stag  hymns,  and  the  more 
solema  and  dolorous  those  hymns  are, 
the  better.  To  break  the  Sabbath 
day  in  the  West  Indies  is  a  greater 
crime  with  the  peasant  than  to  tell  a 

But  it  must  not  be  gathered  from 
the  above  remarks  that  the  West 
Indian  negro  is  incapable  of  becoming 
a  real  Christian.  Not  at  all  ;  for  there 
are  thousands  of  exceptions  to  the 
general  rule,  but  1  am  dealing  with 
the  majority  now  ;  and  also  with  the 
present  time,  not  the  future. 

Now,  whatever  one  chooses  to  think 
of  the  origin  of  our  moral  sentiments, 
it  must  be  universally  admitted  that  dif- 
ferent systems  of  religion  will  "have 
various  effects  on  them.  Immorality, 
for  instance,  is  little  thought  of  as  a 
breach  of  a  moral  law  in  West  Africa, 
and  the  chief  reason  of  this  is  because 
it  has  never  been  condemned  by  the 
native  religion.  Where  adultery  is 
punished  in  that  country  it  is  because 
an  injustice  against  a  man's  personal 
rig-hts  has  been  committed,  not  because 
of  the  heinousness  of  the  deed  per  se. 
Similarly,  stealing  may  be  condemned 
from  a  utilitarian  point  of  view,  for  it 
is  certainly  very  annoying  to  have 
your  things  stolen  ;  but  West  African 
religion  has  nothing  to  say  against 
it.  But  reverence  for  the  priesthood, 
for  superiors,  for  elders,  and  for  par- 
ents is  almost  an  article  of  faith  with 
the  West  African  negro,  and  in  nearly 
all  these  respects  the  force  of  heredity 
tells  in  his  pure-blooded  offspring. 

It  has  ever  been  said  that  the  negro  is 
not  honest,  and  the  consensus  of  opin- 
ion in  the  West  Indies  is  that  the 
lower  class  negro  is  very  much  inclin- 
ed to  petty  theft.  He  is  notaburglar; 
he  will  not  attack  you  on  the  highway 
for  the  purpose    of    robbing  you  ;  he 

rarely  thinks  of  taking  your  life  for 
your  money,  yet  he  will  rob  his  honest 
neighbour's  "  provision  ground  "  with- 
out the  slightest  compunction.  This 
prsedial  thieving  is  the  chief  crime  of 
the  lowest  classes  of  the>  West  Indian 
peasantry.  No  one  suffers  by  it  so 
much  as  the  hard-working  black  plan- 
ter, who  may  awake  any  morning  to 
find  the  results  of  weeks  of  labour  rob- 
bed  from  him  in  a  single  night. 

It  has  sometimes  been  alleged  that 
the  West  Indian  negro  cannot  co- 
operate for  any  useful  purpose  ;  but 
this  assertion  is  emphatically  negatived 
by  the  numerous  Friendly  Societies  and 
Unions  that  have  been  flourishing  for 
tbe  last  thirty  or  forty  years.  This 
spirit  of  co-operation  is  yet  in  its  in- 
fancy, so  to  speak  ;  but,  of  course,  a 
fully  developed  system  of  voluntary  co- 
operation is  the  product  of  a  corre^ 
sponding  state  of  civilization.  The 
very  fact  that  it  exists  here  in  an  in- 
cipient stage  is  something  hopeful, 
and  I  cannot  concur  either  in  the  as- 
sertion that  the  negro  is  absolutely 
thriftless.  It  is  scarcely  fair  to  expect 
thrift  from  people  who,  in  the  majority 
of  cases,  have  little  to  live  upon.  But 
even  in  this  respect  there  is  positive 
evidence  in  favour  of  the  negro. 
Where  did  he  get  the  money  to  buy 
the  land  he  now  owns  in  the  West 
Indies  P  There  is  enough  evidence  to 
prove  that  he  worked  for  it.  Mr. 
Stewart  in  his  "  Account  of  Jamaica," 
first  published  in  1S08,  gave  it  as  his 
opinion  that  a  great  part  of  the  gold 
and  silver  coin  then  in  the  island  was 
in  the  hands  of  the  negroes,  who  had 
obtained  it  in  exchange  for  the  pro- 
ducts of  the  small  pieces  of  land  they 
were  allowed  to  cultivate  forthemselves 
during  slavery.  And  if  anyone  chooses 
to  take  the  trouble  of  looking  through 
the  official  returns  of  the  savings  banks 
of  the  West  Indies  he  will  be  able  to 
judge  for  himself  whether  the  negro  is, 
on  the  whole,  thrifty  or  not.  Perhaps 
I  can  do  no  better  than  quote  here  a 
few  sentences  from  a  lecture  on  Jama- 
ica delivered  in  April,  1S80,  before  the 
Royal  Colonial  Institute,  by  Sir  An- 
thony Musgrave,  one  of  the  best   of 



West  Indian  Governors.  Said  he: 
"There  are  indications,  everywhere 
regarded  as  evidence  of  prosperity  and 
thrift  on  the  part  of  the  working  classes, 
to  which  we  may  point  as  testimony 
that  the  people  in  Jamaica,  like  their 
fellows  elsewhere,  are  becoming  mind< 
fill  of  the  value  of  industry  and  the 
advantage  of  providence.  In  iB68the 
number  of  depositors  in  the  savings 
bank  was  21534,  and  the  amount  of 
their  deposits  3.  In  1879,  after 
deducting  some  deposits  on  public  ac- 
counts, there  were  6,223  depositors, 
with  a  total  amounting  to  ;£207,ooo." 

The  above  remarks,  although  made 
with  special  reference  to  Jamaica, 
are  far  from  being  inapplicable  to 
the  other  West  Indian  islands,  and 
1  could  give  statistics  to  show  that, 
despite  the  terrible  depressions  and 
crises  through  which  the  West  In- 
dies have  recently  passed,  there  are 
many  hopeful  signs  of  increased  thrifti- 
ness  on  the  part  of  the  common  people. 

The  West  Indian  negro  is  intensely 
emotional,  impulsive,  polite,  given  to 
begging,  very  liberal,  has  no  strict  re- 
gard for  the  truth,  is  affectionate,  is 
generally  grateful  for  past  kindnesses, 
and  is  cheerful.  When  enraged  he 
does  not  reason,  and  is  ungovernable. 
This,  oFcourse,  is  the  trait  of  an  undis- 
ciplined mind  ;  yet  his  fury  rarely  ever 
lasts.  He  is  not  revengeful — impul- 
sive people  are  not  so  as  a  rule.  And 
though  the  women  are  given  to  beg- 
ging, both  sexes  are  liberal.  (West 
Indian  liberality  has  always  been  much 
lauded,  but  it  must  by  no  means  be 
supposed  that  this  hospitable  teeling  is 
only  confined  to  one  class.) 

I  have  said  that  the  negro  has  no 
strict  regard  for  the  truth.  In  this  re- 
spect I  must  be  understood  to  be  speak- 
ing broadly  of  the  majority.  And,  too, 
there  is  a  sort  of  honour  attached  to  a 
certain  form  of  lying.  Suppose,  for 
instance,  one  man  has  seen  another 
commit  some  petty  misdemeanour,  and 
tells  of  it,  he  is  invariably  regarded  as 
a  liar,  although  he  has  told  but  the 
strictest  truth.* 

That  as  a  rule  the  negro  is  affection- 
ate is  unquestionable.  Negro  mothers 
are  most  attentive  to  their  children. 
Infanticide  is  not  common  in  the  West 
Indies  ;  and  though  Sir  Spencer  St. 
John  in  his  book  on  Hayti  gives  it  as 
his  opinion  that  the  dreadful  infant 
mortality  of  that  country  is  due  to  the 
sacrificing  of  children,  most  persons 
who  are  at  all  acquainted  with  West 
Indian  diseases  will  at  once  concede 
that  tetanus  has  more  to  do  with  it 
than  any  such  inhuman  cruelty. 

That  the  negro  is  generally  grateful 
is  well  substantiated  by  facts.  There 
are  numerous  instances  recorded  of  the 
fidelity  of  household  slaves  to  their 
owners  during  many  trying  periods 
in  the  history  of  slavery.  Slaves  have 
given  their  lives  for  kind  masters. 
They  have  protected  their  property, 
have  fought  their  battles,  have  sup- 
ported them  in  time  of  distress.  Negro 
peasant  women  have  been  known  to 
carry  regularly  a  portion  of  the  pro- 
duce of  their  "fields"  for  their  old 
slave  mistresses'  after  emancipation. 
They  have  sympathised  with  them  in 
their  distress,  for  above  everything 
else  the  negro  is  sympathetic. 

Carlyle  has  laid  it  down  that  the 
world  is  built  upon  a  foundation  of 
clothes  ;  and  if  this  dictum  has  appli- 
cation anywhere,  it  is  in  the  West 
Indies.  The  negro  is  extremely  fond 
of  dress.  He  may  go  in  rags  during 
the  week,  but  on  Sunday  he  will  dress 
like  a  prince  if  he  can  afford  iL  There 
is  nothing  on  which  he  will  more  read- 
ily spend  money  than  on  fine  wearing 
apparel.  This  trait  has  been  long  since 
recognized,  and  economists  have  dwelt 
upon  it  as  an  inducement  to  the  negro 
to  labour. 

The  negro  is  not  a  politician.  In 
the  towns  where  there  is  always  a 
somewhat  lively  play  of  public  opnnion, 
he  does  take  some  interest  in  political 
matters.  Not  so  in  the  country  where 
he  is  far  removed  from  the  scene  of 

S.  Mill  ("Three  Essays  on  Reli^on,")  makes 
one  or  Iwo  remarks  whicb  'pplj  here- 
"Thefhave,"  sajs  he,  ">  notion  (rf' not  be- 
trajrinf;  to  Iheir  hurt,  as  of  hurlii^  in  anj 
other  way,  persons  to  wfaom  tbey  are  boood 
by  some  special  tie  of  obligation." 


IN  WAR  TIME  lai 

such  activity.    And  this  is  only  natural.  I  venture  to  think  that  I  have  given 

Political    institutions    are    a    thing    of  above  the  chief  faults  and  virtues  of 

growth,  and  the  institutions  to  which  the  negro.  To  my  thinking  the  virtues 

the  engro  has   been  accustomed  in  the  outnumber  the  faults.      It  is  hard  to 

past  were  generally  supreme  autocra-  expect  anything  better  from  the  negro 

cies.    In  saying  this,  I  am  stating  only  as    he   is    at    present    circumstanced, 

a  simple  fact.      It  is  not  an  argument  Wise  men  do  not  look  to  gather  grapes 

for  or  against  any  particular  form  of  from  thistles,  and  in  the  same  way  it 

gfovemment  in  the    West    Indies,    for  is  unwise  to  expect  to  reap  much  where, 

that  subject  does  not  concern  me  here,  up  to  now,  so  little  has  been  sown. 



OUTHWARD  are  faces  set— 

The  stirring  music  of  the  marching  feet, 
That  woke  the  nations  with  its  rhythmic  beat, 
Rings  on  the  pavement  yet. 

Across  the  earth  and  sea 
A  long  line  stretches — men  and  men  and  men  ; 
We  may  not  look  upon  the  like  again, 

Nor  braver  sight  could  be ! 

Yonder  among  the  guns. 
The  wine  of  life — and  Britain  knows  its  price — 
Is  poured  out  in  a  lavish  sacrifice. 

Where  fall  her  precious  ones. 

This  page  of  history — 
Written  in  warriors'  blood  and  women's  tears  ; 
Ending  the  mighty  volume  of  the  years. 

That  make  our  century — 

Will  be  a  tale  sublime, 
When  the  great  empire-heart  grows  calm  again ; 
Britannia's  eyes,  through  all  this  stress  and  pain. 

Look  to  lh;it  after-time. 

Digitized  by  Google 

I  )\.l,ULI\iy.      VllXlL^P,       CWE^fOigDENT- 


THE  first  fight  I  was  present  at  during 
the  Russo-Turkish  War  was  the 
passag^e  of  the  Danube.  When  the  cross- 
ing was  effected  between  Simnitza  and 
Sistova,  Archibald  Forbes  and  I  joined 
General  Arnoldi's  cavalry  brigade  on 
the  invasion  of  Turkey.  The  advance 
squadrons  were  dragoon,  carrying 
rifles,  bayonets  and  swords,  in  fact, 
mounted  infantry  or  cavalry  at  will. 
There  is  do  service  during  war  that  ap- 
peals to  me  more  than  that  of  the 
Uhlan,  or  scout,  and  Arnoldi's  men 
acted  as  such  for  the  invading  force. 
To  be  in  the  very  fire-front  of  an  ad- 
vance, always  on  the  alert,  to  keep 
touch  with  the  enemy,  interrogating 
the  peasantry,  or  cutting  telegraph 
wires ;  in  fact,  to  be  here,  there,  and 
everywhere,  is  to  me  the  best  part  of 

Arnoldi,  though  a  staunch  Russian, 
had,  as  his  name  suggested,  Italian 
blood  in  his  veins,  and  all  the  artistic 
feeling  both  in  music  and  painting 
of  that  highly-gifted  race.  He  was 
a  keen  aquarellist,  and  nothing  did  he 
like  better  than,  after  he  had  seen  his 
men  encamped  for  the  day,  to  devote 
the  remaining  hours  of  daylight  to  a 
jaunt  with  me  through  the  adjacent 
Bulgarian  villages,  and  place  our  camp- 
stools  in  the  front  of  some  picturesque 
hut,   and  try  to  reproduce,  with   our 

limited  pigments,  the  marvellous  hues 
of  the  paprika  pods  enshrouding  the 
portals  with  crimson,  yellow,  and  deli- 
cate greens,  while  the  wondering  in- 
habitants stood  in  motley  groups  round 
the  crazy  General,  as  they  dubbed  him. 

Certainly  the  quaintest  and  most  pic- 
turesque figure  of  the  odd  scene  was 
Arnoldi  himself,  doubled  up  on  his 
stool,  arrayed  in  pink  silk  shirt,  white 
kapi,  and  dark  green  trousers,  with  the 
broad  stripe  of  red  down  their  sides 
denoting  his  high  rank. 

When  the  sun  was  down  we  would 
light  our  pipes,  shoulder  our  camp- 
stools,  and  trudge  back  to  camp,  just 
as  if  we  were  on  a  sketching  picnic  in- 
stead of  the  serious  business  of  war. 
Sometimes  Arnoldi  and  1  would  be  so 
keen  on  sketching  that  we  would  not 
hesitate  to  pull  out  our  sketch-books 
and  colours  on  the  line  of  march,  and 
ride  as  far  as  we  dared  ahead  of  the 
squadrons  and  begin  our  work.  Oc- 
casionally the  General  and  I  would  be 
many  hours  in  advance  of  our  bag- 
gage, and  once  or  twice  so  hard  pres- 
sed were  we  for  food  that  Arnoldi 
would  request  a  passing  Cossack  to 
dismount  and  order  him  to  empty  his 
pockets  of  the  dry  pieces  of  black 
bread,  which  those  hardy  warriors  al- 
ways  stored,  tn  case  of  a  long  march, 
in  their  capacious  trouser- pockets.      It 




was  a  quaint  and  amusing  sight  to  see 
the  trooper,  at  word  from  Arnold!, 
come  to  the  attention,  then  salute,  and 
dive  his  hands  into  his  nether  garment, 
and  produce,  apparently,  black  cin- 
ders,  which  he  would  place  in  the  hol- 
low of  his  cap,  and,  with  trembling 
hand,  offer  the  ration  to  his  General, 
when  Arnoldi  and  I  would  consume  the 
stale  food  with  great  relish,  I  sug- 
g^ested  to  the  General  that  it  was  rather 
rough  on  the  trooper  to  requisition 
his  rations  at  a  moment's  notice,  but 
he  laughed  with  great  glee  and  replied : 
"  My  dear  Villiers,  did  you  not  notice 
that  the  soldier  was  trembling  as  he 
handed  me  his  bread?  Why,  he  was 
shaking  with  pleasure,  and  he  will  be 
the  proudest  man  of  his  troop  to-day 
for  the  honour  we  have  done  him  in 
eating  his  crusts.  Vou  don't  know  the 
Russian  soldier  yet,  my  Villiers,"  con- 
tinued the  General,  "  If  that  man 
gets  out  of  this  campaign  alive  the 
one  thing  he  will  ever  remember  and 
talk  to  the  children  about — above  he- 
roic deeds  and  the  glamour  of  the  fight- 
ing— will  be  this  litttle  incident  of  his 
General  munching  those  musty  crusts 
out  of  his  greasy  trouser-pockets." 

It  was  almost  a  perpetual  picnic  this, 
the  beginning  of  the  Russo-Turkish 
campaign.  The  weather  was  simply 
perfection  for  campaigning.  The 
breath  of  summer  was  in  the  air. 
The  days  were  bright  and  sunny,  and 
at  night  one  required  no  better  bed 
than  a  patch  of  grass  to  stretch  on  and 
a  blanket  for  a  covering. 

We  met  with  no  serious  opposition 
on  the  march  till  we  arrived  outside  the 
town  of  Bjela.  The  few  Turks  occupy- 
ing the  place  were  so  astonished- at 
seeing,  as  they  thought,  a  force  of 
Russian  infantry  so  near  at  hand,  that 
they  immediately  beat  a  retreat,  for 
our  men  dismounted  some  little  dis- 
tance from  the  town,  and  in  infantry 
formation  crept  up,  with  fixed  bayo- 
nets, and  completely  surprised  the 

Bjela  nestled  in  a  gorge  dividing  a 
belt  of  hills,  standing  rather  abruptly 
out  of  the  rolling  plain  across  which 
we  had  advanced.     As  our  men  were 

skirmishing  over  the  heights,  driving 
the  rear-guard  of  the  Turkish  force 
out  of  the  town,  the  principal  Bulgar- 
ian residents  of  the  place  and  the  chief 
dignitaries  of  the  Orthodox  Church 
were  advancing  towards  the  General 
and  his  staff,  proffering  them  bread 
and  salt,  while  an  aged  priest  held  up  a 
large  metal  crucifix  which  the  General 
and  his  officers  in  deep  reverence  kissed. 
Shortly  afterwards  our  troops  took  up 
a  position  on  the  heights  to  the  left  of 
the  town. 

Towards  evening  a  number  of  the 
enemy's  Circassian  cavalry  stood  out 
against  the  blood-red  after-glow  of  the 
sun  like  huge  carrion  crows  on  the  pur- 
ple horizon,  hovering  along  the  ridge 
in  our  immediate  front  till  their  figures 
began  to  be  merged  in  the  gathering 
gloom.  And  when  night  set  in,  flicker- 
ing lights  on  our  front  and  lel^  and 
right  betokened  that  the  enemy  had 
not  retreated  far,  but  were  keeping  a 
keen  watch  on  our  movements.  The 
General  had  expected  the  infantry  to 
follow  close  00  our  heels,  for  we  were 
not  strong  enough  to  court  attack  ; 
therefore,  when  the  morning  broke, 
and  finding  that  the  enemy  had  been 
closing  round  us  during  the  night,  so 
formidable  did  they  look,  Arnoldi  im- 
mediately ordered  our  guns  and  bag- 
gage to  retire  behind  the  River  Yantra, 
which  ran  below  the  town,  and  over 
which  we  had  passed  the  previous 

We  stood  by  our  horses  all  day  long, 
our  videttes  occasionally  taking  pot- 
shots at  the  enemy  as  they  gradually 
drew  closer  towards  our  flanks.  We 
were  anxiously  waiting  and  watching 
till  the  sun  was  on  the  wane,  when,  to 
our  intense  delight,  we  descried  afar 
over  the  plain  a  column  of  dust  begin- 
ning to  rise,  gradually  rolling  nearer 
and  nearer.  Through  this  dust  specks 
of  fire  sparkled  as  the  yellow  glow  of 
the  sun  glinted  on  the  lips  of  bayonets. 
Steadily  the  grey  cloud  approached, 
andsoon  white  uniforms  were  distinctly 
visible,  and  the  sound  of  the  steady 
tramp,  tramp  of  infantry  came  up  from 
the  plain.  The  dragoons  sprinkling 
the  heights  of  Bjela  gave  lusty  cheers 




as  the  long-looked-for  relief  at  last 
passed  under  us  into  the  town.  The 
enemy,  on  seeing  this  strong  reinforce- 
ment quietly  melted  away,  and  Bjela, 
practically  without  a  shot,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Russians. 

The  house  in  which  Forbes  and  I  had 
taken  up  our  quarters,  was  at  one  end  of 
the  straggling  township.  My  colleague 
had  just  Started  back  to  the  Danube 
with  nty  sketches  and  a  budget  of  war 
news,  and  Arnold!,  knowing  I  was 
alone,  was  good  enough  to  invite  me 
to  dine  with  him.  I  had  to  go  the 
whole  length  of  the  town  to  Arnoldi's 
quarters,  he  having  encamped  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Yantra.  The  infantry 
were  rapidly  taking  up  their  position 
on  the  heights  round  Bjela.  All  through 
the  evening  the  troops  continued  march- 
ing through  the  main  street,  and  far 
into  the  night  stragglers  and  malinger- 
ers were  dragging  their  weary  limbs 
over  the  hard,  dusty  plain  to  the  vari- 
ous encampments. 

When  I  returned  from  dining  at  the 
cavalry  camp  towards  midnight,  the 
road  was  apparently  quite  silent.  Pre- 
sently a  light  flashed  up  from  one  of 
the  cellars  of  a  store.  On  looking  down 
its  steps  I  discovered  four  soldiers  stag- 
gering stupidly  drunk,  up  to  theirankles 
in  liquor,  which  was  still  running  from 
several  casks  they  had  broken  open. 
On  catching  sight  of  me  one  of  the 
men  stumbled  up  to  the  level  of  the 
street  and  brought  his  ride  to  the 
guard  at  the  same  time  challenging 

I  answered  in  my  best  Russian,  the 
purity  of  which  immediately  betrayed 
my  ignorance  of  the  tongue,  where- 
on the  sentry  cried  to  his  companion ; 

"Here's  a  Turk!"  seized  me  and 
pushed  me  into  the  cellar,  where  his 
drunken  companions  at  once  surround- 
ed and  searched  me. 

1  immediately  held  out  my  revolver, 
butt-end  forward,  to  show  non-belli- 
cose intentions.  They  snatched  it  out 
of  my  grasp,  and  also  relieved  me  of 
mysketch-  and  pocket-books  and  purse. 
Then  they  rudely  hustled  me  up  out  of 
the  cellar  on  to  the  road.  They  were 
all  more  or  less  intoxicated,  two  some- 

what good -humou redly,  but  the  others 
were  sullen  and  ill-tempered.  They 
held  a  querulous  consultation  as  to 
their  future  dealings  with  me,  and  ap- 
peared to  arrive  at  the  conclusion  to 
take  me  in  the  direction  from  whence 
I  had  come.  At  this  I  was  much 
relieved,  for  I  knew  I  should  be  near- 
ing  friends. 

My  captors  placed  me  between  them 
and  we  started.  To  my  dismay,  on  ar- 
riving at  the  mill-dam  in  the  centre  of 
the  town,  the  deep  shadow  of  the  old 
mill  wheel  seemed  to  suggest  to  the 
two  sullen  guards  who  were  behind 
me  that  this  was  a  fit  and  proper 
place  to  rid  themselves  of  so  irritating 
a  burden  as  myself.  Why  not  stab  me 
in  the  back  and  slip  me  into  the  mill- 
race,  for  was  I  not  keeping  them  front 
a  further  orgy?  One  ruffian  suddenly 
clutched  me  by  the  shoulder  and  growl- 
ed out  "  Halt  I  "  while  the  other  level- 
led his  bayonet.  I  quickly  caught  the 
cold  steel  at  the  charge,  forcing  it 
aside  with  my  hands,  when,  luckily, 
the  good-humoured  advance-guard 
turned  round  at  the  noise  and,  seeing 
the  dastardly  deed  about  to  be  perpe- 
trated, rushed  forward. 

One  struck  the  fellow  who  still 
clutched  my  shoulder  a  blow  in  the 
mouth.  Then  a  quarrel  ensued  between 
my  captors,  the  rear-guard  explaining 
the  advantage  of  a  quietus  for  me, 
while  the  advance-guard  objected 
strongly  to  this  questionable  proceed- 
ing (in  which  I  fully  concurred)  to  thus 
early  in  life  sending  me  over  to  the 
great  majority. 

At  last  there  seemed  to  be  a  com- 
promise between  them,  and,  thanks  to 
my  preservers,  they  further  relieved  my 
mind  regarding  my  safety  by  remain- 
ing in  the  rear  while  my  would-be  as- 
sassins were  compelled  to  trudge  on  in 
front.  We  eventually  arrived  at  a  biv- 
ouac of  infantry,  and  I  was  dragged 
toward  the  blazing  camp-fire. 

As  I  warmed  my  hands  at  the  flam- 
ing logs,  the  men  crowded  round  and 
stared  at  this  supposed  Turk  in  dis- 
guise. In  a  short  time  an  officer  ap- 
peared on  the  scene.  He  did  not  seem 
much   convinced  of  my  innocence,  in 




spite  of  my  story  which  was  related 
to  htm  in  my  best  French  and  all  the 
Russian  I  was  acquainted  with.  Luck- 
ily a  cavalry- man,  one  of  Arnoldi's 
troopers,  pushed  bis  way  to  the  front, 
and,  recognizing  me,  told  the  crowd 
(which  immediately  made  me  a  hero  in 
their  eyes)  how,  on  the  day  of  their  ar- 
rival in  Bjela,  1  went  down  into  the 
town,  and  marshalled  up  to  their 
thirsty  bivouac  a  contingent  of  Bul- 
g^arians,  earring  buckets  of  wine.  This 
exploit  of  mine  elicited  a  murmur  of 
admiration,  and  I  at  once  knew  that  I 
was  with  friends. 

A  cloak  was  spread  for  me  by  the 
fire,  and  a  mug  of  tea  handed  me,  in 
which  I  drank  "to  all  honest  soldiers." 
Presently,  over  the  heads  of  those  im- 
mediately around  me  was  passed  my 
revolver,  then  came  my  sketch  book  in 
the  same  manner,  for  the  men  who  had 
arrested  me  were  now  out  of  favour 
and  had  quietly  slunk  away.  Last,  but 
not  least,  my  purse  arrived.  I  instinc- 
tively opened  it  and  commenced  count- 
ing the  notes  and  coin.  A  howl  of  in- 
dignation went  up  from  the  honest 
fellows  round  me.  I  almost  felt 
ashamed  at  my  stupidity.  The  officer 
assured  me  that  no  Russian  would 
steal.  I  arrested  the  question  which 
readily  came  to  my  lips:  "Then  why 
take  my  purse?"  Nevertheless,  the 
coin  had  not  been  touched,  though  I 
believe  that  well-filled  purse,  by  excit- 
ing the  cupidity  of  the  two  sullen 
guards,  nearly  caused  the  death  of  me. 
The  officer  kindly  gave  me  an  escort 
to  prevent  further  molestation,  and  I 
arrived  at  my  house  never  more  utterly 
^ggcd  out  in  my  life. 

Throwing  myself  on  to  the  ottoman 
I  soon  fell  asleep.  Presently  I  was 
disturbed  by  a  soft,  velvet  touch  on 
my  face,  then  came  a  gentle  pressure 
of  my  hands.  Thinking  I  was  in  the 
throes  of  a  pleasant  nightmare,  I 
sighed,  and  still  sweetly  slept.  Now 
came  a  pinch  on  my  right  toe,  quickly 
followed  by  rather  a  rough  tweak  of 
my  nose.  I  sat  up,  rubbing  my  eyes 
till  I  was  wide  awake,  when  1  dis- 
covered in  a  ray  of  soft  moonlight,  two 
lovely  damsels  in  picturesque  robes-de- 

nuii,  wringing  their  hands  and  sadly 

On  seeing  that  I  was  fully  awake 
they  rushed  at  me  and  shook  me,  fear- 
ing that  I  might  fall  asleep  again.  The 
fair  creatures  both  pointea  to  the  win- 
dow, and  in  a  tongue  utterly  unintel- 
ligible to  me,  rapidly  began  talking. 
Their  faces  were  full  of  fear,  and  they 
seemed  to  be  in  great  distress,  so  in 
spite — to  say  the  least  of  it — of  my 
compromising  situation,  I  jumped  out 
of  bed,  and  was  soon  by  their  side, 
looking  through  the  window.  I  soon 
became  aware  of  a  dull  roar  like  the 
distant  surging  of  the  sea,  and  bright 
fiashes  of  light  threw  sharp  shadows 
into  the  room.  On  looking  through 
the  casement  into  the  street,  a  weird 
scene  was  presented.  From  our  house, 
which  formed  the  cul-de-sac  of  the  alley 
opening  on  to  the  main  street,  grim- 
looking  beings  staggered  hither  and 
thither.  Their  rough  features  were 
lit  up  by  flaring  torches,  splinters  of 
broken  shutters  or  window- frames 
steeped  in  pitch,  which  many  carried. 
By  the  light  of  fitful  beacons  the  ruf- 
fians were  looting  the  stores,  and  quite 
a  number — the  majority  the  worse  for 
liquor — were  making  for  our  house. 

I  at  once  aroused  Forbes'  servant, 
Andreas,  and  asked  him  to  stand  by. 
The  husband  of  one  of  the  women 
who  had  followed  them  into  the  room, 
was  crouching  by  the  doorway,  almost 
in  a  comatose  condition  with  fear.  By 
this  time  a  considerable  number  of 
looters  were  collected  in  front  of  the 
house,  many  beating  vigorously  at 
the  door  with  an  iron  bar, 

"Andreas,"  I  whispered,  "throw 
open  the  window. as  if  in  surprise, 
and  in  a  loud  voice  ask  what  the  deuce 
they  mean  by  attacking  a  Bulgarian 
house,  and  that  a  Russian  Colonel  is 
quartered  here  who  must  not  be  dis- 
turbed. I  will  put  on  my  military  cap 
and  shake  my  fist  at  them," 

This  little  ruse  of  mine  succeeded 
for  a  time,  the  men  apparently  clearing 
off  and  leaving  us  in  peace.  Almost 
dead  with  sleep  I  fell  back  again  on  to 
the  ottoman.  The  women  clinging  to 
each    other,    squatted    on  the  floor, 




while  the  man  kept  crossing;  himself 
and  calling  upon  the  saints. 

I  was  soon  awakened  once  more  by 
a  loud  knocking:  at  the  grate  below. 
The  women  jvere  crying  and  clinging 
to  me  with  all  the  fervour  of  the  dis- 
tressed ladies  in  the  romantic  drama  ; 
wherever  I  went  they  hung  on  to  me 
for  dear  life.  Dragging  myself  to  the 
window  1  must  say  that  an  alarming 
sight  presented  itself.  Six  men,  fierce 
with  rage,  their  coarse  features  dis- 
torted with  passion,  were  striving  to 
force  the  gate.  One  ruffian  had  fallen, 
and  was  gasping  in  agonizing  throes 
on  the  step.  His  companions  on  see- 
ing us  at  the  windows,  shook  their 
fists,  yelling  out  that  "  I  was  a  cursed 
Turk  !  The  house  was  a  Mohammedan 
house,  and  that  we  kept  poisonous 
liquor  to  kilt  the  Russians  with." 

One  snatched  a  bottle  from  the 
grasp  of  the  fallen  man  and  hurled  it 
in  my  direction.  The  frightened 
women  with  piteous  cries  of  fear  clung 
closer  and  closer  to  me.  With  the  as- 
sistance of  Andreas  I  shook  them  off, 
then  stirred  up  the  cowardly,  whimper- 
ing husband  with  my  foot,  and  told 
him  to  blockade  the  door  with  the 
furniture.  Giving  my  revolver  to  the 
women,  and  bidding  them  shoot  if 
once  the  door  was  forced,  I  left  them, 
and  hurried  down  the  stairs  into  the 
yard.  I  requested  Andreas  to  leave 
his  revolver  behind,  for,  being  found 
unarmed,  the  soldiers  might  not  take 
extreme  measures  with  us.  Andreas 
and  I  stood  for  a  moment  quietly  be- 
hind the  door,  and  then  suddenly  let  it 
fly  open.  The*  angry  crowd  was 
taken  aback  by  this  sudden  movement, 
and  for  a  second  or  two  my  servant 
and  I  stood  alone  in  the  portal. 

It  was  a  curious  sight  we  beheld. 
Two  of  the  ruffians  carried  torches,  the 
lurid  glare  falling  on  the  facbs  of  the 
men,  showed  me  that  most  of  them 
were  sottish  with  drink.  There  was  a 
confused  babble  of  oaths  as  they  re- 
covered from  their  surprise,  and  then 
one  with  a  black  wine  bottle  in  his  hand 
staggfered  forward,  and  seizing  An- 
dreas by  the  arm,  tried  to  force  him 
to    drink  of   its  contents.     Andreas, 

who  was  not  thirsty,  declined  to  obey 
him.  At  this  the  others  closed  around 
him.and  shouted,  "The  accursedMos- 
lem  shall  drink  his  own  vile  poison, 
drink!  Force  it  down  his  ugly  throat  1" 

At  this  they  seized  his  head.  I  then 
came  to  my  servant's  rescue,  and  in 
another  moment  the  bottle  was  dashed 
to  the  ground  and  smashed,  splashing^ 
its  contents  over  my  boots,  and  An- 
dreas and  I  were  dragged  by  the  angry 
mob  up  the  valley  and  on  to  the  main 

I  cried  to  Andreas  not  to  resist,  but 
to  work  his  way,  if  possible,  to  pilot 
the  surging,  frenzied  soldiers,  hangings 
on  to  us  towards  a  sentry  standing 
guard  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  With 
our  clothes  almost  torn  from  our  backs, 
and  bleeding  with  rough  usage,  we 
gradually  worked  the  struggling  mob 
towards  the  sentry.  Then  Andreas 
called  to  him,  explaining  who  we  were, 
and  asked  for  succour. 

The  sentry  came  forward,  and  tout- 
ing "Halt!"  demanded  our  release. 
The  drunken  crew  around  us,  a  little 
sobered  by  the  sharp  struggle,  at  last 
began  to  understand  that  they  had 
made  a  mistake,  especially  when  a  few 
of  the  more  sober  saw  the  insignia  of 
my  profession  attached  to  my  arm, 
bearing  the  Imperial  Russian  Eagle, 
which  in  their  fury  they  had  not  notic- 
ed. They  stole  sullenly  away.  Balk- 
ed of  their  revenge  on  us,  I  could  see 
that  they  intended  to  re-attack  the 

I  hurried  up  to  the  camp  above  the 
town,  told  my  story  to  the  Colonel 
in  command,  and  just  as  day  was 
breaking  I  returned  to  the  scene  of  my 
late  adventure  with  a  half-company  of 
men  and  two  officers,  arriving  in  the 
nick  of  time  to  prevent  the  drunken 
ruffians  from  forcing  the  door  of  the 

On  the  threshold  of  the  gateway  we 
found  the  corpse  of  the  irfRn  who  had 
fallen  with  the  bottle.  Ht^face  was 
livid,  and  his  lips  black  and^wollen. 
Curled  up  into  a  ball  dead,  a  few  yards 
further  up  the  valley  lay  another  of  our 
assailants,  also  black  at  the  mouth, 
and  his  hands  fearfully  blistered.  How 

C.oot^lc  ^ 


did  these  wretched  creatures  come  by  aroused  from  hisstateofabsoluteterror. 

their  death?     What  was  it  they  had  "What  m    the    name    of    Bacchus 

been  driakin^  ?  I  looked  at  my  splash-  was    the  wine    he    kept  stored  ia  his 

ed   boots  ;  dark  spots  stood  out  dis-  cellar  P  " 

tinctly  OD  the  leather.  Ou  touching;  "  Honoured  stranger,"  said  he, 
these  my  fing^ers  broke  through  the  "  my  business  is  that  of  a  leather- 
material  as  if  it  were  paper.  dresser,  and  id  one  of  my    cellars  I 

Andreas  now   came   up   and   said  :  keep  vitriol  in  bottles  for  use  in  my 

"What  have  these    men  been  drink-  trade,     in    another    the    wine  of    the 

ingp     Look  at  my  hands,  sir  1 "  country." 

They  were  blistered  In  many  places.  It  was  evidently  not  the  wine  of  the 

We  hurried  upstairs  and  inquired  of  country  our  irritated  and  violent  friends 

the  landlord,  who  was  now  thoroughly  had  been  drinking. 

To  be  Continued. 



J  AVE  you  ever  guessed 
How  this  world  is  blest 
And  redeemed  from  its  sins,  forsooth, 
By  the  happy  dreams 
That  shed  their  beams 
From  the  smiling  face  of  youth, 
Ere  the  wise  old  world 
Has  its  wisdom  hurled 
O'er  the  simple  path  of  Truth  ? 

A  mild  surprise. 

In  the  laughing  eyes 
Of  a  smile  so  pure  and  free, 

Showed  never  a  thought 

Of  the  dream  it  brought 
To  the  selfish  soul  of  me  ; 

And  my  spirit  shrank  "^J 

From  the  nectar  drank 
In  that  cup  of  purity. 

Subdued  I  felt 

As  1  meekly  knelt 
At  that  holiest  altar  throne  ; 

And  in  that  hour 

1  prayed  for  power, 
To  my  sordid  soul  unknown. 

To  worship  Truth 

In  the  heart  of  youth 
Ere  it  has  to  wisdom  grown. 

Frank  Lawstm. 

Digitized  b>;G00gIC 


By  Laura  M.  BauUon. 

IT  is  difficult,  soon  aftcf  crossing:  the 
Texas  border  into  Mexico,  to  realize 
that  one  is  still  on  the  work-a-day  North 
American  Continent.  Here  there  are 
quaint  and  mediaeval,  old-world  cities, 
and  very  interesting;  mining  towns 
founded  early  in  the  Spanish  dominion. 
One  is  all  the  more  appreciative  of  the 
charm  of  the  land  after  crossing  hun- 
dreds of  miles  of  arid,  treeless  desert, 
where  nothing  flourishes  except  a 
little  sage-grass  and  the  ubiquitous 

Once  in  sight  of  the  Sierra  Madres, 
there  is  much  to  interest,  though  it  is 
only  when  south  of  the  Capital, 
amongst  the  high  mountains,  that  the 
finest  scenery  in  the  country  is  tra- 
versed. Here  the  luxuriant  tropical 
vegetation  appeals  strongly  to  north- 
Some  eight  hundred  miles  from  the 
frontier  town  of  El  Paso  is  Zacatecas, 
one  of  the  oldest  mining  centres  in 
the  country.  Its  charter  as  a  city  was 
granted  by  Philip  of  Spain.  There 
the  flrst  Bonanza  silver  mines  of  the 
New  World  were  discovered,  and  a 
thriving  town  established,  despite  the 
drawbacks  of  a  scarcity  of  water,  and 
despite  what  even  the  optimistic  guide- 
books describe  as  an  "  inclement 

It  is  a  very  steep  climb  for  the  traiii 
up  the  Zacatecas  hills,  and  it  is  by  no 
means  an  uncommon  occurrence  to 
get  "  stalled  "  in  the  mountains  for 
lack  of  power  to  draw  the  heavy 
coaches  up  the  grade.  In  fact,  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  philosophy  is  useful  in 
(ravelling  in  this  country,  as  time  is 
no  object,  and  trains  arrive  and  de- 
part in  the  most  erratic  fashion,  with 
small  regard  for  such  mundane  af- 
fairs as  time-tables  or  connections. 

The  streets  of  Zacatecas  are  narrow 
and  winding,  paved  with  cobble-stones 
and  crowded  with  water-carriers  and 

donkeys.  The  latter  are  laden  with  sil- 
ver ore  from  the  mines,  or  with  pictur- 
esque-looking men,  who  wear  bug^e 
sombreros,  and  are  swathed  to  the 
eyes  in  gay  serapes.  This  fashion 
gives  these  cavaliers  a  tragic  and 
mysterious  air,  and  makes  them  look 
like  Ali  Baba  and  the  Forty  Thieves, 
or  near  relations  of  Joseph  and  his 
brethren.  The  houses  are  flat-roofed, 
and  either  frescoed  deeply  or  painted 
yellow,  blue  or  violet,  their  courtyards 
fliled  with  flowers  and  birds,  with  oc- 
casionally a  background  of  painted 
canvas  like  the  drop-scene  in  a  theatre. 

The  Hotel  Zacatecana,  once  the 
Augustin  Monastery,  has  an  imposing* 
air,  with  its  vast  corridors,  wide  stone 
stairs,  and  stone-flagged  court-yard, 
though  the  comforts  of  life  to  be  found 
within  its  walls  are  not  quite  in  keep- 
ing with  its  palatial  appearance.  The 
more  or  less  ra^ed  Mexicans  who 
form  the  hotel  staff,  add  to  the  incon- 
gruities in  this  "land  of  anachron- 
isms." The  ways  of  Mexican  hotels 
in  the  smaller  provincial  towns  are 
past  finding  out ;  there  is  no  ofiice 
and  no  visible  manager.  Once  in* 
stalled,  and  your  name  written  on  a 
blackboard,  you  are  left  severely  alone, 
with  no  polite  enquiries  as  to  your 
wishes.  When  you  are  leaving,  any 
odd  hanger-on  hands  you  a  bill. 

A  few  hours'  journey  across  the 
Zacatecas  hills  brings  one  to  Aguas 
Calientes  (hot  waters),  about  mid- 
night. At  present  a  night-time  arrival 
in  any  small  Mexican  town  cannot  be 
recommended  to  those  afflicted  with 
nerves.  The  natives  are  really  well- 
meaning,  but  until  one  is  a  little  accus- 
tomed to  them,  their  manners  and  ap- 
pearance are  a  little  startling.  A 
truculent-looking  Mexican  met  us  at 
Aguas  station,  and  presumably  offered 
to  show  the  way  to  the  Hotel  Paris, 
Shouldering  our  bags  he  rapidly  walked 


ahead  of  us.  Suddenly  the  guide 
plunged  into  a  dark  court-yard  and 
vanished,  leaving  his  charges  alone  to 
contemplate  the  beauties  of  Aguas  by 
moonlight  in  the  lonely  square.  It  was 
consoling  to  remember  that  murder 
and  robbery  are  not  as  prevalent  as  in 
former  days  in  Mexico,  owing  to  Presi- 
dent Diaz's  way  of  dealing  with  offend- 
ers. A  criminal  foolish  enough  to  be 
caught  is  first  shot  and  then  tried,  and 
(his  summary  method  has  rather  dis- 
couraged brigandage.  As  our  guide 
Temained  conspicuous  by  his  absence, 
there  was  plenty  of  time  to  notice  the 
illuminated  clock  on  the  Municipal 
Palace  on  the  other  side  of  the  square, 
and  the  beauty  of  the  open  belfry  of  a 
neighbouring  church.  At  last  a  muf- 
fled figure  approached  us,  and  was 
made  to  understand  that  we  wished  to 
be  shown  to  an  hotel,  any  hotel^as 
standing  in  the  Plaza  of  Aguas  at  one  in 
the  morning  was  beginning  to  be  tire- 
some. This  man  proved  to  be  quite  intel- 
ligent, and  at  onceescortted  us  to  a  hotel 
whose  proprietor  spoke  French.  Our 
bags  were  restored,  but  no  explanation 
was  forthcoming  of  the  so-called  guide. 
Aguas  by  daylight  was  found  to  be 
,1  ' 

a  charming  little  town  with  delightful 
baths,  where  the  hot  water  comes  bub- 
bling from  springs.  The  bath-houses, 
open  to  the  sky  above,  have  quite  a 
Pompeiian  air,  with  their  blue  and 
white  tiled  Hoors,  and  flights  of  stone 
steps  leading  from  one's  dressing-room 
to  the  water.  Aguas  is  headquarters 
for  linen  drawn-work  of  the  most  lace- 
like designs.  The  makers  ofthis  bring 
it  to  the  railway  station,  where  they 
add  to  the  general  confusion  by  selling 
their  wares. 

A  Mexican  station  is  most  entertain- 
ing, as  the  poorer  classes  travel  inces- 
santly, and  are  to  be  seen  at  most  places 
crowding  into  the  second  and  third 
class  carriages,  laden  with  a  miscel- 
laneous collection  of  cooking  pots, 
babies,  and  large  bundles  of  bedding 
containing  the  household  gods.  Smok- 
ing, and  eating  duke  are  the  chief  de- 
lights of  these  people,  and  whenever 
the  train  stops,  vendors  of  unpleasant- 
looking  mixtures  readily  dispose  of 
these  dainties.  The  large  trays  carried 
on  men's  heads  are  soon  deprived  of 
their  loads  of  sweet  potatoes,  fried  in 
grease,  or  some  other  equally  sticky 
and  tasty  delicacy. 



We  sincerely  hoped  to  reach  our 
next  destination,  Guanajuato,  by  day- 
light, but  the  train  was  delayed  at 
Santa  Maria,  whose  shrine  last  year 
was  visited  by  70,000  pilgrims.  The 
railway  officials  seemed  quite  unable  to 
cope  with  the  enormous  crowds  await- 
ing' transportation.  Thousands  of  peo- 
ple were  encamped  on  either  side  of 
the  line,  and  the  train  was  simply  cap- 
tured by  the  mob.  When  it  was  no 
longer  possible  to  force  one  other  in- 
dividual in  by  the  doors,  the  men 
hoisted  women  on  their  shoulders  and 
forcibly  shoved  them  through  the  win- 
dows. The  sight  of  two  scarlet-clad 
legs  finally  disappearing  after  one  su- 
preme shove,   made  us  wonder  where 

the  owner  landed.  The 
conductor  confessed  his 
inability  to  collect  tickets 
from  the  packed  human- 
ity in  the  third  class  car- 

Some  of  the  male  pil- 
grims were  extremely 
smart  in  tan-coloured 
leather  suits  with  silver 
buttons  down  the  sides 
of  the  trousers,  short  sil- 
ver embroidered  coats, 
and  large  sombrero  of 
beaver.  The  women  in 
the  northern  part  of 
Mexico  are  not  nearly  so 
picturesque  as  the  men, 
they  wear  light- coloured 
cotton  or  muslin  skirts, 
and  a  blue  or  black  reboso  draped  on 
their  head  and  shoulders. 

Guanajuato,  most  picturesque  of 
mining  towns,  is  huddled  into  a  wind- 
ings ift^rge  of  the  hills,  so  narrow  that 
steps  lead  up  the  steep  slopes  to 
houses,  built  one  over  the  other  in  the 
most  inaccessible  looking  places.  It 
is  more  than  three  miles  from  the  sta- 
tion and  can  only  be  reached  by  mule- 
trams,  which  tear  along  the  dark, 
narrow  road  at  break- neck  speed. 
These  trams  are  drawn  by  four,  and 
sometimes  six  mules,  and  one  man 
holds  the  reins  while  another  perpetu- 
ally lashes  the  animals.  At  last  we 
ne  su-  arrived  at  the  little  three-cornered 
where  Plaza  of  Guanajuata,  and  found  quar- 
ters in  the  Waldorf-As- 
toria of  the  place,  called 
the  Hotel  de  la  Union. 
Few  of  the  rooms-there 
have  windows,  an  upper 
panel  of  the  doors  open- 
ing to  let  in  light  and 
air  from  the  courtyard, 
where  doves  and  a 
screaming  parrot  held  an 
animated  debate. 

Standing  next  to  the 
old  Spanish  Cathedral  in 
glaring  incongruity  is  a 
modern  opera-house  of 
French  design,  built  at 
iiADALAjAEA.  cnormous    cost,  and  so 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



far  not  opened,  though  finished  twoyears 
ag'o.  Huge  stone  lions  guard  the  en- 
trance, and  bronze  figures  of  the  Muses 
adom  the  top  of  the  facade.  The  inter- 
ior has  a  charming  foyer  and  boxes, 
but  is  decorated  in  the  worst  possible 
taste  and  the  crudest  colours.  The 
public  gardens  here  are  filled  with 
roses,  violets,  lilies  and  bougainvilleas, 
shaded  by  feathery  pepper  trees  with 
their  bunches  of  red  berries.  On 
either  side  of  these  pretty  gardens  the 
'  haute  noblesse'  of  Guanajuato  have 
their  summer  residences. 

Distinctly  less  pleasing,  but  a  neces- 

The  Mint  and  the  de  Flores  Reduction 
Works  are  extremely  interesting,  in 
the  latter  the  primitive  method 
three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  ol 
crushing  and  reducing  ore  is  Still  ad- 
hered to  by  these  conservative  peopli 
and  the  work  ik  done  by  blindfolded 
mules,  after  what  is  called  the  "  Ps  '  " 
process,  where  the  muddy  mas 
ore  is  trodden  for  weeks  by  the  pa^ 
tient  animals,  knee-deep  in  the  mix' 

Travelling  through  Mexico  early  in 
December  one  has  the  good  fortune  to 
witness  some  of  the  "  fiestas"  or  f^tes 


sary  evil  from  a  guide's  point  of  view, 
is  a  visit  to  the  Catacombs.  These 
are  situated  on  a  high  hill,  surrounded 
by  walls  of  great  height  and  depth, 
containing  receptacles  for  coffins.  lo 
a  long  vaulted,  underground  gallery, 
are  placed  the  skeletons  of  those  whose 
relatives  did  not  pay  for  a  permanent 
place  in  the  walls  above,  and  whose 
remains  at  the  end  of  five  years  were 
removed  to  make  room  for  others. 

Volumes  could  be  written  of  mining 
traditions  concerning  the  days  when 
silver    "  was  accounted    as  nothing." 

in  honor  of  the  patron  Saint  of  the 
country.  Our  Lady  of  Guadalupe.  To 
her  memory  beautiful  chapels  are  dedi- 
cated, where  pilgrims  throng  from  all 
parts  of  the  country.  The  decorations 
in  these  buildings  are  frequently  of  the 
most  costly  description,  a  chancel  rail 
of  solid  silver  being  by  no  means  un- 
common. The  plans  of  most  of  the 
cathedrals  and  churches  in  Mexico 
were  drawn  in  Spain.  The  stone 
carvings  on  the  fai;ades  are  often  of 
great  beauty,  and  the  interiors  though 
tawdry  in  decoration  contain  choirs  of 

Digitized  by  Google 


inlaid  woods  or  of  carved  Spanish 
mahogany  and  silver. 

The  Christmas  decorations  in  some 
of  the  innumerable  churches  were  deli- 
ciously  original,  angels  in  white  muslin 
frocks  and  blue  sashes  being  pro- 
minent features,  with  whom  the  Apos' 
ties  in  doublet  and  hose  looked  a  little 
out  of  keeping.  Votive  offering's 
hanging  before  shrines  were  numerous, 
wax  arms  and  legs  and  braids  of  hair 
forming  a  large  proportion.  The  gay- 
est of  music  cheers  the  worshippers  ; 
selections  from  Norma,  Lucia  and  II 
Trovatore  are  frequently  heard  ;  and 
even  in  the  Cathedral  of  the  Capital 
itself,  a  two-step  played  upon  a  piano 
was  heard  during  High  Mass. 

ht  Guadalajara  where   a  "  Fiesta  " 

was  in  progress,  the 
street  decorations  were 
uniquely  pretty  and  ef- 
fective. The  national 
colours,  red,  white  and 
green,  were  festooned 
on  the  dome  and  towers 
of  the  Santuario.  Here 
special  services  attrac- 
ted the  usual  great 
crowd,  who  simply 
camped  in  the  neigh* 
bouring  streets  with 
their  cooking  pots,  and 
picnicked  there  until  the 
festivities  were  ended. 
-TEPEc.  The     warm     climate 

makes  an  alfresco  life 
no  hardship. 

Few  people  know  that  in  the  Sacristy 
of  the  Cathedral  of  Guadalajara  is  to 
be  seen  the  original  painting  of 
Murillo's  Assumption,  which  has  oddly 
enough  found  a  resting  place  io  the 
Cathedral  of  a  Mexican  town.  This 
Cathedral  and  the  Degollada  Theatre 
were  injured  by  the  earthquake  on  the 
3oth  of  January,  1900,  the  shock  of 
which  was  registered  by  the  seismo- 
graph in  a  Canadian  Observatory. 

Of  more    modern    interest  than   the 
old    Spanish     towns     just    described, 
though  it  was  an   Indian   (own  at  the 
time  of  the  Conquest,    is   Queretaro, 
where  the  unfortunate  Maximilian  made 
a  last  stand  against  his  unwilling  sub- 
jects.    Here    his    brief    dream    of    a 
Mexican  Empire  ended 
on    the   Cerro    de    Las 
Campanas,   June    19th, 
1867,  when  jn  company 
with  his  Generals,    Me- 
jiaand  Miramon,he  was 
shot     facing    the    city. 
Three  large  stones  mark 
the    place    where    they 
fell,  and  a  chapel  is  in 
course  of  erection  by  a 
Mexican    gentleman    of 
Imperialistic     sympath- 
ies.   From  this  hill  there 
is  a  fine  view  of  the  city, 
ing  it  and   the   moun- 
ARn.  taias    beyond.     In   the 

Digitized  by  V^i(.~'(.)'-^IC 


building  of  the  State  Legis- 
lature are  carefully  preser- 
ved many  melancholy  relics 
of  the  Emperor,  including 
the  rough  blood-stained 
coffin  in  which  his  body  was 
first  placed  after  his  execu- 
tion. The  almost  entire  ab- 
sence of  any  mementoes  of 
poor  Carlotta  is  quite  strik- 
ing, though  she  too  bore 
her  part  in  the  brief  Empire. 
With  the  exception  of  a  very 
inadequate  looking  bath  de- 
scribed as  her  property  in 
the  National  Museum  at  the 
Capital,  no  trace  of  her  is  to 
be  seen,  not  even  a  portrait, 
white  those  of  Maximilian 
are  many  and  varied.  Lit- 
tle as  the  people  desired  an 
Empire,  the  symbols  of  ma- 
jesty are  proudly  pointed 
out,  and  include  a  state 
coach  of  crimson  and  gold, 
a  copy  of  one  belonging  to 
the  Emperor  of  Russia,  and 
an  immense  silver  dinner 
service  of  truly  imperial  pro- 

The  usual  Fiesta  was  at 
its  height  at  Queretaro.    As 
our    fortress-like    windows 
overlooked  the  market  place 
where  it  was  held,  one  could 
look  down  upon  the  surging 
mob    that    surrounded    the      citv  of  m 
gaming-tables  where  roulet- 
te and  rouge  el  noir,  always 
prominent  features  of  religious  feasts 
in  Mexico,  did  a  thriving  trade.      Flar- 
ing   torches    lit    up    the   stalls   of  the 
vendorsof  "  dulc6"  (sweets  of  all  kinds) 
and  of  "  tortillas  "  (large  flat  pancakes 
of  corn  and  chili),  while  "  pulque,"  that 
most  repellant  of  national  drinks  to  a 
foreigner  was  apparently  as  nectar  in 
the  estimation  of  the  crowd. 

Large  opal  mines  are  near  Quere- 
taro, and  the  lovely  stones  form  one 
of  its  staple  commodities,  though  Hun- 
garian opals  are  frequently  palmed  off 
on  the  unwary  purchaser. 

The  traveller  who  enters  the  City 
of  Mexico  by  the  Mexican  Central  Rail- 

way has  a  chance  to  see  the  canal  of 
Nochistongo.   This  canal  was  designed 

and  begun  late  in  the  i6th  century  as 
a  tunnel  through  the  bills  to  drain  the 
Mexican  lakes.  The  Capital  was  con- 
stantly being  inundated,  and  some 
remedy  was  necessary.  Scarcely  was 
it  completed  at  the  cost  of  hundreds  of 
lives  and  millions  of  money  when  the 
roof  fell  in  and  the  gallery  was  slopped 
up.  Many  years  later  it  was  decided 
to  make  it  into  an  immense  canal 
through  the  mountains  and  the  tunnel 
was  opened  and  walled  for  a  distance  ot 
twelve  miles.  It  is  now  so  covered 
with    vegetation   that  it    looks  like  a 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



natural  gorge  being  immensely   wide 
and  nearly  200  feet  deep. 

We  varied  our  usual  programme  by 
arriving  at  daybreak  in  the  City  of 
Mexico,  an  unfair  advantage  to  take  of 
a  place  that  does  not  look  its  best  en 
dishabille.  Later  in  the  day  one  sees 
that  it  would  compare  favourably  with 
the  European  capitals.  Its  wide  streets, 
princely  houses  and  well-appointed 
carriages  are  an  unexpected  sight  in 
this  southern  land,  where  many  of  the 
provincial  towns  though  extremely 
picturesque,  have  a  rather  down-at- 
heel  appearance. 

Sunday,  17th  December,  1899,  was 
the  occasion  of  a  great  bull-fight  to  in- 
augurate the  season.  Toreadors  had 
been  imported  from  Spain,  Early  in 
the  afternoon  the  Mexican  world  and 
his  wife  turned  out  en  masse  on 
their  way  to  the  bull-ring  where 
Fuentes  and  Minuto,  the  celebrated 
toreadors  had  an  immense  success, 
from  a  Spanish  point  of  view,  though 
the  tortured  horses  left  to  die  in 
the  ring  could  probably  tell  another 

The  Bois  of  Mexico  is  the  Paseo  de  la 
Reforma,  a  drive  of  nearly  three  miles 
through  an  avenue  of  tall  Eucalyptus 
trees.  Down  this  road  passed  the  heroes 
of  the  bull-fight  that  sunny  afternoon,  in 
their  quaint  and  brilliant  costumes. 
Mounted  picadors  in  short  coats,  with 
broad  sushes  of  all  colours,  their  hair  in 
a  long  queue,  and  Spanish  turbans  on 
their  heads  ;  matadors,  equally  brilliant 
and  more  odd-looking  ;  and,  bringing 
up  the  rear,  a  victoria  and  pair  with 
cockaded  men-servants.  In  this  car- 
riage sat  two  haughty  individuals,  the 
successful  toreadors,  in  costumes  glit- 
tering with  gold  and  silver  embroidery. 
They  received  the  greetings  of  the 
crowd  wiih  cold  indifference. 

The  City  of  Mexico  has  many  amuse- 
ments to  offer  its  pleasure-loving  inhab- 
itants besides  the  weekly  bull-fights. 
Second  in  favour  to  that  sport  is  a 
Spanish  ball  game  called  "Fronton," 
somewhat  resembling  "  Fives,"  but 
much  more  diflicult  and  scientific.  The 
betting  on  the  different  players  runs 
high  as   the  bookies,    wearing  scarlet 

caps,  walk  up  and  down  selling  the 
players  and  shouting  the  odds. 

A  Polo  Club  is  to  be  found  there, 
and  also  a  Jockey  Club,  the  latter  urith 
charming  quarters  in  a  blue  and  white 
tiled  building,  the  towers  of  which 
were  brought  from  Constantinople. 
The  Monte  Carlo  of  Mexico  is  in  the 
Tivoli  Gardens,  a  suburban  resort, 
where  gambling,  especially  in  baccarat, 
is  indulged  in  to  an  enormous  extent. 
Gambling  is  the  national  amusement, 
from  the  highest  in  the  land  to  the 
ragged  street  arabs  who  risk  their 
sm^l  coins  at  stalls  in  the  street.  All 
the  gaming  establishments  in  the 
country  are  controlled  by  one  man,  who 
makes  an  enormous  income  from  the 

The  Paseo  ends  at  the  Park  of 
Chapultepec,  where  stands  the  castle 
on  a  rocky  height  in  a  grove  of  hu^e 
cypresses.  Wide  marble-flagged  ter- 
races surround  the  castle,  and  on  the 
top  is  a  roof-garden,  where  helioirope, 
roses  and  enormous  shrubs  of  pink 
geranium  flourish,  and  from  which  can 
be  obtained  an  unsurpassed  view  of  val- 
ley and  snow-clad  mountains. 

The  state-rooms  are  as  they  were  left 
by  Maximilian,  the  Imperial  monogran 
and  crown  on  all  the  appointments.  A 
painful  illustration  of  Republican  sim- 
plicity is  afforded  by  the  guide  who 
shows  visitors  through  this  lovely  place; 
no  liveried  menial  is  he,  but  a  ragged, 
bare-footed  Mexican,  apparently  suf- 
fering from  the  dry  season,  and  conse- 
quent scarcity  of  water,  and  looking 
strangely  out  of  place  in  the  abode  of 

Driving  in  the  park  and  Paseo  is  re- 
gulated by  the  most  stringent  rules. 
Mounted  soldiers,  generously  armed, 
are  stationed  at  brief  intervals  from 
each  other  through  the  whole  length  o( 
the  drive,  to  control  the  movements  of 
the  hundreds  of  carriages  and  horse- 
men which  are  daily  to  be  seen  there 
between  the  hours  of  five  and  seven 
p.m.  A  picturesque  caf^  stands  at  the 
end  of  the  Paseo,  where  coffee  and  ices 
can  be  enjoyed  while  listening  to  the 
music  of  a  good  military  band. 

In  the  National  Museum  is  a  unique 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

A    TRIP  TO  MEXICO  135 

is  carried  on  a  special 
iram  drawn  by  mules. 
Another  tram  follows 
containing  the  mourn- 
ing relations,  who, judg- 
ing by  their  appearance, 
regard  the  whole  affair 
as  a  very  superior  kind 
or  picnic. 

With  the  exception  of 
the  Hotel  Sanz,  table 
d'hote  is  unknown,  but 
there  are  numerous 
caf^s  and  restaurants 
where  the  enterprising 
traveller  can  order  na- 
tional dishes  in  which 
garlic   and   oil   play  a 

collection  of  Aztec  monoliths,  including      prominent  part. 

the  immense  sacrificial  stone,  covered  At  some  or  the  theatres,  of  music- 

th    barbaric    carvings,    only    found      hall  type,  a  rather  good  custom  pre- 


within  the  last  few  years.  Huge  stone 
figures,  deities  of  the  Sun,  Moon  and 
Water,  creatures  of  Buddha-like  ap- 
pearance, and  countless  grotesque  im- 
ages are  in  the  same  place.  The  Gov- 
ernment has  lately  taken  up  the  work 
of  excavating  on  ancient  sites,  and 
many  additions  are  constantly  being 
made  to  the  relics  of  an  extinct  people. 

The  Academy  of  Fine  Arls  contains 
some  good  pictures  by  native  artists 
and  much  prized  treasures  by  Murillo, 
Rubens  and  Velasquez,  presented   by 
Spanish  grandees  after  the   Conquest. 
In  one  of  the  galleries,  lined  with  pic- 
lures  of  saints  and  martyrs  of  pious 
memory,    hangs  a  portrait  of  Byron, 
looking    very     Byronic 
and    quite    out    of    his 
class.     And  again,  in  a 
slin  more  unlikely  place 
was  this  poet's  picture 
seen,    viz.,    in  a  dingy 
stall    of  the   "Thieves' 
Market,"  where  a  mot- 
ley collection  of  rubbish 
as   well   as  some  valu- 
able articles  are  offered 
for  sate    every   Sunday 

The  funerals  of  the 
poor  are  conducted  on 
quite  original  lines  in 
the  Capital.     The  coffin  ii 

tickets  for  one  tanda 
(act)  at  a  time,  so  that  you  need 
only  pay  for  the  turn  you  wish  to 
see.  The  writer  was  present  at  the 
"Principal"  the  night  that  a  ballet 
was  presented  for  the  first  time  to  a 
Mexican  audience,  with  some  misgiv- 
ings by  the  management,  as  the  people 
are  not  chary  of  expressing  their  can- 
did opinions.  The  ballet  was  of  the 
most  elementary  description  ;  and,  as 
the  verdict  of  the  pit  and  stalls  did 
not  agree  on  this  occasion,  the  nervous 
premiere  danseuse  and  her  assistants 
were  greeted  with  a  mingled  storm  of 
applause  and  hisses  from  the  crowded 

i  EX  ICO— THE 

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Among  the  many  excursions  into  the 
environs  of  Mexico  is  one  to  the  Viga 
Canal,  on  which  one  can  travel  for 
miles  in  a  Mexican  edition  of  a  Vene- 
tian gondola,  flat-bottomed,  canopied, 
and  poled  by  two  men  The  interest 
of  the  trip  lies  in  the  procession  of 
market-boats  laden  with  fruits,  floners 
and  vegetables  from  Santa  Anita, 
whose  once  celebrated  floating'  gar- 
dens have  now  taken  firm  root  in  the 
shallow  water.  Santa  Anita  reminded 
one  of  pictures  of  African  villages ;  the 
bamboo  huts  were  roofed  with  straw, 
and  the  inhabitants  decidedly  aborigi- 
nal in  appearance. 

Not  far  from  the  Capital  are  many 
delightful  winter  resorts  easily  reached 
by  those  who  find  the  high  altitude  of 
Mexico  City  trying.     Only  forty-seven 
miles  away,  over    the    mountains,   lies 
Cuernavaca,  possessing  a  climate  and 
surroundings  that  leave  nothing  to  be 
desired.     Here  was  the  favourite  home 
of  Cortes,  and  in  later  days  Maximilian 
too  built  a  small  villa  some  distance 
from    the  town,  to  which  he  used  to 
drive  along  the  good  coach  road  across 
the  mountains  that  is  no  longer  kept  in 
repair.     The  scenery  on  the  way  alone 
repays  a  visit  to  Cuernavaca.     As  the 
train  slowly  climbs  the  10,000  feet  the 
eyes  rest  on  a  glorious 
panorama  of  mountain, 
valley,    lake    and  river. 
Here  and  there  little  vil- 
lages far  below  look  like 
painted    squares    on    a 

The  ascent  continues 
through  deep  cuttings  of 
rock,  adorned  with  fes- 
toons of  maiden  hair 
fern,  and  brilliant  or- 
chid-like flowers  cling- 
ing to  the  walls,  whilst 
the  towering  snow-clad 
mountains  Popocatepetl 
,M*.  and  Izlaccihuatl  remain 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


ever  in  sight,  clear-cut  against  the  tur- 
quoise sky.  A  poetical  Indian  legend 
tells  us  that  Popocatepetl,  the  loftier  of 
the  two,  is  perpetually  mourning  over 
and  guarding  his  dead  sweetheart,  the 
"White  Woman"  on  her  snowy  bier. 
'  *  Races  have  come  and  gone,  but 
Popocatepetl  has  not  taken  nor  forgot- 
ten one  porphyry  wrinkle  for  them  all. 
His  look  is  high  and  Indian-stern  as  it 
was  when  the  first  European  .... 
came  prying  into  the  crater  for  sulphur 
to  make  the  gunpowder  for  the  Con- 
quest. " 

Cuernavaca    itself   is   the  quaintest 

The  Falls  of  San  Antonio 
are  greatly  prized  in  a  country  where 
water  is  such  a  luxury,  and  a  steep  and 
rocky  climb,  I30  feet  down  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  gorge,  is  rewarded  by  the 
setting  of  the  picture,  though  the 
amount  of  water  that  comes  over  the 
rocks  is  very  moderate  during  the  dry 

At  Orizaba  alone  the  Rincon  Grande 
is  always  a  raging  torrent  between  its 
narrow  banks.  This  river  is  fed  by  the 
snow-topped  volcano  that  towers  over 
the  village.  In  this  vicinity  are  large 
plantations  of  sugar-cane,  coffee  and 


place.  It  is  built  on  a  hill  between  two 
deep  gorges,  with  red-roofed  houses 
and  streets  and  lanes  made  shady  with 
oleander  and  pojnsettia  trees  in  blos- 
som. The  Borda  Gardens  are  here, 
whose  terraced  walks  and  wide  stone 
steps  leading  to  pools  and  mountains 
have  an  Italian  air,  the  winding  paths 
roofed  with  climbingroses  and  jessamine 
on  trellis  work.  The  caretakers  of  these 
charming  gardens,  by  way  of  contrast 
to  their  beauty,  have,  near  the  entrance, 
put  a  decorative  frieze  of  dead  wild 
cats  in  various   stages  of  dried  repul- 

bananas,  employing  hundreds  of  men 
and  owned  by  wealthy  individuals  who 
live  in  Paris  and  leave  their  estates  in 
the  hands  of  agents. 

Even  in  a  flying  trip  time  should  be 
made  for  the  journey  to  Vera  Cruz,  on 
account  of  the  magnificent  mountain 
scenery  through  which  the  Mexican 
Railway,  familiarly  known  as  the 
"Queen's  Own,"  passes.  This  line  is 
evidently  built  on  a  system  suggested 
bv  Elihu.  Vedders  "swirls,"  as  we 
frequently  met  the  engine,  apparently 
retracing  its  steps,  "  one  wheel  on  the 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



horns  of  the  mountain,  and  one  on  the 
edge  of  the  pit,"  while  thousands  of 
feet  below  a  river  rushes  through  the 
narrow  gorge. 

One  realizes  that  this  is  the  veritable 
tropics  when  at  the  stations  great  bou- 
quets of  orchids  as  well  as  of  roses, 
narcissus  and  tuberoses  are  offered  for 
sale  for  a  mere  trifle. 

Vera  Cruz  itself  has  no  intrinsic 
merits,  being  chiefly  remarkable  for  its 
northers,  which  blow  from  October  to 
"  March,"  and  its  bad  smells.  Most  of 
the  scavenger  work  is  done  by  buzzards 
which  sit  in  flocks  on  the  housetops  or 
strut  about  the  roads  waiting  for  dainty 
morsels  to  float  past  in  the  open  drains, 
that  run  down  the  sides  of  the  streets. 
Some  distance  out  in  the  harbour  is  the 
Island  and  Fort  of  San  Juan  de  Ulua, 
now  used  as  a  prison,  where  the  con- 
victs, miserably  clad  and  looking  ill- 
fed,  are  allowed  to  crowd  about  the 
visitors  and  offer  for  sale  trifles  made 
from  cocoanuts  in  order  to  buy  tobacco. 
Their  apparent  freedom  is  explained  by 
the  fact  that  any  attempts  to  reach  the 
mainland  by  swimming  are  futile  as 
sharks  abound  in  the  sea.  A  small 
man-of-war,  the  Zaragossa,  part  of 
Mexico's  little  navy,  was  lying  in  the 
harbour.  Visitors  were  courteously 
shown  over  it,  and  the  mechanism  of 
the  Maxim  and  Creuzot  guns  explained 
by  a  young  Spaniard  in  well-meant 

A  huge  dredge  is  constantly  at  work, 
taking  out  sand  and  making  Vera  Cruz 
a  safe  port  for  vessels  to  enter,  and  the 
most  interesting  relics  of  the  Spanish 
occupation  are  frequently  brought  to 
the  surface,  such  as  old  coins,  silver 
dishes  and  odds  and  ends  that  have 
been  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea  for  many 
long  years. 

The  return  journey  from  the  coast 
can  be  made  on  the  Inter-Oceanic  Rail- 
way. Like  the  Mexican,  it  is  a  narrow- 
gauge  line  with  Birmingham-built  carri- 
ages, now  shaky  and  old.  It  has  also 
the  proud  record  of  having,  at  least, 
one  accident  a  week  in  the  mountain 
slopes.  One  official  who  has  three 
times  been  hurled  with  the  whole  train 
down  the  Barranca  or  gorge,  thought 

the  matter  scarcely  worth  mentioning. 

Mexicans  are  the  mostimperturbable 
people,  nothing  surprises  them  or 
makes  any  impression  on  their  impas- 
sive demeanour.  Nothing  new,  noth- 
ing true,  and  it  doesn't  signify,  is  dis- 
tinctly written  on  their  swarthy  faces. 
This  attitude  may  serve  to  explain  the 
construction  of  a  foot-bridge  a 
deep  ravine  near  Jalapa,  four  strands 
of  barbed  wire  and  a  few  planks  loose- 
ly placed  on  the  wire  being  considered 
an  admirable  passage  way.  To  any 
one  cursed  with  an  imagination  its 
sketchy  appearance  suggested  hideous 

A  few  hours' journey  from  VeraCruz 
is  Jalapa,  renowned  for  its  pretty 
women  and  frequent  rains.  It  has  a 
background  of  mountain  topped  by  the 
volcano  of  Orizaba.  This  little  town, 
being  on  the  highway  from  the  coast  to 
the  Capital,  was  of  some  importance  to 
the  Spaniards.  They  maintained  large 
garrisons  in  the  vicinity  and  regularly 
patrolled  the  road  from  Vera  Cruz  to 
Puebla,  that  city  of  churches  and  tiles, 
whose  climate  and  situation  offer  small 
room  for  improvement.  From  the 
Fort  of  Guadalupe  three  snow-crowned 
volcanoes  are  in  plain  view,  which 
make  the  lesser  heights  around  the  val- 
ley, though  only  just  below  the  snow 
line,  seem    of   comparatively  modest 

The  lavish  use  of  glazed  tiles,  blue, 
yellow,  red  or  white  on  domes  and 
towers  as  well  as  on  the  entire  exterior 
of  houses,  has  a  brilliant  and  refresh- 
ingly clean  effect  in  the  clear,  sunny 
atmosphere.  Though  formerly  called 
the  "City  of  the  Angels,"  the  history 
of  Puebla  is  distinctly  military,  and  no 
place  in  Mexico,  except  the  Capital, 
has  seen  so  much  of  the  fortunes  of 
war.  The  interior  of  its  Cathedral  is 
imposing)  in  fact  the  finest  in  the  coun- 
try, although  the  Spanish  custom  of 
placing  the  choir  in  the  centre  rather 
spoils  the  effect.  The  floor  is  of  colour- 
ed marbles,  and  the  interior  of  the 
choir,  entered  through  richly-carved 
doors,  is  of  marquetry  work  and  con- 
tains beautiful  gratings  of  wrought 
iron.      In  the  domed  chapter  room  are 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



liangings  of  Gobelins  tapestry,  pres- 
ented by  Charles  Fifth  of  Spain. 

Eight  miles  from  Puebla,  across  the 
j^toyac  valley,  stands  the  ancient  Pyra- 
mid of  Choluta,  considered  to  be  the 
oldest  and  most  important  in  Mexico. 
This  pyramid  at  a  distance  looks  like 
A  natural  hill,  but  closer  inspection 
shows  the  adobe  bricks  of  which  it  is 
composed.  On  the  top  of  it,  reached  by 
steep  flights  of  stone  steps,  is  a  com- 
paratively modern  chapel,  where  once 
-stood  the  temple  of  a  Toltec  deity. 
This  was  promptly  destroyed  by  the 
Spaniards,  who  followed  the  arts  of 
"  missionary  and  marauder"  with  great 
2eal,  and  were  vandals  enough  to  ob- 
literate almost  all  traces  of  the  primi- 
tive civilization  and  peoples  that  pre- 
ceded them.  Modern  research  has  so 
far  not  shed  any  light  upon  the  origin 
of  Cholula.  It  has  been  suggested 
that  the  pyramid  was  built  by  Fire- 
Worshippers  who  chose  this  site  for 
their  Temple,  as  it  was  near  the  vol- 
cano of  Popocatepetl,  the  "  smoking 

A  pilgrimage  to  Cholula  is  :onsider- 
■ed  by  the  Faithful  to  be  a  very  worthy 
deed.  It  is  a  remarkable  sight  to 
-see  devout  people  going  on  their 
knees  from  the  top  of  the  steps  across 
the  rough  stones  of  the  courtyard, 
right  up  to  the  foot  of  the  altar,  and 
there  placing  a  stiff  little  bunch  of  flow- 
«rs  or  a  burning  taper.  Though  the 
power  of  the  priesthood  has  been  con- 
siderably curtailed  under  President 
Diaz,  the  religious  enthusiasm  of  the 
masses  is  still  very  warm,  and  at  what- 
ever time  one  entered  one  of  the  count- 
less churches,  kneeling  figures  were  al- 
ways to  be  seen  at  one  or  other  of  the 
shrines  and  altars. 

The  most  accessible  ruined  temples 
and  palaces  in  Mexico  are  to  be  found 
at  Mirla,  far  south  of  the  Capital,  un- 
der the  Southern  Cross.  To  reach  the 
vicinity  of  these  ruins  the  Mexican 
Southern  R.R.  follows  the  route  of  one 
of  the  exploring  parties  sent  by  the 
energetic  Cortes  to  spy  out  the  land. 
Instead  of  through  difficult  mountain 
passes  and  on  high  bridges  crossing 
gorges,  the  line  runs  through  the  bot- 

tom of  the  canyons,  following  the  river 
in  its  endless  curves.  The  towering 
bluffs  on  either  side  are  covered  with  a 
peculiar  kind  of  cacti  of  gigantic  size, 
and  most  grotesque  appearance,  called 

The  little  town  of  Oaxaca,  now  the 
terminus  of  the  railway,  was  unearth- 
ed by  the  Spaniards,  and  from  it 
Cortes  took  his  title  of  Marquis  of 
the  Valley  of  Oaxaca,  conferred  upon 
him  for  his  distinguished  services  by 
Charles  V.  of  Spain.  It  was  a  rich  in- 
heritance, with  its  timber,  marble, 
and  onyx,  as  well  as  the  tropical  fruits 
of  the  earth.  There  some  of  his  de- 
scendants still  live. 

About  25  miles  east  of  Oaxaca  is  the 
village  of  Mitia,  where  the  ancient 
temples,  whose  origin  has  puzzled 
many  generations,  are  still  standing, 
despite  the  ravages  of  time,  earth- 
quakes and  modern  vandalism.  The 
Mexican  Government  has  at  last  be- 
come alive  to  the  importance  of  pre- 
serving these  ruins  from  further  de- 
struction, and  has  placed  their  safe- 
keeping in  the  hands  of  responsible 
people.  An  organized  attempt  is  now 
being  made  to  excavate  carefully  in 
the  hope  of  finding  some  clue  to  their 

The  25  mile  drive  to  MitIa,  in  a  con- 
veyance drawn  by  eight  mules,  is  most 
amusing  and  interesting,  suggesting  a 
journey  to  the  "  back-of-beyond. "  Our 
Jehu  was  quite  up-to-date  as  far  as 
driving  was  concerned,  unlike  his  com- 
patriot at  Lake  Chapala,  who,  being 
unable  to  reach  his  leaders  with  a 
whip,  kept  stones  beside  him  which  he 
chucked  at  their  heads  at  intervals  as 
a  gentle  reminder.  The  road  lies 
through  queer  little  villages  composed 
of  bamboo  huts  roofed  with  straw.  The 
inhabitants  are  extremely  good-look- 
ing, especially  the  statuesque  women, 
clothed  in  a  single  white  garment,  low- 
necked  and  short-sleeved,  that  sets  off 
their  bronze  skin  to  perfection.  The 
men,  also  dressed  in  white,  seem  to  have 
reached  that  happy  state  when  "  no 
one  shall  work  for  money  and  no  one 
shall  work  for  fame,"  as  they  ate  and 
gambled  under  the  village  fig  trees,  or 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



attained  a  slate  of  Nirvana  on  a  sunny 
seat  smoking  the  inevitable  cigarette. 

At  MitJa  comfortable  quarters  are 
to  be  found  at  La  Sorpresa.  It  is  only 
a  short  walk  from  there  to  the  ruins,  to 
which  one  is  followed  by  a  flock  of 
small  children  in  the  airiest  clothing, 
who  loudly  demand  "centavos,"  and 
offer  the  visitor  little  clay  heads  of 
Sphinx-like  character,  which  are  con- 

stantly being^ 
dug  up  in  the 
vicinity.  .  .  . 
To  call  the  de- 
coration of  these 
halls  and  tern- 
pies  "mosaics, ' 
is  rather  a  mis- 
nomer, as  it  is 
really  "relievo" 
work  of  intricate 
and  most  effec- 
tive design.  In 
oliths,  the  huge 
,  stone  pillars 
have  neither 
!  hasenorcapital, 
I  and  the  door- 
ways are  form- 
ed of  equally 
large  blocks, fit- 
ted into  each  other  without  any  kind  of 
mortar.  Some  traces  of  Egyptian- 
looking  heads  on  the  stone-work  are  in 
a  building  used  as  a  stable  by  the  vil- 
lage priest,  and  the  dilapidated  en- 
trance of  the  little  school-house  is  sup- 
ported by  six  magnificent  pillars  of  so- 
called  porphyry. 

The  Spaniards  pulled  one  of  the 
buildings  to  pieces,  and  erected  a 
church  out  oi 
the  debris,  still 
used  as  a  place 
of  worship, 
where     a     very 

?■    MONOLITHS    i: 

lamp,  hanging 
in  the  centre,  is 
the  only  sign  of 
former  great- 

Although  to 
reach  Mitia  in- 
volves rather  a 
long  journey,  it 
is  well  worth 
the  time  and 
trouble.  Much 
of  the  charm 
wil!  be  gone 
when  the  ruins 
are  approached 
by  a  trolley,  a-; 

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-   DINING-ROOM    /I 

is    not    imtikely    in    the    near   future. 

So  little  is  known  ol'  the  history  of 
Mexico  prior  to  its  invasion  by  the 
Spaniards,  early  in  the  i6th  century, 
that  the  traveller's  interest  is  necessar- 
ily centred  in  the  country  in  its  still  in- 
tensely Spanish  aspect.  Few  traces 
of  its  former  people  are  to  be  found, 
and  then  only  in  the  shape  of  these 
ruined  palaces  and  temples  in  the 
south,  and  the  pyramids  of  Cholula 
and  of  the  Sun  and  Moon,  and  also 
the  huge  stone  Aztec  idols  and  rude 
instruments  now  in  the  museum  at  the 

The  beautiful  architecture  tobe  found 
in  all  parts  of  Mexico  is  due  to  the 
Spaniards  who  left  their  mark  on  the 
land  in  the  building  of  convents  and 
monasteries,  churches,  aqueducts  and 
palaces.     The    stately    convents    and 

monasteries  have  been  turned  to 
baser  uses  since  the  final  expulsion 
of  the  Jesuits,  Franciscans  and  Do- 
minicans from  the  country  nearly 
fifty  years  ago,  and  are  now  used  as 

The  great  strides  made  in  some  re- 
spects in  Mexico  of  late  are  due  to 
the  administration  of  President  Diaz, 
who,  for  twenty  years,  has  been  at  the 
head  of  affairs.  This  is  a  remarkable 
record  for  a  country  which  in  fifty- 
nine  years  of  this  century  was  govern- 
ed by  fifty-two  presidents,  emperors 
and  other  rulers.  Despot,  he  is  called 
by  some,  but  his  is  a  despotism  which 
has  imposed  at  least  some  nineteenth 
century  ways  and  means  on  a  peo- 
ple that  still  clings  fiercely  to  the 
traditions  of  nearly  four  hundred  years 

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Digitized  b,G00gle 



SCARCELY  two  years  ago,  a  tall, 
sunburnt  young  Canadian  came 
down  to  New  York,  fresh  from  the 
wilds  of  Lake  Temiscamingue.  With 
him  he  brought  a  heartful  of  hope  and 
a  pocketful  of  manuscript.  The  name 
of  this  young  Canadian  was  Arthur 
Stringer.  He  had  youth,  energy,  am- 
bition and  a  buoyant  temperament.  In 
two  years  he  has  suceeeded  in  making 
a  name  for  himself  second  to  no  other 
Canadian  of  his  years.  Before  very 
long  he  broke  into  that  established 
stronghold  of  American  literature, 
Harper's  Magasirte,  and  Mr.  Henry 
Alden,  the  veteran  editor  of  the  old- 
time  publishing  house,  at  once  set  his 
seal  of  approval  on  the  offerings  of  the 
young  poet.  Now  it  is  no  uncommon 
thing  to  iind  his  work,  both  prose 
and  verse,  in  the  different  magazines. 
Word  has  gone  about  that  there  is  a 
new  Canadian  poet.  It  is  no  wonder 
a  New  York  wag  once  said  that  you 
can't  throw  a  snow-ball  in  Canada 
without  hitting  a  poet. 

Mr.  Stringer  was  born  in  the  town 
of  Chatham,  Ont.,  on  February  26th, 
1874.  His  literary  tendencies  came  to 
him  through  his  mother,  who,  before 
her  death,  had  written  a  number  of 
beautiful  lyrics.  His  maternal  grand- 
father, too,  was  a  Dublin  barrister  and 
somewhat  of  an  author  in  a  small  way 
in  his  own  day.  '  The  poet's  father, 
Hugh  Arbuthnott  Stringer,  was  the 
captain  of  a  lake  vessel  at  the  time  of 
the  young  author's  birth,  and  perhaps 
thus  it  was  that  there  has  been  innate 
in  the  breast  of  the  son  a  love  for  the 
Canadian  Great  Lakes,  about  which 
he  has  sung  so  often  and  so  well.  In 
a  study  of  life  on  the  lakes  he  wrote 
not  long  ago:  "Next  to  have  been 
born  beside  the  sea  itself,  1  hold  it  the 
best  gift  of  the  gods  to  have  been 
cubbed  in  the  lap  of  the  Great  Lakes. 
What  sun-browned   child  of 

who  has  splashed  in  them,  what  boy 
who  has  tumbled  over  their  rollers, 
what  youth  who  has  trafficked  from 
quiet  Canadian  ports  to  busy  American 
cities,  can  ever  forget  those  scenes  on 
God's  great  canvas  ?  " 

Both  in  his  heart  and  in  his  work 
Arthur  Stringer  has  ever  cherished  a 
fond  remembrance  for  the  home  of  his 
early  youth.  And  herein  lies  one 
pleasing  feature  of  our  "  Sons  Beyond 
the  Border."  Amid  the  busy  scenes 
of  metropolitan  life  they  never  quite 
shake  off  the  influence  of  their  former 
environment.  In  Mr.  Stringer's  case 
this  is  especially  marked.  His  work, 
no  matter  whereof  he  writes  or  sings, 
is  fundamentally  and  characteristically 
Canadian.  In  a  life  marked  with  much 
roving  he  seems  always  to  have  gloried 
in  the  land  of  his  birth  : 

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Lie  the  Hills  oftfrey  Remembrance 
and  the  Valleys  of  Regret." 

Mr.  Stiinger's  education  began  at 
the  London  Collegiate  Institute.  Even 
there  one  finds  a  few  straws  to  show 
which  way  the  wind  blew,  for  there  he 
was  the  guiding  spirit  of  a  short- 
lived but  unique  school  magazine.  On 
graduating  from  the  Collegiate  Insti- 
tute he  entered  Toronto  University, 
and  from  that  time  his  literary  career 
may  be  said  to  date.  One  fine  day  he 
invaded  the  editorial  sanctum  of  The 
Week,  wherein  the  jovial  Mr.  Thomas 
Moberley  presided,  and  soon  after  his 
first  poem  went  out  to  Canadian 
readers.  It  was  that  irregular  but 
remarkably  beautiful  little  lyric  on 
"  Indian     Summer."      He    became    a 

frequent  contributor  to  The 
Week,  and  also  printed  a 
few  poems  in  the  Canadian 
Magazine.  From  his  busy 
pen,  too,  appeared  a  num- 
ber of  prose  studies  in  the 

Shortly  after  leaving  Tor- 
onto University  he  publish- 
ed his  first  volume  of  poems, 
entitled  "  Watchers  of 
Twilight."  It  consisted  of 
one,  long,  over- ambitious, 
transcendental  work  in 
blank  verse,  full  of  all  those 
failings  which  Coleridge  has 
said  should  be  in  every 
young  man  of  promise,  and 
also  a  number  of  lyrics.  His 
second  volume  was  publish- 
ed a  year  later  and  was  call- 
ed "  Pauline  and  Other 
Poems,"  Both  books,  I  be- 
lieve, are  now  out  of  print. 
fn  the  meantime  the  young 
writer  had  journeyed  over 
to  England  to  take  up  a 
course  of  study  at  Oxford 
University,  Doubtless  he 
has  been  greatly  influenced 
by  the  classic  associations 
of  that  venerable  institution 
of  learning,  for  I  can  recall 
nothingmore  delightful  than 
his  series  of  descriptive  ar- 
ticles onlifeatOxford.  From 
Oxford  he  turned  his  restless  feet  to  the 
Continent,  about  which  he  wandered 
for  a  summer. 

Now  poets,  like  other  human  beings, 
must  live.  Poetry  is  not  the  most 
remunerative  vocation  in  the  world, 
however  honorable  it  may  be  deemed. 
So  when  Mr.  Brierley  reorganized  the 
old  Montreal  Herald  and  offered  Mr. 
Stringer  a  position  on  his  staff,  the 
young  dreamer  got  a  chance  to  subdue 
his  overstock  of  ideality  in  the  stern 
battle  of  journalism.  But  a  broader 
sphere  of  activity  was  soon  open  to 
him.  The  American  Press  Associalion 
of  New  York  wanted  a  man  to  do 
special  work  of  a  high  literary  order, 
and  Mr.  Stringer  was  mentioned  as 
the  man    to     undertake    it      He  was 




accordingfly  invited  to  come  to  New 
York,  and  he  is  now  hard  at  work  in 
Gotham  shaping  out  his  career. 

Mr.  Stringer  is  still  a  young  man, 
but  his  has  been  a  busy  life.  His 
latter  day  verse  does  not  come  so 
frequently  as  of  old,  but  it  comes  with 
the  stamp  of  careful  workmanship  on 
it.  A  little  volume  of  quatrains  from 
his  pen  not  long  ago  delighted  his 
many  admirers  ;  in  fact  more  than  one 
critic  has  pointed  out  his  power  in 
handling  the  quatrain,  that  distinc- 
tively modern  form  af  verse. 

Now  Mr.  Stringer  has  a  new  volume, 
this  time  a  volume  of  prose,  the  sort 
of  prose  that  only  the  poet  can  write, 
delicate,  sympathetic  and  human. 
This  book  is  entitled  "The  Loom  of 
Destiny,"  and  is  made  up  of  a  series 
of  studies  in  child  life.  The  volume 
has  received  a  marked  degree  of  atten- 
tion from  the  critics,  and  deservedly, 
too,  for  the  author  in  this  case  seems 
to  have  a  more  than  ordinary  grasp  of 

child  psychology.  That  conservative 
magazine,  the  New  York  Independent, 
for  instance,  speaking  of  this  book, 
said,  "Mr.  Stringer's  genius  is  as 
clear  and  fine  as  sunshine  on  a  waste 
of  creaming  ocean  waves."  The  New 
York  Outlook,  too,  speaking  of  his 
treatment  of  children  said,  "  Never 
have  they  had  such  sympathetic  record 
of  their  joys  and  sorrows. "  While  the 
Louisville  Courier-Journal  went  so  far 
as  to  say,  "These  clear-cut  sketches 
are  equal  to  Barrie's  "  Sentimental 
Tommie  or  Kipling's  treatment  of  the 
child  in  fiction." 

So  Mr.  Stringer  may  be  said  to  have 
emerged  from  the  novitiate  and  is  now 
in  his  "Sturm  und  Drang"  period 
through  which  all  true  literary  workers 
must  pass.  He  has  already  done  much. 
But  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  what  he  may 
yet  do  will  dwarf  into  insignificance  by 
both  its  excellence  and  its  quantity 
what  he  has  already  accomplished. 

H.  A.  Bruce. 


T  OVE  reckons  not  by  time — its  May  days  of  delight 
Are  swifter  than  the  falling  stars  that  pass  beyond 
our  sight. 

Love  reckons  not  by  time — its  moments  of  despair 
Are  years  that  march  like  prisoners,  who  drag  the  chains 
the]f  wear. 

Love  counts  not  by  the  Sun — it  hath  no  night  or  day — 
'Tis  only  light  when  love  is  near — 'tis  dark  when  love's 

Love  hath  no  measurements  of  height,  or  depth  or  space, 
And  yet  within  a  little  grave  it  oft  hath  found  a  place. 

Lore  is  its  own  best  law — its  wrongs  seek  no  redress  ; 
Love  is  forgiveness — and  it  only  knoweth  how  to  bless. 

Vima  Sheard. 

Digitized  by  Google 


By  E.  R.  Peacock,   Upper  Canada  College. 

MAN  is  by  instinct  a  partisan,  and 
usually  extreme  in  his  partisan- 
ship. Uncompromising' judgments  are 
apt  to  characterize  his  opinions  of  all 
who  do  not  agree  with  him.  In  literary 
criticism,  as  in  other  things,  men  take 
sides,  and  woe  to  him  whose  work 
bears  not  the  marks  of  their  standards. 
"This  will  never  do,"  said  Jeffrey  of 
Wordsworth,  a  hundred  years  ago,  and 
the  critical  spirit  of  the  foremost  critic 
of  his  time  has  been  that  of  most  of  his 
successors.  In  praise  and  in  blame 
alike,  they  are  extravag'ant — hysterical 
flattery  or  absolute  condemnation — for 
the  most  part  there  has  been  no  middle 
course.  True,  Matthew  Arnold  did 
sound  a  protest,  and  honestly  try  to 
judge  men  and  their  works  by  the 
standard  of  the  best  things  in  literature 
rather  than  by  any  preconceived  literary 
dogmas,  but  even  he  was  too  prone  to 
include  under  the  scornful  name  of 
Philistines  all  who  saw  not  eye  to  eye 
with  him. 

So  sure  is  the  critic  of  the  soundness 
of  his  judgment  that  he  often  gets  into 
a  trick  of  omniscience,  and  not  content 
with  assigning  an  author  his  place  in 
his  own  age,  is  pleased  to  settle  it  for 
eternity.  But  omniscience  in  mortals 
is  a  doubtful  quality,  and  time  often 
leaves  the  critic  sadly  in  the  lurch. 
Who  now  reads  Martin  Tupper's  "  Pro- 
verbial Philosophy  "  ?  Yet,  some  thirty 
years  ago,  this  work  went  into  its  fiftieth 
edition,  and  a  leading  critic  said,  "it 
will  live  as  long  as  the  English  lan- 
guage ;  "  while  the  Spectator  assured 
its  readers  that  "he  has  won  for  him- 
self the  vacant  throne  waiting  for  him 
among  the  immortals,        -----    - 

seem  to  have  combined  to  praise  him 
almost  as  Tupper  was  praised  Of  his 
"  Paolo  and  Francesca,"  the  Saturday 
Jteviev)  says,  "  It  unquestionably  places 
Mr.  Phillips  in  the  front  rank  of  modem 
dramatists  and  of  modem  poets.  It 
does  more.  It  proclaims  his  kinship 
with  the  aristocrats  of  his  art,  with 
Sophocles  and  Dante,  •  *  •  •  • 
He  has  given  us  a  masterpiece  of  dra- 
matic art,  which  has  at  once  the  severe 
restraint  of  Sophoclean  tragedy,  the 
plasticity,  passion,  and  colour  of  our 
own  romantic  tragedy,  a  noble  poem  to 
brood  over  in  the  study,  a  dramatic 
spectacle  which  cannot  fail  to  enthral  a 
popular  audience  and  which  would  in 
mere  stage  eflfect  have  done  credit  to 
the  deftest  of  modern  playwrights. 
He  has  produced  a  work  for  which  I 
have  little  doubt  Mr.  Alexander  will 
have  cause  to  thank  him,  and  a  work 
which  would,  I  have  as  little  doubt, 
have  found  favour  with  the  judges 
who  crowned  the  '  Antigone  '  and  the 

Such  extravagant  flattery,  is  surely 
the  result  of  an  emotional  spasm  which 
has  momentarily  paralyzed  the  critic's 
sense  of  proportion.  Before  consider- 
ing the  play  however,  let  us  glance  at 
some  of  the  poet's  earlier  work. 

His  chief  interest  is  humanity,  and 
certainly  his  work  gives  evidence  that 
he  has  a  natural  gift  for  discerning  the 
subtleties  of  character  and  reading  the 
secrets  of  the  soul.  He  loves,  for 
instance,  to  pick  out  a  face  from  the 
crowd  on  the  streets  of  London  and 
reveal  the  thoughts  and  emotions  it  but 
half  conceals.  Some  of  his  efforts  show 
the  'prentice  hand  and  while  striking 

1  adopted  into  the  same  rank      are  not  poetic,  but  his  later  work  provf 

with      Wordsworth, 

I  hope  a  similar  fate  does  not  await 
England's  latest  literary  lion,  Stephen 
Phillips,    but   certainly    the    reviewers 

Tennyson  and  this  to  be  merely  the  fault  of  youth. 
Indeed,  the  steady  advance  in  the  power 
and  poetic  quality  of  his  work  is  its 
most  promising  characteristic.  The 
tragedy  of  human  life,  and  the  faith 


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which  overcomes  it,  especially  appeal 
to  him  and  find  expression  in  several 
poems,  of  which,  perhaps,  the  finest  is 
"  The  Wife,"  a  gruesome  but  powerful 
tale.  His  two  most  ambitious  efforts 
previous  to  "  Paolo  and  Francesca," 
were  "Christ  in  Hades"  and  "  Mar- 
pessa."  The  former  elaborates  a  strik- 
ing conception  of  Christ's  relation  to 
man  and  the  sorrow  it  involves  for  Him. 
There  are  several  fine  passagfes,  notably 
that  in  which  Prometheus  foretells  the 
sorrows  of  Christ.  But  the  blank  verse 
moves  a  bit  stifHy  as  yet,  and  there  is 
a  certain  lack  of  felicity  id  the  working 
out  of  the  idea. 

"  Marpes5a"is  a  Greek  Idyll,  based 
on  Marpessa's  choice  of  a  lover.  Apollo 
and  Idas  are  rivals  for  her  hand,  and 
she  chooses  the  mortal.  The  form  of 
the  poem  is  evidently  suggested  by 
the  famous  passage  in  Tennyson's 
"  (Enone,"  describing  the  award  of  the 
apple  of  discord.  The  sentiments  ex- 
pressed, particularly  Marpessa's  rea- 
sons for  her  choice,  are  modern  rather 
than  Greek,  but  perhaps  not  more  so 
than  Athene's  speech  in  Tennyson. 
The  imagery  and  setting  are  Greek, 
while  the  execution  is  always  delicate, 
and  often  exquisite.  The  verse  is  flex- 
ible and  musical,  yet  dignified — hardly 
the  verse  yet  of  "  Paolo  and  Francesca," 
—  but  an  immense  advance  on  theearlier 

There  is  a  fine  magic  of  style  in 
Apollo's  speech,  which  stirs  the  fan:y; 
look  for  instance  at  the  free  mastery  of 
rhythm  ia  the  following  lines,  and  the 
large  phrase,  warm,  ethereally  imagin- 
ative like  that  of  Keats  : — 

"  We  two  in  heaven  dancings, — Babylon 
Shall  flash  and  munnur,  and  cry  from  under  us, 
And  Nineveh  catch  fire,  and  at  our  feet 
Be  hurled  with  her  inhabitants,  and  all 
Adoring:  Asia  kindle  and  hugely  bloom  1  — 
Vie  two  in  heaven  running,  continents 
Shall  lighten,  ocean  unto  ocenn  flash, 
And  rapidly  laugh  till  all  this  world  is  warm," 

Idas'  avowal  of  love  is  one  of  the 
finest  passages  in  the  book — a  few 
liaes  will  serve  to  Indicate  the  subtle 
suggestion  and  delicate  phrasing  which 
picture  so  flnely  to  the  imagination  the 
intangible  charm  of  Marpessa. 

"  Not  for  this  only  do  I  love  thee,  but 
Because  Infinity  upon  thee  broods  ; 
And  thou  art  full  of  whispers  and  of  shadows. 
Thou  meanest  what  the  sea  has  striven  to  say 
So  long,  and  yeani^  up  the  cliffs  to  teJI ) 
Thou  art  what  all  the  winds  have  uttered  not. 
What  the  still  night  suggealeth  10  the  heart. 
Thy  voice  is  like  to  music  heard  ere  birth, 
Some  spirit  lute  touched  on  a  spirit  sea  ; 
Thy  face  remembered  is  from  other  worlds. 
It  has  been  died  for,  though  I  know  nnt  when. 
It  has  been  sung  of,  though  I  know  not  where. 
It  lias  the  strangeness  of  the  luring  West, 
And  of  sad  sea-horizons  i  " 

Before  passing  to  the  tragedy,  just 
one  more  quotation  to  illustrate  another 
side  of  Mr.  PhiUips' talent.  It  is  a  love 
lyric  this  time. 

O  to  recall  I 

What  to  recall  ? 

All  the  roses  under  snow  ? 

Not  these. 
Stars  that  toward  the  water  go  ? 

Not  these. 

O  to  recall '. 

What  to  recall  ? 

All  the  greenness  after  rain  ? 

Not  this. 
Joy  that  gleameth  after  pain  ? 

Not  this. 

O  to  recall ! 

What  to  recall  ? 

Not  the  greenness  nor  delight. 

Not  these ; 
Not  the  roses  out  of  sight. 

Not  these. 

O  to  recall  I 

What  to  recall  I 

Not  the  star  in  waters  red. 

Not  this : 
Laughter  of  a  girl  that's  dead, 

O  this  ! 

"  Paolo  and  Francesca"  is  a  poetic 
tragedy  in  four  acts  written  for  the 
stage,  at  the  request  of  Mr.  Alexander, 
the  well-known  London  actor.  It 
possesses  the  directness  and  simplicity 
necessary  for  successful  stage  produc- 
tion, is  lifelike  in  its  action,  and  above 
all,  has  a  clear,  tragic  plot-interest  of 
sufficient  depth  and  intensity  to  hold 
the  attention  and  touch  the  sensibilities 
of  the  ordinary  theatre  audience.  It 
is  not  a  mere  study  play  therefore.  The 
theme  is  old,  and  yet  ever  new — it  is 
that  form  of  love  which  since  the  days 
of  David  and  Bathsheba  has  offered 
perhaps  the  most  fascinating  inspiration 



to  the  poet  aad  to  the  dramatist — the 
love  for  another  man's  wife. 

Mr.  Phillips  is  a  bold  man  indeed  to 
seek  success  with  a  subject  to  which 
Dante  has  g-iven  a  setting  for  all  time. 
It  is  the  story  of  the  lovers  whose  un- 
happy fate  and  lasting  devotion  so 
deeply  touched  the  Italian  poet.  With 
his  wonderful  directness  and  brevity 
Dante  tells  their  tale  in  a  few  lines. 

"  Love,  that  in  gentle  heart  is  quickly  learnt,'led  him  by  that  fair  form,  from  me 
Ta'en  in  such  cruel  sort,  as  g;rieves  me  atill : 
Love,  that  denial  takes  from  none  beloved, 
Caug-ht  me  with  pleasing  him  so  passing  well, 
Thai,  as  thou  seest,  he  yet  deserts  me  not. 
Love  brought  us  to  one  death  :  Caina  wails 
The  soul  who  spill  our  life," 

cries  Francesca,  and  then  to  the  poet's 
eager  questioning  she  answers 

For  our  delight  we  read  of  Launcclot, 

How  him   love   thrall'd.     Ott-times   by   that 

Our  eyes  were  drawn  together,  and  the  hue 
Pled  from  our  alter'd  cheek.     But  at  one  point 
Alone  we  fell.     When  of  that  smile  we  read, 
The  wished  smile  so  rapturously  kiss'd 
By  ose  so  deep  in  love,  then  he,  who  ne'er 
From  me  shall  separate,  at  once  my  lips 
All  trembling  kiss'd.  The  book  and  writer  both 
Were  love's  purveyors.      In  ils  leaves  that  day 
We  read  no  more." 

Many  others  have  tried  the  story, 
with  but  slight  success.  Mr.  Phillips 
has  chosen  to  treat  it  with  the  utmost 
simplicity,  and  throughout  the  play, 
there  is  a  sense  of  calmly  wielded  power, 
of  strength  held  in  reserve  which  is 
admirable.  The  play  opens  abruptly, 
and  from  the  first  there  isan  atmosphere 
of  impending  tragedy  which  lends  a 
sober  background  to  the  beauty  of  the 
action.  The  consciousness  offate  grows 
upon  one  as  the  plot,  swiftly  and  with- 
out unnecessary  words,  unfolds  itself. 
One  finds  here  the  strong  influence  of 
Greek  tragedy,  so  evident  in  the  eaflier 
volume.  The  dramatist  never  allows 
himself  the  pleasure  of  a  poetic  out- 
burst, for  the  mere  beauty  of  the  poetry. 
Every  speech  springs  from  the  action 
and  is  necessary  for  its  development. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  does  not  bind 
himself  by  alt  the  laws  of  classic  drama. 
The  influence  of  Shakespeare  is  evident 
in  the  lighter  relief  scenes,  in  the  prose 

of  the  commonplace  speeches  and  in 
the  freedom  and  flexibility  of  the  blank 

There  are   but   four  characters    of 
much  importancetntheplay: — Giovanni 
the  stern  warrior  and  ruler  who  would 
fain  rest,  but  cannot,  because 
"  Though  1  have  sheathed  the  sword  I  am  not 

What  I  have  snared,  in  that  I  set  my  teeth 
And  lose  with  agony  ;  when  hath  the  prey 
Writhed  from  our  mastiff-fangs  ?  " 

And  his  younger  brother,  Paolo,  the 
handsome  young  soldier  of  fortune 
whom  Giovanni  loves  with  all  the 
warmth  of  a  strong  nature,  confined 
for  sentiment  to  this  love  alone. 

A   something   m 

Concordia  was  our  mother  named,  and  ours 
Is  but  one  heart,  one  honour,  and  one  death." 

Then  there  is  Francesca,  pledge  of 
peace  between  the  tyrants  of  Rimini 
and  Ravenna  ;  a  maiti 

"All  dewy  from  her 

a  beautiful  child  who 

" hath   but   wondered   up   at  the  white 

clouds  : 
Kaih  just  spread  out  her  hands  to  the  warm 

Lastly,  there  is  Lucrezia,  a  childless 
widow,  cousin  to  Giovanni,  and  hither- 
to his  faithful  housekeeper.  She  is  a 
bitter,  disappointed  woman,  "  Childless 
and  husbandless,  yet  bitter-true. " 

The  story  is  briefly  this  :— Giovanni, 
tyrant  of  Rimini,  a  famous  soldier  tiring 
of  strife,  makes  peace  with  Ravenna,  and 
to  cement  the  alliance,  arranges  a  mar- 
riage with  Francesca,  the  young  daugh- 
ter of  the  Tyrant  of  Ravenna.  Busy 
with  affairs  of  State,  he  sends  his 
younger  brother  Paolo  to  conduct  his 
bride  to  her  new  home.  It  is  the  old 
story  of  Launcelot  and  Guinevere,  each 
learns  unconsciously  to  love  the  other. 
Paolo  realizes  this,  and  true  to  his 
brother,  seeks  escape,  on  a  pretext  of 
war,  but  Giovanni  demands  that  be  re- 
main and  takes  every  opportunity  of 
bringing  the  young  pair  together. 




They  fig^ht  bravely  their  growing  pas- 
sioD,  but  fate  is  ag-ainst  them.  We  feel 
that  their  struggle  is  vain  and  we  love 
and  pardon  them,  even  as  Giovanni  did 
while  he  killed  them. 

The  blank  verse  is  handled  with  a 
flexibility  and  in  the  supreme  moments 
with  a  nervous  energy,  that  is  most 

Accustom  me  by  meri  _ 

To  this  idea,  which  henceforth  is  my  home  : 
I  am  strong — yet   cannol    in    one    moment 
think  it. 

Luc.     {So/ily.)     You  speak  as  in  a  trance. 

Gio.  Brinff  me  not  back  ! 

Like  one  that  walks  in  sleep,  if  suddenly 
1  wake,  I  die.  ( With  a  ay.)  Paolo  !  Paolo  • 

Lue.     Giovanni  ! 

Gio.  Paulo  !  ah,  no,  not  there  \ 

Not  there,  where  only  I  was  prone  lo  love  I 
Beautiful  wast  Ihou  in  the  battle,  boy  1 
VV'c  came  from  the  same  womb,   and  we 

have  slept 
Together  in  the  moonbeams  !  I  have  grown 
So  close  to  him,  my  very  flesh  doth  tear  1 
Why,  why,  Lucrezia,  I  have  lifted  him 
Over  rough  places — he  was  but  a  child, 
A  child  that  put  his  hand  in  mine  !     I  reel— 
My  little  Paolo  [  {He  OBOons  off.) 

The  moulding  of  those  lines  and  the 
psychological  depth  of  passion  they 
express  are  evident  reminiscences  of 
the  great  master  of  dramatic  language. 

There  are  passages,  of  quieter  beauty 
too,  where  we  find  the  melody  and 
tender  grace  which  Tennyson  first  gave 
to  blank  verse. 

Pao.    (Reading.)   "  Now  on  that  day  it  chanc- 
ed that  Launcelot, 
Thinking  lo  find  the  King,  found  Guinevere 
Alone ;  and  when  he  saw  her  whom  he  loved, 
Whom  he  had  met  too  late,  yet  loved  the 

Such  was  the  tumult  at  his  heart  that  he 
Could  speak  not,  for  her  husband  was  his 

His  dear  fariiiliar  friend  :  and  they  two  held 
No  secret  from  each  other  until  now  ;  " 

Several  of  the  critics  rank  the  play 
with  those  of  Shakespeare,  but  this  is 
adulation  run  wild.  "  Paolo  and  Fran- 
cesca"  is  an  admirable  work  and  of 
uncommon  merit.     It  is,  however,  the 

work  of  a  young  man  who,  while  he 
promises  gi^at  things,  must  as  yet  con- 
line  himself  within  somewhat  narrow 
limits  both  as  regards  dramatic  move- 
ment and  range  of  characterization. 
One  misses,  for  instance,  the  wealth  of 
close  living  characterization  in  Shakes- 
peare. But  four  characters  are  at  all 
carefully  drawn ;  the  rest  are  mere 
shadows.  Then  the  plot  is  kept  stud- 
iously free  from  those  secondary  intri- 
gues and  episodes  which  so  add  to  the 
richness  and  interest  of  the  older 
dramatist.  Again,  Shakespeare  gives 
us  not  merely  the  plot,  but  a  compre- 
hensive picture  of  the  time — its  very 
life  and  thought,  the  questions  and  con- 
flicts which  then  set  men  at  variance. 
But  here  there  is  none  of  all  that  The 
one  deep  ethical  problem  is  sufficient, 
and  fascinating  enough  it  proves  as 
the  plot  thickens. 

Without  foolishly  belauding  it,  the 
play  deserves  the  highest  commenda- 
tion. While  filled  with  passages  of 
rare  power  and  beauty,  it  maintains 
throughout  a  level  of  excellence  that 
is  exceedingly  high.  There  is  no 
bathos,  and  but  little  that  is  common- 
place. The  poet  holds  himself  well  in 
hand,  never  talks  atthe  top  of  his  voice 
and  gives  the  impression  always  of 
self  control  and  power  in  reserve. 

I  knowof  few  more  moving  passages, 
than  the  cry  of  the  lonely  Lucrezia. 

"  My  husband  dead  and  childless  left. 
My  thwarted  woman-thoughts  have  inward 

And  that  vain  milk  like  acid  in  me  eats. 
Have  1  not  in  my  thought  trained  little  feet 
To  venture,  and  taught  little  lips  to  move 
Until  Ihey  shaped  the  wonder  of  a  word  ? 

]  am  a  woman,  and  this  very  flesh 
Demands  its  natural  pan{(s,  its  rightful  throes. 
And  I  implore  with  vehemence  these  pains. 
I  know  that  children  wound  us,  and  surprise 
Even  to  utter  death,  till  we  at  last 
Turn  from  a  face  to  flowers  :  but  this  my  heart 
Was  ready  for  these  pangs,  and  had  foreseen. 

0  I  but  I  grudge  the  mother  her  last  look 
Upon  the  coffined  form — that  pang  is  rich — 
Envy  the  shivering  cry  when  gravel  falls. 
And   all  these   maimed  wants  and    thwarted 

Eternal  yearning,  answered  by  the  wind, 
Have  dried  in  me  belief  and  love  and  fear. 

1  am  become  a  danger  and  a  menace, 
A  wandering  fire,  a  disappointed  force. 



A  peril— do  you  hear,  Giovanni  7 — O  ! 
Il  is  such  EKiuia  as  mine  that  go  lo  swell 
The  childless  cavern  cry  of  the  barren  aea. 
Or  make  that  human  ending'  to  nigh  I -wind." 

That  is  a  true  cry  from  a  heart,  sick 
with  the  yearning  of  a  great  desire  un- 
satisfied. In  contrast,  note  the  lyrical 
swing'  and  power  of  the  picture  of  two 
souls  in  an  ecstasy  of  satisfied  love, 
defying  alike  human  and  divine  ven- 
geance. The  passage  indeed  is  a  bold 
aisolvitur  pronounced  by  the  young 
poet  from  the  penalty  to  which  the  stern 
justice  of  Dante  dooms  the  pair  in  the 
Inferno.  * 

Pao.  "  What  can  we  fear,  we  two  ? 

O  God,  Thou  seest  us  Thy  creatures  bound 
Togrether  by  that  law  which  holds  the  stars 
In  palpitating  cosmic  passion  bright  ; 
By  which  the  very  sun  enthrals  the  earth, 
And  all  the  waves  of  the  world  faint  lo  the 

Even  by  such  atlraction  we  two  rush 
Together  through  the  everlasting  years. 
Us,  then,  whose  only  pain  can  be  to  pari, 
How  will  Thou  punish  ?  For  what  ecstasy 
Together  to  be  blown  about  the  globe ! 
What  rapture  in  perpetual  fire  to  bum 
Togelher  ! — where  we  are  is  endless  fire. 
There  centuries  shall  in  a  moment  pass, 
And  all  the  cycles  in  one  hour  olapae  ! 
Still,  still  tog^cther,  even  when  faintsThysun, 
And  pasl  our  souls  Thy  stars  like  ashes  fall. 
How  wilt  Thou  punish  us  wfao  cannot  part  ? 
Franc.     I  lie  out  on  your  arm  and  say  your 

"Paolo!"  "Paolo!" 

"  Francescal" 

How  those  last  broken  sighings  of 
passionate  delight  melt  upon  the  ear 
and  sink  into  the  heart !  He  has  a  dainty 
touch  in  description  too,  this  artist  of 
the  soul,  and  seems  to  have  caught 
something  of  Dante's  pregnant  brevity, 
with  a  sweetness  all  his  own. 

Poo.  "  Now  fades  the  last 

Star  (o  the  East ;  a  mystic  breathing  comes : 
And  all  Ihe  leaves  once  quivered,  and  were 

Franc.   It  is  the  first,  the  faint  stir  of  Ihe  dawn. 

Pao.     So  still  it  is  Ihat  we  might  almost  hear 
The  sigh  of  all  the  sleepers  in  the  world. 

Franc.     And  all  Ihe  rivers  running  to  the  sea." 

*The  stormy  blast  of  hell 
With  restless  fury  drives  the  spirits  on. 
Whirl 'd  round  and  dashed  amain  with  sore 

Inferno,  Canto  V. 

The  closing  scene  has  been  criticized 
as  too  quiet  and  restrained  after  the  in- 
tense passion  immediately  before,  but 
here  again  Mr.  Phillips  has  preferred 
classical  to  more  modern  models,  and 
the  result  justifies  his  decision.  He 
scorns  the  factitious  aid  of  the  curtain 
at  the  supreme  moment,  and  sinks  to  a 
quieter  key  at  the  close.  After  killing 
the  lovers,  Giovanni  breaks  into  a  wild 
frenzy,  but  grows  gradually  calm  and 
closes  in  a  tone  of  sa^  reverie. 

In  his  madness  he  calls  all  the  ser- 
vants and  sends  some  to  bring  in  the 
bodies,  then  as  he  rushes  wildly  about, 
he  cries : 

"  The  curse,  the  curse  of  Cain  ! 
A  restlessness  has  come  into  my  blood. 
And  I  begin  to  wander  from  this  hour 
Alone  for  evermore. 
Luc.     (Rushing  to  him.)     Giovanni,  say 
Quickly  some  light  thing,  lest  we  both  go 

Gin.     Be  slill !     A  second  wedding  here  be- 

And  I  would  have  all  reverent  and  seemly  : 
For  Ihey  were  nobly  born,  and  deep  in  love. 
(Enter  blind  Angela  slovfy.) 
Ang.     Will  no  one  take  my  hand  ?   Two  Ute- 
ly  dead  ^ 

Rushed  past  me  in  the  air.     O  !  Are  there 

Many  within  this  room  all  standing  still  ? 

What  are  they  all  expecting? 
Gio.  Lead  her  aside  : 

I  hear  the  slow  pace  of  advancing  feet. 

{Enter  strvants  bearing   in   Paolo  and  Fron- 
cesca  dead  upon  a  litter.) 
Luc.    Ah  !  ah  t  ah  ! 
Gio.  Break  not  out  in  lamentation  1 

A  pause. . . .  The  servants  ttl  dr^n  the  titter.) 
Luc.     {Going  lo   litter.)     I   have  borne    one 

child,  and  she  has  died  in  youth  ! 
Gio.     (Going   la  litter.)     Not  easily  have  we 


o  this 

We  three  who  now  are  dead.     Unwillingly 
They  loved,  unwillingly  1  slew  them.     Now 
I  kiss  them  on  the  forehead  quietly. 
(//e  bends  over  thr  bodies  and  kisses  Ihtm  a» 

the  forehead.     He  is  shaken.) 

Luc.     What  ails  you  now  ? 

Gio.  She  takes  away  my  strength. 

I  did  not  know  the  dead  could  have  sucb 

(The  bodies  are  reverently  covered  m 

E.  R.  PeaaxA. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



By  P.  Y.  Black. 


'T^HE  g;irl  looked  up  at  the  sky  petu- 
-'-  laatly.  She  kept  in  the  shadow 
as  much  as  possible,  but  the  moon  to- 
night was  at  the  full,  the  sky  was 
nearly  cloudless,  and  thus  her  errand 
was  rendered  the  more  perilous.  It 
was  June,  yet  far  above  the  small 
plateau  oa  which  the  army  post  was 
built,,  snow  lingered  on  the  silent 
mountain  peaks.  These  glimmered  in 
the  moonlight  of  a  silvery  whiteness, 
illusive  and  unearthly,  as  if  the  great 
and  solemn  summits  were  now,  while 
men  5tept,thewatching-place  of  guard- 
tan  angels.  The  mountains  leaped 
suddenly  from  the  plateau,  blackly 
boulder-flanked,  with  depths  of  dark 
and  lowering  woods.  In  a  still  deeper 
black  was  marked  the  line  of  the 
caayoa's  descent,  where  the  melting 
snows  of  thousands  of  winters  had 
bitten  into  the  rock  with  deathless 
ferocity.  At  one  solitary  point  upon 
that  inky  line,  the  girl  noted  where 
the  moonbeams  gleamed  upoin  a  cata- 
ract, whose  foam  sparkled  in  the 
light,  a  diamond  set  in  ebony.  Thence 
the  waters  tumbled  down,  until,  from 
the  roar  of  rage  their  tired  voices  soft- 
eaed  and  sank  to  the  querulous  babble 
of  the  creek  as  it  ran  below  the  bank 
on  which  she  stood. 

The  girl  delayed  cautiously  in  the 
shadow  of  the  last  house  on  the 
creek's  side,  within  the  limits  of  the 
post.  At  last  there  fell  upon  her 
anxious  ears  the  call  of  the  trumpeter 
at  the  adjutant's  office,  almost  immedi- 
ately followed  by  the  bugles  at  the 
flag-staff,  witb  the  first  call  for  tattoo. 
She  ran  to  the  edge  of  the  shadow, 
then  tripped  across  the  stepping-stones 
and  vuiished  in  the  woods  which  cov- 
ered the   island  formed  by  the   fork- 

ing of  the  stream  just  above  the  post. 

It  stretched  a  mile  in  length,  of 
varying  breadth.  Over  its  whole  sur- 
face a  tangle  of  thicket  spread  and 
scrubby  oaks,  so  that  even  by  day- 
light a  wanderer  would  be  completely 
hidden  in  its  recesses  from  the  people 
oi  the  post.  By  night  a  battalion 
could  have  scattered  over  it  and  re- 
mained unsuspected.  The  girl  push- 
ed her  way  boldly  forward,  undeterred 
by  the  silence  of  the  thickets,  the  soli- 
tude and  the  darkness.  She  followed 
a  rough  and  stony  path  as  if  she  were 
certain  of  her  road.  Still,  when  she 
reached  a  little  spring  which  bubbled 
in  clear  space  just  beside  the  path,  she 
hesitated,  put  down  the  basket  she 
had  been  carrying  on  her  arm,  and 
bent  forward,  listening  intently.  But 
from  the  thicket  about  her  no  sound 
came.  The  girl  put  her  Angers  in  her 
mouth  like  a  boy,  and  from  her  lips 
came  one  long,  soft  whistling  note.  A 
bird  sprang  from  a  bush  near  her,  and 
aroused  some  others  by  its  flight, 
otherwise  there  was  no  response.  The 
girl  stamped  her  Foot  angrily. 

"  He  has  gone  without — seeing  me," 
she  muttered,  and  her  lip  quivered. 
She  picked  up  the  basket  and  started 
to  go  back,  when  she  paused  again. 
From  the  center  of  the  island  there 
floated  through  the  night  the  music  of 
a  violin.  The  girl's  face  instantly 
changed  from  anger  to  relief  and  joy. 
She  left  the  path  apd  ran  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  music.  In  a  minute  or 
two  she  had  reached  the  player,  and 
thrown  one  arm  about  his  neck,  while 
with  the  other  she  snatched  away  the 

"  You  foolish  boy,"  she  whispered. 
"They  will  hear  you  across  the  creek. 
Why  did  you  bring  the  violin  anyhow? 

"  Copyrighted,  1900,  by  P.  Y.  Black. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



They  will  track  you  all  the  better  if 
you  are  seen  carrying  it  ?  " 

"  Could  I  %o  without  it  ?  "  he  ask- 
ed in  surprise.      "Did    you    whistle? 
What  time  is  it  Katy  ?" 
"  Listen — taps." 

They  were  silent,  clasping  each 
other's  hands  until  the  call  ended.  The 
violin-player  sighed. 

"  I  shall  never  hear  it  again,"  he 
said,  "  I  hope." 

"  Well,"  said  the  girl  practically, 
"  If  you  don't  want  to  hear  the  bugles 
again  you  must  be  off  at  once. 

"Not  yet,  Katy  dear,"  he  said. 
"  Give  me  the  bow,  and  1  will  play 
you  a  farewell — no,  not  a  farewell, 
only  a  song  to  the  time  when  we  will 
meet  again." 

The  girl  shook  her  head,  and  held  the 
bow  away  from  his  reaching  hand.  The 
moonlight  burst  through  the  leaves 
above,  and  shone  upon  them.  He  was 
in  the  army  uniform  ;  his  cap  bore  the 
band's  device.  He  was  very  young, 
almost  a  boy.  His  form  was  slight ; 
his  smooth  face  was  litup  by  two  great, 
far-a-way,  brown  eyes.  The  girl  was 
different.  Her  wilful  face  was  strong. 
Her  black  eyes  glowed  with  passion 
and  purpose  ;  there  seemed  little  in 
them  to  respond  to  the  dreaminess  of 
the  lad's.  Yet  now  she  threw  her 
arm  around  his  neck  and  patted  his 
cheek  affectionately,  protectingly. 

"I  believe  you  love  your  violin  more 
than  you  do  me,"  she  whispered. 
"What  an  idea,  Noel,  it  was  for  you 
to  enlist.  I  always  hated  a  deserter, 
but  with  you — it  is  different." 

"I  am  free,"  he  cried  in  exultation. 
"  Not  quite  yet,"she  said,  petting  his 
cheek  as  if  he  were  a  child  ;  and  then 
opened  her  basket. 

"Eat,  now,"  she  said,  "and  1  will 
tell  you  all  I  have  h(ard.  I  don't  think 
they  would  even  bother  to  send  out 
after  you,  if  it  were  not  for  Lieut. 
Wynn,  the  adjutant.  It  is  not  as  if 
you  were  a  trooper  in  the  ranks.  You 
play  the  fiddle  very  beautifully,  and 
the  cornet  in  the  band  fairly  well,  but, 
you  know,  an  able-bodied  private  is 
worth  five  of  you." 

"Not   to  me,  dear,"  she  whispered. 
"  No,   they  would   let  you  go  but  you 
insulted  the  adjutant — " 

"Well, you  told  him  the  nasty  truth, 

which  is  the  same  thing,  and  you  know 

what  he  is.      I  am  afraid  when  he  finds 

you  missing  at  tattoo  he  will  send  out  a 

detail.     That  is  why  I  said  you  must  be 

off  at  once.    I   have  mapped  out  your 

road.     You  have  plenty  of  money,  but 

you  ought  to  leave  the  violin  behind." 

"I  couldn't,"  said  he,  quietly. 

"Very  well,"  she  said,  "but  look." 

From    the  bottom  of  the  basket  she 

took  out  some  citizen  clothes. 

"  Of  course  you  won't  keep  to  the 
trails,"  she  said,  "but,  even  on  the 
plain,  until  you  reach  the  railroad,  you 
must  not  wear  the  uniform." 

"  You  are  my  angel,"  he  said.  "  i 
never  thought  of  it — I  just  wi^ed  to  go 
away,  to  be  alone  with  the  violin,  far 
from  those  —  those  fellows  —  to  be 

"I  know,  dear,"  she  said  sympath- 
etically,  "I    know.     The    army  is   no 
place  for  you.      Now  you  must  be  off." 
"Katy,"  he  said,  "couldn't  you  come 
too — now,  I  mean." 

She  shook  her  head,  and  laughed. 
"When  you  are  settled  down,  wher- 
ever it  is,  write    and    I  will    come — I 
promise,  Noel," 

"  My  dearest,  it  won't  be  long." 
Before  the  last  note  of  taps  had  died 
sadly  away  in  the  hills,  there  was  silent 
bustle  at  the  stables.  Sleepy  and 
growling  men  were  throwing  the  sad- 
dles on  the  horses,  and  leading  them 
out,  until  half  a  troop  was  formed.  As 
they  came  Corp.  Mealy  turned  to  the 
sergeant   in  charge. 

"An  what  the  devil's  eating  the  ad- 
jutant now,  sergeant  ?"  he  asked  with 

"Deserter,"said the  sergeant  briefly. 
"  Faval  of  the  band." 

Healy  swore  gently. 

"A  bandsman!  The  wee  man  that 
plays  the  fiddle  ?  Is  it  him  we're  mak- 
ing all  this  fuss  about?  Begad  an' 
begob  there's  bin  ten  good  men  taken 
a  walk  in  the  year,  an'  we  let  'em  go, 
an'  now  we're  after  a  half-built  man,  a 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



fiddler,  whin  the  blankets  is  hungry 
for  us  1     Let  him  go." 

"  So  say  I,"  said  the  sergeant  sul- 
lenly. "  Prepare  to  mount!  Mount! 
Right  by  twos,  march  !     No  talking." 

They  left  the  post  aird  silently  trot- 
ted down  the  road  to  the  creek.  There 
they  advanced  by  tiles,  and  crossed  to 
the  island.  One  by  one  they  dis- 
appeared in  the  shadows  of  the  scrub 

"  Katy,  Katy,"  said  the  deserter.  "  I 
am  free,  yet  not  free.  Until  you  come 
to  me  my  heart  must  still  be  in  the 
post  with  you." 

He  had  eaten,  had  been  in  the 
thicket  and  changed  his  clothes,  had 
received  his  last  instructions  from  the 
girl  on  the  road  he  should  go,  and  now 
they  were  standing  again  in  the  moon- 
light, and  his  arms  were  around  her. 

They  stayed  a  little  while  yet,  and 
from  across  the  creek  came  the  hoarse 
voices  of  the  sentries  on  post — "  Half- 
past  ten  and  all's  well." 

"  Now,  Noel,  now  1  You  must  have 
a  good  start.  They  won't  go  after  you 
until  morning,  and  by  that  time  you 
should  have  bought  a  horse  and  be  well 
on  the  way  to  the  railroad.  Goodby, 
dear,  goodby  !  What  I  Listen  !  What 
was  that?" 

They  separated  suddenly,  and  stood, 
lips  apart,  listening.  Down  the  island 
was  a  crushing  of  leaves  and  crashing 
of  branches  and  the  snort  of  a  horse. 
The  deserter's  face  blanched,  and  he 
threw  his  arms  up  despairingly. 

"  Already !  "  he  cried.  "  They  have 
suspected  it  already  !  " 

The  girl's  face,  too,  was  white,  but 
she  did  not  despair. 

"  Quick  !  "  she  whispered.  "  Make 
for  the  canyon — the  mountain!  Quick! 
They  will  only  search  the  island  ! 
Quick  !  Quick  !  Fly  !  O,  Noel,  fly  !  " 

He  hesitated.      He  was  bewildered. 

"  But  where,"  he  cried,  "where  is 
my  violin  ?  " 

She  took  it  from  the  rock  and  gave 
it  him,  impatiently. 

"  Fly,"shesaid.  "Oh,  quick,  quick, 
quick ! " 

The  trampling  of  the  horses  was  now 
distinctly  heard,  and  the  command  of 

Sergeant  Holmes,  "To  ten  yards 
close  distance  ! "  The  girl  pushed  her 
lover  from  her,  and  at  last  he  went, 
She  turned  and  ran  back  to  the  creek. 
She  sank  down  with  a  cry  of  despair. 
From  the  upper  end  of  the  island  came 
the  noise  of  more  horses,  of  another 
command  in  another  voice,  that  of  Ad- 
jutant Wyno. 

She  listened  breathlessly,  and  soon 
she  hdard  a  sharp  challenge — "  Who 
goes  there?  Halt,  or  you'll  be  fired 
en  !    Faval  ?  " 

There  was  a  pause,  and  a  moment- 
ary scuffle,  and  a  petulant  boyish  cry 
of  rage.  Then  came  the  officer's  quiet 
searching  voice, 

"  Got  him  ?  Ahl  1  fancy  he  must 
be  cold  lying  out  here.  Take  him  to 
the  guardhouse,  sergeant,  where  he 
can  get  warm." 

The  girl,  white  and  trembling,  slip- 
ped silently  across  the  stepping  stones. 

"You  fool, "said  Sei^eant  Holmes  to 
his  prisoner,  you  should  have  been 
miles  away.  What  made  you  hang 
around  here  ?  Do  you  suppose  I  wish- 
ed to  catch  you?" 

The  unhappy  musician  looked  up  at 
the  grim  sergeant's  scarred  and  ugly 
face  wrath  fully. 

"You  are  farther  away  from  her 
than  ever  now,"  he  said. 

Mrs.  Malone's  moods  were  at  most 
times  uncertain,  but  for  weeks  shfr  had 
been  without  even  a  temporary  relapse 
into  amiability,  unless,  indeed,  toward 
the  morose  and  taciturn  Sergt.  Holmes. 
Katy  Malonc,  her  daughter,  and  First 
Sergt.  Maione,  her  husband,  found  it 
more  comfortable  to  be  out  at  the 
house  as  much  as  possible.  It  was  a 
month  after  the  capture  of  Noel  Faval 
when  Mrs.  Maione  found  herself  alone 
with  Holmes.  That  happened  fre- 
quently. The  sergeant's  vis  its  to  Katy's 
home  were  the  gossip  of  the  post,  for 
Holmes  was  not  popular.  Every  one 
knew  that  his  face  was  honorably  scar- 
red by  an  Indian  knife,  but  chiefly  be- 
cause of  his  gloom,  his  unsociability, 
and  the  sudden  storms  of  passion  which 
convulsed  him  when  crossed.     Fifteen 




years  in  the  service,  he  had  never  made 
a  friend,  and,  the  men  said,  had  saved 
the  greater  part  of  his  pay.  They 
added  that  his  savings  were  the  sole 
reason  he  was  welcomed  in  the  house 
of  mother  Malone. 

"  She's  the  divil  ivada'ter,  sargeant, 
so  she  is,"  said  Mrs.  Malone  in  tears, 
"an  ongrateful  child,  so  she  is.  Luk 
what  I've  done  for  her^scraped  an' 
saved,  an'  saved,  an'  scraped  an' sint 
her  at  last  to  the  convent  to  be  eddi- 
cated  an'  made  a  lady.  It's  yerself, 
sergeant,  knows  that  same,  sure,  an' 
grateful  is  Michael  Malone  an'  meself 
fur  the  help  you  gave.  We're  not  on- 
grateful,  an'  it'll  be  paid  back — " 

"  I  wish  you  would  say  nothing 
about  it,"  said  Holmes,  uneasily. 

Mrs.  Malone  wiped  her  eyes  and 
raised  her  finger. 

"  Yez  ave  been  a  good  friend  'to 
Mike  an'  me  an'  to  Katy,"  she  said, 
"an'  nivir  a  lad  shall  have  the  girl 
wid  my  lave,  save  yerself,  Holmes,  so 
there,  an'  the  wee  fiddler's  out  of  the 
way  anyhow.  Should  we  be  after 
hearin'  the  sintince  of  the  court  mar- 
tial, sergeant?" 

"  The  sentence?  Faval?  Any  day, 
now,"  Holmes  said, 

"  It'll  be  two  years  for  sure,"  she 
went  on,  "maybe  four,  for  spakin' 
back  to  the  adjutant  himself.  Two 
years  in  the  prison  at  Leavenworth  will 
give  Mistress  Katy  time  to  forget  him. 
Ye  must  be  patient  Holmes,  an'  fur 
the  bit  o'  money  ye've  lint  me — " 

"  D — n  the  money,"  cried  Holmes, 
jumping  to  his  feet,  ' '  Do  you  want  me 
to  wait  two  years  for  her  ?  Two  years 
more  ?  Have  I  been  coming  here  so 
often  for  years,  and  yet  you  cannot 
understand  ?  Mrs.  Malone,  Mrs.  Ma- 
lone, I  can't  wait  I  can't  wait  longer. 
Since  she  was  a  child  at  the  Post  school 
I've  loved  her,  and  God  knows  that  I'd 
give  my  life  for  her,  to  do  the  smallest 
thing  she  bid  me — the  smallest.  She 
liked  me  once — she  was  learning  to 
love  me — I  know  it,  but  this,  this 
thing,  this  half-French  fiddler  be- 
witched her.  And  now  you  want  me 
to  waitl  Two  years — I  can't.  I — I 
love    her ;    I    worship    her.      I — I'm 

burning  up  —  I'm   mad  about   her!" 

He  frightened  Mother  Malone.  He 
dropped  back  in  his  chair,  hiding  his 
face  in  his  hands.  Tears  trickled 
through  his  fingers,  and  his  big  form 
shook.  Mrs.  Malone,  calloused  and 
withered  by  the  long  struggle  of  years, 
was  not  yet  so  hardened  as  not  to  be 
touched  by  the  man's  naked  avowal. 

"  Whatever  the  boys  says,  Holmes," 
she  said  softly,  "  an'  they're  an  ig'runt 
lot  uv  min,  ye're  a  good  man,  an'  a 
true  man,  an'  Katy  ye'll  have  if  her 
mother  has  got  a  word  to  say." 

The  door  burst  open  and  a  young- 
ster came  rushing  in  with  a  shout — 
little  Herman  of  the  band,  son  of  the 
leader,  and  the  delight  and  terror  of 
the  post. 

"Mother  Malone!"  he  shouted. 
' '  Have  you  any  eggs  ?  I  want  six  eggs 
with  fried  ham — cut  it  thick — and  have 
you  any  biscuits?  Give  us  some 
strong  coffee,  too,  with  lots  of  milk, 
and    charge    it    to    me   till    pay    day.  { 

Supper   was   rotten — mush    and    mo-  I 

lasses.     Halloa,  Sergt.  Holmes  I  "  | 

"  Ye    rat ! "    cried    Mrs.     Malone.  j 

"  Six  eggs,  he  says,  and  cut  the  ham  j 

thick  !     An'  him  stuffed   full   of  mush  j 

and    molasses !     Come   here,   ye  wee  i 

divil,  till  I  spank  yez."  | 

The  boy  was  used   to  varied  marks  j 

of  affection,  but  he  kicked  vehemently  i 

as   Mother    Malone    caught    him    up,  I 

lifted  him  high  and  kissed  him  loudly 
OD  each  cheek. 

"  That's  a  nice  way  to  behave  to  the 
men  !  "  he  cried,  as  he  was  let  down, 
rubbing  his  blushing  cheeks.  "What 
would  Malone  say  if  I  told  him  ?  " 

"Eh!  hark  to  him  !"  laughed  Mother 
Malone,  as  she  began  to  crack  eggs 
on  the  edge  of  the  frying  pan.  "Is 
there  any  news  about  Faval,  Her- 
man? " 

Holmes  was  on  the  threshold,  pass- 
ing out,  but  turned  to  listen. 

"Faval!  Yes,  it's  a  shame!  No 
wonder  he  ran  away,  with  the  adjutant 
and  the  band  sergeant  down  on  him  all 
the  time,  and  he  knows  more — " 

"  What  news?"  asked  Mrs.  Malone 
impatiently,  and  Holmes  stood  wait- 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


*'  Why,  the  order  was  read  out  at 
retreat — dishonorable  discharge,  for- 
feiting alt  pay  and  allowance  and  so  on 
and  three  years  in  Leavenworth," 

"Three  years  in  Leavenworth  ! " 
cried  Mrs.  Malone.  "  Three  years — 
well,  well  !  Did  ye  hear  that,  Sergt. 
Holmes?  There's  many  a  thing  will 
be  foi^otten  in  three  years,  Holmes." 

But  Holmes  was  already  striding 
away  through  the  gathering  dusk. 

Holmes  turned  his  back  on  the  post 
and  strode  out  across  the  bluffs  toward 
the  river.  For  a  long,  longtime  now 
he  had  been  used  to  take  these  solitary 
evening  walks,  rain  or  shine,  to  tire 
out  the  passion  in  his  hreast  Scar- 
red, alone  in  the  world  since  he  remem- 
bered  anything,  he  had  never  loved  a 
living  thing  until  now,  and  having 
loved  with  all  the  might  of  a  rushing, 
long  suppressed  flood,  he  found  he  had 
dashed  himself  against  a  rock.  He 
had  to-night  but  one  clear  thought  in 
his  throbbing  head.  Noel  Faval  was 
out  of  the  way — out  of  the  way — out 
of  the  way.  The  words  rang  in  his 
ears.  It  gave  him  a  chance.  For  the 
slim  lad  Faval  he  had  nothing  but 
contemptuous  pity.  He  was  out  o 
the  way.  His  bewitching  music,  his 
big  brown  eyes,  his  slender,  graceful 
form  would  be  heard  and  seen  no  more. 
That  fancy  would  be  forgotten,  and  he 
(Holmes)  would  have  another  chance. 
S  omused  the  sergeant,  and  the  devil 
of  bitterness  gradually  gave  place  to 
the  angel  of  hope,  and  at  last  by  the 
bank  of  the  river  he  came  upon  the 
girl.  She  was  lying  in  the  grass,  her 
face  buried  in  her  arms,  her  black  hair 
loose  and  her  whole  form  shaken  vnth 
great  sobs.  Holmes  dropped  on  one 
knee  beside  her  and  dared  in  his 
agitation  to  lay  his  hand  on  her  head. 

"  Katy,"  he  said.     "  Katy  dear  1  " 

She  sprang  up  ;  her  great  black  eyes 
£-leamed  angrily  on  him  ;  she  clenched 
her  hands. 

"  What  do  you  want  here  ?  "  she 
sobbed.  Can't  you  leave  me  alone  P 
I  hate  you.  It  is  you  who  did 
this  !  " 

He  hung  his  head  passively,  and 

"What  have  I  done  to  make  you 
hate  me,  Katy  ?  "  he  slowly  whisper- 
ed. "  You  didn't  use  to  before — Faval 

"  And  you  arrested  him  I " 

"  Why  did  not  the  fool  go  away  at 
once  P  What  could  I  do  P  I  was  de- 
tailed ;  it  was  my  duty." 

"And  now  they  have  sentenced  him 
to  three  years— him  I  He  will  die  in 
the  prison  with  those  wretches  ;  he 
will  have  no  music,  nothing.  It  is  hor- 
rible I  You  have  killed  him,  killed  that 
boy  t  ■' 

"Do  you  love  him  so  much?" 

The  girl  flushed  in  the  starlight. 

"  What  is  that  to  you  ?  I  pity 

A  flash  of  renewed  hope  sprang  from 
his  heart  to  his  eyes.  Pity  need  not  be 
love.  Poramomenthissightgrewdim, 
and  the  next  he  was  at  her  feet,  clutch- 
ing her  dress. 

"  Katy,"  he  cried.  "  It  is  done — it 
was  his  own  fault.  Forget  him.  He 
cannot  have  learned  to  love  you  as  I 
have  loved  you  for  years.  Listen, 
listen  !     Don't  go  away  I " 

The  girl  was  in  vain  struggling  to 
release  her  dress,  frightened  now. 

"  I  am  all  the  men  say  I  am,  per- 
haps," he  cried,  "  surly  and  all  that  ; 
but — listen — you  are  the  cause.  For 
love  of  you,  and  thinking  of  you,  I 
keep  alone.  From  the  horror  of  los- 
ing you  I  am  sometimes  half  mad. 
Listen  to  me,  now,  and  tell  me.  Will 
ever  any  man  love  you  as  I  love  P 
Will  any  one  do  for  you  what  I  would 
do  ?  " 

"  Leave  me,  leave  me,"  she  cried, 
but  he  clung  to  her. 

"  I  cannot  charm  you  and  bewitch 
you  with  a  pretty  face  and  music,  like 
Faval,"  he  went  on,  unheeding  her. 
"  But  I  am  a  man,  and  a  true  man  ! 
I  claim  that  !  Try  me  ;  tell  me 
what  to  do  to  prove  how  much  I 
love  you  1  Whatever  it  is  I  shall  do 

The  girl's  thoughts  all  the  evening 
had  dwelt  on  one  thing  alone — her 
bewildered,  anxious,  wild  thoughts. 
They  were  yet  in  her  mind,  and  now 
they  formed  themselves,  as  at  a  word 




of  command,  into  a  resolve.  She  whis- 
pered to  the  man  at  her  feet : 
"  Do  you  love  me  so  much  ?  " 
"  I  cannot  tell  how  much," 
"And  you  would  do  all  you  say — for 
me,  for  love  of  me  !  " 

"  Anything  !  "  he  cried,  rising  in 
a  passion    of    hope,   and    seizing  her 

"  Save  him!  "  she  cried. 

"Where's  Katy?"  Herman  de- 
manded, as  he  unceremoniously  ran 
into  Mother  Malone's  house. 

"Dont  be  askin'  me,"  cried  Mrs. 
Malone  querulously.  "  What  are  you 
wantin'  wid  Katy  at  this  time  of 
night  ?     It'll  be  taps  in  a  minute." 

"  Cause  1  was  down  at  the  guard- 
house to  see  Faval  to-night,  and  he's 
worryin'»  awful.  He's  to  be  taken  to 
Leavenworth  in  a  day  or  two.  So  I 
thought  I'd  just  ask  Katy— he  was 
stuck  on  Katy  just  like  me — to  go 
and  cheer  him  up  a  bit.  I'm  not 

' '  Ye  wee  divil, "  howled  Mother  Ma- 
lone, welcoming  a  chance  to  discharge 
her  wrath  upon  somebody ;  "  an  it's 
mischief  makin'  ye're  after,  is  it?  Git 
out  uv  this !  Git  out  now,  afore  I  do  yez 
harm  I " 

"  What's  eating  you  ?  1  wantsome 
apples  ! " 

The  angry  woman  charged  upon  him. 
Herman  grabbed  an  apple,  upset  the 
barret,  and  fled  screeching. 

"  Did  yez  ever  hear  the  like  ?  "  Mrs. 
Malone  muttered.  "  Katy  to  go  and 
see  Faval.     Was  iver  the  like  ?  " 

She  did  not  know. 

The  guardhouse  lay  at  the  back  of 
the  post,  on  the  bluff  overlooking  the 
meadows.  The  inner  room  was  veryfull 
as  a  result  of  pay  day.  The  sloping 
wooden  platform  on  which  the  pris- 
oners, wrapt  in  their  blankets,  slept, 
was  lined  with  recumbent  figures. 
Some  of  the  long-sentence-men,  how- 
ever, for  greater  comfort,  had  made 
hammocks  of  their  blankets  and  slung 
them  by  cords  from  hooks  in  the 
walls.  The  barred  windows  were  few, 
and  by  one  of  these,  in  a  corner,  Faval 

had  slung  his  hammock  beneath  an- 
other man,  who  swung  near  the  roof. 
Thus  the  window,  open  for  the  heat, 
was  almost  shut  off  from  sight  of  the 
rest  of  the  occupants  and  the  wicket 
which  separated  the  guard  from  the 
prisoners.  An  Indian  scout  had  been 
brought  in  from  the  camp,  a  wild  and 
savage  sight.  He  lay  outstretched  on 
his  back  on  the  floor,  howling  lugu- 
briously, and  beating  on  the  boards 
with  extended  flsts.  In  his  drunken 
muddle-headedness  he  had  an  idea  that 
the  white  men  were  about  to  hang  him 
and  his  howls  sank  to  a  long,  horrible, 
waiting  death  song. 

Amid  the  noise  and  the  heat  and  the 
stench  of  the  overcrowded  room  Faval 
was  wide  awake.  For  half  an  hour 
after  taps  so  he  remained,  until  the 
lamp  at  the  door  was  removed.  Soon 
the  post  recovered  from  its  periodi- 
cal outburst  of  pay-day  riot,  resumed 
its  regular  nightly  air  of  repose,  and  the 
lonely  sentries  began  their  monotonous 
calls.  Faval's  window  opened  on  the 
back  of  the  guardhouse,  and  he  could 
not  see  the  sentry  on  number  one.  But 
very  distinctly  there  came  to  his  ears 
the  methodical  beat  of  the  soldier's 
shoes  on  the  porch,  and  at  last  his 
first  proclamation  to  his  brother  sen- 
tries of  the  hour. 

"Ten  o'clock,"  Faval  murmured. 
"  Two  hours  yet — it  is  a  year  !  " 

As  the  distant  call  came  faintly  from 
the  far-away  distant  posts,  and  number 
one  repeated  "All's  well  !  "  the  young 
musician  stealthily  reached  from  his 
hammock  and  grasped  one  of  the  win- 
dow bars.  It  shook  beneath  the  pres- 
sure of  his  slender  fingers.  "  Easily  !" 
he  muttered,  and  then  he  huddled  io  his 
hammock  as  he  heard  the  sentry  chal- 
lenge and  quickly  shout  to  the  ser- 
geant inside  : 

"  Officer  of  the  day  1  Turn  out  the 
guard  I  " 

Had  they  suspected  ?  Had  they 
discovered  ? 

"  Never  mind  the  guard  !  " 

The  trembling  lad  heard  the  officer 
step  on  the  porch  and  the  sergeant 
make  his  report.  .Faval  perspired  with 
fear.     What  was  it  ?    Were  they  talk- 

□  igitizedbyGoOglC 



ing  about  him  ?  Would  the  sergeant, 
would  Holmes,  betray  him  and  have 
him  put  in  irons?  It  was  likely.  He 
had  done  as  Katy  had  told  him  to  do, 
but  he  could  not  understand  when  she 
said  that  Holmes  was  his  friend.  The 
ofHcer  went  away,  and,  trembling, 
Faval  crept  from  his  hammock  and 
slipped  on  shoes  and  clothes  and 
stayed  at  the  bars,  peering  out  anxi- 

"  He  won't  be  back  until  early 
morning,"  the  corporal  of  the  guard 
remarked  with  a  yawn.  "  Daddy 
Dodds  is  getting  old  and  likes  his 
snooze,  even  when  he's  officer  of  the 
day.  Whereare  you  off  to.  Holmes?" 
The  sergeant  inside  replied  gruffly, 
as  was  his  wont : 

"There  were  so  many  prisoners  com- 
ing in,  I  had  no  time  to  get  my  blank- 
ets. Take  the  keys  till  I  come  back." 
He  went  out,  but  he  did  not  go  to 
the  barracks  for  his  blankets.  It  was 
dark  and  moonless  now,  and  at  the  foot 
of  the  bluff  he  met  the  girl.  She  was 
very  pale,  but  in  her  there  was  no  sign 
of  fear.  Her  eyes  glittered  with  de- 
termination. He  tried  to  take  her 
hand,  but  she  withdrew  it  and  whis- 
pered : 

"  Not  yet — not  until  It  is  done.  Is 
he  ready  ?  " 

"He  ought  to  be  ready.  1  have 
done  all  1  can,"  he  answered,  a  little 
sullenly.  "  At  midnight  I  shall  engage 
Number  One's  attention." 

"  I  must   see  him,"   she  said.      "  I 
must  say  goodbye.     I  know  the  win- 
He  flashed  up  at  that  with  suspicious 

"  What  do  you  want  to  see  him  for?  " 
he  whispered  sullenly.  "  Vou  told  me 
to  save  him,  and  I  have,  but —  you  are 
mine  now.  I  don't  want  you  to  see 

She  laughed,  and  put  her  hand  in 

"  I  know.  Holmes, "she  said.  "You 
are  true  and — and  1  love  you  better 
than  I  ever  did,  but — " 

He  interrupted  her  by  passionately 
kissing  her  hand,  and  stooping  he  could 
not  note  her  frown. 

" — but  that  poor  boy  I  He  loved 
me,  too,  and^Iet  me  say  goodbye  !" 

He  let  her  go,  and  she  slipped   up 
the  bluff,  and  so  to  the  barred  window. 
At  once  Faval's  hand  caught   hers. 
"  The  bar  ?  "  she  whispered. 
"  It's  loose." 

"The  horses  are  at  the  cottonwood 
clump  on  the  river.  Noel,  Noel,  be 
careful  1 " 

"  My  darling,  I  shall  be  there — or 

She  was  back  with  Holmes  immedi- 
ately, and,  though  her  eyes  sparkled, 
she  wiped  them  with  her  handkerchief. 
"  Poor  fellow,"  she  said,  and  paused, 
and  then  went  on,  "  and  so  \\k  is  gone 
forever.  Thank  you  sergeant,  I — I  do 
like  you  now." 

Holmes  took  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissed  her. 

"  God  bless  you,  Katy,"  he  said, 
filled  with  love,  "and  may  he  forget 
me  if  I  do  not  make  you  happy  all  my 

He  left  her,  dazed  at  that  caress,  and 
went  back  to  his  duty,  and  the  girl 
looked  after  him  with  a  smile  and  a  sigh. 
The  night  passed  on,  punctuated  by 
the  yawning  sentries*  calls.  The  men 
marvelled  at  the  sergeant's  unaccus- 
tomed cheerfulness.  He  chatted  with 
them,  and  laughed.  They  remembered 
afterwards  that  for  once  they  had  heard 
Holmes  laugh.  He  did  not  lie  down. 
At  twelve  the  sentry  called  the  hour, 
and  Holmes  shortly  after  wards  left  him, 
saying  he  would  patrol  around  the 
guardhouse.  At  Faval's  window  be 
stopped.  No  noise  came  from  within, 
save  that  of  the  prisoners'  snores.  He 
peered  inside  and  made  out  that  Faval's 
hammock  was  empty.  One  bar  hung 
loose  from  its  fastenings  at  the  top. 
The  sergeant  put  it  in  place  softly, 

"  He  is  gone  1  "  he  thought.  "  Out 
of  the  way — out  of  the  way — out  of  the 
way,  and  she  is  promised  to  me  ! " 

The  relief  went  out  at  one  o'clock,  and 
soon  the  tired  sentries  relieved  came 
tramping  in  with  the  corporal.  Holmes 
was  lying  on  his  bunk  in  the  offlce,  but 
not  asleep.  Sleep  was  far  from  his  glad 
eyes.  He  heard  the  sentries  gossip  as 
they  prepared  to  lay  down. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



"  Any  or  the  officers  giving  a  party 
to-night  ?  " 

"Don't  kaow — why?" 

' '  'Cause  a  man  and  a  woman  gallop- 
ed past  on  the  river  trail.  I  could  just 
see  them  from  Number  Six.  They  were 
going  B~bar  ranch  way,  and  I  thought 
they'd  maybe  been  visiting  in  officers' 
row. " 

Holmes  raised  his  head — a  man  ? 
That  was  all  right  A,  woman  ?  Who 
could  they  be  P  He  sat  on  they  edge  of 
his  cot.  A  terrible  thought  filled  his 
mind.  It  could  not  be — yet,  yet — dared 
she  play  that  trick  ?  For  a  minute  he 
sat  still,  and  then,  without  a  word  of 
excuse,  he  left  the  guardhouse.  He 
went  straight  to  Mother  Malone's.  The 
angry  woman  was  still  sitting  there, 
awaiting  her  husband  and  daughter. 

"  Where  is  Katy?"  the  sergeant 
asked,  and  his  face  was  so  white  that 
the  scars  stood  out  upon  his  brow  and 
cheeks  in  scarlet. 

"Where,  indeed?"  cried  Mrs. 
Malone.  "The  baggage  !  She's  not 
been  in  to-night !  She'll  leave  my 
house  !  Holmes !  Holmes !  What 
is  it  ?     What  has  she  done  now  ?  " 

With  a  loud  curse  the  sergeant 
turned  on  his  heel  and  rushed  off.  He 
made  straight  for  the  stables  of  his 
troop  and  roused  the  stable  sergeant  by 
blows  on  the  gate. 

"  My  horse,   by  order  of  the  officer 
of  the  day  !  "  he  hoarsely  yelled.      "A 
prisoner  has  escaped  !  " 

If  he  had  been  capable  of  thought, 
capable  of  planning  a  sure  revenge,  he 
would  first  have  roused  the  guard,  and 
sent  hair  a  troop  after  the  fugitives. 
Perhaps,  indeed,  he  did  not  think,  but 
felt  that  this  was  a  matter  which  con- 
cerned him  alone.  Therefore  he  went 
swiftly  at  a  gallop  in  pursuit,  and  the 
sleepy  stable  sergeant  went  back  to 
bed,  and  the  guard  remained  on  watch, 
wondering  where  their  sergeant  had 
gone  to,  but  unaware  of  the  pris- 
oner's escape. 

The  river  road?  He  spurred  his 
horse  down  the  trail  furiously  until  the 
post  was  far  behind  him.    On  his  right 

the  river  flowed ;  on  his  left  the  land 
rose  in  rippling  bluffs,  a  gray-black 
mass  in  the  starlight.  For  many  miles 
in  front  of  him  he  knew  the  long  and 
lonely  trail  stretched  drearily,  without 
house,  without  town,  for  nigh  loo  miles, 
when  at  last  it  ended  at  the  railway. 
He  was  able  with  an  effort,  to  consider 
that  the  two  would  spare  their  horses, 
knowing  how  far  they  had  to  go,  and 
hardly  expecting  pursuit  before  guard 
mount  in  the  morning,  when  the  officer 
of  the  day  would  make  his  report. 
They  had  more  than  an  hour's  start, 
but  if  he  pressed  hard  after  them  he 
should  catch  up  soon.  That  settled,  he 
urged  his  horse  to  the  utmost,  and 
gave  himself  up  to  the  mad  rage  of 
jealousy  and  disappointment.  He  had 
known  her  from  a  child  to  be  wilful  and 
passionate  and  mischievous,  but  he 
had  never,  in  his  adoration,  believed 
her  capable  of  such  deceit.  He  did  not 
stop  to  think  that  love  had  forced  him- 
self to  break  his  oath,  to  neglect  his 
duty,  to  assist  a  prisoner  under  his 
charge  to  escape,  to  forfeit,  if  the  truth 
became  known,  the  trust  of  his  officers 
and  the  name  he  had  won  in  years  of 
hard  campaigning.  He  did  not  stop 
to  think  of  what  love  might  have  forced 
her  also  to  do.  His  mood  was  entirely 
selfish.  He  was  wounded  sorely,  and 
he  wished  for  nothing  but  revenge. 

The  dust  scattered  in  clouds  about 
him  ;  the  horse,  in  that  hot  night,  soon 
was  steaming  wet.  He  never  slack- 
ened pace.  Now  and  again  there  was 
a  creek  to  cross,  and  through  them  he 
dashed,  heedless  of  mud-hole  or  rock 
or  stump.  Once  a  belated  Indian 
freighter  met  him  and  grunted  an  as- 
tonished "  How  !  "  Holmes  hardly 
saw  him,  nor  answered  his  greeting. 
In  an  instant  he  was  out  of  sight  and 
hearing.  So  he  rode,  blind  to  all  he 
passed,  his  eyes  glaring  ahead,  his 
teeth  grating,  seeking  revenge  for  the 
slight  and  the  scorn  and  the  lie. 

They  bad  travelled  more  quickly  than 
he  had  reckoned  they  would,  and  the 
sky  of  the  midsummer  morning  was 
turning  slowly  from  gray  to  violet 
when  he  saw  them,  and  drew  the  re- 
volver he  carried  as  being  on  guard 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



duty.  He  hsdied  them,  and  throug'h 
the  misty  dimDess  of  the  dawn  they 
saw  him  and  spurred  ahead  with  a  cry 
of  fear  and  surprise.  His  horse,  the 
fleetest  in  the  troop,  drew  up  upon 
them ;  but,  urged  by  terror,  they  pushed 
OD  to  the  utmost.  The  sergeant  was 
within  aoo  yards  of  them  when  he  lev- 
eled his  revolver  and  fired.  They  were 
too  far  off  for  pistol  shooting,  but  the 
shot  resulted  in  bringing  them  to  a 
standstill.  He  rode  slowly  up  and 
reined  in,  facing  them.  The  girl  sat 
erect  in  her  saddle,  her  bosom  heaving, 
her  eyes  defying  him.  The  musician 
looked  at  him  with-  his  big,  brown, 
sorrowful  eyes— despairing.  Holmes 
looked  only  on  the  girl,  and  even  as  he 
did  so  that  which  had  caused  all  his 
misery  in  the  last  few  years,  his  great 
love  for  her,  came  back,  sweeping  in 
on  him  as  a  flood,  washing:  away  his 
wrath  and  disappointment  and  longing 
for  revenge.  It  was  Katy  Malone  who 
faced  him,  his  pet  in  her  school-days, 
the  one  thing  he  had  ever  loved.  As 
he  looked  on  her,  flushed  with  exercise 
and  indignation,  he  put  his  pistol  back 
in  the  holster  and  the  reins  fell  on  his 
horse's  neck.  He  cared  nothing  for 
the  other's  presence,  but  held  out  his 
arms  in  overwhelming  despair,  cry- 
ing : 

"Katy!  Katy!  Why  have  you  done 

The  girl  paused  a  momentJn  surprise, 
for  she  had  surely  expected  an  outburst 
of  colossal  rage,  but  in  a  moment  she 
regained  her  usual  self-possession. 
She  took  the  musician's  hand  in  hers, 
in  the  protecting  way  she  had  used 
when  she  had  met  him  in  the  island 

"  Because  1  love  him,"  she  said, 

The  sergeant's  head  drooped  low 
over  his  horse,  and  his  tall  frame 
shook.  When  he  looked  up,  his  face 
was  gray  as  the  morning  sky.      All 

light  was  gone  from  his  eyes,  even  as 
the  stars  were  disappearing  in  the 
heavens.      He  was  calm  now. 

"Vou  could  not  trust  me  to  make 
you  happy,"  he  said,  slowly.  "I  be- 
gin to  understand.  1  want  to  know 
one  thing.  Did  you  care  for  me  at  all 
before— he— came  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Never,"  she  said. 

He  sat  again  erect,  and  looked  up  at 
the  sky.  In  one  instant  his  life  stood 
revealed.  "  Lonely,  lonely,  lonely." 
Through  all  the  years,  from  the  first 
early  questionings  of  himself,  of  who 
his  mother  was  and  who  his  father, 
through  all  the  years  of  ill-used,  soul- 
souring  childhood,  through  all  the 
years  of  unfriended,  starving  youth, 
through  all  the  years  of  manhood,  soli- 
tary and  avoided  by  his  comrades,  he 
saw  himself,  babe,  child,  boy,  man, 
unfriended  and  alone.  Lonely,  lonely, 
lonely  !     Friendless  and  unloved. 

He  looked  at  the  young  lovers,  hand- 
in-hand.  What  good  would  it  do  to 
arrest  him  ?  She  would  only  hate  him 
the  more.  What  good  would  it  do  to 
force  her  back  ?  Besides,  the  escape 
must  be  known  soon,  and  he,  in  turn, 
would  he  a  prisoner.  The  sky  was 
changing  into  blue ;  the  sun  was  almost 
on  the  horizon,  but  round  his  soul  the 
night  grew  very  dark.  For  a  while 
they  watched  him,  wondering,  and  at 
last  he  looked  at  them,  and  his  eyes 
were  full  of  tears. 

"  Ride  on,"  he  said. 

They  did  not  move,  hardly  believing, 
until  he  waved  his  hands  impatiently. 

"Go,"  he  said,  "and — and  God 
make  you  both  happy  1 " 

Without  a  parting  word,  they  wheel- 
ed and  fled. 

He  watched  them  disappear  and,  a 
moment  after,  the  crack  of  a  pistol 
rang  out  across  the  plain,  and  the 
sergeant's  riderless  horse,  frightened, 
galloped  back  to  the  post. 


Digitized  b,  Google 





By  Robert  Barr.  ' 

DICK  Turpin  slouched  into  Kettle's 
restaurant  on  the  Strand,  Rnag  his 
huge  felt  hat  on  a  marble  table,  sat 
down,  and  sang  out  for  a  beefsteak 
rare  and  a  gallon  ot  ale,  and  that  right 
speedily,  he  added.  The  waiter  made 
all  haste  to  serve  him,  for  such  is  the 
effect  of  a  life  of  kindness  and  doing 
good  to  others  that  Dick  was  always 
promptly  obeyed,  whoever  else  had  to 
suffer  delay,  and  when  his  mind  and 
gentle  eye  casually  surveyed  the  prim- 
ing on  his  pistols,  even  landlords  them- 
selves had  been  known  to  jump  in  their 
eagerness  to  be  of  use  to  him. 

Just  as  Dick  had  finished  his  frugal 
meal,  Aristophenus  Kettie  himself  tip- 
toed into  the  restaurant  and  whispered  : 

"  Dick,  my  boy,  the  bobbies  are  de- 
ploying round  the  Strand  entrance." 
'  Richard,  always  a  man  of  quick  de- 
cision, arose  at  once,  bowed  to  the 
company,  and  remarked  with  that 
suavity  which  was  characteristic  of 
him  : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  beg  to  excuse  me.  I 
have  an  engagement  elsewhere." 

Mr.  Turpin  then  slipped  out  by  the 
back  exit,  where  an  hostler,  true  and 
trusty,  awaited  him,  holding  the  high- 
wayman's favourite  mount,  "  White 
Wings,"  The  night  was  pitch  dark,  but 
the  lamp  of  the  machine  threw  forward 
an  ever  enlarging  cone  of  light,  like 
one  of  those  advertising  devices  then 
so  popular  in  London. 

"Is  there  plenty  of  oil  in  the  lamp?" 

"The  repair  kit  and  all  the  tools  are 
in  the  toolbag  ?  " 

"  Yezzer." 

"The  machine  is  well  oiled  and  the 
tires  pumped  tight  ?  " 

"  Copyright  by  Robert  Barr. 

'*  Yezzer." 

"Well,  I  hope,  for  your  sake,  that 
everything  is  right,  for  if  it  is  not,  I 
shall  puncture  you  with  my  pistol  and 
deflate  you  of  life." 

Richard  flung  the  man  a  sovereign, 
because,  being  a  loyal  man,  he  never 
dealt  in  any  coin  under  the  rank  that 
designated  the  ruler  of  the  realm.  He 
mounted  the  wheel,  which  was  geared 
to  162,  and  swiftly  disappeared  into  the 
night.  At  the  first  street  corner  a  po- 
liceman was  waiting  for  him. 

"Turn  it  up,"  shouted  the  officer, 
endeavouring  to  perform  forthe  intrepid 
cyclist  the  action  so  tersely  expressed 
by  the  slang  phrase  he  had  just  given 
utterance  to  ;  but  Dick,  who  had  been 
there  before,  deftly  avoided  him,  and 

"  If  you  are  referring  to  the  light,  I 
have  pleasure  in  informing  you  that  it 
already  complies  with  all  the  regula- 

The  word  had  gone  forth  that,  at  all 
hazards,  Dick  Turpin  was  to  be  ar- 
rested that  night,  so  th^  policeman, 
baffled  in  attempting  to  stop  him, 
shrilly  blew  his  whistle,  which  had  the 
immediate  effect  of  causing  all  the 
hansom  cabs  within  hearing  to  concen- 
trate rapidly  on  the  spot,  and  by  the 
time  the  harassed  ofHcer  had  disen- 
tangled the  traffic,  Dick  was  well  on  his 
way  to  the  Great  North  road. 

But  the  shrill  Whistle  had  effect  on 
others  than  the  cabbies.  It  was  the 
signal  to  the  metropolitan  brigade  of 
mounted  police  (cycle  corps)  and  twelve 
of  the  record  breakers  were  bending 
over  handlebars  in  hot  pursuit  of  the 
fugitive.  This  superb  body  of  men  w'ere 

Digitized  by'GoOgIC 



astride  the  celebrated  Klondike  bikes 
(*'  worth  their  weight  in  gold,"  see  ad- 
vertisement) and  the  betting  was  about 
even,  although  those  in  the  know, 
freely  offered  two  to  one  on  Dick, 

The  police  rode  Clincher  tires  of 
course,  for  clincher  was  their  business, 
while  Dick  preferred  a  Palmer,  for  he 
had  ever  made  his  living  by  the  drop- 
ping of  gold  into  his  palm,  although  he 
preferred  a  single  tube  pistol  when 
talcing  up  a  collection. 

"I  shall  break  the  record  or  my 
neck,"  muttered  Dick,  as  he  s[)ed 
through  the  darkness.  As  he  glanced 
over  his  shoulder  at  the  foot  of  a  hill 
he  saw  a  dozen  twinkling  lights  com- 
ing over  the  brow  behind  him,  like  a 
constellation.  "I  hope  every  one  I 
meet  will  have  a  bright  lamp  and  keep 
to  his  own  side  of  the  road,"  and  for 
the  first  time  in  his  bold  life  a  tremour 
of  fear  thrilled  the  stalwart  frame  of 
the  highwayman,  who  well  knew  the 
predilection  of  the  touring  cyclist  for 
racing  down  a  part  of  the  thoroughfare 
that  should  be  kept  sacred  for  those 
going  in  a  contrary  direction. 

Over  the  top  of  the  next  hill  only 
eleven  lights  glimmered,  falling  stead- 
ily to  the  rear  ;  then  but  ten  were  visi- 
ble, then  nine,  then  eight. 

"  1  knew  those  cops  couldn't  stand 
that  pace,"  muttered  Turpin  ;  "itre- 
fitinds  one  of  the  rhyme  of  the  '  Nine 
liltle,  eight  little,  seven  little  Injuns,'" 
and  he  began  to  trill  merrily  the  re- 
frain, experiencing  that  exalted  exhil- 
aration which  a  true  cyclist  feels  when 
he  is  astride  a  perfect  silent  wheel 
spinning  through  the  pure  air  of  a 
peaceful  country.  Since  midnight  only 
one  light  followed  him,  but  that  hung 
on  with  great  persistence.  Dick  for  a 
moment  thought  of  putting  out  his  own 
lamp,  waiting  for  his  lone  pursuer  and 
pistoling  him  as  he  went  by,  but  he  re- 
flected that,  after  all,  this  was  a  mean 
trick  to  play  on  a  brother  cyclist,  for 
Dick  was  not  without  that  feeling  of 
fraternity  which  all  genuine  wheelmen 
possess.  So,  wishing  to  do  as  he 
would  be  done  by,  the  merciful  man 
dismounted,  snipped  asunder  a  strand 
of  barbed  wire  that  lined  one  side  ot 

the  road,  pulled  out  staples  until  a 
sufficient  length  of  the  wire  was  set 
free,  drew  it  taut  across  the  thorough- 
fare and  tied  the  loose  end  of  the  wire 
to  a  stake  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 

'  Remounting,  he  journeyed  on  to- 
ward the  north,  animated  with  that 
comforting  sense  of  satisfaction  which 
comes  to  one  who,  at  some  trouble  to 
himself,  has  placed  innocent  diversion 
in  the  monotonous  pathway  of  a  fellow- 
traveller.  We  should  not  live  for  our- 
selves alone. 

Just  as  a  neighbouring  steeple  struck 
the  hour  of  one,  Dick,  glancing  back- 
ward, saw  the  one  light  suddenly  dis- 

"  How  appropriate  that  was  !  " 
mused  Dick.  "  The  hour  and  the 
man  I  Thank  goodness,  the  telegraph 
has  not  yet  been  invented.  The  road 
to  York  is  now  clear,  and  I  have  noth- 
ing to  attend  to  but  the  making  of  a 
record  which  will  never  be  forgotten. 
Another  good  man  gone  I  "  he  added, 
as  he  saw  that  the  lamp  behind  him 
was  not  reliL 

Daylight  found  him  going  strong, 
far  to  the  north  ;  he  first,  the  rest  no- 
where. He  stopped  at  a  wayside  inn 
for  breakfast,  knowing  it  was  a  good 
hostelry,  for  the  iron  efiigy  of  the  three- 
winged  wheel  of  the  Cyclists'  touring 
club  was  over  the  door. 

"  Are  you  a  member  of  the  C.T.C.  ?  " 
asked  the  landlord. 

"1  am  a  member  of  no  organiza- 
tion," replied  the  truthful  Richard,  "for 
I  have  just  been  resigning  all  night 
from  the  C.A.T.C.H." 

After  a  good  breakfast  he  proceeded 
merrily  on  his  way,  meeting  many 
travellers,  who  gave  him  a  cheerful 
"good  morning."  With  none  of  them 
did  he  stop  to  converse,  for  the  high- 
way was  too  thronged  to  make  a  pro- 
longed interview  of  financial  advan- 
tage to  him. 

But  at  last  he  came  to  a  lonely  heath 
which  the  highroad  bisected  in  a 
straight  line,  and  about  the  centre  of 
it,  with  no  one  else  in  sight  for  miles, 
he  saw  approaching  him  a  young  lady 
on  a  dainty  wheel. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

1 63 


Richard  sprang  off  and  planted  him- 
self and  his  machine  squarely  across 
the  thoroughfare. 

The  lady,  thinking  he  wished  to 
speak  vith  her,  which,  indeed,  was  the 
case,  slipped  from  her  perch  to  the 
ground  in  that  charmingly  casual  way 
in  which  some  women  dismount,  seem- 
ing to  suggest  that  she  merely  hap- 
pens off. 

' '  You  wish  to  inquire  the  way,  air  ?  " 
she  a^ked  in  tones  of  exquisite  sweet- 

' '  O,  no,  dear  madame,"  replied  Dick 
with  one  of  his  most  correct  bows, 
learned  from  his  constant  association 
with  the  aristocracy,  whom  he  met  in- 
cidentally on  their  travels,  "  1  am,  if  I 
may  be  permitted  to  term  myself  so, 
an  inspector  of  highways,  and  all  roads 
lead — not  to  Rome  in  my  case — but  to 
profitable  commerce.  I  must  first  apol- 
ogize to  you  for  not  appearing  in  pro- 
per costume,  a  defect  which  I  shall  at 
once  proceed  to  remedy,"  saying  which 
he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  neatly  fit- 
ting black  silk  mask,  penetrated  by 
two  holes  for  the  eyes,  which  he  put 
over  the  upper  part  of  his  face,  passing 
the  strings  to  the  back  of  his  head  and 
holding  them  there. 

"Would  you  mind  jnst  tying  these 
strings  p  a  lady  makes  such  a  neat 
knot,  and  they  are  rather  awkward  for 
me  to  get  at  without  a  mirror." 

"With  pleasure,"  replied  the  prl, 
standing  on  tiptoe  as  she  tied  a  dainty 
knot  with  deft  fingers.  "  I  should 
think  it  much  handier  to  have  the  ends 
of  the  mask  connected  with  a  bit  of 
elastic  that  you  could  slip  over  your 

*'I  have  often  thought  of  it,"  assent- 
ed the  young  man,  "  but  I  am  rather  a 
stickler  for  old-fashioned  ways,  and  so 
1  stick  to  the  strings.  I  fear  I  am  in- 
clined to  be  conservative  ;  I  mix  so 
much  with  the  nobility,  you  know."  , 

"Am  I  wrong  in  surmising  that  you 
are  a  highwayman?  Perhaps  the  fa- 
mous Mr.  Turpin  himself?" 

"Quite  right, madame;  Dick  Turpin, 
entirely  at  your  service,  at  this  moment 
accomplishing  his  celebrated  ride  to 
York,   of  which  you  have  doubtless 

read,  who  hopes  by  strict  attention  to 
business  to  merit  a  continuance  of  that 
custom  which  it  will  always  be  his  en- 
deavour to  deserve.  I'm  sorry  I  haven't 
a  card  with  me,  but  I  left  town  unex- 
pectedly, and,  not  to  put  too  fine  a 
point  upon  it,  rather  in  a  hurry." 

"How  delightful!" 

Dick  drew  forth  a  huge  pistol,  and 
with  another  low  bow,  said; 

"But  I  am  detaining  you,  madame. 
In  the  pleasures  of  social  conversation 
let  us  not  forget  the  realities  of  life.  1 
must  trouble  you  for  your  ^vatch  and 
any  rings  or  other  little  trinkets  that  1 
can  keep  as  a  memento  of  this  most 
charming  meeting." 

"I  am  so  sorry,"  answered  the  girl, 
"but  when  I  left  home  this  morning  I 
neglected  to  bring  with  me  either  watch 
or  rings.  One  is  so  apt  to  break  a 
watch  if  one  has  a  fall,  and  rings  are 
liable  to  be  lost." 

"They  are  indeed,  madame,  when  I 
am  on  the  road.  Perhaps  you  have  a 
purse?  1  shall  be  happy  to  relieve  you 
of  the  care  which  it  causes  you." 

After  a  good  deal  of  searching  about 
the  folds  of  her  dress,  the  young 
woman  at  last  found  her  pocket  and 
drew  from  it  a  purse  which  she  handed 
to  Dick,  saying  with  a  sigh: 

"It  contains  £xu" 

' '  I  accept  it  with  as  much  gratitude, 
believe  me,  madame,  as  if  it  contained  a 
thousand.  The  bicycle  you  ride  I  will 
leave  with  you,  as  I  would  not  be  found 
in  the  possession  of  such  a  machine  at 
any  price." 

"Sir!"  she  cried,  and  for  the  first 
time  during  their  colloquy  there  was  a 
trace  of  indignation  in  her  voice,  "I 
would  have  you  know  that  this  is  a 
'Sweet  Violet'  machine,  the  very  best 
in  the  market;  the  agent  who  sold  it 
to  me  himself  assured  me  of  that." 

"You  should  pay  no  attention  to  the 
ridiculous  statements  of  interested  par- 
ties. There  is  only  one  machine  made 
in  England,  and  that  is  the  renowned 
'White  Wings,'  made  t^  a  Coventry 
company  (limited)  of  that  name,  form- 
ed last  season,  highly  over-capitalized, 
by  my  respected  fellow-worker,  How- 
ley.     Alas,  that  I  look  to  the  road  in- 

□  igitizedbyGoOglC 


stead  of  g'oiogr  into  the  company  pro- 
moting business!  Where  I  take  a 
pound,  he  loots  thousands;  still  I  have 
the  proud  consciousness  of  beinf^  in 
the  more  honest  line  of  trade.  After 
all,  a  clear  conscience  is  worth  some- 

"Is  that  a  'White  Wings'  you  are 

"It  is,  madame,  and  to  its  perfec- 
tion I  owe  the  pleasure  of  this  privilege 
ed  interview,  l-ast  night  I  outrode 
twelve  Klondikes." 

"I  should  have  thought  you  would 
have  gone  in  for  a  chainless  safety," 
murmured  the  girl  dreamily. 

"What  I"  roared  Dick,  forgetting 
for  the  time  that  he  stood  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  lady,  and  for  a  moment  los- 
ing his  temper,  "  I  thought  you  were 
a  young  person  of  some  sense,  even  if 
jou  did  ride  a  '  Sweet  Violet,'  but  such 
an  inconsiderate  remark  shows — " 

"  1  am  afirfud,  sir,  you  do  not  quite 
comprehend  me.  If  you  are  caught 
you  will  be  hung  in  chains,  there- 
fore I  should  suppose  that  you  would 
prefer  the  luxury  of  a  chaiuless  life 
to  the  ignominy  of  a  death  in  chains." 

"  Oh,  ha  ha  I "  laughed  Dick.  "  I 
didn't  see  that.  Very  good,  indeed. 
I  must  remember  that  joke  and  tell  it 
to  the  boys  in  the  club." 

"It  is  a  perfectly  lovely  machine 
that  '  White  Wings '  of  yours,"  the 
lady  continued,  regardingDick's  mount 
witli  entrancing  eyes,  while  he  stood 
aside  from  it  and  held  it  at  arms'- 
leagth  that  she  might  the  better  ad- 
mire its  proportions.  "  I  would  get 
one  for  myself  if  they  weren't  so  dear. " 

"  O,  the  first  cost  of  an  article  is 
jMthing  when  you  get  just  what  you 


want.  If  the  police  are  ever  after  you, 
you  will  not  regret  the  initial  expendi- 

"  I  would  have  you   know,"  replied 
the  young  lady,  drawing  herself   up    . 
proudly,   "  that   I    have  no  followers 
among  the  force." 

"I  wish  I  could  say  as  much,"  said 
Turpin  bitterly. 

"  What  did  you  pay  for  your  most 
excellent  wheel  ?  " 

"This  stood  me  in  at  ;^3i  ;  at  least 
that's  what  the  man  from  whom  I  took 
it  said  it  cost. " 

"  If  I  had  that  jQxi  you  are  taking 
care  of  for  me  1  would  go  at  once 
and  invest  it  in  a  '  White  ^\^ngs.' " 

"  Would  you  ?  "  cried  Dick  with  en- 
thusiasm, for  his  weakest  point  was 
always  his  gallantry,  and  his  next 
weakest  his  loyalty  to  his  own  make 
of  wheel.  "Then  allow  me  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  handing  back  your 

"Thank  you  kindly,"  said  the  girl 
sweetly,  as  she  put  her  purse  in  her 
pocket.  She  sprang  on  her  wheel, 
and  cried  over  her  shoulder,  "  I  think 
those  are  two  policeman  approaching 
down  the  road  ;  better  not  follow  me, 
but  do  some  scorching  toward  York." 

Dick  saw  that  he  had  already  lost 
too  much  time,  yet  he  stood  there  hesi- 
tating, wondering  if  after  all  he  had 
not  been  befooled  somehow.  It  was. 
always  thus  with  the  tender-hearted 
man.  His  honesty  was  forever  being' 
taken  advantage  of  by  the  unscrupu- 
lous of  the  opposite  sex.  He  mounted 
his  machine,  and  finished  his  journey 
to  York,  a  poorer  man  by  ;^3i  than, 
he  had  been  at  one  point  on  the 


Digitized  b,  Google 


By  C.  M.  Keys. 

THEY  were  a  strangely-assorted  yet 
a  well-met  pair.  She  was  a  woman 
at  tweaty-one,  but  all  the  freshness  of 
herg;irlish  days  yet  dwelt  upon  her  as 
if  the  goddess  Youth  were  loth  to  re- 
sign such  a  delightful  kingdom.  Her 
art  was  as  the  art  of  the  debutante  to 
look  at,  but  beneath  it  lay  the  subtlety 
and  power  of  a  woman's  soul.  Her 
beauty  was  that  indescribable  charm 
that  dwells  often  on  features  not  of 
strictly  classic  perfection.  Indeed, 
those  had  been  found  who  declared 
they  saw  no  beauty  in  her  save  her 
perfect  eyes — but  those  wondrous  eyes 
— such  eyes  as  man  sees  once,  and  finds 
other  orbs  but  pale 

Such  was  his  life,  but  who  could 
read  the  hidden  depths  of  that  inter- 
minable character? 

She  was  of  those  who  choose  their 
own  friendships.  When  he  came  and 
offered  her,  not  love  like  all  the 
rest,  but  only  friendship's  offering's 
she  chose  him  first  and  placed  him  by 
himself.  She  flung  him  favours  far  b«i- 
yond  the  rest  for  was  he  not  sincere 
and  honest,  while  they  tendered  for- 
tunes and  gave  but  farthings  ? 

For  many  months  it  lasted  and  people 
wondered,  and  strange  rumours  flew 
and  kind  friends  tried  in  vain  to  see 
through  it  all  aad  when  they  failed 
gave  gladly  their   little  quota    to  the 

vapid  light  of  insincerity — were  surely      tales    that  Rumour   sped.       Still    the 

dower  of  beauty  no  charm  of  feature 
could  surpass. 

Her  life  had  been  a  series  of  semi- 
platonic  friendships  with  men  who 
worshipped  her,  and  in  her  soul  the 
faculty  of  friendship  had  grown  so 
strong  that  no  room  seemed  left  for 

He  was  a  clever  and,  men  said,  a 
fast  and  reckless  youth,  but  in  the  eyes 
of  women  he  was  all  that  heart  could 
wish.  Brilliant  betimes  and  strangely 
thoughtful  in  his  conversation,  fascin- 
ating and  scrupulously  polite  in  his 
manner  and  address,  they  could  not 
rate  him  but  a  social  lion,  and  yet  his 
insincerity  and  callous  indifference  to 
result  could  not  but  debar 

thing  grew,  till  even  she  began  to  woO' 
der  what  it  meant  to  her — for  in  his 
eyes  the  light  changed  not,  and  even 
she  could  read  it  not 

One  night  it  chanced  that  he  was 
dining  with  a  friend  in  a  little  curtained 
recess  at  one  of  the  great  restaurants 
of  Boston.  Into  the  next  one  came 
two  fellow -clubmen  of  his  own,  and 
ordered  wine  and  cigars  and  settled 
down  to  have  a  quiet  chat.  Almost 
the  first  word  spoken  wus  his  own 
name,  and  Bert  Hardy  laid  his  hand 
upon  his  comrade's  shoulder,  and 
glanced  silence  at  him. 

1  wonder,"  began  Lawford, 

that  close  intimacy  and  confidence  tfiat     Hardy  is  at,  anyway.      He  still  comes 

even  cautious  matrons  extend  betimes 
to  him  who,  while  in  society,  is  not  in 
soul  ofit.  People  said  of  him,  "Charm- 
ing, but — don't  trust  him,  "and  straight- 
way in  his  hands  the  maidens  that  he 
met  would  lay  their  hearts  and  sigh, 
and  mothers  then,  seeing  the  harm 
could  not  be  easily  undone,  would 
smile  at  him  and  give  dances  for  their 
daughters — and  so  he  stayed  and  pros- 
pered in  his  careless  course. 

clubward  for  his  wine  and  cigars  ; 
still  is  '  U  beau  Bert '  at  the  theatres  ; 
he  still  goes  off  on  jaunts  betimes  to 
deuce  knows  where,  so  he  can't  be  in 
love  ;  so  what  the  deuce  is  it  P  I'm 
stumped  I " 

"  Well,  for  a  clubman,  you  are 
green  !  Hardy  in  love — what  a  joke  I 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  Billy  Loscombe  ? 
Well,  you  remember  how  he  fell  in  love 
I  suppose — ei  voilh  toui,"  and  Hardy 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



heard  the  puffing  of  a  cigar  just  lighted, 
then  there  was  silence  for  a  momeut 
and  Lawford  sighed  as  he  answered  : 

"  I  suppose  it  must  be  that — but 
Bella  Kirkland — who  would  ever  have 
thought  it?" 

"  It  is  that,  I  tell  you.  I  know  Bert 
Hardy  down  to  the  ground.  1  know 
he  has  ao  more  heart  or  conscience 
than  the  Kin^  of  the  Cannibal  Isles. 
I  know  he  broke  Kate  Simpson's  heart 
two  years  ago^as  fine  a  girl  as  ever 
turned  a  fellow's  head — and  left  her 
lightly,  without  a  qualm.  Well,  time 
will  tell  I " 

"  It  must  be  so — but  I  like  her,  old 
roan,  and  hate  to  stand  by  and  watch 
it,  and  so  do  you." 

"For  heaven's  sake,  Harry,  don't 
cross  Hardy's  path — for  I  like  you,  old 
man,"  replied  the  other  mimicking  his 
friend's  tone — and  then  the  subject 

Hardy  signed  to  his  friend  and  they 
left  noiselessly  and  when  they  got  out- 
side he  offered  his  hand  and  saifl  : 
*'  Good-bye,  Leffers,  for  good  !  It's  a 
damned  lie  !"  and  turned  and  walked 
away,  and  Leffers  stood  and  muttered 
— "  For  Heaven's  sake.  Hardy  !  "  and 
then  went  home  and  kept  quiet,  like  a 
wise  man. 

Bert  Hardy  walked  and  walked,  and 
smoked  and  smoked  for  many  an  hour 
that  night,  and  as  he  went  his  face 
grew  harder  and  yet  more  beautiful  till 
ID  the  end  he  clenched  his  hands  and 
swore  a  mighty  oath  that  he  would 
do  it,  though  what  the  "ifwaseven 
the  darkness  heard  not,  for  he  spoke 
no  other  word. 

The  next  night  Bella  Kirkland  was 
reclining  lazily  before  her  grate-fire,  in 
that  dreamy  state  of  rest  that  comes 
betimes  to  those  who  worship  at  the 
social  buffet — only  thinking,  and  lost 
in  the  sweetness  of  her  thoughts.  Her 
maid  came  up  to  tell  her  that  Mr. 
Hardy  wished  to  know  whether  he 
could  see  her. 

"Send  him  upi  and   say  that  I  am 

out,  Fanny,"  was  the  reply.  Hardy 
came  up  into  her  little  private  sitting- 
room,  and  greeted  her  as  he  always 
did.  He  took  a  seat  beside  her,  then 
fell  silent,  as  was  not  his  wont. 

"What  is  it,  Bertie — why  so  silent, 
pray  ?  You  generally  plunge  head  first 
into  things  when  you  come  to  me. 
What  troubles  you  to-night?"  She 
laid  her  soft  hand  lightly  on  his  brow, 
as  a  mother  soothes  her  infant — a  touch 
of  the  exquisite  womanliness  that  was 
her  chiefest  power. 

He  started  back  at  the  touch  and 
answered,  half  ashamed,  "  Onlya  fool- 
ish novel  I  have  been  reading,  Bella. 
It  is  strange  it  should  worry  me  at  all. 
So  commonplace,  too,  I  suppose,  but 
yet  it  bothers  me.  Shall  I  tell  you  the 
story,  little  girl  ?  " 

"Yes,  please.  Perhaps  I  can  help 
you,  if  you  will  let  me,  Bertie." 

"  A  simple  story,"  he  began  in  his 
usual  soft  and  careless  voice,  "  of  a 
man  scarcely  out  of  his  teens  who  met 
a  girl  once  in  the  summer  and,  being 
by  nature  cursed  with  the  love  of  flirt- 
ing, started  a  flirtation  with  her.  She 
was  a  perfect  picture  of  loveliness  such 
as  one  meets  but  once  in  all  a  lifetime, 
and  her  soul  was  the  soul  of  one  who 
had  naught  in  her  but  pure  womanli- 
ness. He  pleased  her  first ;  then  love 
awoke,  and  ever  in  her  eyes  dwelt 
trouble  battling  with  tenderness." 
Hardy  spoke  hurriedly  as  if  it  hurt  him 
to  speak  of  it  all — "And  in  the  end 
his  heart  went  out  to  her  and  bowed 
and  worshipped  and  the  tale  seemed 
told.  Her  home  was  far  away  in 
Louisiana,  and  when  she  left  him  it 
was  as  if  bis  life  were  torn  in  two,  and 
he  went  back  to  college  for  his  final 
year  as  one  who  dreams    and    wakes 

"The  next  summer  he  was  back 
again  in  the  north  where  his  home  was, 
but  sht  came  not  and  on  a  sudden  even 
her  tetters  ceased.  When  again  he 
wrote  and  still  no  answer  came,  he  in 
the  madness  of  his  pain  was  preparing 
to  go  south  and  look  for  her,  for  any 
thought  save  that  of  infidelity  seemed 

"One  day  a  letter  came — from  her 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



sister.  He  trembled  as  he  opened  it 
«nd  then  the  white  sheet  fluttered 
slowly  to  the  ground."  Hardy's  eyes 
were  rivetted  on  the  fire's  heart  and 
his  hands,  unnoticed,  clenched  the 
chair  arms  hard — "and  then  as  if  a 
dying:  man  were  ^theribg  up  his 
strength  he  straightened  up  and  thrust 
the  letter  in  his  pocket  and  greeted  his 
sister  with  a  smile  and  happy  word  as 
she  came  running  to  him. 

'"Daisy,  dear,  tell  Jimmy  not  to 
bring  the  carriage — I  am  not  going 
away — ^just  yet.' 

"Daisy  hurried  off  in  glad  surprise 
and  left  him  and  his  misery.  Again 
he  took  the  letter  from  his  pocket  and 
read  the  message : 

'"I  can  give  you  nothing  but  the  sad- 
dest news.  Dorothy,  our  pet  Dorothy, 
was  killed  by  being  thrown  from 
Gipsy's  back,  a  month  ago,  in  Florida. 
Forgive  my  delay— I  have  been  in  a 
delirium  of  fever  ever  since,  and  mother, 
you  know,  knows  nothing  of  the  tie 
that  bound  you  to  her.  Her  last 
words,  whispered  in  my  ear,  were  for 
you  and  she  died  with  your  name  on 
her  lips.  Farewell  and  comfort,  my 
brother.'  Kate. 

' '  He  left  home  a  month  after  that  and 
went  to  Boston  and  plunged  into  busi* 
ness  and  the  pleasures  of  society,  but  . 
hardness  dwelt  forever  at  his  heart  de- 
spite the  mask  of  gaiety  and  careless 
levity.  He  lived  fast  and  was  account- 
ed dangerous — but  charming— in  so- 
ciety." Poor  Hardy  hurried  over  his 
words  as  if  he  feared  his  power.  "Many 
were  the  friendships  that  he  formed 
and  varied  were  the  rdles  he  played. 

"  It  chanced  that  he  met  one  evening 
a  girl  with  eyes  such  as  once  before  he 
had  met,  and  her  he  made  a  friend — 
such  a  friend  as  you  are  to  me,  Bella — 
and  people  wondered,  for  he  was 
known   as  one   whose  friendship  was 

deceit  while  she  was  noble  in  her 
woman's  purity  and  grace. 

"One  night  he  heard  her  name  used 
lightly  with  his  own  and  memory  cried 
aloud  in  pain  as  her  eyes  passed  fjefore 
him  and  be  came  to  her,  his  friend, 
and  told  her  all  about  it,  and  how  the 
world ,  the  great  cruel  world  " — Hardy's 
eyes  never  left  hers  now  and  his  words 
were  slow  and  tender — "with  its  many- 
mouthed  babblings  called  her  foul  be- 
cause her  hand  clasped  his  in  friend- 
ship. He  told  her  how  in  broken- 
hearted sadness  her  friendship  had 
been  all  in  all  to  him — the  mainstay  of 
his  shattered  life,  and  rose  and  kissed 
her  once  and  left  her  and  went  out  in 
the  great  world  alone — forever,  as  be 
only  is  alone  who  dwells  in  solitude  of 
spirit  in  the  midst  of  myriad  crowds. 
'Do  you  understand  Bella?'  he  whis- 
pered hoarsely  as  he  speaks,  whose 
words  are  clogged  with  pain." 

She  looked  up,  startled,  half  seeing 
but  not  understanding  till  he  bent  over 
her  and  kissed  her  once,  then  turned 
away  and  passed  the  curtained  door 
and  turned  not  back.  Then  it  all  burst 
upon  her  and  she  shot  to  her  feet  and 
stretched  her  arms  abroad  and  cried 
aloud,  "Bertie,  my  Bertie,  I  care  not 
what  they  say,  I  love  you  Bertie — oh 
—  you  —  love — "  and  faintness  and 
gsilence  fell  upon  but  he  came  back  no 

Now  of  Bert  Hardy,  from  that  day  to 
this  no  word  has  ever  once  been  heard, 
for  no  one  knew  nor  ever  will  know  till 
the  great  books  are  opened  what  be- 
came of  him  other  than  this — that  I 
who  write  am  he,  though  a  man  of 
broken  frame  and  hoary  hair  and  dwell- 
ing far  from  Boston,  and  of  diflereot 
name.  And  thus  before  I  die  I  write 
of  him  that  was  that  all  who  knew  him 
may  know  thus  far  of  his  story. 

Digitized  by  Google 


By  a  PoUHcal  Onlooker. 

SOME  attentioD  may  convenieati)'  be 
given  to  the  political,  that  is  the 
popular,  view  of  a  Governor-General's 
functions,  as  opposed  to  the  strictly 
constitutional  aspects.  Democracy  mo- 
dilies  constitutions.  If  sufficiently  virile 
and  determioed  it  may  overturn  the 
roost  cherished  maxims.  The  consti- 
tutional writers  protest  in  alarmed 
terms  against  an  attack  on  a  sacred 
do£fma  made  by  a  truculent,  perhaps 
an  ignorant,  Democracy.  When  the 
latter  has  won,  the  constitutional  writ- 
ers, recovering  their  composure,  merely 
issue  a  new  edition  embodying  the 
fresh  precedent. ' 

The  Canadian  Dominion,  being  an 
aggregation  of  lesser  sovereignties 
controlled  by  a  federal  structure  ot 
large  dimensions,  is  the  chief  British 

a  Governor  at  war  with  his  Ministers 
on  any  exclusively  domestic  issue, 
must  necessarily  be  wrong.  He  might, 
in  such  a  case,  receive  the  embarrass- 
ing approbation  of  the  politicians  out 
of  office.  This  would  only  complete 
his  discomfiture.  In  extreme  instan- 
ces, the  power  of  dismissal  and  of  find- 
ing new  advisers  might  be  contemplat- 
ed, but  hardly  ever  'seriously  enter- 
tained. No  federal  Ministry,  with  a 
majority,  has  been  dismissed.  Dis- 
missal, as  the  result  of  a  Parliamentary 
defeat  or  an  appeal  to  the  constituen- 
cies, is  accepted  with  reluctance.  The 
convulsion  that  would  follow  forcible 
ejection  by  a  Governor  is  painful  even 
to  consider.  His  functions,  therefore, 
in  Canadian  affairs  may  be  r^arded  as 
definitely  fixed  for  all  time :  to  give  his 

colony.     It  exercises  wide  powers,  and  advisers  cordial  co-operation  and  sup- 

the  tendency  is  toward  the  enhance-  port,  regardless  of  party,  and  as  long 

ment  of  those  powers.    The  Governor-  as  they  keep  within  the  law  to  accept 

General  is  himself  governed  by  a  code  any  advice  they  tender.     To  have  feel- 

of  rules.  There  is  the  Act  of  1867, 
the  terms  of  his  commission,  and  any 
special  instructions  he  may  receive. 
There  is  also  the  lore  of  the  constitu- 
tion, expounded  in  many  text-books, 
in  countless  despatches  and  state 
papers,  and  partly  defined  in  the  Im- 
perial Regulations  for  the  Colonial 
Service.  If  doubt  should  arise  respect- 
ing the  application  of  principles  he  has 
the  newspapers.     Fortified  by  ail  this 

ings  is  the  luxury  of  an  individual. 
Governor-General  in  his  official  capa- 
city is  well  equipped  without  them.  If, 
for  example,  he  were  to  cherish  a  pre- 
ference for  wording  the  statutes  in  in- 
telligible English  what  pangs  he  would 
needlessly  create  for  himself  I  Toward 
all  minor  eccentricities  of  Parliaments 
and  politicians  a  Governor,  we  may  be 
sure,  exhibits  a  wise  toleration. 

Of  the  eight  Governors   who  have 

wise  guidance  a  Governor-General  may  served  in  Canada  since  the  foundation 
perform  his  official  functions  with  the  of  the  Dominion  in  1867,  Lord  Dufferin 
cheerful  confidence  that,  on  any  given      had  the  most  trying  experience.     Dur- 

occasion,  he  can  invoke  the  aid  of  some 
at  least  of  these  numerous  directors. 

In  his  attitude  toward  his  advisers 
OD  all  Canadian  questions  he  will  know 
that  there  is  one  safe  course:  to  abide 
by  their  counsel,  or  run  the  gauntlet 
of  political  hostility,  of  strictures  in 
the  press,  of,  perchance,  dignified  re- 
proof from  the  Colonial  Office  in  Lon- 
don,    The  popular  view  would  be  that 


ing  the  terms  of  his  immediate  prede- 
cessors. Lord  Monk  and  Lord  Lisgar, 
no  questions  of  prime  importance  be- 
tween the  Crown  and  the  Executive 
arose.  During  that  period  there  had 
been,  in  some  degree,  a  coalition  ot 
parties.  Materials  had  gradually  been 
forming  for  a  life-and-death  struggle 
between  the  two  old  parties  and  in 
1873,  the  year  after   Lord   Dufferin's 

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arrival,  the  storm  broke.  He  was  vio- 
lently assailed  duriDg;  1873  for  not  dis- 
missing' his  Ministers.  Strong;  pressure 
was  broug^ht  to  bear  upon  him.  In 
one  or  two  public  speeches,  notably 
that  at  Halifax,  and  in  his  despatches 
to  the  Colooial  Office  he  expounded  in 
an  admirable  manner  the  wisdom  of 
allowing  Parliament,  rather  than  the 
representative  of  the  Crown,  to  be  the 
judges  of  the  Ministry.  The  Govern- 
ment  resigned,  anticipating  a  hostile 
verdict  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
a  short  period  of  peace  ensued  for  the 
Governor.  The  threatened  withdrawal 
of  British  Columbia  from  the  Uoiop 
again  imposed  a  heavy  burden  upon 
Lord  DufTerin.  In  this  contest  he 
proved  once  more  the  value  to  the 
country  of  a  Governor,  exercising  the 
influence  of  V!ce-regal  authority,  above 
party,  and  with  British  experience  as  a 
guide.  It  is  doubtful  if  British  Colum- 
bia could  have  been  retained  without 
Lord  DufTerin's  infinite  tact  and  per- 
suasive eloquence.  Both  questions 
were  essentially  connected  with  domes- 
tic politics.  In  the  one  case  he  was 
blamed  for  not  employing  his  "re- 
served" power  of  dismissal.  In  the 
other  he  was  greeted  with  acclama- 
tions for  exercising  functions  that  we 
would  now  deem  an  invasion  of  the 
duties  of  the  Prime  Minister.  Thus 
inconsistent  arc  popular  judgments 
upon  the  actions  of  Gove  mors -General. 
But  if  public  opinion — often  capri- 
cious, usually  ill -instructed — lacks  con- 
sistency and  foresight,  there  are.  two 
schools  of  thought  with  a  fairly  well- 
defined  line  of  demarcation.  One  is 
prone  to  maintain  the  privileges  and 
exalt  the  functions  of  the  Governor- 
General.  Associated  usually  with  the 
Conservatives,  although  not  in  a  strict- 
ly party  sense,  this  doctrine  is  strength- 
ened by  the  testimony  of  constitutional 
writers.  They  have  studied  intently 
the  theory  of  the  constitution.  To 
them  all  the  prerogatives  of  the  Crown 
are  none  the  less  real  because  fallen 
into  desuetude.  In  Canada,  if  public 
opinion  is  democratic  and  assertive  of 
national  iodependence  in  practice,  it  is 
respectful  of  a  monarchy  so  illustrious 

and  so  powerful  as  ours.  The  Gover- 
nor-General, representing  the  Crown, 
could  rely  upon  a  potent  element  for 
support  if  he  preserved  the  dignity, 
while  asserting  the  full  privileges,  of 
his  office.  Moderate  men  might  shake 
theirheads.  Butin  a  conflict  moderate 
men  are  scarcely  a  factor.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Liberal  school — again 
using  a  word  in  no  strict  party  sense — 
would  minimize  the  powers  of  a  Gover- 
nor. Both  in  England  and  here,  and 
more  especially  here,  the  ultimate  goal 
of  the  leaders  is  absolute  self-govern- 
ment. They  are  loyal  to  the  Crown, 
but  not  being  the  guardians  of  estab- 
lished usage,  of  historical  prerogative, 
of  all  the  trappings  and  suits  of  heredi- 
tary monarchy,  their  natural  disposi- 
tion is  to  curtail  and  not  to  enlarge  the 
attributes  and  functions  of  the  Gover- 

It  is  when  the  Governor-General's 
position  as  an  Imperial  officer  comes 
into  question  that  the  whole  subject 
attains  the  condition  of  grave  import- 
ance. In  Canadian  affairs,  as  I  have 
said,  the  popular  view  is  that  he  must 
abide  by  the  advice  of  his  Ministers. 
Whatever  constitutional  authorities 
may  say,  any  other  course  would  be 
mischievous.  But  as  an  Imperial  re- 
presentative matters  may  come  before 
him  upon  which  the  advice  of  his  coun* 
cil  cannot  finally  determine  the  issue. 
At  the  present  time  this  is  of  peculiar 
sigrnificance.  It  happens  that  enthu- 
siasm' for  the  British  Empire  is  the 
dominant  note  in  Canadian  opinion.  In 
politics  it  is  considered  necessary  to  be 
Imperial  to  be  successful.  This  state 
of  affairs  cannot  affect  the  truth  of  a 
constitutional  theory  in  the  smallest 
degree.  But  statesmen  know  that  the 
personal  popularity  of  the  Queen  and 
her  family  throughout  the  British  Do- 
minions is  a  vital  force.  Constitution- 
al maxims,  it  is  conceivable,  might  be 
set  at  naug'ht  by  a  strong  ruler  with 
the  people  behind  him.  "Nice  cus- 
toms," says  Shakespeare,  "bow  to 
great  kings,"  In  other  words,  the 
power  that  creates  the  constitution  can 
create  precedents  or  set  aside  rules. 
So  a  Governor-General  in  Canada,  the 

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[>eople  being'  willing,  mig'ht  claim  and 
exercise  very  extensive  powers  with  a 
view  to  the  protection  and  development 
of  the  Imperial  interests,  even  in  times 
of  peace.  This  is  a  delicate  point. 
Where  is  the  line  to  be  drawn  as  be- 
tween Imperial  and  Canadian  affairs  ? 
In  the  making  of  treaties,  in  the  con- 
trol of  fleets  and  armies,  in  the  fulfil- 
ment of  international  obligations,  our 
Governments  have  not  full  powers. 
We  are  not  a  nation.  The  phrase  lends 
itself  to  declamatory  eloquence,  but  it 
is  not  true.  A  wise  Governor-General, 
with  wise  counsellors,  keeps  these  con- 
siderations in  the  background.  To 
deny  them,  however,  to  assert  the  con- 
trary, is  not  statesmanship.  From 
the  popular  standpoint,  therefore,  sure- 
ly the  functions  of  our  Governors,  act- 
ing as  Imperial  officers,  are  to  concili- 
ate, to  smooth  over  difficulties,  to 
reconcile  any  supposed  conflict  of  inter- 
est or  opinion,  and  if  any  should  arise 
— which  Heaven  forfend — to  act  mere- 
ly as  the  representative  of  the  Crown, 
as  the  ofiicial  intermediary  between  the 
Imperial  authorities  and  the  Canadian 
Executive,  allowing  them  to  carry  on 
the  controversy  and  not  by  any  act  or 
word  of  his  to  intensify  the  strain  or 
'  add  to  the  confusion. 

Yet,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  the 
Govern  or- General  is  undoubtedly  an 
Imperial  officer,  and  while  it  is  his  con- 
stitutional duty  to  give  his  confidence 
to  his  Canadia  advisers,  there  must  be 
occasions  when  he  is  responsible 
primarily  to  those  who  appointed  him. 
As  the  guardian  of  the  Imperial  in- 
terests he  may  receive  confidential  de- 
spatches which  he  cannot,  without  ex- 
press permission  from  the  Secretary 
for  the  Colonies,  show  even  to  his 
Prime  Minister.  The  answers  would 
naturally  be  kept  from  his  Cabinet. 
Mr.  Blake,  when  Minister  of  Justice  in 
1876,  secured  the  modification  of  the 
terms  of  the  Governor- General's  com- 
mission, enjoining  that  all  his  acts 
should  be  upon  the  advice  of  Ministers, 
"  except  in  the  rare  instances  in  which, 
owii^  to  the  existence  of  substantial 
Imperial  as  distinguished  from  Can- 
adian interests,  it  is  considered  that 

full  freedom  of  action  is  not  vested  in 
the  Canadian  people."  Here  is  a 
recognition  of  the  supremacy  of  the 
Crown,  ample  for  all  purposes.  As  the 
command  of  the  naval  and  land  forces, 
both  the  Imperial  forces  and  local 
militia,  is  vested  in  the  Queen,  the 
Governor-General  represents  her  in  this 
respect.  The  administration  of  the 
militia,  however,  is  carried  on  through 
a  responsible  Minister  and  not  by  the 
Governor  himself.  The  Imperial  officer, 
who  commands  the  militia,  is  subor- 
dinate to  the  civil  power.  In  time  of  ■ 
war,  however,  when  Canada  might  he 
the  theatre  of  bosilities  provision 
exists  for  the  control  of  all  the  forces 
being  vested  in  the  Governor.  There 
is  not  much  room  for  serious  contro- 
versy in  this  situation.  The  limitations 
of  Canadian  authority  in  treaty-making 
hardly  affect  the  Govern  or- General  or 
his  functions.  To  meet  the  Canadian 
feeling  in  this  respect  it  is  now  custom- 
ary to  appoint  Canadians  on  interna- 
tional commissionsrelatingtothe  affairs 
of  this  country.  In  these  and  all  other 
matters  the  tendency  is  to  enlarge  the 
colonial  power,  which  is  both  a  sa- 
gacious and  a  practicable  policy,  since 
-the  strength  of  the  Empire  consists 
not  in  the  strain  which  the  connection 
between  its  various  parts  will  stand, 
but  in  the  good- will  and  cordiality 
evoked  by  generous  and  friendly  treat- 

Lord  Dufferin,  who  exercised  by 
common  consent  the  most  important 
functions  that  can  fall  to  the  tot  of  a 
Cover  nor- General,  discharged  his 
duties,  not  so  as  to  magnify  his  office 
but  to  strengthen  the  Imperial  tie.  He 
drew,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  are 
easily  soothed,  a  modest  and  comical 
picture  of  his  functions.  He  compared 
a  constitutional  Governor  to  "  the 
humble  functionary  we  see  superin- 
tending the  working  of  some  compli> 
cated  mass  of  steam-driven  machinery, 
who  simply  walks  about  with  a  little 
tin  vessel  of  oil  in  his  hand,  and  who 
pours  in  a  drop  here  and  a  drop  there 
as  occasion  or  the  creaking  of  a  joint 
may  require,"  This  seeming  humility 
was  a  pleasing  sacrifice  to  the  gullibility 

□  igitizedbyGoOglC 



of  the  general  public.  All  the  proceed- 
ings and  the  speeches  of  this  very  bril- 
liant man  show  the  possibilities  of  the 
office  when  it  is  filled  by  a  master  of 
diplomacy.  It  is  improbable  that  the 
Canadian  electorate  of  to-day  is  any 
more  competent  to  decide  constitu- 
tional niceties  than  in  1S76,  since  the 
advent  of  manhood  franchise  has  merely 
added  to  the  sum  of  our  stupidity  and  a 
Canadian  Governor-General  may  easily 
draw  to  himself  a  considerable  share  of 
influence  if  he  appeals  over  the  heads 

of  the  politicaos  to  the  people  at  large. 
The  newspaper  press,  which  is  sup- 
erseding all  other  authorities,  eccles- 
iastical, judicial  and  political  by  sloiv 
degrees,  has  not  yet  fixed  the  exact 
status  of  a  Governor- General.  So 
much  depends  upon  whether  the 
editor's  party  is  in  or  out  of  office  that 
we  may  have  to  wait  long  before  it  is 
finally  determined  for  us  by  the  press 
whether  our  Governors  are  menaces  to 
public  liberty,  or  merely  amiable 
figures  clothed  in  gorgeous  uniforms. 


By  Walter  James  Bivwn. 


f  R.  ROBERT  BARR'S  articles  00 
Literature  in  Canada,  as  they 
appeared  in  the  November  and  De- 
cember issues  of  the  Canadian  Mag- 
azine, have  called  forth  considerable 
adverse  criticism.  These  articles  are 
admittedly  subject  to  revision  and 
correction.  One  discovers  in  them 
a  tendency  to  carelessness,  s^d  to  be 
the  habit  of  men  who  contribute 
"stories"  on  innumerable  subjects  to 
the  daily  papers.  No  doubt  Mr.  Barr 
would  have  made  a  deeper,  wider 
and  more  lasting  impression  if  he 
had  been  more  careful  in  his  state- 
ments ;  but  we  cannot  afford  to  lose 
sight  of  the  main  purpose  of  his  effort, 
together  with  all  the  truth  stated  and 
implied,  simply  because  his  illustra- 
tions are  inaccurate  and  one  or  two  of 
his  comparisons  are  overdrawn.  These 
defects,  so  apparent  to  his  critics,  have 
been  artfully  used  to  turn  aside  our 
attention  from  the  statement  of  actual 
conditions.  Although  this  statement 
is  not  perfectly  clear,  yet  it  was 
written  for  the  purpose  of  making  us 
think.     If  it  does  this  the  effort  was 

Upon  analysis,  the  articles  seem  to 
suggest  that  there  were  four  main 
ideas  in  the  author's  mind,  (i)  Edu- 
cated Canadians  lack  independence  of 
thought,   and  Canada  underestimates 

the  value  of  things  Canadian,  particu- 
larly Canadian  specialized  ability. 
(3)  The  Canadian  people  are  not  great 
lovers  of  good  literature  if  we  judge 
by  the  quality  and  number  of  books 
they  buy.  (3)  In  view  of  the  bet  that 
young  Canadian  authors  who  are  win- 
ning distinction  have  been  forced  to 
leave  their  native  land  to  secure  sup- 
port, Canada  does  not  exert  itself  to 
encourage  the  development  of  its  liter- 
ature. And  (4)  the  Canadian  public 
school  systems  are  subject  to  radical 
improvement,  especially  in  the  matter 
of  training  our  boys  and  girls  to  thttik 
and  act  with  independence  and  to 
justly  appreciate  their  native  land. 
Mr.  Barr's  position  may  not  be  one  with 
which  we  all  agree,  yet  we  ought 
to  inquire  most  carefully  into  our  con- 
ditions, and,  if  possible,  ascertain 
their  true  status,  and  then,  knowing 
the  facts,  look  for  avenues  through 
which  improvement  may  be  expected. 
The  thoughtful  observer,  be  he  na- 
tive or  foreign  bom,  often  wonders 
why  Canada  with  its  wealth  of  natural 
resources,  its  excellent  form  of  gov- 
ernment, and  its  splendid  people,  has 
been  so  long  in  asserting  itself.  The 
country  is  far  too  contented  with  its 
snail  pace,  instead  of  marking  each 
passing  year  with  progress  and 
achievement.     As    one    stretches   his 

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«ye  along"  the  imaginary  line  which 
iotemational  law  has  designated  the 
boundary  between  Caaada  and  the 
United  States,  it  19  with  difficulty  that 
he  understands  why  on  one  side  of 
this  line  business  should  be  active, 
^eat  cities  should  spring  up,  and 
^gantic  enterprises  should  be  in  suc- 
cessful operation  ;  on  the  other,  a  land 
as  rich  or  richer,  a  people  as  intelli- 
£fent  and  tree,  and  opportunities  as 
numerous,  that  business  is  tardy,  the 
great  cities  are  as  yet  dozing  towns 
■and  sleeping  villages,  and  mammoth 
undertakings  when  suggested  are  not 
«veD  considered.  He  notes  with  Mr.  ' 
Barr,  that,  "Canada  from  its  position 
on  the  map,  its  hardy  climate,  its 
grand  natural  scenery,  its  dramaUc 
and  historic  associations  should  be 
the  Scotland  of  America";  but  it  is 
not,  and  he  wonders  why.  It  seems 
that  our  ancestors  who  built  New 
France  upon  America's  shores,  estab- 
lished for  us  an  unfortunate  precedent. 
They  transplanted  the  traditions  of 
their  fathers  into  a  new  soil  and  en- 
deavoured to  duplicate  Old  World 
-conditions.  The  Scotch,  Irish,  Eng- 
lish and  German  Canadians  followed 
the  example  set.  In  nearly  all  cases 
the  Old  Worid  customs  were  allowed 
to  become  the  rule  of  faith  and  action. 
Even  now  in  many  sections  of  our 
•country,  the  language,  customs  and 
religion  of  the  settlers'  ancestors  are 
regarded  of  more  significance  than  im- 
provement in  agriculture,  mining, 
-commerce  and  education.  As  a  people 
we  have  not  been  prog^ssive.  Our 
greatest  need  is  to  assert  ourselves,  to 
grasp  our  opportunities  quickly  and 
zealously,  and  become  expert  in  solv- 
ing every-day  problems.  Canada  is 
perhaps  the  richest  land  in  natural 
resources  in  all  the  world,  yet  its 
meagre  population  is  scattered  and 
comparatively  poor  ;  its  form  of  gov- 
ernment is  the  most  flexible,  most  just 
and  most  zealous  in  its  guardianship 
of  the  individual  rights  and  liberties  of 
man,  yet  the  people  have  not  multi- 
plied, the  world's  oppressed  have  not 
heeded  our  solicitation,  and  the  immi- 
grartt  ships  laden  with  the  millions  of 

Europe's  restless  and  energetic  sur- 
plus have  not  been  sighted  off  our 

The  intense  conservatism  which  was 
the  chief  corner-stone  in  building  New 
France,  which  proved  a  remunerative 
principle  in  the  policy  of  the  Hudson's 
Bay  Company,  which  expressed  itself 
in  the  Family  Compact,  and  still  as- 
serted its  power  in  tbe  federation  of 
the  provinces,  has  not  only  permeated 
our  industry  and  stayed  the  wood- 
man's axe,  the  miner's  drill  and  the 
farmer's  plough,  but  it  has  filled  the 
halls  and  libraries  of  our  great  seats  of 
learning,  and  still  insists  that  the  Cana- 
dian youth  shall  spend  the  most  impres- 
sionable years  of  bis  life  turning  the 
musty  pages  of  antiquity. 

In  literature  their  ideas  have  a  simi- 
lar trend.  A  work  is  valued  largely 
because  of  its  age.  If  we  were 
to  listen  to  some  of  these  patriarchs 
we  would  conclude  that  Milton  was 
the  last  of  the  world's  mighty  intel- 
lects, and  we  ought  to  be  sorry  for 
him  because  he  was  bom  so  late.  One 
cannot  help  wondering  where  these 
men  conceived  the  idea  that  literature 
is  something  which  must  be  dead. 
The  student  of  the  philosophy  of  liter- 
ature has  a  different  conception.  To 
him  the  literary  work  of  each  century 
indicates  the  intellectual  progress  and 
the  rise  in  the  scale  of  civilization 
made  during  the  period.  He  under- 
stands very  clearly  that  the  literature 
of  one  age  is  not  the  literature  of 
another,  that  the  work  of  Homer  is 
not  to  be  measured  by  the  same  stan- 
dard as  the  work  of  Shakespeare,  that 
the  literature  of  yesterday  is  not  the 
literature  of  to-day.  Students  of  the 
scriptures  long  ago  discovered  that 
there  is  order  and  progress  written 
upon  every  page  of  the  entire  sixty-six 
volumes  which  we  call  the  Bible. 
They  discovered  a  harmony  which  in- 
dicated many  writers  but  one  Author, 
and  a  plan  which  revealed  that  the 
children  of  Abraham — of  all  peoples 
00  doubt  the  most  difficult  to  teach — 
were  taught  after  many  generations 
"  to  fear  God  and  keep  His  command- 
ments."   When  the  proper  time  came 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



the  Gentile  nations  were  admitted  to 
the  school.  This  process  of  instruc- 
tion is  still  going  on.  Psychologists 
have  discovered  that  each  individual 
man  repeats  in  himself  the  struggles 
of  the  race;  if  he  overcomes,  the  world 
is  made  better  and  civilization  is  ad- 
vanced by  virtue  of  his  influence  in 
behalf  of  right.  In  literature  the  same 
law  holds.  Homer  lived  and  wrote  to 
the  race  in  its  infancy.  The  child's  life 
is  the  continual  expression  of  the 
imagination,  fairy  tales  are  his  chief 
delight.  He  peoples  the  houses, 
streets,  fields,  valleys  and  woodlands 
with  the  creations  of  his  fancy.  He 
interprets  all  natural  phenomena  in 
terms  of  persons  and  things.  Just  in 
such  a  manner  Homer  sang  his  song 
of  the  imagination,  and  the  heroes  of 
his  ideal  became  the  real  heroes  of  the 
Greeks,  and  inspired  that  primitive 
people  to  malce  mighty  strides  toward 
civilization.  Virgil  copied  Homer. 
He  sang  to  the  Romans,  who  caught 
the  spirit  of  his  theme  and  rose  in 
majestic  splendour  to  a  high  altitude  of 
civil  and  military  power.  Then  came 
the  fall  of  the  ancient  empires,  and  the 
gradual  assertion  of  the  awakening 
West.  After  the  "dark  ages"  the 
nations  began  once  more  to  strive 
toward  higher  ideals.  England,  for 
example,  passed  through  a  series  of 
evolutions,  generation  followed  gener- 
ation, through  external  and  internal 
strife.  As  a  nation  her  infancy  was 
set  hard  with  difGculties.  Finally  she 
emerged  from  the  wars  of  childhood, 
and  began  to  consider  herself  and  the 
stuff  of  which  she  was  made.  A 
Shakespeare  arose,  and  with  a  few 
strokes  of  his  pen  revealed,  in  pano- 
ramie  view,  to  the  people  of  his  time, 
what  a  curious  thing  human  nature  is. 
He  showed  them  the  reasons  for  all  the 
struggles  which  had  dwarfed  the  con- 
science and  sapped  the  nation  of  its 
vitality.  In  his  Richard  III.  uncon- 
trolled ambition  knows  not  right  or 
wrong,  nor  do  the  greatest  barriers 
stay  its  greed.  In  Macbeth  a  guilty 
conscience  does  not  cease  to  torture, 
its  fires  will  not  be  quenched.  In 
Hamlet,  that  "tragedy  of  thought"  is 

illustrated  the  operations  of  a  Divine 
Providence  in  human  destiny.  In  King 
Lear  man  is  seen  in  conflict  with  mis- 
fortune, and  in  Othello  he  is  the  vic- 
tim of  jealousy  and  treason.  Each  of 
Shakespeare's  plays  taught  his  age  a 
specific  lesson  which  has  enabled  the 
world  since  to  judge  more  accurately 
and  classify  human  nature  more  intel- 
ligently. England  was  centuries  try- 
ing to  overcome  reli^ous  intolerance, 
and  persecution  followed  upon  perse- 
cution ;  but  men  found  that  force  does 
not  champion  belief,  and  then  "that 
mighty  arc  of  song — the  divine  Mil- 
ton," to  whom  "duty,  'stern  daughter 
of  the  voice  of  God,*  was  ever  para- 
mount," lived  and  wrote  to  justify  the 
ways  of  God  to  man,  and  to  show  bow 
humanity  may  climb  toward  divinity. 
Wordsworth  called  the  attention  of  his 
age  to  the  resplendent  beauty  and 
charm  of  out-door  life,  and  the  riches 
of  knowledge  to  be  gained  from  nature 
as  a  teacher.  Tennyson  in  his  turn 
harmonized  the  work  of  his  predeces- 
sors and  then  opened  the  secret  cham- 
bers of  the  heart  and  laid  bare  the  soul 
as  it  reveals  itself  in  its  struggles  to- 
ward God. 

Each  period  of  the  world's  his- 
tory, whether  in  England  or  else- 
where, has  its  distinct  and  characteris- 
tic literature.  The  literature  of  yes- 
terday was  abstract,  to-day  literature 
is  concrete.  We  are  not  now  so  much 
concerned  with  the  operations  of  the 
imagination  in  poetic  fancy,  or  with 
the  doctrinal  theories  of  the  theo- 
logians, or  the  hazy  coirceptions  of  the 
scientists  as  we  are  with  the  solution 
of  the  troublesome  problems  of  our 
particular  age.  The  study  in  which 
most  men  are  now  interested  is  the 
science  of  earninga  living.  Thetrwo- 
ing  which  is  most  popular  is  that  which 
assists  men  to  strong  and  accurate 
thinking.  The  research  which  appeals 
to  us  is  that  made  with  a  stern  and 
practical  purpose  to  give  the  worker 
justice.  The  religion  men  are  longing 
for  is  the  religion  of  Christ,  not  the 
theology  of  the  schools,  nor  the  classic 
fossilism  of  the  churches,  but  the  uni- 
versal application  of  the  law  of  love. 

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That  which  is  literature  to-day  gathers 
the  rays  of  lif  ht  resulting  from  the  ex- 
periences of  the  preceding  centuries 
and  focuses  them  upon  the  dark 
places  of  the  earth,  it  concentrates  the 
thoug'ht  of  the  ag'e  upon  the  problems 
of  how  to  reduce  "man's  inhumanity 
to  man,"  which  "  makes  countless 
thousands  moum,"  and  throws  a  flood 
of  suDshioe  upon  the  bitterness  and  toil 
which  will  reveal  to  us  the  final  end  and 
purpose  of  it  all. 

Canadians  who  think  in  the  past  and 
feel  that  their  ideas  must  conform  to 
those  of  another  age  cannot  be  inde- 
pendent in  their  thought,  nor  can  they 
fully  appreciate  the  literature  of  the 
present.  It  is  high  time  that  we  as 
individuals  and  as  a  nation  should 
break  from  our  feet  the  fetters  of  the 
past.  We  should  cease  to  bind  our 
minds  with  the  casings  of  antiquity, 
we  should  cut  loose  from  prejudice, 
narrowness  and  provincialism,  and  be- 
come alive  to  the  demands  and  oppor- 
tunities of  our  country  and  our  time. 

As  Canadians  we  should  develop 
that  kind  of  loyalty  which  will  streng- 
then our  valuation  of  all  that  may  be 
found  or  produced  in  Canada,  but  we 
should  at  the  same  time  avail  our- 
selves of  every  opportunity  and  advan- 
tage offered  by  our  proximity  to  the 
great  and  ambitious  neighbouring  re- 
public We  should  endeavour  to  keep 
more  of  our  energetic  young  business 
and  professional  men  within  our  bord- 
ers, we  should  be  kinder  to  our  artists, 
musicians  and  authors  and  not  compel 
them  to  seek  elsewhere  a  home  in 
order  to  make  a  living.  We  are  even 
unkind  to  our  own  after  we  force  them 
to  abide  under  a  different  flag.  A  few 
weeks  ago  a  high-class  musical  or- 
ganization of  Boston  was  offered  at  a 
very  low  price  for  one  evening  to  a 
Toronto  club.  At  a  meeting  of  the 
club's  executive  committee  the  objec- 
tion was  raised  that  the  organization 
was  United  States  and  the  matter  was 
then  dropped.  This  is  an  example  of 
extreme  prejudice.  The  fact  Is,  the 
leader  of  the  musical  organization  and 
over  half  of  the  present  members  are 
Canadians,  but  they  are  under  an  Unit- 

ed States  name.  It  is  a  bitter  pill,  but 
we  are  forced  to  take  it,  that  Canadian 
specialized  ability  in  any  line  does  not 
meet  with  general  favour  in  Canada. 

Mr.  Barr's  second  point  as  to  the 
quality  and  number  of  books  our  people 
read  may  not  deserve  the  same  kind  of 
treatment  as  his  first.  It  will  doubt- 
less be  ascertained,  if  the  matter  were 
thoroughly  examined,  that  on  the 
whole  Canadians  read  as  much  as  any 
other  nation  under  similar  conditions. 
Seventy  or  seventy-five  per  cent  of  the 
population  of  the  Dominion  is  engaged 
in  agricultural  pursuits.  As  a  class 
they  are  not  great  readers,  although 
among  them  will  be  found  some  of  our 
ablest  thinkers,  best  read  and  most 
scholarly  men.  A  few  years  ago  a 
farmer  of  average  ability,  a  gentleman 
who  had  travelled  a  good  deal  and  was 
supposed  to  possess  a  few  accomplish- 
ments, came  to  visit  the  writer's  father. 
While  passing  through  the  sitting- 
room  one  day,  his  eyes  rested  upon  a 
small  book-shelf  which  was  built  into 
the  wall,  in  which  the  members  of  the 
family  kept  a  few  reference  books  and 
usually  the  books  being  read  at  the 
time.  He  looked  them  over  and  then 
turned  to  a  member  of  the  family  pre- 
sent, with  an  expression  which  indi- 
cated that  he  thought  those  were  all 
the  hooks  in  the  house,  and  said, 
"What  a  lot  of  books  you  havel" 
When  he  was  informed  that  there  were 
libraries  in  other  sections  of  the  house, 
he  was  astonished.  Another  case  may 
be  cited  which  illustrates  a  different 
state  of  things.  During  the  past  sum- 
mer the  writer  became  acquainted  with 
a  young  lady  who  proved  to  be  one  of 
the  best  patrons  of  the  city's  libraries. 
Every  other  day  she  brought  home  an 
armful  of  books  and  returned  them  as 
soon.  It  was  diflicult  to  understand 
how  she  read  so  many  volumes  in  a 
few  hours.  One  day  the  following 
dialogue  occurred  : 

"You  seem  to  be  an  avidious  reader. 
How  do  you  manage  to  read  so  many 
books  in  so  short  a  timeP  I  usually 
spend  days  over  a  book  of  ordinary 
size,  while  you  seem  to  finish  it  in  one 

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"You  see  our  objects  in  reading  are 
different  You  read  to  cultivate  your 
mind,  I  read  to  kill  time.  You  read 
to  increase  your  store  of  knowledge. 
With  me  it  is  different,  all  I  want  to 
know  is,  what  a  story  is,  who  is  the 
hero  and  who  is  the  heroine,  then — 
how  it  ends,  I  read  every  book  that 
conies  out." 

In  the  first  instance  the  gentleman 
had  ton  few  books,  and  in  the  last  the 
young  lady  had  too  many.  Librarians 
in  our  cities  and  towns  tell  us  that 
comparatively  few  good  books  are 
called  for,  the  people  read  mostly 
"trash."  If  we  stop  at  a  book  store 
and  ask  for  a  strictly  first-class  work, 
we  are  told  that  the  book  will  be 
secured  if  desired,  but  it  is  not  kept 
in  stock  as  few  of  that  kind  are  ever 
called  for.  Our  Sunday  School  libra- 
ries are  ordinarily  made  up  of  books 
which  give  the  attendants  little  or  no 
trouble  and  owe  their  places  on  the 
shelves  to  the  members  of  the  commit- 
tee having  pronounced  them  "good 
books  "  written  by  well-meaning  auth- 
ors, on  worthy  themes,  and  published 
by  reliable  religious  firms.  Our  public 
schools  are  without  libraries,  and  those 
in  the  high  schools  and  collegiate  insti- 
tutes are  for  reference  only  and  in  no 
way  ade(]uately  meet  the  reading  tastes 
and  inclinations  of  the  students.  Even 
our  college  and  university  libraries  are 
considered  in  most  instances  merely 
as  adjuncts  to  the  class-rooms,  not  as 
educational  forces  in  themselves.  The 
mastery  of  books  seems  to  be  a  lost 
science.  Only  a  few  days  ago  a  gentle- 
man informed  the  writer  that  he  was 
collecting  a  library.  Inquiries  were 
made  regarding  his  plan,  the  books  he 
had  purchased,  and  those  listed. 
Imagine  the  surprise  when  it  was  dis- 
covered that  his  idea  of  a  library  was 
a  collection  of  books  which  would  fill 
so  much  space  on  the  shelves  con- 
structed by  his  generous  carpenter. 
He  had  purchased  complete  sets  in  re- 
spectable bindings  direct  from  the 
publishers,  not  a  volume  of  which  be 
had  read, or,  so  far  as  could  be  learned, 
intended  to  read.  He  is  a  collector  of 
books,  nothing  more.     The  joys  and 

struggles  of  the  intellectual  life  are  un- 
known to  him.  One  cannst  buy  a 
private  library  in  a  day,  or  in  a  year, 
it  is  the  garnering  of  a  life-time.  Each 
book  is  carefully  selected  and  more 
carefully  read,  ft  is  prized  because  of 
its  particular  association  and  for  its 
contribution  to  the  intellectual  make- 
up of  its  possessor.  If  one  walks 
into  a  gentleman's  study  and  giances 
over  the  book-shelves  he  immediately 
finds  himself  face  to  face  with  the  real 
life  of  his  host.  He  knows  wbo  that 
geatleman's  great  friends  are,  there* 
fore  he  knows  his  life.  To  read  and 
think  over  great  books  means  to 
commune  with  the  greater  minds  with- 
in, and  to  tone  one's  own  Kfe  accord- 
ingly. What  shall  be  said  then  of  the 
smallness  of  those  minds  which  devour 
literary  "trash,"  or  only  the  news- 
papers, or  still  worse  only  a  local 
newspaper?  The  reason  our  people 
as  a  whole  are  not  great  readers  is 
because  comparatively  few  of  them 
have  access  to  and  are  interested  in 
good  books.  This  is  not  altogether 
their  fault,  for  little  has  so  far  been 
done  to  stir  up  any  general  interest  in 
good  literature,  and  educated  people 
apparently  feel  no  responsibility  id 
the  matter.  Mr,  Barr's  criticism,  in- 
stead of  arousing  indignation,  should 
stimulate  us  to  discover  the  truth 
regarding  our  condition. 

As  one  takes  hts  bii^raphtcal  dic- 
tionary from  his  library  shelf,  he  feels 
confident  that  Mr.  Barr  must  be  mis- 
taken regarding  Canadian  authors 
leaving  their  native  land;  but  when  he 
discovers  that  of  the  fifty  Canadians 
mentioned  the  majority  of  those  living 
are  residents  of  either  the  United 
States  or  Great  Britain,  he  admits 
that  Mr.  Barr  knew  his  ground  before 
he  suggested  that  Canada  might  exert 
itself  more  fruitfully  in  behalf  of  its 
own  literature. 

In  considering  the  fourth  point,  it 
will  be  found  that  the  Canadian  public 
school  systems  compare  very  favourably 
with  the  other  school  systems  of  the 
world,  yet  it  would  be  unfortunate 
were  they  not  subject  to  improvement. 
As  the  country  increases  in  intelligence 

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and  the  laws  of  education  become 
better  uoderstood  these  sjrstems  will 
gpradually  meet  the  practical  needs  of 
the  boys  and  ^rls  more  completely, 
and  will  give  them  greater  value  for 
the  time  they  spend  at  school. 

The  important  work  in  educating  a 
child  begins  in  the  home.  Before  a 
boy  reaches  the  school  age  he  should 
know  the  fundamental  .principles  of 
moral  law,  he  should  be  familiar  with 
the  striking  characteristics  of  his 
naUonal  history  and  should  be  schooled 
ID  the  elements  of  patriotism.  This 
part  of  his  education  rests  almost  en- 
tirely frith  his  mother.  He  learns 
from  her  lips  the  great  truths  of  life, 
and  something  of  the  opportunities  for 
service  hts  future  citizenship  will  offer. 
How  shall  he  acquire  these  early  im- 
pressions and  lay  this  broad  and  neces- 
sary foundation  if  his  mother  does  not 
know  the  principles  governing  child 
life  ?  Each  home  should  be  its  own 
Kindergarten.  Something  is  wrong 
with  our  ssrstem  when  this  special 
training  is  given  to  a  select  few,  every 
-  girl  should  have  ail  that  is  practical 
and  worth  knowing  in  it.  We  have 
been  working  heretofore  on  a  mistaken 
premises.  It  is  true  our  gtrls  should 
learn  literature,  art  and  music  ;  but 
most  of  their  lives  will  call  for  a  wide 
and  accurate  knowledge  of  nursing, 
child-training  and  home-making. 

When  the  boy  goes  to  school  he  is 
often  at  a  disadvantage,  no  matter  how 
beautiful  his  home  may  be,  the  school 
ustially  has  the  appearance  of  a  work- 
shop, the  rooms  are  out  of  proportion, 
there  is  nothing  to  suggest  the  beauti- 
ful, if  any  pictures  at  all  are  upon  the 
walls  they  are  of  a  poor  sort.  The 
school  building  is  usually  a  pile  of 
masonry  put  up  with  little  attempt  at 
architectural  beauty  or  design.  Most 
school  yards  are  devoid  of  ornamenta- 
tion. All  might  have  a  few  flowers, 
shrubs  and  trees.  The  yard  might  be 
enclosed  with  a  hedge,  and  in  most 
cases  a  small  garden  could  easily  be 
attached  which  would  teach  the  chil- 
dren the  nature  of  flowers  and  vege- 
tables and  interest  them  in  their  cultiva- 
tion.  The  boy  meets  another  difficulty 

in  the  person  of  his  teacher.  The  child 
is  expanding  daily,  each  rising  sun 
brings  its  flood  of  new  impressions, 
and  each  hour  is  potent  with  influences 
which  will  in  the  aggregate  make  his 
character.  His  teacher  often  realizes, 
in  some  vague  way,  the  importance  of 
his  work,  but  usually,  if  he  is  a  young 
man,  his  interest  in  the  schoel  is  only 
passive,  hts  ambition  is  set  upon  some 
goal  in  the  distance,  he  is  not  a  teacher 
by  choice  or  profession,  the  school 
room  to  him  is  only  a  stepping-stone 
to  something  beyond.  The  salary  is 
BO  small  he  cannot  afford  to  make  this 
his  life-work,  so  puts  in  his  time  with- 
out enthusiasm,  and  leaves  at  the  first 
opportunity.  Even  ladies  And  the 
demands  upon  them  excessive  and 
leave  the  school  room  without  a  sug- 
gestion of  regret.  So  the  child  be- 
comes a  boy,  and  the  boy  a  man.  He 
went  to  school  it  is  true,  he  learned  a 
few  things  inside  the  school  room  and 
over  bis  books  at  home,  but  his  real 
education  was  acquired  out  on  the 
streets  and  in  the  fields.  There  he 
learned  the  practical  things  of  life. 

Our  public  school  systems  should 
tend  themselves  toward  evolution  in 
the  direction  of  the  practical.  Why 
educate  boys  and  girls  away  from  the 
business  of  life  ?  Some  one  must  do 
the  common,  ordinary  and  necessary 
things — nothing  is  common  or  ordinary 
if  done  in  the  right  spirit  and  with  com- 
plete knowledge— why  not  all  know 
how  to  do  them  and  do  them  better  ? 
To  be  educated  means  more  than  pass- 
ing through  the  grades  of  a  public 
school,  theforms  of  ahigh  school,  and 
the  years  of  a  university.  It  means  a 
balanced  and  disciplined  mind,  develop- 
ed senses  and  a  facility  in  acquiring  and 
utilizing  knowledge.  The  public 
schools  necessarily  lay  the  foundations 
and  give  the  impetus  to  future  effort. 
They  could  render  the  children  larger 
service  by  devoting  more  time  to 
nature  studies,  and  by  taking  the  young 
scholars  out  into  the  fields,  among  the 
rocks,  into  the  stone  quarries,  into 
public  buildings,  art  galleries,  and 
museums,  and  explain  the  objects  of 
interest  to  them.      Each  school  might 

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have  a  museum  of  its  own  containing 
articles  of  commerce,  collections  of 
birds  and  insects,  specimens  of  rocks, 
Indian  relics,  grasses,  weeds  and 
flowers.  Most  of  these  could  be  col- 
lected by  the  scholars  from  year  to 
year.  The  children  should  not  be  en- 
couraged, much  less  forced  to  attempt 
so  many  subjects.  The  expert  poultry- 
man  may  find  it  a  good  plan  to  "cram" 
his  fowls  when  he  is  fattening  them 
tor  a  special  market ;  but  informa- 
tion can  not  be  given  to  young  boys 
and  girls  in  the  same  way  expediently. 
The  vast  majority  leave  school  before 
they  are  fourteen  years  of  age,  not  be- 
cause they  are  forced  through  circum- 
stances to  do  so,  nor  because  they  are 
indifferent  to  education  ;  but  because 
there  is  no  evident  relationship  between 
their  school  studies  and  the  duties  of 
this  work-a-day  world.  This  is  the 
key  to  reform.  Then  the  high  schools 
should  be  twice  as  numerous  and  twice 
as  full.  They  should  build  a  practical 
structure  upon  the  practical  foundation. 
Manual  training,  agriculture,  and  do- 
mestic science,  should  have  liberal 
treatment  in  every  high  school  curri- 
culum. Our  ideas  on  education,  like 
our  books,  need  revision.  Our  theory 
that  a  boy  should  spend  seven  or  eight 
years  in  the  public  school,  four  or  five 
years  in  the  high  school,  and  four  or 
more  years  at  the  university  looks  ex- 
cellent on  paper;  but  it  is  not  just  to 
the  boy  who  leaves  in  either  the  first  or 
second  stage.  It  may  be  more  just  to 
the  young  man  who  has  the  money  and 
inclination  to  spend  four,  five  or  more 
years  after  he  leaves  the  university  ac- 
quiring a  professional  education,  and 
then  is  willing  to  wait  for  five  or  ten 
years  longer  before  he  can  earn  a  living 
for  himself. 

Credit  must  be  given  to  Mr.  Barr  for 
his  courage  in  bringing  these  matters 
to  the  attention  of  the  Canadian  people. 
Public  men  are  usually  dubious  about 
undertaking  or  even  suggesting  re- 
form. He  is  correct  in  suggesting  that 
many  of  our  educated  men  lack  inde- 
pendence of  thought.  Their  opinions 
are  based  on  precedent,  precedent  on 

conservatism,  conservatism  on  tradi- 
tion, and  tradition  on  antiquity.  He 
suggests  that  Canada  does  not  recog- 
nize talent  with  any  degree  of  appreci- 
ation. Ask  the  hundreds  of  ten-talent 
Canadians  living  abroad  if  this  is  true. 
He  suggests  again,  that  ordinary  Can- 
adians do  not  appreciate  Canada.  This 
cannot  be  ascertained  exactly  ;  but  we 
venture  to  a^ert  that  nine  out  of  ten 
of  the  young  fellows  who  cross  into 
Uncle  Sam's  dominions,  like  Peter  of 
old,  deny  thrice,  and  with  an  oath  that 
they  ever  knew  Canada.  They  speak  of 
the  land  of  their  birth  not  oftener  than 
once  in  ten  years,  and  their  children 
are  ' '  red-hot  "  Americans.  He  is  cor- 
rect also  in  stating  that  we  might  buy 
more  books  of  a  better  quality.  We 
admit  that  newspapers  in  general,  and 
local  newspapers  in  particular  are  not 
the  best  possible  food  for  the  future 
Burns  and  Scott,  who  are  growing  up 
in  our  midst.  A  comprehensive  travel- 
ling library  system  may  meet  the  diffi- 
culty and  take  away  this  reproach.  Mr. 
Barr  is  right  when  he  claims  that  io 
order  to  have  a  Canadian  literature  we  • 
must  have  Canadian  writers,  we  must 
keep  them  at  home,  we  must  encourage 
them  by  buying  and  reading  their 
works  ;  if  we  do  this  we  shall  need 
money  to  buy,  and  the  inclination  to 
read,  a  condition  which  depends  upon 
the  practical  efficiency  of  our  education- 
al systems. 

Canadians  have  reached  that  stage 
in  their  national  history  when  it  is  nec- 
essary to  do  much  hard  thinking  along 
many  lines.  Our  fathers  have  been 
occupied  in  hewing  down  the  forests, 
building  roads  and  constructing  the 
civil  fabric  upon  which  rests  the  safety, 
permanency  and  liberty  of  our  people. 
Ours  is  a  larger  work  and  a  greater 
task.  The  problems  of  race  and  re- 
ligion ;  industry  and  commerce  ;  trans- 
portation and  communication ;  im- 
migration and  education — all  these  and 
more  are  awaiting  solution.  Canada 
needs  less  politics  and  more  econom- 
ics, less  seliishness  and  more  patriot- 
ism, less  conservatism  and  more  origin- 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

CERENT  Events  Abr^ 

"^   by    W.Sanford   Evans         ^^ 

THE  rebellion  in  Ashanti,  in  the  hin- 
terland of  the  Gold  Coast,  is  evi- 
dently serious.  Accurate  news  does 
not  quickly  reach  the  outer  world,  and 
so  the  exact  facts  are  not  known.  It 
would  seem,  however,  that  the  natives 
are  besieging'  Sir  Frederick  Hodgson, 
the  Governor,  in  Kumassi.  It  is  re- 
ported also  that  the  natives  in  Guman, 
a  territory  to  the  north-west  of  Ashanti, 

On  May  14,  Mr.  Chamberlain  intro- 
duced into  the  Imperial  House  of  Com- 
mons "The  Commonwealth  of  Aus- 
tralia Constitution  Act,"  and  the  bill 
was  read  a  first  time.  This  bill  was 
first  drafted  at  the  famous  Sydney 
Convention  in  1891,  and  it  has  been 
redrafted  at  subsequent  conventions. 
It  was  twice  submitted  to  a  referendum 

are  in  revolt,  and  that  still  other  tribes     and  in  its  present  form  was  sanctioned 

are  showing  restlessness.     The  reason      by  a  large  majority  in  the  Colonies  a 

given  for  the  uprising  is  the  attempt  of      plying  for  federation.      It  is  the  seco: 

the  British  to  secure  possession  of  what 
is    known    as    the   "Golden   Stool." 
This  is  a  huge  gold  nugget  which  was 
acquired  by  the  kings  of  Kumassi  at 
the    beginning    of    the    century,    and 
made    the    royal  seat,  and  which  has 
ever  since  been  regarded  by  the  natives 
as  a  sort  of  fetish  which  would  ensure 
supremacy  to  its  possessors.     It  has 
thus  been  a  continual  incentive  to  revolt. 
When    King    Prempeh    was    dispos- 
sessed by  the  British,  the  Golden  Stool 
was  carried  oflf  and  secreted.     Its 
hiding-place  is  said  to  have  been 
revealed  to  Sir  Frederick  Hodg- 
son,  who   sent  a  party   to  seize 
it,    apparently   without    success. 
Whether  or  not  he  was  needlessly  | 

going  contrary  to  native  suscep-        [^ 
tibilities    cannot    be    determined         JT 
without  further  information  ;  but        '^ 
it  is  probable  that  an  uprising  was         ^ 
threatened  and  he  felt  called  upon 
to  take  some  action.     Two  points 
should  be  noted.     Guman  is  partly 
within  the  French  sphere  of  influ- 
ence, and  the  possibility  of  intri- 
gues is   suggested.      The  other 
point  of  interest  is  that  the  troops 
employed  by  the  British  are  native 
troops  drawn  from  the  native  Con- 
stabulary end  from  the  West  Afri- 
can   Frontier    Force.     They    are 
said  to  be  fine  soldiers. 

bill  of  the  kind  to  come  before  the  Im- 
perial Parliament,  the  first  being  the 
British  North  America  Act.  This  fact 
suggests  a  comparison,  which  on  other 
grounds  also  must  be  most  interesting 
to  Canadians.  The  Australians  have 
not  altogether  approved  of  our  consti- 
tution. They  haVe  drawn,  perhaps, 
more  largely  from  the  constitutions  of 
the  United  States  and  Switzerland  than 
from  ours,  and  have  added  some  ori- 
ginal provisions.     Only  a  few  features 



— MinntapoHs   Tribune. 

can  be  touched  upon  here.  In  the  first 
place,  they  have  taken  some  of  their 
phraseology  from  the  United  States, 
and  spealc  of  a  Commonwealth,  States, 
and  a  House  of  Representatives,  in- 
stead of  a  Dominion,  Provinces  and  a 
House  of  Commons,  Then  their  Sen- 
ate is  to  be  composed  of  six  represent- 
atives from  each  State,  no  matter  what 
its  population,  thus  adopting  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  United  States  Constitution. 
The  Swiss  referendum  is  adopted  for 
all  constitutional  amendments.     After 

TO  DEWBV  :    "  BUT  HOW  DO  1  KNOW 

— Detroit  News. 

both  Houses  have  considered  such  an 
amendment  it  Is  to  be  submitted  to  the 
people  and  a  majority  vote  decides.  It 
then  goes  to  the  Govern  or- General  for 
his  sanction.  This  is  an  important 
departure  from  the  Canadian  Constitu- 
tion, under  which  an  amendment  must 
go  to  the  British  Parliament.  The 
House  of  Representatives  is  to  be  com- 
posed of  members  elected  from  the 
different  States  in  proportion  to  popu- 
lation, but  no  State  is  to  have  less  than 
five.  Senators  are  to  be  elected  oo 
exactly  the  same  franchise,  although 
not  in  proportion  to  population.  A 
representative  is  elected  for  three  years 
and  a  senator  for  six.  In  powers  the 
two  Houses  are  to  be  equal.  A  dead- 
lock is  guarded  against  by  the  provi- 
sion that  in  case  of  a  difference  the 
measure  may  be  introduced  again 
within  three  months,  and  if  the  differ* 
ence  continues,  both  Houses  may  be 
dissolved.  If  the  new  Houses  still 
differ  they  shall  hold  a  joint  session 
and  settle  the  question  by  a  majority 
vote.  The  British  Cabinet  system  is 
to  be  preserved. 

J*  ^ 
As  read  a  first  time  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  the  bill  was  exactly  as  it 
had  been  voted  upon  by  the  people  of 
Australia.  The  British  Government 
had  wanted  it  changed  in  some  re- 
spects, but  the  delegates  who  were 
sent  with  it  to  England  said  they  had 
no  power  to  change  it,  and  the  Colonial 
premiers,  when  appealed  to  by  Mr. 
Chamberlain,  claimed  that  they  also 
were  without  the  power.  The  people 
had  decided,  not  only  upon  the  sub- 
stance, but  also  upon  the  letter  of  it, 
and  only  by  a  referendum  could  an 
amendment  be  agreed  upon.  But  the 
British  Government  would  not  accept 
it  as  it  stood,  and  so  the  plan  was 
adopted  of  introducing  it  in  its  origin- 
al form,  amending  it  before  making  it 
law,  and  taking  the  risk  that  it  would 
be  approved  when  submitted  to  a  new 
referendum  in  Australia.  Objection 
centred  about  Clause  74.  This  clause 
prohibited  any  appeal  from  the  High 
Court  of    Austridia  to  the  Queen-in- 

□  igitizedby-GoOglC 


Council,   io  any  matter  involving 
the  interpretation  of  the  new  con- 
stitution.    Only    two    exceptions 
were  provided  for  :  the  one,  when 
the  public  interests  of  another  part 
of  Her  Majesty's  Dominions  were 
involved  ;  and  the  other,  allowing 
the  Queen  to  exercise  her  preroga- 
tive to  grant  an  appeal  in  certain 
classes    of  cases,    subject    to   the 
right  of  the  Parliament  of  Australia 
to  limit  these  classes.     This  was 
regarded   as    stretching   the  for-        oj 
malties  of   Empire   even   to    the 
breaking    point.      British    sover- 
eignty is  still  a  real   thing.     To 
this    clause    Mr.    Chamberlain    practi- 
cally  confined   his   objections.     There 
vrere  other  objectionable    clauses,   as, 
for  example,  that  giving  the  Australian 
Parliament  the    power  to    make  laws 
with  respect  to  "external  affairs,"  and 
to  "the    relaMons    of   the    Common- 
wealth with  the  islands  of  the  Pacific." 
But  there  would  be    danger  in    such 
matters  only  if  the  local  Court  had  the 
power  to  interpret  the  Constitution.    If 
an   appeal  should   lie  to    an    Imperial 
Court,  any  action  coctrary  to  Imperial 
interests  might  be  prevented.    It  is  for 
this  reason  that  the  fight  is  beiug  made 
on  Clause  74    The  Liberals  seem  inclin- 
ed to  favour  the  passage  of  the  bill  just 
as  drafted  in  Australia.     The  course  of 
the  measure  will  be  watched  with  the 
greatest  interest. 

*    j» 

This  difference  of  opinion         

on  the  question  of  appeal 
g'ave  an  opportunity  to  the 
Imperial  Government  to  pro- 
pose the  formation  of  an  Im- 
proved Court  of  Appeal  for 
the  whole  Empire.  Appeals 
from  the  British  Isles  now 
go  to  a  committee  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  while  ap- 
peals from  other  portions  of 
the  Empire  go  to  the  Judi- 
cial Committee  of  the  Privy 
Council.  The  membership  of 
these  committees  is  much 
the  same,  but  the  bodies 
are    distinct.     The    Govern- 


—Nrm  York  Tribunt. 

Bitot  propose  to  make  one  body  of 
them,  adding  to  the  present  mem- 
bership a  representative  of  Canada, 
South  Africa,  Australia  and  India. 
>The  colonial  representatives  would  be 
made  members  of  the  Privy  Council 
and  life  Peers,  although  their  terms  of 
office  as  judges  would  be  seven  years. 
The  new  Imperial  Court  of  Appeal 
would  be  a  committee  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  the  judicial  functions  of  the 
Privy  Council  disappearing.  This 
scheme  has  the  one  great  recommenda- 
tion of  unifying  the  final  interpretation 
of  law  for  the  whole  Empire.  There 
are  other  evident  advantages  from  the 
Imperial  standpoint.  But  may  there 
not  also  be  disadvantages  ?  In  some  • 
of  its  aspects  the  matter  is  too  techni- 
cal for  discussion  by  any  but  experts, 
but   it  should   be  discussed.     Canada 




will  be  affected,  and  it  would  be  far 
from  creditable  to  us  if  we  did  not 
fully  acquaint  ourselves  with  all  that  is 
involved,  and,  if  necessary,  let  our 
voice  be  heard  before  the  measure  be- 
comes law.  We  should  ask.  Why 
make  the  House  of  Lords  the  final 
Court   instead  of  the  Privy  Council  ? 

month,  never  lapsing  into  carelessness 
and  never  weakening  in  determination. 
That  they  could,  a  few  days  before 
their  release,  outwit  and  confound  their 
besiegers  in  the  last  desperate  attack, 
shows  the  stuif  they  were  made  of.  It 
is  one  thing  to  finish,  and  another  to 
display  ot    full  powers 

The  former  is  a  committee  of  one  of  They  fought    for    honour.      The  time 

the    Houses  of  Parliament;  the  latter  had  passed  when  their  resistance  could 

embodies  "the  appellate  jurisdiction  of  have    any    appreciable    effect    on     the 

Her  Majesty  in  Council."     In  practice  course  of  the  war.      It  had  ceased  to  be 

the  distinction  may  be  of  little  import-  necessary  to  occupy  the  attention  of  a 

ance.  But  should 
we  not  carefully 
watch  anything 
that  introduces  a 
change,  even  in 
form,  from  the 
BritishCrown  as 
the  centre  of  the 

the    Hoi 


Parliament?  The 
English  Liberals 
see  objections 
from  their  point 
of  view,  and  all 
that  can  here  be 
done  is  to  state 
the  conviction 
that  this  is  a  mat- 
ter Canadians 
should  discuss. 

part  of  the  en- 
emy lest  their 
elsewhere  should 
turn  the  scale ; 
and  Mafeking 
was  never  an  im> 
portant  strategi- 
cal point,  like 
ladysmith.  The 
garrison  was 
small  and  would 
not  be  worth  any 
sacrifice  for  the 
sake  of  the  in- 
crease in  num- 
bers it  could 
bring  to  the  Bri- 
tish commander; 




comfort     would 
^    ^  have    been     far 

better  served  by 

On    May    15,         ooM  PAUL— "  HI,  THERB,  TAKE  THOSE  KMOTs     Surrender.     But 

after   seven     out  of  vour  tail,  will  vol- ? "  they   fought   or> 

months    of    as  bnoland "how  can  i?     you  tied  them      because     they 

plucky    and   re*      there  yourself."  would  not  yield. 

■  sourceful    a   de-  —Minntapelis  Tribune.  AH     honour     to 

fence    as    was  the  defenders  of 

ever  made,  Mafeking  was  relieved.  The      Mafeking  I     And  chief  honour  to  the 
story  of  Baden-Powell    and  his    men,      man    who    directed    and   enheartened 
and  how  they  kept  the  flag  of  their      them, 
country   flying   in    that   little    frontier  jt    ^ 

town,  will  be  told  while  the  world  re* 

spects  courage.     The  news  of  the  relief  What  shall  be  said  of  the  man  who 

caused  unbounded  satisfaction.  There  planned  their  relief?  Lord  Roberts- 
was  something  in  the  stand  made  by  ha.<i  proved  himself  a  commander  of 
this  little  garrison  that  appealed  more  genius.  The  relief  of  Mafeking  is  only 
strongly  to  the  imagination  than  any  one  evidence  of  the  manner  in  which 
otherevent  of  the  war.  They  continued  he  can  accomplish  results.  He  tele- 
to  watch  and  fight  and  endure,  day  graphed  Baden-Powell  some  weeks  be- 
after  day,  week  after  week,  month  after     fore  to  hold  out  until  the  18th  of  May,. 



and  on  the  17th  help  arrived.  The 
delay  at  Bloemfontein  was  fully  justi- 
fied. Vast  preparations  had  to  be 
made.  A  relief  force  could  not  get 
through  to  Mafeking  until  the  Boer 
flank  was  turned  at  Fourteen  Streams. 
Before  General  Hunter  could  accom- 
plish this,  General  Methuen  must 
threaten  the  Boer  lines  at  some  point 
near  Boshof ;  and  the  whole  operation 
depended  upon  the  main  army  of  the 
Boers  being  occupied  by  Lord  Roberts' 
advance.  This  advance,  again,  de- 
pended on  clearing  the  Boers  out  of 
the  south-eastern  part  of  the  Free 
State.  This  last  was  effected  by  the 
rapid  and  skilful  moving  of  three  divi- 
sions. The  Boers  escaped  northward, 
but  their  capture  was  evidently  not  seri- 
ously counted  on,  for  all  the  plans  had 
beeo  made  for  an  advance  which  must 
have  been  delayed  by  another  Paarde- 
berg.  On  May  i,  Lord  Roberts  was 
on  the  move.  General  Hunter  crossed 
the  Vaal  on  May  4,  and  the  relief  force 

slipped  round.  Mafeking  was,  of 
course,  not  the  chief  objective  of  Lord' 
Roberts'  strategy,  but  it  was  an  im- 
portant object  in  as  skilful  a  game  of 
war  as  ever  was  played.  On  May  12 
Lord  Roberts  entered  Kroonstad,  hav- 
ing  marched  nearly  130  miles  in  about 
12  days.  In  his  famous  march  on 
Candahar  he  covered  320  miles  in  32 
days,  and  brought  in  his  men  fresh  and 
ready  to  fight ;  but  he  had  only  10,000 
men  and  took  only  such  guns  as  could 
be  carried  on  mules'  backs,  and  had  do 
transport  waggons  and  fought  no  bat- 
tles. On  this  greater  march  he  had  a 
vast  army  and  heavy  naval  guns,  and 
he  was  resisted  wherever  opportunity 
offered.  All  national  anxiety  about 
the  war  has  disappeared.  It  is  now 
only  a  question  of  time.  With  Buller 
moving  up  on  the  right  and  Hunter 
and  Methuen  sweeping  both  banks  of 
the  Vaal  on  the  left,  any  very  serious 
resistance  to  Lord  Roberts'  march  to 
Pretoria  seems  impossible. 


T^HERE  is  reported  to  be  an  inter- 
-^  esting  discussion  now  developing 
between  London  and  Ottawa.  The 
Canadian  Government  has  had  experi- 
ence with  several  Imperial  officers  as 
commandants  of  the  Canadian  mili- 
tia, and  the  experience  has  not  been 
pleasing  to  them.  These  military  offi- 
cers are  not  always  willing  to  allow 
the  Minister  of  Militia  to  have  his  way 
with  regard  to  militia  affairs,  and  they 
enforce  a  military  discipline  at  head- 
quarters which  interferes  with  demo- 
cratic government  as  we  have  it  in 
Canada.  Under  these  circumstances, 
the  Canadian  Government,  it  is  said, 
is  anxious  to  have  a  Canadian  soldier 
as  General  Officer  Commanding.  The 
Imperial  authorities  and  the  Governor- 
General  are  apparently  willing  to  ac- 
cept Major  Dnimmond,  who  was 
formerly  secretary  to  His  Excellency, 
having  come  out  to  Canada  in  that 
character.     Major  Dnimmond  went  to 

South  Africa  in  a  special  capacity  with 
the  first  Canadian  Contingent.  The 
Canadian  Government  does  not  seem 
anxious  to  accept  this  appointment. 
There  may  be  two  reasons  for  this  : 
the  one  stated  above,  and  a  disinclina- 
tion to  accept  every  suggestion  ap- 
proved by  the  present  Governor-Gen- 
eral. Military  men  in  Canada  are 
awaiting  the  outcome  of  the  corres- 
pondence with  considerable  interest. 

The  disastrous  fire  in  the  twin  cities 
of  Hull  and  Ottawa,  which  rendered 
six  thousand  people  homeless  and  de- 
stroyed twelve  million  dollars  worth  ot 
property,  has  been  the  event  of  the 
month.  A  relief  fiind  has  been  start- 
ed, and  the  British  public  has  had  a 
chance  to  show  its  appreciation  of 
colonial  loyalty.  The  response  has 
been  most  gratifying.  Her  Majesty 
contributed  500  guineas,  and  H.R.H. 




the  Prince  of  Wales,  350  ^ineas  to 
the  Fund  started  by  the  Lord  Mayor  of 
London  at  the  suggestion  of  Mr. 
Chamberlun.  This  Mansion  House 
Fund  already  amounts  to  about  £25,- 
000.  The  London  Stock  Exchange 
Fund  amounts  to  about  ^7,000.  The 
Earl  of  Derby,  a  former  Governor- 
General,  sent  ;£i,ooo.  Lord  Aber- 
deen sent  his  sympathy.  Glasgow 
contributed  £,3,000  in  a  few  hours 
after  the  opening  of  a  fund.  Cape- 
town subscribed  the  same  amount  in 
three  days,  despite  the  demands  which 
war  is  making  on  the  purses  there. 
Premier  Seddon,  of  New  Zealand, 
cabled  a  colonial  contribution  of  825.- 
000.  The  City  of  Liverpool  sent 
;^i,ooo.  Mr.  Chamberlain  contribut- 
ed 50  guineas.  Detroit  school  child- 
ren sent  706  pennies,  and  Oswego 
collected  more  than  $1,000. 

This  partial  list  shows  that  the  Im- 
perial feeling  of  Canada  is  reciprocat- 
ed throughout  the  Empire,  and  that 
the  Anglo-Saxons  of  the  United  States 
consider  us  worthy  of  their  practical 

At  a  recent  meeting  of  the  Presby- 
terian Synod  of  Toronto  and  Kingston, 
the  committee  on  "Church  Life  and 
Work  "  inserted  in  its  report  a  para- 
graph, which    reads  as  follows  : 

The  Synod  deeplj'  deplores  the  growing: 
polilicnl  corruption  of  the  times,  and  would 
solemnly  warn  all  cur  peopli?  to  maintain  such 
a  higrh  lone  of  character  as  will  raise  them 
above  all  suspicion  of  political  corruption  ; 
and  we  would  hope  that  such  leftiilation  may 
be  enacted  and  applied  as  will  effectually  deal 
with  every  phase  of  bribery. 

This  is  a  subject  which  touches  our 
social  life  and  is  a  proper  subject  for 
the  consideration  and  comment  of  oqr 
spiritual  advisers.  The  political  meth- 
ods of  this  country  are  showing  signs 
of  a  loose  American  morality  which  are 
not  hopeful.  The  evil  of  political  cor- 
ruption is  to  be  seen  in  our  municipal, 
provincial  and  federal  politics.  It  is 
an  evil  which  arises  from  the  exer- 
cise of  democratic  government  by  a 
partially  uneducated  people.  This  lack 
of  education  is  more  than  a  lack  of  a 

thorough  school  training.  There  is  a 
lack  of  moral  education.  This  our 
ministers  and  priests  should  supply, 
and  should  supply  at  once. 

Perhaps  the  first  people  who  require 
this  education  are  the  leaders  and  man- 
agers of  the  political  parties,  the  men 
who  collect  and  distribute  party  funds. 
If  our  leading  clergymen  could  find  out 
who  these  men  are  and  endeavour  to 
have  them  engage  as  party  workers 
only  those  who  are  pledged  against 
corruption,  much  good  would  be  ac- 
complished. The  whole  blame  for  the 
evil  cannot  be  laid  upon  the  poor  man 
who  accepts  a  five-dollar  bill  or  a  ton 
of  coal  for  his  vote. 

The  bonus  system,  the  tax-exemp- 
tion system  and  the  spoils  system  are 
also  responsible  for  political  corruption. 
These  might  be  mitigated  by  a  con- 
tinued agitation  which  would  educate 
public  opinion  against  them.  These 
three  systems  are  injuring  our  national 
life.  Every  person  interested  in  good 
government  and  a  righteous  national 
life  should  denounce  them  and  work 
against  them. 

We  hear  much  of  social  reform.  We 
hear  it  discussed  in  relation  to  the 
municipal  and  national  life  of  other 
countries.  We  hear  much  of  it  in  a 
theoretical  sense.  We  should  hear 
more  of  it  in  relation  to  Canada's  na- 
tional life,  and  from  those  who  sit  in 
the  high  places  of  our  spiritual  and 
educational  institutions. 

We  are  a  peculiar  people.  For 
years  we  have  been  complaining  of  the 
alien  labour  law  of  the  United  SUtes 
which  prevents  Canadians  going  into 
the  Republic  under  contract  to  do  cer- 
tain work.  Some  time  ago,  a  Cana- 
dian who  went  into  the  United  States 
to  fill  a  position  for  which  he  had  been 
engaged,  was  turned  back  by  an  alien 
labour  law  officer.  There  was  an 
outcry  in>  Canada.  The  Government's 
attention  was  drawn  to  the  occurrence. 
The  statesmen  who  control  our  politi-  I 

cal  affairs  remarked  that  they  had  ex- 
postulated with  Washington,  because 
it  was  understood  that  during  the  ne-  j 

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gfotiations  for  a  treaty  between  the  two 
countries,  there  was  an  af^reement  that 
the  alien  labour  laws  of  both  coun- 
tries should  be  dormant.  The  other 
day  it  was  reported  that  some  smart 
Uaitedstateser  had  tried  to  steal  our 
poor,  innocent  Doukhobors,  for  whom 
we  have  done  so  much.  He  had  offer- 
ed them  work  in  California.  When 
questioned  about  this  in  the  House  the 
other  day,  our  Government,  throug^h 
the  Hon.  James  Sutherland,  stated  that 
the  Department  of  the  Interior  wrote 
the  American  agent  at  Pembina,  U.S. 
A.,  that  he  ought  to  enforce  the  laws 
of  his  country  and  send  back  these 
aliens  who  were  going'  in  under  con- 
tract. In  other  words,  the  offensive 
United  States  law  which  we  have 
damned  so  often,  is  now  our  shield  and 

The  worst  part  of  this  incident  is 
that  it  reveals  another  great  failure 
in  treaty- making.  The  Laurier  Gov- 
ernment acknowledges  that  the  nego- 
tiations with  the  United  States  to  set- 
tle the  Alaskan  boundary,  the  sealing 
dispute,  the  Fisheries  Question,  and 
all  other  international  differences  are 
broken  off.  This  is  a  fair  deduction 
from  this  alien  labour  law  incident. 
The  law  was  not  to  be  enforced  against 
us  during  the  negotiations.  Now  we 
ask  that  it  be  enforced,  showing  that 
we  acknowledge  the  negotiations  are 
ended.  It  has  thus  been  surely  prov- 
en that  the  Liberals  cannot  secure 
more  from  Washington  than  the  Con- 
servatives. The  latter  made  several 
brave  attempts  and  failed  ignominious;- 
ly.  The  former  have  made  one  great 
attempt  and  the  end  of  that  attempt  is 
not  more  glorious.  The  days  of 
"  looking  to  Washington  "  are  ended. 
What  shall  we  do  next  ? 

Our  friends  in  the  republic  have 
statesmanlike  school- children  even  if 
their  legislators  and  administrators 
cannot  be  accused  of  possessing  such 
a  virtue.  The  children  of  Philadel- 
phia and  New  York,  recognizing  that 
the  Cubans   and  Filipinos  and  Boers 

are  fighting  for  their  freedom  with  the 
hated  Anglo-Saxon  oppressor,  decided 
to  send  a  message  of  sympathy  to 
President  Kruger  at  Pretoria.  They 
signed  a  long  sheet  of  paper  with  sev- 
eral thousand  names,  hired  a  messen- 
ger boy  and  sent  him  off  amid  great 
rejoicing.  This  generous  act  shows 
what  education  is  doing  for  the  young 
in  the  United  States. 

And  Canada  is  not  behind.  The  chil- 
dren of  Windsor,  Ont. ,  are  getting  up  a 
similar  message  of  sympathy  to  be  sent 
to  Aguinaldo.  We  cannot  afford  to 
be  laggards  in  such  grand  and  noble 
work.  All  honour  to  the  children  of 
Windsor,  Ontario  !  Kruger  would  be 
a  national  hero  in  the  United  States, 
and,  therefore,  why  not  Aguinaldo  in 
Canada  ?  We  are  housing  the  Oouk- 
hobor,  the  Galician,  the  Pole,  Dr.  Bar- 
nardo's  boys,  and  all  tbe  European 
outcast  classes,  why  should  we  not 
offer  an  asylum  to  this  hero  of  a 
thousand  battles  in  the  Philippines  ? 

When  we  have  offered  Aguinaldo 
this,  the  world  will  know  that  there 
are  at  least  two  fool-nations  on  the 
North  American  continent. 

The  position  of  each  of  the  political 
parties  with  reference  to  Preferential 
Trade  has  been  more  clearly  defined 
during  the  present  session  of  the  Do- 
minion Parliament.  The  Minister  of 
Finance,  as  the  representative  of  the 
Liberal  Party,  has  announced  an  in- 
crease in  the  preference  in  favour  of 
British  goods.  The  discount  off  the 
duties  charged  on  importations  from 
Great  Britain  has  been  increased  from 
twenty-five  to  thirty-three-and -one- 
third  per  cent. 

The  Conservative  Party  do  not 
wholly  approve  of  this  generous  treat- 
ment. It  has  embodied  its  modi- 
fied approval  in  a  resolution  moved  by 
Sir  Charles  Tupper  and  worded  as 
follows : 

"  That  this  House  is  of  opinion  that  a  system 
of  mutual  trade  preference  belwecn  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland  and  the  colonies  would 
certainly  stimulate  increased  production  in 
i  between  these  counlries,  and 

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would  promote  and  maintain  Ihe  unity  of  the 
Empire,  and  that  no  measure  of  preference 
tbat  falls  short  of  the  complete  re^izatioo 
should  be  considered  as  final  or  satisfactory." 

This  resolution  was  voted  down  in 
the  House  of  Commons  on  a  strictly 
party  vote. 

The  Liberals  apparently  approve  oi 
the  preference  of  oae-third  as  a  meas- 
ure of  free-trade.  The  Conservatives, 
being  protectionists,  would  grant  the 
preference  only  upon  being  given  a  Like 
preference  in  the  British  market ;  they 
would  reduce  the  protection  in  one  di- 
rection, only  when  it  is  being  increased 
in  another.  The  Liberals  are  thus 
working  toward  their  ideal  of  free- 
trade  "as  they  have  it  in  Great  Brit- 
ain "  ;  the  Conservatives  are  maintain- 
ing their  position  as  upholders  of  a 
tariff  for  the  protection  of  native  indus- 
tries. These  are  the  positions  occupied 
by  the  respective  parties  for  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  century. 

When  the  Liberal  party  made  its 
appeal  to  the  country  in  1896,  it  was 
stated  that,  if  it  was  successful  in  being 
transferred  from  the  Opposition  to  the 
Treasury  side.  Sir  Wilfrid  Laurie r 
would  fill  his  Cabinet  with  strong  men. 
The  Uberal  party  was  successful.  Sir 
Wilfrid  kept  his  promise,  and  the  men 
of  the  Laurier  Government  are  of  more 
than  ordinary  calibre. 

The  Montreal  Star  states  that  if  Sir 
Charles  Tupper  is  called  upon  to  form 
a  government  after  the  next  general 
election,  he  will  select  men  of  unim- 
peachable character.  This  is  a  very 
necessary  statement.  Sir  Charles  Tup- 
per will  never  lead  the  Conservative 
party  to  victory  unless  he  gives  assur- 
ance that  some  of  the  members  of  the 
Cabinet  of  1895-6  are  not  to  be  recall- 
ed. There  were  at  least  three  men  in 
that  Cabinet  whom  the  Canadian  peo- 
ple will  not  tolerate.  The  sooner  Sir 
Charles  passes  his  word  that  these 
men  will  be  kept  in  the  back-ground, 
the  better  for  the  Conservative  party. 

Sir  Charles  should  beach  his  ship  at 
once,  and  have  these  barnacles  remov- 
ed from  the  keel. 

A  prominent  Conservative  remarked 
the  other  day  that  the  Conservative 
party  had  some  chance  of  winning  if  it 
were  not  for  its  two  chief  newspaper 
organs.  This  statement  is  only  par- 
tially true.  In  the  hack  townships  the 
intelligent  voter  is  not  yet  prepared 
for  fair  and  courteous  argument,  and 
there  these  organs  are  useful.  In  the 
cities,  it  is  doubtful  if  they  are  valu- 
able. The  same  accusation  might  be 
made  against  any  strenuous  advocate 
of  one  side  of  politics,  whether  an  orator 
or  a  newspaper. 

The  attitude  of  the  party  newspaper 
has  recently  found  naive  expression  in 
an  editorial  in  the  Times,  of  Green- 
wood, B.C.  Mr.  Joseph  Martin,  the 
new  Premier  of  British  Columbia,  is  a 
Liberal,  and  the  Timss  is  also  Liberal. 
There  is  a  provincial  genera]  election 
coming  on,  and  the  editor  of  the  Times 
was  undecided  as  to  the  direction  of 
the  wind.  His  experience,  as  told  by 
himself,  reads : 

"  Believing;  it  to  be  to  the  interests  of  the 
country  to  do  everything-  in  its  power  towards 
securing  Ihe  re-election  of  Sir  Wilfrid  Lau- 
rier, Ihe  Timet,  like  other  news|)apers  sup- 
porting the  Liberal  party,  was  undecided  re- 
garding the  proper  course  to  pursue.  The 
Timis  wa^  willing  to  sacrifice  its  opinions  re- 
garding the  wisdom  of  supporting  Mr.  Mar- 
tin if  such  a  course  was  considered  by  Ihe 
leaders  to  be  in  the  best  interests  of  (he 
parly.  Under  the  circumstances  we  sought 
the  advice  of  those  who  were  in  close  touch 
with  Sir  Wilfrid  Laurier,  and  they  advised  us 
that  Martin  was  not  wanted,  and  that  he 
should  be  turned  down  if  possible." 

Such  is  politics  in  Canada.  We 
have  some  thirteen  hundred  newspap- 
ers in  this  country,  and  not  more  than 
a  score  make  any  claim  to  be  independ- 
ent in  political  matters.  In  other  re- 
spects, our  press  is  worthy  of  much 
praise.  But  if  in  the  political  way,  the 
blind  shall  lead  the  blind,  shall  they 
not  both  fall  into  the  ditch  ? 

/oin  A.   Cooper. 

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THERE  is  still  a  lingering;  regret  in 
some  minds  that  Dr.  Conaa  Doyle 
should  have  killed  off  Sheriock  Holmes. 
The  death  of  that  incomparable  detec- 
tive has  deprived  them  of  the  only  per- 
sonage in  fiction  or  fact  who  could 
infer  from  the  colour  of  a  man's  eyes 
how  old  his  grandmother  was,  and  to 
whom  a  torn  piece  of  ribbon  disclosed 
the  whole  character  of  its  last  owner. 
But  Dr.  Doyle  has  not  lost  the  art  of 
telling  a  good  story,  and  he  is  able, 
without  waste  of  words  or  a  single 
faltering  sentiment,  to  crowd  into  a 
brief  tale  a  situation  strong  enough  to 
form  the  groundwork  for  a  long  novel. 
His  latest  collection  of  thirteen  stories* 
Are  devoted  chiefly  to  war  and  sport. 
They  are  impressive  and  entertaining, 
every  one  of  them,  and  the  reader  with 
a  taste  for  the  heroic  will  not  be  turn- 
ed empty  away.  In  "The  Croxley 
Master  "  we  see  once  more  the  author's 
skill  in  depicting  a  prize-fight.  "  The 
Three  Correspondents "  is  a  timely 
picture  of  "our  own  correspondent" 
on  dangerous  duty,  while  "The  Lord 
of  Chateau  Noir  "  and  "  The  Striped 
Chest"  are  ordinary  horrors  touched 
up  by  a  talented  hand.  And  there  are 
others.  Emphatically  a  man's  book. 
To  classify  Max  Pemberton's  latest 
oovelt  as  a  woman's  book,  however, 
would  hardly  be  accurate,  since  it  is  a 
love  story,  and  neither  sex  is  free  from 
a  taste  for  that  kind  of  tale.  Feo  is  a 
romantic  maiden  in  a  prosaic  age.  An 
opera-singer,  who  supports  a  selfish 
old  rascal  of  a  father,  she  is  parted  from 

•The  Green  FlaR.  By  A,  Conan  Doyle. 
Toronto  :  Morang;  k.  Co> 

tFeo.  By  Max  Pemberton.  Toronto  :  The 
Copp,  Ctark  Co. 

the  man  she  loves,  an  Austrian  prince. 
Driven  away  from  Vienna  to  London 
by  the  machinations  and  threats  of  the 
Prince's  family,  Feo  goes  to  Paris  to 
keep  an  appointment  with  her  lover. 
Her  liberty  and  safety  are  threatened, 
and  she  escapes  in  a  truly  romantic 
way  from  the  window  of  the  house  in 
which  she  is  imprisoned.  By  the  as- 
sistance of  an  Englishman  who  admires 
her,  but  who  is  willing  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  the  lovers,  she  is 
able  to  keep  the  appointment  The 
prince's  father  now  appears  on  the 
Si:ene,  and  the  girl's  sense  of  duty 
prompts  her  to  release  the  prince  from 
the  engagement.  At  some  length, 
for  the  author  seems  to  imagine  that 
the  reader  is  skeptical,  Feo  justifies 
her  resolution  to  give  up  love,  wealth, 
position,  and  a  life  of  ease.  In  what 
way  can  a  writer  of  fiction  reward  such 
noble  unselfishness  and  still  leave  the 
claims  of  romance  satisfied  ?  It  would 
be  cruel  even  to  hint,  but  it  must  be 
said  that  if  Austrian  archdukes  are  so 
unmindful  of  the  laws  of  convention- 
ality as  we  find  this  one  to  be  they  have 
been  much  maligned,  and  there  is  hope 
for  the  happiness  of  the  young  princes, 
their  sons. 

The  glamour  which  Mr.  Stanley 
Weyman  imparted  to  his  romances  of 
the  days  of  Cardinal  Richelieu  is  not  to 
be  found  in  his  English  stories,  read- 
able  as  these  are.  If  Sophia*  were  a 
maiden  of  Old  France,  it  would  require 
little  persuading  to  believe  that  the 
perils  through  which  she  passes  to  ulti- 
mate peace  and  happiness  were  real. 
But  England  in  1742  is  sufficiently 
modern,   and  connected   by  so  many 

*Sophia.  By  Stanley  J.  Weyman,  Toron- 
to !  The  Copp,  Clark  Co. 




linkswiththe  times  of  our  grandmothers 
that  the  spell  which  the  author's  art 
weaves  for  us  is  broken  as  soon  as  we 
have  turned  away  from  the  book.  But 
while  reading  the  story,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, one  is  well  pleased  with  its  vim 
and  attractiveness.  The  Lady  Betty, 
a  flirt  and  hoyden  combined,  would 
under  any  circumstances  and  in  any 
period  be  ripe  for  love-makings  with 
adventurers,  or  elopements  with  strang- 
ers. From  Sophia  one  expects  more 
staid  behaviour,  and  it  is  not  until  she 
happily  escapes  the  clutches  of  the 
villain  Hawksworth  and  falls  into  the 
chivalrous  hands  of  Sir  Hervey  Coke 
that  she  gives  evidence  of  those  noble 
qualities  that  are,  rightly  or  wrongly, 
associated  with  a  well-trained  English 
girt.  To  save  her  from  shame  and 
domestic  misery.  Sir  Hervey  offers  her 
the  protection  of  his  name  and  home, 
while  he  promises  to  remain  a  friend 
and  nothing  more.  In  her  desperation 
Sophia  accepts  these  generous  terms, 
but  soon  develops  a  fine  passion  for 
her  husband  whose  studied  coldness 
but  fans  the  flame.  In  charge  of  the 
giddy  Lady  Betty  she  journeys  from 
London  into  Sussex,  and  the  alarms 
and  dangers  of  the  road,  from  which 
even  two  trustworthy  men-servants 
fail  to  protect  her,  furnish  a  lively  nar- 
rative when  told  by  so  experienced  a 
writer  as  Mr,  Weyman,  to  whom  fero- 
cious robbers  and  distressed  damsels 
are  but  pawns  in  a  game.  We  miss 
the  political  interest  of  "  Shrewsbury," 
but  the  novel  shows  better  work  than 
"The  Castle  Inn,"  and  ends  with  some 
pretty  scenes  between  the  scapegrace 
Sir  Tom  and  Lady  Betty.  These  are, 
in  some  respects,  the  most  entertain- 
ing pages  in  the  book. 

The  first  volume  of  Mr.  Lang's  new 
work*  might  appropriately  be  named 
a  History  of  the  People  of  Scotland. 
From  the  earliest  periods,  when 
documentary  evidence  is  fragmentary 

and  where  it  exists  is  obscure  and 
faulty,  the  author  evidently  tries  to  re- 
create for  the  modern  eye  the  condi- 
tions that  prevailed  in  Scotland,  and 
pictures  with  the  skill  of  which  he  is  a 
master,  the  social  as  well  as  the  politi- 
cal state  of  the  nation.  This  is,  when 
all  is  said,  a  charming  book,  and  its 
literary  merits  blind  one  to  the  defects 
that  will  no  doubt  be  pointed  out  by 
competent  judges.  The  author  is 
learned  and  conscientious,  and  he  writes 
with  such  evident  enjoyment  of  his 
theme,  with  such  a  wealth  of  informa- 
tion, of  tireless  and  seldom  tiresome 
research,  and  of  such  poetic  strength, 
that  the  reader  is  carried  along  by  the 
sheer  force  of  attraction.  The  history 
is  brought  down  to  the  childhood  of 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots  and  the  murder 
of  Cardinal  Beaton,  and  the  author,  in 
championing  his  own  country  against 
the  long  aggressions  and  usurpations 
of  the  English,  is  at  all  times  a  candid 
and  even  cynicalcritic  of  Scottish  kings, 
clergy  and  nobles.  He  deems  it  neces- 
sary to  explain  that  he  has  no  animus 
against  Knox  or  the  early  Refcrmers, 
which,  indeed,  any  enlightened  intelli- 
gence will  admit,  although  we  think 
he  might  have  treated  with  less  serious- 
ness the  brilliant  theories  of  Froude, 
who  ruthlessly  sacrificed  Scotland,  as 
he  did  everyone  and  everything  else, 
in  order  to  make  out  Henry  VIII.  a 
great  king  and  a  valiant  statesman. 
Mr.  Lang  draws  upon  his  knowledge 
in  a  very  delightful  manner,  and  the 
narrative  is  full  of  little  touches  which 
a  literary  artist  alone  knows  how  to 
employ.  At  the  close  of  a  graphic 
description  of  Bannockbum,  for  in- 
stance, it  is  related  :  "  Edward  reach- 
ed Dunbar,  whence  betook  boat  for 
Berwick.  In  his  terror  he  vowed  to 
build  a  college  of  Carmelites,  students 
in  theology.  It  is  Oriel  College  to- 
day, with  a  Scot  for  Provost."  To 
the  book  every  student  of  Scottish 
history  will  turn  with  enjoyment. 
Max  O'Retl,  in  speaking  of  Sydney 
Smith's  charge  that  it  took  a  surgical 

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operation  to  g^et  a  joke  into  a  Scotch- 
man's head,  remarked  that  this  might 
be  true  of  an  English  joke.  But  Eng- 
lish humour  is  not  so  devoid  of  pene- 
trating qualities  as  that.  In  Jerome 
K.  Jerome's  new  book*  there  is  abund- 
ance of  wholesome  mirth,  never  rollick- 
ing, it  must  be  confessed,  seldom  start- 
ling you  into  a  loud  laugh,  but  at  the 
same  time  pure,  natural  fun.  There 
may  be  something  In  the  occasional 
feeling  of  the  reader  that  there  should 
be  more  "  go  "  in  the  book.  Like  Sir 
Fretful  Plagiary's  new  play,  it  certainly 
lacks  incident.  Two  married  men, 
accompanied  by  a  bachelor  friend,  de- 
termine to  take  a  holiday  on  the  con- 
tinent. They  wish  to  leave  their  wives 
behind,  and  their  wives,  as  it  turns  out, 
are  willing  to  be  left  behind.  The 
subsequent  adventures  of  the  party  are 
described  with  a  great  deal  of  drollery. 
The  comments  of  the  Englishman  on 
German  institutions  and  people  are  at 
times  better  than  being  merely  funny  : 
they  show  a  shrewd  knowledge  of  the 
distinguishing  characteristics  of  two 
nations  springing  mainly  from  the  same 
parent  stock  but  divided  in  the  course 
of  centuries  by  so  many  different  in- 
fluences. If  English  humour,  as  re- 
flected in  the  pages  of  Jerome  K. 
Jerome,  ever  seems  a  trifle  wearisome 
to  readers  on  this  continent,  this  is 
probably  due  to  the  effect  of  the  hid- 
eous and  grotesque  exaggerations 
which  pass  for  humour  here  and  soon 
vitiate  a  healthy  taste. 

There  is  an  injurious  habit,  to  which 
Canada  and  other  new  countries  are 
prone,  of  rushing  at  complex  problems 
relating  to  industrial  and  political  life 
and  trying  to  solve  them  off-hand. 
There  is  the  railway  question,  for  ex- 
ample, about  which  some  newspapers 
clamour  and  some  politicians  protest. 
In  a  series  of  text  books  on  economic 
issues  of  the  present  day,  Mr.  Hend- 
rick  has  written  a  well-balanced  and 

■Three  Men  on  Wheels.  By  Jerome  K. 
Jerome.  London  ;  Fiaher  Unwin.  Toronto  : 
The  Copp,  Clark  Co. 

excellently  condensed  manual^upon  the 
systems  of  railway  control  now  in 
vogue  in  the  principal  countries  of  the 
world.  No  mention  is  made  of  Cana- 
da, probably  because  no  information  is 
easily  got  at  by  the  foreign  student  re- 
lating to  the  governing  of  our  railways. 
The  only  writer  in  Canada  who  seems 
to  have  bestowed  time  and  labour  upon 
the  study  of  our  railway  conditions  is 
Mr.  J.  S.  Willison,  the  editor  of  the 
Globet  whose  writings  on  the  subject 
are  not  easily  accessible.  He  has  pre- 
pared more  than  one  able,paper  upon 
the  question.  In  Mr.  Hendrick's  pages 
we  learn  much  that  even  persons  ignor- 
ant of  the  whole  railway  problem  would 
naturally  suspect :  that  railways  came 
suddenly  into  our  civilization  in  the 
early  years  of  the  present  century,  that 
control  by  the  state  was  never  reduced 
to  a  science,  that  each  country  has  been 
earning  its  own  experience  without  the 
production  of  any  definite  principles 
upon  which  we  may  settle  as  a  basis. 
As  a  brief  compendium  of  facts  this 
little  volume  is,  therefore,  of  value. 
It  touches  upon  a  question  only  next 
in  importance  to  that  of  our  system  of 
government  and,  whatever  disappoint- 
ed  critics  may  say  about  the  press  or 
the  politicians  in  their  relations  to  rail- 
ways, the  matter  is  one  which  the  peo- 
ple can  settle  for  themselves  with  little 
difRculty.  Let  them  learn  first  the  ele- 
mentary facts  of  the  case  in  such  books 
as  this. 

Those  who  are  interested  in  the  sub- 
ject of  Russian  literature  will  find 
material  for  reflection  in  a  volume 
written  for  a  series  of  short  histories 
of  literatures  of  the  world.  It  is  a  con- 
venient record  of  what,  to  the  majority 
of  Canadian  readers,  is  comparatively 
unknown  ground.  The  author,  K. 
Waliszewski,  relates  with  some  skillf 
the  development  of  Russian  intellectu- 
alism.       He  is,  no  doubt,  a  profound 

•  Railway  Control  by  CDnunissions.  By 
Frank  Hendrick.     New  York  :  Putnam's. 

I-A  History  of  Russian  Lileraliire.  By  K. 
WaliRzewskt.     London  :  Heinemann. 

Digitized  b,G00gle 


believer  in  the  greatness  of  his  native 
country  and  from  the  safe  distance  of 
Paris  is  able  to  write  with  considerable 
freedom  of  the  direct  relation  between 
Russia's  rule  and  the  product  of  her 
literary  workers.  It  is  useful  to  know 
the  exact  results — from  a  Russian's 
standpoint — of  the  policies  of  Catherine 
II.,  of  Peter  the  Great,  of  Nicholas 
and  Alexander  in  encouraging  or  re- 
pressing literary  talent.  To  be  told, 
briefly,  but  with  sufficient  clearness,  of 
the  work  of  Pouchkin,  Gogol,  Bielln- 
ski,  Tourgueniev,  Tolstoi  (these,  no 
doubt,  are  the  correct  if  not  always  the 
conventional  spellings),  and  others,  is 
an  introduction  at  any  rate  to  the  whole 
subject.  A  chapter  on  contemporary 
writers,  and  the  circumstances  under 
which  they  are  permitted  to  pursue 
their  labours,  is  aJso  of  much  present 
interest.  But  it  ts  impossible  in  a  para- 
graph or  two  to  offer  anything  like  an 
adequate  opinion  upon  a  national  liter- 
ature as  bold,  strenuous,  and  original 
as  the  Russian.  The  attraction  which 
some  Russian  writers  possess  for  Eng- 
lish readers  is  probably  stimulated  by 
curiosity,  by  vigour  of  thought  and 
style,  and  by  the  fact  that  the  Russian 
intellect,  awakened  to  the  possibilities 
of  life  by  the  spread  of  modem  civiliza- 
tion, turns  naturally  to  human  prob- 
lems— to  the  truth  of  religion,  to  the 
errors  of  creed,  to  sex  relations,  in 
fact,  to  the  very  questions  that  engross 
thinkers  everywhere,  no  matter  what 
the  stage  of  social  progress  may  be. 
That  the  note  of  tragedy  is  prominent 
vix%^eiXs  that  the  literary  men  touch  at 
many  points  the  deep  disappointments 
that  Russian  rule  entails.  If  the  masses 
are  happy  under  despotism,  their  lives 
do  not  inspire  the  writers,  and  they 
themselves  do  not  read  others,  do  not 
produce  their  own  poets  and  chroniclers 
to  sing  or  record  the  "simple  annals 
of  the  poor."  If  English  readers  are 
dissatisfied  with  the  restraints  which 
conventionality  and  the  law  impose  on 
their  own  writers,  they  will  dip  into 
foreign  writers  who  propound  with 
more  startling  directness  those  new 
ideas  which  threaten  to  revolutionize 
so  many  accepted   notions,  and   who 

depict  with  freedom  what  to  some 
minds  are  the  grosser  aspects  of  life. 
There  are,  however,  higher  qualities  in 
Russian  literature  which  give  it  a  place, 
and  by  these,  it  is  charitable  to  sup- 
pose, modern  taste  is  attracted.  It 
was  in  1S34  that  Bielinski,  the  Rus- 
sian critic,  applied  to  the  existing  situa- 
tion this  severe  judgment:  "Do  we 
possess  a  literature  ?  No,  we  have 
nothing  but  a  book  trade."  It  would 
not  be  true  to-day,  but  one  infers  from 
M.  Waliszewski  that  the  outlook  is  not 
very  promising.  That  might,  at  the 
moment,  be  said  of  other  countries  be- 
sides Russia. 

If,  i 


press,  the  blue  books  and 

I  the 

the  politicians  say,  this  country  teems 
with  mineral  wealth,  the  young  Cana- 
dian on  the  lookout  for  a  "  future  " — 
and  apt  to  look  for  it  in  the  United 
States — will  find  a  fine  chance  for  him 
at  home.  Major  Hamilton  Merritt. 
now  serving  the  Empire  gallantly  la 
South  Africa,  points  a  way.  In  short, 
he  presses  the  button  and  you  are  ex- 
pected to  do  the  rest.  He  has,  in  a 
manual  just  published,*  told  us  how 
every  man  may  be  his  own  prospector 
and  mine-owner.  It  would  appear — 
— to  the  mere  literary  critic — that  all 
you  have  to  do  is  to  slip  into  a  proper 
outfit,  put  a  sufficient  sum  of  money 
and  this  manual  in  your  pocket,  and  in 
a  reasonable  period  of  time  bloom  out 
into  a  capitalist.  The  author,  recol- 
lect, does  not  say  this.  It  is  deduced, 
legitimately,  from  the  pages  of  as 
practical  and  useful  a  little  work  as  we 
have  seen  for  a  long  time.  All  the 
operations  required  for  testing  gold 
and  silver  ores  in  the  field,  and  which, 
to  a  city  youth  not  tr^ned  to  the 
science,  seem  as  mysterious  as  milking 
a  cow,  are  described  tersely,  dearly 
and  from  actual  experience  by  this  sol- 
dier, who  is  also  a  distinguished  min- 
ing engineer.  The  book  is  very  valu- 
able in  the  present  stage  of  mineral 

•Field  Testing  for  Gold  and  Silver.  By  W. 
Hamilton  Merrill,  F.G.S.  London  :  Crosby, 
Lockwood  &  Son. 

Digitized  byGoOglC 


development  in  Canada,  and  will  be 
appreciated  accordingly  by  prospectors 
and  miners,  and  by  men  who  would 
like  to  be  both. 

It  was  expected  that  the  Minister  of 
Justice  would  write  a  thoughtful  and 
trustworthy  work  on  the  British  spheres 
of  influence  in  Africa.  He  has  done 
more ;  he  has  produced  a  narrative  so 
clear  and  teUing,  so  exhaustive  without 
at  all  overburdening  it  with  detail,  that 
one  is  warranted  in  calling  his  new 
book*  a  fascinating  one.  Mr.  Mills  is 
in  sympathy  with  his  subject.  His 
historical  reviews  of  earlier  events  have 
all  the  charm  of  rapid,  easy  narrative, 
and  there  is  at  every  point  the  firm 
touch  of  the  man  who  knows  his  mind 
and  expresses  it  with  confidence.  It 
is,  he  says,  chiefly  to  the  diplomatic 
view  of  British  advances  in  Africa  that 
he  has  turned  his  attention,  and  his  aim 
has  been  "to  enlist  the  opinion  of  my 
countrymen  on  the  side  of  the  Parent 
State,  which  is  the  side  of  justice  and 
enlightened  progress."  The  task  is 
excellently  done.  His  long  and  care- 
ful analysis  of  the  British-Boer  con- 
troversy is  emphatically  one  of  the  best 
pieces  of  writing  in  the  voluminous 
literature  of  this  subject.  It  will  open 
the  eyes  of  many  a  Canadian  who  has 
been  treading  the  mazes  of  intermin- 
able newspaper  articles  and  the  mis- 
leading tracts  of  special  pleaders.  The 
progress  of  British  influence  in  Egypt, 
in  East  Africa  and  Rhodesia,  on  the 
West  Coast  and  at  the  Cape  is  traced 
with  an  impardal  air  at  once  convincing 
and  attractive.  There  has  been  a 
Struggle  between  England,  France  and 
Germany  for  paramountcy  in  Africa. 
By  British  statesmen  errors  have  been 
made,  andthey  have  several  times  been 
distinctly  outwitted.  Mr.  Mills  shows 
how  and  where  with  precision.  If 
British  policy  involves — as  some  timid 
souU  fear — a  kind  of  over-lordship  of 
the  world,  we  do  not  find  that  in  Africa 
our  policy  has  been  pushed  forward 
with  the  craft  and  arrogance  our 
enemies  attribute  to  us.      In  truth,  no 

better  vindication  could  be  found  of  the 
general  fairness  of  the  British  course 
than  in  this  story  of  the  intermittent, 
often  hap-hazard,  way  in  which  the  flag 
has  been  hoisted  over  territories  that 
are,  from  every  point  of  view,  the  bet- 
ter for  its  being  there.  We  trust  that 
the  Minister  of  Justice  will  be  repaid 
for  the  research  and  intelligence  that 
are  displayed  in  these  pages,  and  that 
his  book  will  be  read  extensively  in 


A  volume  on  the  Protestant  Reforma- 
tion in  England  is  never  without  claims 
upon  the  reader,*  and  Mr.  Innes  makes 
Cranmer  the  leading  figure  of  his  ac- 
count of  the  movement.  Not  that  the 
martyr-bishop  was  either  the  impulse 
of  or  the  controlling  mind  in  the  Re- 
formation, but  he  presided  over  the  des- 
tinies of  the  Church  of  England  when 
its  ritual  and  doctrines  were  crystalliz- 
ed into  very  much  the  shapes  they  re- 
tain to-day,  and  his  name  is  insepara- 
ble  from  the  final  victory  of  Protestant- 
ism in  England.  Cranmer,  popular 
enough  with  the  masses  of  the  people 
in  later  days  as  the  visible  symbol  of 
the  national  independence  in  religion, 
has  been  severely  judged  by  Puritan, 
by  Roman  Catholic  and  by  the  High 
Church  Anglican.  Mr.  Innes  is  by  no 
means  an  apologist,  and  extenuates 
nothing  in  the  wavering  and  indecision 
which  appear  to  have  marred  the  char- 
acter of  an  otherwise  able  and  disinter- 
ested reformer.  He  went  too  far  for 
one  party,  not  far  enough  for  another, 
and  he  lived  in  times  too  cruel  to  be 
spared.  The  author  also  speaks  with 
some  moderation  of  the  Reformation  in 
England,  and  is  not  an  out-and-out 
eulogist  of  all  that  was  done  in  the 
name  of  that  movement.  He  admits 
that  in  the  absence  of  the  report  drawn 
up  by  Henry  VIlI's  commissioners  we 
cannot  be  positive  of  the  internal  con- 
dition of  the  monasteries,  although 
there  is  no  mistaking  on  which  side 
Mr.  Innes  is  ranged. 

*  Cranmer  and  the  Reformation  in  Eng- 
land. By  Arthur  D.  Innei,  M.A.  Toronto  i 
Publishers'  Syndicate. 




HE  was  waiting'  od  the  main  line 
platform  of  King's  Cross  for  the 
next  train  to  the  North.  He  was  a  hand- 
,  some  fellow,  fair  in  colouringf,  brown 
with  exposure.  Ashepacedupanddown 
he  was  suddenly  conscious  of  the  steady 
and  questioning  regard  of  a.  pair  of 
blue  eyes,  which  looked  shyly  out  from 
under  long  lashes,  and  did  not  turn 
away  as  they  met  his  responsive  glance. 
He  dropped  down  on  the  seat  beside 
his  traps,  the  girl  passed  in  front  of 
him,  turned,  passed  again,  paused 
irresolutely,  then  stopped,  and  as  he 
rose  to  his  feet  asked  in  a  soft,  sym- 
pathetic voice  : 

"  Are  you  Mr.  Brown  ?  " 

"  1  am." 

"Mr.  John  Brown?" 

"  Commonly  called  Jack — 1  am," 

"  I'm  Lizzie,"  said  the  girl  simply, 
and  to  his  delighted  amazement  she 
raised  herself  on  tiptoe,  and,  lifting 
her  face,  kissed  him  with  a  sweet  frank- 
ness that  took  away  his  breath. 

"You  didn't  know  me,"  she  assert- 
ed, smiling  and  blushing;  then  adding, 
"  Tom  told  me  I  was  to  be  sure  to — 
to  do  it,  you  know." 

"  I'm  most  thankful  to  Tom,  I'm 

"  He  said  it  would  make  you  feel 
more  at  home,  you  know,  not  so 
strange  with  me.  Do  you  feel  strange 
with  me  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  now,  thank  you.  How 
did  you  know  me  ?  "  asked  the  young 
man,  as  they  sat  down  and  he  had  a 
chance  to  study  a  young  and  very 
pretty  face. 

Lizzie  smiled  as  she  indicated  the 
bag  on  the  seat  before  them,  clearly 
marked  J.B.,  which  letters  were  re- 
peated on  the  dress-suit  case. 

"  I  thought  it  was  you  because  you 
seemed  to  be  waiting  for  someone,  and 
you    were   so   impatient,   and  when   1 

saw  the  letters  on  the  bag  I  was  sure." 

"Ah,  yes — I  see.  How  long  have 
you  been  here?" 

"  I  must  have  come  a  little  while  be- 
fore you  did,  1  suppose,  and  I  waited 
in  the  ladies'  room  until  I  thought 
your  train  was  in.  I  didn't  know  you 
at  first,  the  photograph  isn't  good." 

"  Indeed,  that's  strange.  You  real- 
ly don't  think  it  good  ?  " 

"Oh,  no,"  with  a  deep  breath. 
"  When  did  you  shave  ?  " 

"  I  ?     This  morning,  of  course," 

"  I  mean,  when  did  you  shave  off 
your  beard?" 

"My —  Oh,  yes,  my  beard  I  When 
was  it,  now  P  It  must  have  been  some 
time  ago. " 

"  You  should  have  told  Tom.  I 
might  have  made  a  mistake." 

"Well,  you  see,  I  didn't  think  of 
that.  Of  course,  I  should  have  told 
him.  What  is  the  not-good  photograph 
like  ?  " 

"Don't  you  remember?  You  sent 
two — the  group  and  the  other." 

"  I  didn't  remember  sending  the 
.group.      Which  photograph  was  it?" 

"The  one  you  had  taken  in  Dun- 

"  Oh,  that  accounts  for  its  not  being 
good.  I  never  had  a  good  picture 
taken  in  Dundee.  But  what  did  you 
expect  me  to  look  like?  How  am  I 

' '  You  are  younger  and  taller,  and — 
thinner,  and—"  She  was  now  study- 
ing his  face  as  closely  as  he  had  studi- 
ed hers,  but  more  innocently. 

"And?"  he  repeated  softly,  bend- 
tng  down  to  her. 

"  Less  like  the  dad,  and— Oh,  dif- 
ferent altogether  !  " 

"  Worse  altogether  ?  " 

"N — no,  better  altogether,"  blush- 
ing, but  laughing  frankly  and  sweetly. 
Then,  as  the  silence  grew  strangely 
long,  and  the  bold,  handsome  eyes  still 
dwelt  on  hers,   "Tom  said  we'd   have 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


to  wait  an  hour  or  two  for  the  train." 

"  So  long  as  that  ?  "  J^k  BrowD  re- 
sponded, giving  himself  an  inward 
shake.  "I'm  afraid  you'll  be  very 
tired.  Shall  we  walk  up  and  down  the 
platform  a  bit  ?  And  tell  me  about 

The  girl  looked  away,  a  sudden  sha- 
dow in  her  eyes.  He  noticed  her  he^ta- 

"Tom.  Well — never  mind  him;  I 
think  I'll  prefer — Lizzie !  " 

She  laughed  a  little  sadly,  but  shook 
her  head.  "  Not  after  you  know  me  ; 
and  I'm  afraid  you'll  be  as  disappoint- 
ed as  Tom  is  when  you  realize  that  1 
really  cannot  learn  one  thing  about 

' '  Why  should  1  be  disappointed  ?  " 

"You  all  love  it  so." 

' '  Not  I  ;  I  don't  care  a  rap  for  music 
— and  know  less  than  I  care." 

"You  !" — blue  eyes  full  of  surprise 
were  raised  to  his— "  I  thought  you 
had  the  best  voice  in  the  family." 

"  Is  that  saying  much  ?  " 

"  Sigaor  Marelli  wanted  Tom  to  go 
on  the  operatic  stage,"  said  Lizzie, 
gravely,  "  and  your  voice " 

"  Rubbish  I  1  have  better  use  for 
nny  voice  than  singing.  I  much  prefer 
talking  and — making — " 

"  Have  you  keard  from  home  late- 
ly P  "  asked,  Lizzie,  with  sudden  haste. 

"Home?  N— no,  1  don't  believe 
you  would  call  it  lately.  Have 
you  ?  " 

"  Tom  had  a  letter  written  the  day 
after  you  sailed." 

"Sailed?  Oh,  yes,  after  1  sailed. 
They  were  well  ?  " 

"  Yes,  thank  you.  Dad  said  the 
mother  was  a  little  blue,  of  course,  but 
be  was  reading  Shakespeare  to  her 
^hile  she  was  knitting  socks  for  all  of 

Jack  looked  ahead  of  him  with  a 
curious  smile,  wondering  how  the  gov- 
ernor would  read  Shakespeare,  and 
what  sort  of  stockings  his  gay,  hand- 
some, frivolous  mother  would  knit — 
especially  if  made  to  do  them  in  the 
company  of  her  husband.  Who  could 
this  little  creature  be,  with  eyes  like 
stars,     high  -  held      head,     beautifully 

shaped  feet — where  did  she  live? 
What  relation  was  this  fellow  Tom? 
What  was  his  place  in  the  mind  of  this 
pretty  girl,  walking  demurely  by  his 
side,  whose  soft  kiss  still  burned  where 
she  had  left  it,  whose  liquid  tones 
touched  new  chords  in  his  at  that  mo- 
ment empty  heart  ? 

As  her  shyness  wore  off,  Lizzie  prat- 
tled on  very  charmingly,  telling  her 
artless  story  most  unconsciously.  He 
had  soon  learned  that  she  hated  her 
lonely  home,  which  was  fifteen  mites 
from  anywhere — that  the  business  was 
a  most  alarming  and  unpleasant  one — 
that  he  whom  she  ventured,  with  a 
swift  upward  glance,  to  call  John,  and 
at  his  hasty  entreaty,  Jack,  though  she 
assured  him  that  she  had  supposed  he 
bated  the  latter  name,  was  to  live  in 
the  same  house  with  her.  All  the 
trains  seemed  to  be  late,  and  at  last 
Lizzie  was  persuaded  to  take  lunch. 
Jack  noticed  that,  although  the  gloves 
she  drew  off  were  cotton,  the  hands 
were  small  and  delicate,  the  wrists 
beautifully  turned. 

Time  passed  unheeded,  as  he  quoted 
poetry  and  the  "Dolly  Dialogues," 
told  her  of  new  pictures  and  old  books, 
watching  her  pretty  colour  come  and 
go  as  he  played  upon  her  imagination 
with  light  and  skilful  hand,  and  drew 
her  out  on  all  subjects  but  Tom.  They 
still  sat  at  the  table,  the  sunlight  from 
above  falling  on  Lizzie's  bare  head, 
and  turning  her  dark  hair  to  gold, 
when  Jack  Brown  noticed  that  a  short, 
heavy  man  who  had  been  walking  up 
and  down  the  room  for  some  time,  had 
come  closer  to  their  table,  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  girl  who  was  studying  the 
light  through  a  red  wine  glass  she 
held  up  as  she  listened  and  laughed. 

Suddenly,  as  the  man  stopped  be- 
fore them,  she  turned  a  careless  glance 
on  him,  and,  the  colour  leaving  her 
face,  sprang  up  with  nervously  clasped 

"Are you  Mrs.  Brown.  Mrs.  Tom 
Brown  "  ?  asked  a  cold,  stem,  distinctly 
dour  Scotch  voice,  and  a  pair  of 
equally  cold,  pale  blue  eyes  fixed  them- 
selves relentlessly  upon  the  terrified 
young  face. 




Uzzie  caught  at  the  table,  gave 
one  bewildered,  reproachful,  appealing 
glance  at  her  companion,  and  then 
faltered  a  "Yes,"  unseasoned  by  the 
kiss  which  Tom  had  commanded. 

"  I  am  John  Brown,  your  brother- 
in-law,  .  I  have  been  looking  for  you 
for  half-an-hour.  Tom  wrote  that  yqu 
would  be  watching  for  me  when  my 
train  came  in.     This  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Your  namesake,  Mr.  Brown.  I 
hope  that  we  may  fiad  ourselves  of  kin. 
Your  sister-in-law  has  been  waiting 
for  you  tor  some  time,  and  I  have 
taken  advantage "-  -the  words  oace 
spoken,  he  would  fain  have  recalled 
them — "  of  our  common  name  to  look 
after  her  while  she  was  waiting."  Jack 
spoke  with  quick  courtesy,  but  there 
was  no  response ;  the  gloomy  eyes, 
after  one  disapproving  stare,  returned 
to  fix  themselves,  with  still  more  of 
disapproval,  on  Mrs.  Tom  Brown's 
guilty,  blushing  face. 

"  You  had  best  be  gathering  your- 
self  together,  Lizzy,  to  be  ready  for 
the  train;  you  will  need  the  gentleman 
no  more." 

With  trembling  fingers  Lizzie  pinned 
her  hat  in  place,  took  up  the  little  cot- 
ton gloves  and  followed  her  new-found 
relative  out  of  the  room.  An  entering 
crowd  separated  them,  and  Jack  sprang 

"  IJzzie,"  he  whispered,  catching 
her  arm  and  drawing  her  to  him  ; 
then,  as  she  turned  her  reproachful 
eyes  upon  him,  he  answered  unsp>oken 
words,  "No,  I'm  not  sorry — not  a 
bit !  What  do  you  Uke  me  for  ?  Do 
you  think  that  I  would  be  without  it 
for  the  world?  One  more,  little  girl, 
just  one— for  myself,  now — not  for  a 
mistake.  Quick,  child,  i  tell  you  I 
will  have  it." 

She  shook  her  head  feebly,  but  let 
him  draw  her  very  close,  till  the  sound 
of  a  voice  made  her  shiver. 

"  Are  you  afraid  ?  "  he  asked,  eager- 
ly ;  "  is  the  other  a  brute,  too  ?  Come 
with  me,  my  little  darling;  say  the 
word  and  I'll  kick  that  fellow  into — " 

"  Your  train,  Lizzie,"  s^d  the  inex- 
orable  voice.  And  her  little  romance 
was  over." — Up  to  Date. 


TO  illustrate  the  feeling  of  Ireland 
toward  the  predominant  partner,  ai> 
actor  who  has  lately  been  touring  tells 
the  story  of  an  old  waiter  in  a  Dublin 
hotel.  "When  are  you  going  to  get 
Home  Rule  in  Ireland,  John  ?  "  was  the 
question.  "  See  ye  here,  sorr,"  said 
the  old  man,  "  the  only  way  we'll  get 
Home  Rule  for  ould  Ireland  will  be  if 
France — an'  Russia — an'  Germany — 
an'  Austria — an'  maybe  Italy— if  they 
would  all  join  together  to  ^ve  those 
btaygiards  of  English  a  rare  good  hid- 
ing. That's  the  only  way  we'll  get 
Home  Rule,  aonyway."  Then,  as  he 
looked  cautiously  round,  a  twinkle  of 
cunning  and  a  smile  of  courtesy  were 
added  to  his  expression.  "And  the 
whole  lot  of  'em  shoved  together 
-couldn't  do  it,  he  said."  '^Oh— it's  the 
grand  Navy  we've  got ! " — London 


OMEN  are  creatures  of  the  emo- 
tions.    They  love   the    tear  of 
sensibility,   and  they'll  have  it,  if  they 
have  to  marry  a  beggar  to  get  it. 

The  woman  who  refuses  to  marry  a 
man  because  he's  poor,  has  found  a 
good  excuse  to  give  herself  for  keeping 
away  from  one  she  does  not  love. 

Men  put  women  on  a  pedestal,  but 
they  set  the  pedestal  io  the  mud. 

The  man  who  fears  to  ask  a  woman 
to  share  his  honest  poverty  insults  the 
woman  he  loves,  and  dishonours  him- 

A  man  has  everything  to  lose  in 

A  woman  has  everything  to  gain. 

A  woman's  friends  hear  of  her  mar- 
riage with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

A  man's  friends  learn  of  his  wedding- 
with  a  gasp  of  incredulity. — Sxchange. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


An  Ale  free  from 

the  faults  of  Lager 

and  heavier  brands 

and  having  the 

virtues  of  a  pure 


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Bro&clway  aod  Eleveiith  St. 

(OppMlte  Gtacc  Charcfi) 


Conducted  on  European  Plan 
at  moderate  rates. 

Centrally  located  and  most 
convenient  to  amusement  and 
business  districts. 

Of  easy  access  from  depots 
and  ferries  by  Broadway  cars 
direct,  or  by  transfer. 




Electrical  Apparatus 


Light  and  Power. 


Wedding  Calces 

are  unequalled  for  fine 
quality  and  artistic  decora- 
tion. They  are  shipped  by 
express  to  all  parts  of  the 
Dominion — safe  arrival 


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Used  Daily 
Gives  Health." 


The  best  Spray  for 
trees    is    a   solution 


If  interested  write  us 
for   particLiI;irs. 




The  Great  Stores 
The  Great  West 

Complele  Oullil^i  supplied  Tor 




'Winnipeg,  Manitoba. 



Walter  Baker  &  Go.  Ltd. 


BrwlMii  tnd  63d  St,  |I.T.  Otf. 


>f  Lhc  Amu»nicnl  and  Khopping  sntrc 



c  for  our  tkwk,  "The  Hmpn  iiluittateii." 

W.  JOHNSON  QUINN,  PraprtotM-. 


■%!  r^ 

A  CANADIAN  STQI^^-^yW-  A.  Frase 

THR,Cji)SBioej  »i£S> 

CAN     I 

jaLY,  1900. 



RDiHPDV  ANn  roppiIPTION.— Bv  Professor  E.  W.  Huntin};fo 




Distinguished  everywhere  far  Delicacy 
of  Flavour,  Superior  Quality,  and 
hi|^ly  Nutritive  Properties.  Specially 
grateful  and  comforting  to  the  ner- 
vous and  dyspeptic.  Sold  only  In 
i-lb.  tins,  labelled  JAMES  EPPS  & 
CO.,  Ltd.,  HomoBopathio  Chemists, 
London,  Eng., 





Piwrrn.  Nouruhea,  KatDrea,  ud  BariiAca  tlu  Hnr 
Dion  effsctuaUr  tbui  any  otbxt  prcpmtion.  Pfcmta 
Boldneuand  &:urG  and  uaboHitd  in  a  GoUn  Colsnr 
fo   Fair  or  Gitf  Hair. 


•,  and  RouKlia 
E  Cornptexioa  t 



Ounn.  and  Swentcu  tbr  Breath.   SoU  b*  Stow,  ChiM 
iibi,  and  A.  ROWLAND  ft  SONS,  Hatloa  Oudv. 


Horsford's  Acid  Phosphate 

The  most  efficient  remedy 
known  for  the  relief  of  languor 
and  exhaustion,  so  common  in 
the  spring  and  summer  months. 

Taken  after  exhaustive  illness 
it  acts  as  a  wholesome  tonic, 
giving  renewed  strength  and 
vigor  to  the  entire  system. 

Takra  before  retliinzt  quIetA  the 
■vrvM  and  Induce!  refreshing  slee|i. 




If  you. seek  health 
on  your  sununer 
trip,  see  that 
Calling's  Ale  is 
your  beverage.    lu 
purity  and  age 
make  it  a  tonk 
of  especial  valtie. 
It  sharpens  the 
appetite  and  aids 



T^s^-^               London        M 


TMB  HUNTBN,  mwe  e 

Digitized  b,  Google 

Digitized  b,  Google 

r  JUL    8  180°  ; 

CANADIAN  Magazine 

VOL.  XV  JULY,   1900  No.  3 


By  Franklin  Gadsi^,  Press  Gallery,   Ottatoa. 

IT  was  about  half-past  ten  of  the 
morning  of  April  26ch  that  a  lamp 
upset  in  Antolne  Kirouac's  humble 
tinder-box  dwelling  over  in  Hull. 

There  was  a  big  gale  blowing  from 
the     northeast,    and    Antoine's    house 
was  in  the  midst  of  hundreds  of  others 
similarly     inflammable.         At     eleven 
o'clock  fifty  dwellings  had  gone  up  in 
smoke,   and  the  flames  were  striding 
forward  with  Gargantuan  paces.     The 
gentlemen  who  write  about  the  Parlia- 
ment at  Ottawa  sat  in  their  cosy  room 
in  the   House  of  Commons,  and  won- 
dered nonchalantly  whether  they  ought 
to   send  anything  to 
their    newspapers 
about  it.      Was  it  an 
ordinary  Hull  fire,  or 
would  it  turn    out  a 
great  conflagration  ? 
They  contented  them- 
selves with  telegraph- 
ing that  a  serious  fire 
was  in  progress,  and 
that  if  the  wind  did 
not  abate    the    Eddy 
colony     of    factories 
would  be  destroyed. 

At  twelve  o'clock 
the  flames,  following 
the  yellow  wall  of  tim- 
berand  frame  houses, 
had  worked  down  to 

the  river  bank.  Presently  they  leaped  the 
river  to  the  Ottawa  side.  Bronson's  lum< 
ber  yards  were  ablaze.  The  whole  in- 
dustrial district  of  the  Chaudiere  was 
threatened.  Over  in  Hull  the  fire  re- 
traced Its  steps  and  licked  up  the  Eddy 
factories.  The  gale  was  still  piping 
and  screeching  with  inexorable  fury. 
A  national  calamity  was  imminent. 
Not  only  Hull,  but  Ottawa,  was  threat- 
ened with  obliteration.  From  that 
time  on,  the  newspaper  men  threw  off 
their  indifference,  and  kept  the  wires 
hot  with  panicky  messages.  It  was 
hard  for  them  to  keep  their  feet  on  the 

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against  the  wind  and  eats  up  massive 
buildings  like  so  much  paper.  I  note 
one  roof  after  another  twinkle,  ^low 
and  burst  out  in  garish  effulgence.  The 
millions  of  feet  of  lumber  all  along  the 
river  banks  are  alight.  The  lurid,  en- 
fouldred  smoke  floats  in  dense  plumes 
over  Parliament  Hill  and  the  towers  of 
the  national  buildings.  Half  the  popu- 
lation of  Ottawa  is  lined  along  the  es- 
carpment of  the  cliff,  watching  the 
spectacle.  It  is  not  often  you  have  a 
chance  to  see  a  city  burning  at  your 
feet,  Nero  is  notorious,  but  Nero 
had  not  a  vantage  point  like  Parlia- 
ment Hill.  There  are  young  girls  in 
this  throng  who  have  watched  all  after- 
noon, and  will  watch  far  into  the  night, 
for  the  scene  is  terribly  compelling  in 
its  fascination.  Also  there  is  a  spice 
of  danger.  At  any  moment  the  fire 
may  leap  across  the  Ottawa-to  Lower 
Town,  and  once  those  tinder-dry  dwel- 
lings feel  the  caress  of  the  tire,  there 
will  be,  as  somebody  at  my  side  says, 
"hell  to  pay." 

So  much  for  Hull.  The  red  glow 
in  the  south-west  tells  us  that  the  cor- 
don of  lire  is  closing  in  on  Ottawa. 
The  firemen  have  been  working  like 
heroes.     Only  a  bite  and  a  sup  since 

eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  They 
have  fought  stubbornly,  yielding  inch 
by  inch,  never  retreating  until  the 
flames  scorched  their  heads  or  burnt 
their  hose-lines.  The  police  are  doing 
their  duty  manfully,  but  the  fire-line  is 
hard  to  maintain  against  distracted  men 
and  women  who  see  their  little  atl 
going  up  in  sparks  and  cracklings. 

Darkness  hovers  over  the  whole  city 
for  the  electric  light  works  have  been 
destroyed.  There  is  nothing  to  divert 
the  attention  from  the  menacing  grand- 
eur of  the  conflagration.  The  river 
flows  along  black  and  sullen  save  where 
it  is  traversed  by  broad  red  shafts  of 
light  from  burning  deals  or  mill  flumes. 
Only  one  building  stands  unsinged  on 
Chaudiere  Island,  the  iron-sheeted 
structure  of  the  Ottawa  carbide  works. 
It  looms  up  like  a  great  unwieldy 
ghost.  Over  in  Hull  to-day  the  humble 
but  devout  people,  as  they  saw  the  fire 
drawing  ever  nearer,  hung  sacred  pic- 
tures on  the  door  jambs  to  avert  the 
wrath  of  ie  bon  Dteu,  or  else  they  fled 
to  the  cathedral  and  prayed  wildly  for 
the  flames  to  abate.  Alas  that  prayers 
are  not  always  answered !  An  hour 
later  these  suppliants  were  fleeing  bare- 
footed to  the  river.     Oh,  the  pity  of  it ! 


Digitized  byGoOgIC 

The  weary  mothers  with  babes  at  the 
breast  and  a  queue  of  little  children 
following.  Little  girls  with  their  Sun- 
day hats  carefully  preserved  in  band- 
boxes. Little  boys  with  pet  guinea 
pigs  or  rabbits,  and  one  little  fellow, 
not  more  than  three  years  old,  with  a 
pair  of  red-topped  boots  with  copper 
shields  strung  over  his  arm.  All  these 
homeless  people  stream  through  the 
streets  of  Ottawa  and  even  the  most 
worldly  sighs  at  the  thought  of  it. 
The  unutterable  misery  of  these  poor 
people,  stripped  of  all  their  chattels 
and  their  means  of  livelihood  taken 
away  touches  our  hearts  most  keenly. 
I  met  one  poor  Frenchman  on  Parlia- 
ment Hill  among  the  crowd  of  specta- 
tors. His  house  in  Hull  had  been  one 
of  the  hrst  to  go.  He  was  gazing  with 
strained  eyes  at  the  destruction  of  the 
city.  He  had  lost  all.  But  most- 
ly he  deplored  that  he  had  not  saved 
a  little  souvenir  of  his  dead  child. 
"Ah,"  he  moaned,  "the  locket  of 
Marie  with  her  picture  in  itt  I  shall 
not  see  it  again."  And  so  there  is 
deep  and  tender  sentiment  in  a  rough 
mill-hand  after  all.  He  is  much  more 
than  a  mere  clod. 

At  eleven  o'clock  at  night  I  make 

V   CO.  S    PAPER   MILLS. 

another  fire  patrol,  first  through  the 
Government  Park.  All  the  spectators 
have  been  turned  out  because  it  is 
after  hours.  The  only  men  I  meet  are 
the  brass-buttoned  policemen  keeping 
their  vigil.  Only  the  main  entrance  of 
the  House  of  Commons  is  open.  A 
cordon  of  police  guards  the  national 
buildings  and  all  strangers  must  show 
their  business.  The  air  ducts  which 
open  on  the  cliff  of  Parliament  are 
rigidly  sentinelled  by  militia.  There 
are  rumours — false,  it  is  true,  but  ner- 
vous— that  a  Fenian  plot  is  afoot,  for 
the  fire  comes  close  on  the  heels  of  the 
Weltand  Canal  outrage.  Long  lines 
of  hose  stretch  out  in  all  directions 
from  the  Parliament  buildings.  From 
the  top  landing  of  the  Lovers'  Walk 
the  scene  is  superb,  it  is  like  looking 
on  the  Phlegrean  fields  or  into  the 
crater  of  an  active  volcano.  Although 
it  is  a  chilly  night  and  top  coats  are 
grateful,  the  heat  from  the  burning 
deals  across  the  river  is  fierce  enough 
to  scorch  my  face.  The  situation  has 
not  much  changed,  save  that  the  Hull 
cathedral  which  seemed  doomed  to  de- 
struction earlier  in  the  evening,  still 
stands  intact  and  the  flames  are  walk- 
ing away  from  it.     This  looks  like  a 


maro.  by  itttawav.  OTTAWA— THK  Ma 

miracle  and  will  be  so  regarded  by  the 
truly  pious.  Eddy's  sulphite  works, 
the  most  combustible  area  in  Hull,  is 
untouched,  although  the  fire  crackles 
and  sputters  just  across  the  roadway. 
The  fire  brigade  of  the  mill  have  toiled 
tike  demons.  When  the  church  people 
begin  to  canonize  the  miracle-workers 
they  should  not  forget  the  men  at  the 
sulphite  mill.  The  various  colours  of 
the  fire  are  curiously  contrasted.  To 
the  east  it  is  a  light  yellow.  The 
ground  burnt  over  l^ickers  a  dull  but 
angry  red.  The  deals  burn  with  a 
bright  orange  glow.  The  village  of 
Hintonburg,  away  to  the  southwest, 
flames  like  some  Gargantuan  rose  gar- 
den ;  a  point  farther  south  the  fire 
takes  on  a  pale  white  hue.  It  must  be 
the  atmospheric  conditions  that  make 
the  difference.  I  go  as  far  along  Ri- 
deau  street  as  I  can.  This  brings  me 
to  the  edge  of  the  natural  bastion  I 
have  mentioned  before.  Below  are 
the  flats.  It  is  a  scene  for  Dor^  to 
paint  and  for  Dante  to  write  about. 
The  reek  of  the  pit  in  your  nostrils, 
sidewalks  torn  up,  telegraph  poles  and 
trees  afire,  sparks  flying,  flames  hiss- 
ing, a  hopeless  huddle  of  broken  wires, 
hosereels  clanging  along,  gaunt  walls 

:kav  flour  hill. 

of  gutted  houses  showing  dimly  through 
the  smoke — everywhere  confusion  and 

It  was  the  next  afternoon  that  I  made 
a  survey  of  the  ruins.  The  fire,  be  it 
remembered,  has  swept  an  area  of  five 
miles.  Generally  speaking,  it  follows 
the  form  of  a  crescent,  beginning  in  a 
line  with  the  ferry  landing  at  Hull, 
bending  westward  along  the  curve  of 
Main  Street,  swerving  sharply  Into 
Bridge  Street  and  the  Eddy  colony  of 
factories,  thence  over  the  Chaudiere 
bridges  to  Chaudiere  Island,  onward 
to  the  mainland  and  across  the  west- 
ward flats  of  Ottawa  clear  to  the  gates 
of  the  Experimental  Farm.  It  was 
this  crescent  I  determined  to  negotiate, 
but  it  turned  out  a  terrific  task,  and 
I  gave  it  up  readily  enough  when 
I  reached  the  Ottawa  shore.  The  trip, 
however,  took  me  through  the  most 
picturesque  part  of  the  desolation. 
Landing  on  the  quay  at  Hull  I  stepped 
over  some  very  precarious  planks  to  the 
shore.  This  brought  me  to  the  Eddy 
sulphite  works  and  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic cathedral — the  eastern  limit  of  the 
fire,  if  we  except  a  blaze  which  started 
in  Gilmour's  mill,  a  mile  and  a  half 
down  the  river.     The  sulphite  works 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


and  the  church  are  both  doing  business 
at  the  old  stand,  just  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  Also  a  quaint  little  under- 
taker's shop  around  the  corner  which 
advertises  naively  that  its  prices  are  the 

lowest  and  its  hearses  the  most  beau- 
tiful. The  high  fence  which  surrounds 
the  sulphite  works  is  singed  ;  the  tele- 
graph poles  are  burned  and  a  snarl  of 
tangled  wire  sprawls  over  the  road- 

□  igitizedbyGoOglC 

way.     Several  piles  of  deals  in  the  up- 
per yard  are  charred  at  the  ends,  three 
Canadian    Pacific     freight     cars,    not 
twenty  feet  to  the  east,  are  perforated 
with    the    flames,  the    trams    of    the 
Wright  cement  works  are  burnt  to  the 
trucks,  and  the  metals  of  the  tramway 
ripple  and  writhe  like  the  Ottawa  in 
spate.    The  heat  has  been  fierce  enough 
to  twist   these  iron  rails  like   willow 
ivands.     All  these  things  serve  to  show 
how  valiantly  the  fire  brigade  of  the 
sulphite  works  fought 
to    ward    off   such    a 
tremendousfoe.  There 
is    no    use    following 
streets  in  an  expedi- 
tion like  this.    Streets 
may    be    faintly  indi- 
cated by  a  litter  of  old 
stoves  or  charred  bed- 
ding, but  practically, 
Hull,  from    the  ferry 
landing  westward,  is 
AS  bare  as  God  made 
it,  save  and  except  for 
the  ruins  which  mark 
where     houses      and 
proud    public     build- 
ings   once     stood. 
There  will  be  a  deal 

of  surveying  to  do  before  the  town  lots 
can  be  relocated.  The  chain  and  the- 
odolite have  their  work  cut  out  for 

Plunging  at  once  into  the  waste,  the 
first  thing  to  observe  is  that  this  hard 
Laurentian  rock  has  been  burned  to  the 
chalky  hue  and  brittle  consistency  of 
the  lime  they  made  in  the  kilns  of  the 
Wright  cement  works.  Take  your 
cane  and  tap  the  mother  rock.  It 
splinters  under  the  ferrule.      Here  we 

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in  amnleur  photo,  by  E.  A.  Mc 

are  amidst  the  relics  of  a  thousand 
homes,  the  small  pitiable  chattels  of 
the  humble  poor.  Awhile  ago  there 
were  trees  and  verdure  surrounding 
these  thrifty  cottages.  Now  every- 
thing has  disappeared,  and  Mother 
Earth  shows  only  her  hard,  stony  skele- 
ton, unfleshed  and  indurate.  A  few 
steps  the  other  way  through  red  ashes 
and  smouldering  rubble,  and  we  come 
upon  the  remains  of  the  Wright  cement 
works.  The  red  brick-kilns,  round 
shaped  like  Martello  towers,  stand 
straight  and  strong,  but  the  stone 
buildings  which  clustered  about  them 
have  vanished  as  if  they  never  were. 
It  is  noticeable,  indeed,  all  through 
Hull  that  the  factory  chimneys  of  brick 
withstood  the  ordeal,  while  the  factory 
buildings  of  stone  succumbed.  This 
must  mean  either  that  brick  is  better 
than  stone  to  endure  fire  or  that  being 
more  stoutly  built  and  more  firmly  laid 
they  do  not  disintegrate  so  easily. 

From  where  i  stand  I  can  see  the 
ruins  of  the  post  office,  four  gaunt 
stone  walls  and  a  gaping  loophole 
where  once  was  the  city  clock.  The 
town  halt  is  gutted  and  tottering.  The 
Palais  de  Justice  is  dismantled  as  far 
as  the  justice  end  of  the  establishment 
is  concerned,  but  the  jail  and  the  prison 
waits  are  almost  unsinged.  The  prison 
wall  is  a  splendid  piece  of  masonry, 
and  the  coping  stone  is  as   white  as  if 

it  had  not  been  in  the 
very  midst  of  a  seeth- 
ing furnace.  Per- 
haps it  was  one  of  the 
whims  of  the  fire  to 
pass  the  jful  by  and 
to  destroy  the  place 
that  keeps  the  jail 

Here  is  the  muti- 
lated bulk  of  the  little 
Anglican  church,  the 
facade  of  the  belfry 
still  sharply  outlined 
against  the  sky.  Over 
there  is  the  eviscerat- 
ed shell  of  the  Wright 
mansion.  The  gar- 
'""■'  den  wall  is  unharm- 

ed. Down  there  is  a 
ragged  huddle  of  buildings,  the  Eddy 
factories,  the  match  works,  paper 
and  pulp  mills,  pail  and  tub  depart- 
ment, all  gone  up  in  smoke,  nothing  to 
show  for  millions  of  dollars  except  a 
few  tottering  walls  and  a  jumble  of 
helpless  machinery  !  Coming  a  little 
nearer,  I  find  dynamos  and  turbines,  pis- 
tons, cylinders,  all  tumbled  together,  all 
their  strength  which  depended  on 
steam  and  electricity  gone  from  them, 
and  two  little  water  wheels  which  take 
their  impulse  from  a  tail  race  of  the 
Cbaudiere,  clacking  away  as  busily  as 
a  couple  of  old  gossips  over  the  back- 
yard gate  !  In  such  ways  does  honest, 
unassuming  Nature  take  vengeance  oo 
the  elaborate  engines  of  human  art  ! 

It  is  the  "big  North  slide"  which  I 
follow  to  the  Eddy  factories  through 
the  reek  and  smoke  of  the  smouldering 
ashes.  The  big  North  slide  has  a 
strange,  unfamiliar  look,  stripped  of  its 
flumes,  weirs,  dams  and  other  artificial 
checks  and  channels.  We  have  a 
chance  to  see  the  naked  gorge  and  the 
laminated  Laurentian  cliffs  on  each 
side.  There  is  little  water  in  the  chan- 
nel ;  it  has  been  dammed  somewhere 
above,  but  its  absence  only  serves  to 
make  the  scene  more  rugged  and  terri- 
ble. From  the  cliff  crest  to  the  scanty 
stream  that  dribbles  into  the  turbulent 
Ottawa  it  is  eighty  feet.  There  was  a 
wooden  bridge  here  over  which  ran  a 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



railway  track.  The  bridge  has  dropped 
into  the  water  and  the  severed  rails  are 
twisted  into  the  weirdest  convolutions. 
Just  here  is  a  Frenchman  raking  in  the 
ashes  of  his  home.  He  is  anxious  to 
talk  and  I  have  nothing  better  to  do 
than  to  listen.  "  I  have  lost,"  he  said, 
"  nine  hundred  dollar.  It  was  my  all. 
I  save  not  even  the  stove  pipe,  though 
1  put  him  in  water.  Also  1  lose  twenty- 
four  bottle  of  the  good  white  wine." 
He  painted  sadly  to  a  heap  of  shatter- 
ed glass.  "Well,"  he  went  on,."  I 
spend  all  night  at  the  bottom  of  the 
clifF.  The  fire  come  over  me.  It  was 
hot — ver'  hot.  I  see  the  bridge  fall. 
By  God,  I  was  afraid." 

Further  on  is  another  ratepayer  of  Hull 
looking  over  his  prospects.  "  I  have 
left,"  he  remarked  musingly,  "  the  two 
town  lot,  the  t'ousand  dollar  insurance 
and  the  mortgage.  I  wish  to  God 
they  bum  the  mortgage.  But  the 
vault  was  too  strong.  ■  Why  should 
that  be,  tell  me,  when  the  prothono- 
tarys,  the  sheriff's,  the  city  clerk's 
vaults  all  crumbled  up  like  so  much 
paper  P  But  here  is  the  vault  with  my 
mortgage  as  snug  as  a  cupboard." 

At  last  we  come  to  Bridge  street  and 
the  Eddy  ruins.  The  scene  is  lament- 
able— frayed  wires,  broken  wheels, 
huge  iron  hulks — once  costly  machin- 
ery, wrecked  steam  tubes,  detached 
dynamos,  twisted  trestles,  and  right  in 
the  midst  of  it  the  Eddy  lire  engine, 
stove  in  by  a  fallen  telegraph  pole. 
The  "devil's  pot,"  as  they  call  a  cer- 
tain conjuncture  of  discharging  flumes, 
is  boiling  fiercely.  The  Chaudiere 
doesn't  shut  up  shop,  but  there  are  no 
wheels  to  turn  and  no  factories  to  util- 
ize its  tremendous  powers. 

Over  the  Chaudiere  bridge  we  go — 
it  is  unscathed — and  now  we  are  on 
Chaudiere  Island  amidst  the  ruins  of 
the  McKay  flour  mills,  the  electric  light 
works,  and  the  Booth  saw  mills  and 
lumber  yard.  The  fire  has  made  a 
clean  sweep  of  the  Booth  lumber,  the 
Booth  houses,  built  for  his  employes, 
and  even  the  palatial  home  of  the  great 
captain  of  industry  himself,  but  the 
saw  mills  are  safe  and  streams  of  water 
from  Mr.  Booth's  own  pumping  house 

are  playing  on  a  great  heap  of  burning 
coal  by  the  roadside. 

Between  us  and  the  mainland  is  a 
shapeless  raffle  of  steel  girders  and 
stringers,  once  a  bridge.  Over  these 
we  fare,  our  hearts  in  our  mouths,  and 
we  are  back  in  Ottawa  once  more. 
Here  the  ruthless  march  of  the  fire 
around  the  city  is  open  to  our  eye. 
There  are  macy  people  gathering  nails 
from  the  ruins.  Why?  we  ask.  Oh. 
they  are  very  good  nails — they  have 
been  through  the  fire — what  you  call 
tempered.  We  shall  use  them  to  build 
new  houses.  Such  is  the  indomitable 
Canadian  spirit. 

The  fire  has  a  grim  humour  of  its 
own.  We  notice  everything  consumed 
right  up  to  the  wall  of  a  saloon  on 
Duke  street.  It  has  never  a  blister. 
To-day  it  is  coining  money,  for  fire 
needs  much  liquid  to  drench  it.  Across 
the  road  is  another  groggery.  At  least 
it  was  there  once.  Now  nothing  is 
left  but  the  license.  This  seems  un- 
fair. But  what  would  you  ?  Here  is 
a  solid  stone  shop  burnt  to  the  pave- 
ment, and  a  miserable  little  wooden 
smithy,  cheek  by  jowl  with  it,  bears 
not  a  scar.  Here  is  a  flimsy  little 
shack  unmarred — it  has  gone  through 
four  fires — and  not  a  hundred  feet 
away  two  splendid  stone  residences  are 
so  many  heaps  of  rubble. 

Many  uproarious  stories  are  afloat  of 
burned  whiskers  and  singed  hair.  Also 
there  is  one  of  a  lady  who  weighed  near- 
ly three  hundred  pounds.  Her  husband 
could  find  nothing  better  than  a  cart 
in  which  to  move  her  from  danger.  He 
started  oflf  jauntily  up  a  steep  hill,  but 
the  tail  board  came  loose  and  the  lady 
rolled  out  and  down.  "Stop  her  I 
stop  her ! "  shouted  the  anxious  hus- 
band. "  Oh,  no,  let  her  slide  !  "  came 
a  voice  from  the  crowd,  "there  are 
plenty  more.  You  can  get  a  lighter 
one  next  time." 

The  church  of  St.  Jean  Baptiste  sits 
proudly  on  a  hill.  Behind  this  the  fire 
did  not  prevail,  though  It  strove  hard 
to  escalade.  Let  us  thank  Heaven  for 
the  hills  and  the  everlasting  girdle  of 
rock,  for  it  was  these  saved  Ottawa. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


By  Marshall  Owen  Scott,  Press  Gallery,   Oliawa. 

THE  painted  red  men  of  the  prairies 
and  forests  we  still  have  with  us. 
In  the  Sua  Dance,  the  Potlatch  and 
other  pag'an  practices, — the  war-whoop 
is  heard,  and  the  tomahawk  and  scalp* 
ing-knife  flash  in  the  light.  The  re- 
volting savagery  of  the  Wehndigo'  has 

'  Report  of  Deputy  Superintendent,  De- 
partment of  Indian  Affairs,  December  31, 
1899,  pajfeitxix.: 

"  The  Indians  as  a  class  are  law-abiding' in 
a.  niarked  degree,  and  serious  crime  is  rare 
amon^  them.  In  the  course  of  the  year  some 
few  of  their  number  were  chatted  with  liav- 
ing  lakcn  human  life.  One  case  was  the  de- 
liberate and  apparently  unprovoked  murder 

of  an  inoRensive  seltler  at  Kamloopa 

The  other  cases  were  of  a  widely  different 
character,  and  occurred  among:  Indians  far 
removed  from  civilizing  influences,  and  the 
taking  of  life  was  prompted  by  molivcs  of 
self-preservation  and  sanctioned  by  establish- 
ed tribal  usage. 

not  yet  been  completely  stamped  out, 
and  the  horrible  feastings  of  the  Ha- 
matas*  have  not  entirely  ceased. 

But  civilization  is  winning  its  way. 
The  best  strains  of  Indian  blood  are 
sending  in  their  young  to  be  educated 
in  ever-growingnumbers.  Themostde- 

The  Indians  put  to  death  were  what  the 
Wood  Crees  call  '  Wehndigos,'  that  is,  pos- 
sessed of  an  insane  desire  to  kill  and  eat  the 
flesh  of  their  victims,  and  such  cases  are  by 
no  means  uncommon  among  them.  The  lust 
10  kill  would  not  apparently  itifTcr  malerially 
from  the  homicidal  mania  which  occasionally 
seizes  upon  members  of  any  community,  and 
the  explanation  of  the  peculiar  and  revolting 
cannibal  accompaniment  will  no  doubt  be 
found  in  the  direction  given  by  insanity  (o  the 
impulses  of  people  in  whose  lives  the  main 
occupation  and  all-absorbing  interest  is  kill- 
ing in  order  to  eat,  and  with  whom  the  ideas 
of  killing  and  eating  are  consequently  insep- 
arably connected." 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



basedof  the  old  pagansof  inferior  blood 
are  dyin^  out  faster  than  men  of  good 
race  who  wish  to  improve  themselves 
and  those  who  are  to  come  after  them. 
In  many  tribes  where  paganism  over- 
'whelmingly  predominates,  many  de- 
grading features  of  their  rites  are 
being  modified.  Morality  among  the 
vfTomen  in  tribes  where  chastity  was 
comparatively  unitnown,  is  increasing. 
There  are  red  men  to-day  who,  under 

civilized  teaching,  build  houses  and 
own  lots,  or  have  bank  accounts  in  the 
cities  of  the  pale-face.  The  wigwam 
and  the  log-cabin  are  seen  side  by 

In  the  same  villages  are  Sun  Dances 
and  the  worship  of  the  Most  High. 
Where  paganism  is  supreme  there  is 
sloth  and  foul  things  unspeakable. 
Where  the  prayer  of  the  pale-face  is 
heard,  intelligence,  thrift  and  progress 

'  Trial ofGeorge  Hum,  at  Vancouver,  B.C., 
(reported  April  rj,  1900)  for  takingpart  in  an 
Indian  potlalch,  and  assisting;  other  Hamatas 
to  carve  and  eal  a  human  body: — "Vancouver, 
April  27. — Geoi^e  Hunt  was  tried  before  Jus- 
tice McColl  and  Jud)^  Bole,  charg;ed  with 
taking  part  in  an  Indian  celebration  or  pot- 
latch,  and  mutilating  and  eating  parts  of  a 
dead  body.  These  celebrations  are  contrary 
to  Section  1 14  oflhe  Criminal  Code.  To  Cop, 
an  Indian  of  the  To-Nak-Lak  tribe,  said  he 
was  at  a  Hamala  dance,  at  Alert  Bay,  on 
February  the  17th,  and  saw  Hunt  there.  He 
said  that  a  Hamata  was  one  who  dances  and 
eats  a  human  body.  At  Alert  Bay,  a  Hamata 
bit  a  txiy  and  two  men.  He  cut  strips  of  flesh 

appear.  Tens  of  thousands  of  red  men 
who  have  given  up  paganism  for  civil- 
ization,  are  raising  cattle  and  grain, 

from  a  living  boy's  arm  with  a  razor,  and  then 
went  out  and  came  back  with  a  human  body. 
Hunt,  who  had  been  there  all  day,  got  a  red 
cedar  turban  like  the  rest  of  the  Hamatas 
wore,  and  danced  round  and  round  the  house, 
singing  in  Indian,  and  then  carved  the  body 
up  and  Kave  It  lo  the  dancers.  They  ate  up 
all  the  flesh,  and  the  bones  were  wrapped  in 
a  blanket  and  taken  away.  When  the  eating 
was  finished,  prisoner  stood  up  and  advised 
the  people  to  say  nothing  about  It,  as  it  wasa 
serious  af^ir." 

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and  industriously  lifting  themselves 
from  the  depths,  in  the  same  communi- 
ties as  pagans  who,  naked,  painted 
and  feathered,  perform  the  dances  and 
observe  the  rites  of  the  savages  of  the 
plains  and  forests  who  were  their  fore- 

Counting  the  avowed  pagans  of  Ca- 
nada, together  with  the  red  men  who 
profess  no  religious  belief,  and  are  un- 
doubtedly pagans  too,  they  are  found 
by  the  last  official  numbering  to  aggre- 

progress,  with  the  help  of  Section  114 
of  the  Criminal  Code  of  Canada, 
which  forbids  and  punishes  certain 
pagan  rites,  are  gaining.  In  a  few 
years,  at  the  present  rate  of  progress, 
there  will  be  comparatively  few  left 
to  perform  the  pagan  dances  but  the 
wrinkled,  toothless  and  tottering  old 
savages  with  one  foot  in  the  grave. 

It  has  taken  three  hundred  years, 
very  nearly,  to  smash  the  pagan  pre- 
dominance and  set  up  in  its  place,  to 

gate  a  fraction  under  thirty  per  cent, 
of  the  entire  Indian  population  of  Ca- 
nada, some  thirty  pagans  out  of  every 
hundred  Indians,'  Thirty  pagans, 
against  seventy  souls  professing  some 
sort  of  religious  belief  may  seem  a 
large  proportion,  but  the  tide  is  turn- 
ing, and  the  missionaries,  the  Mounted 
Police,    aud   the  advancing    waves  of 

'  Departmeal  of  Indian  Affairs,  Annual  Re- 
port for  1899,  pa^e  499,  See  "Pagans," 
and  "  Unknown." 

the  extent  witnessed  to-day,  the  wor- 
ship of  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
and  the  belief  in  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Saviour  of  mankind. 

On  the  third  day  of  October,  1535. 
Jacques  Cartier,  with  some  Indians 
who  had  brought  him  up  from  Tadou- 
sac,  on  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence,  to 
the  Indian  settlement  of  Hochelaga, 
made  the  ascension  of  the  mountain 
that  rises  north  of  the  present  city  of 
Montreal,    to  survey  the  surrounding 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

3   RACES,    PBNELAKUT,    I 



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country.  As  far  as  his  eye  reached, 
east,  west,  north  and  south,  stretched 
the  forest  primeval,  with  a  dancing-,  end- 
less expanse  of  foliag-e  in  all  the  glory  of 
its  autumnal  splendour, — bounded  on 
the  far  north  by  the  Laurentides,  on  the 
west  by  the  setting  sun  ;  to  the  south 
andeastby  the  broad,  sparkling  St.  Law- 
rence, at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  with 
another  great  river,  the  Outouais  (now 
the  Ottawa)  coming  down  into  it  from 
the  northwest.  Except  for  the  blue 
smoke  of  the  fires  of  a  Huron- Iroquois 
settlement,  there  was  not  a  sign  of 
human  life  to  be  seen  in  all  that  vast 
region.  Quarter  of  a  century  before, 
the  fierce  Algonkins,  holding  the  coun- 
try north  of  the  Outouais,  had  scalped 
and  tomahawked,  and  with  flames  and 
horrors  of  savage  warfare,  driven  the 
Iroquois  before  them  out  of  all  that 
country,  and  on  the  south  shore  of  the 
St,  Lawrence  the  war-whoop  of  the 
Iroquois  brave  has  never  since  been 
beard.  The  Algonkins  went  back  in 
triumph  to  their  wigwam.*!  with  the 
scalps  of  their  foes  at  their  belts. 

Cartier  was  there,  not  to  save  souls, 
but  to  find  the  high  road  to  China  and 
Japan,  not  to  Christianize  pagans,  but 
to  discover  the  fabulous  kingdom  of  the 
Saguenay,  with  its  imagined  gold  and 
silver  and  precious  stones.*  He  had 
not  penetrated  the  wilderness  to  hew 
a  road  for  missionaries.  That  was  to 
come  later,  when  in  1603,  Champlain 
with  his  Indians  from  the  Lower  St. 
Lawrence,  pioneered  the  path  that  the 
servants  of  the  Most  High  might  fol- 
low. In  1615,  Champlain  painfully 
forced  his  way  through  forests  and 
rapids,  and  around  cascades,  foot  by 
foot,  up  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the 
Ottawa,  by  Mattawtn  and  Lake  Nipis- 
sing,  to  the  west,  till  he  found  the 
Huron  nation.  Then  he  rested.  With 
him  were  twelve  Frenchmen,  ten  In- 
dians, and  the  Recollet  Father  Joseph 
Le  Caron. 

Red  with  the  blood  of  savage  and 
pale-foce  'were  the  years  that  fol- 
lowed.    Champlain's    Indian    alliances 

•Suite's  "Valley  of  Ibe  Grand  River," 
Transactions  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Canada, 
1898,  secUoD  ii,  page  108. 

forced  him  to  fight  with  the  Hurons  in 
their  invasion  of  the  Iroquois  country, 
(1615)  the  Mohawk  branch  of  the 
Iroquois  having  previously  ravaged 
the  region  of  the  Algonkins  between 
Quebec  and  Montreal  on  the  banks  of 
the  St.  Lawrence.  The  Iroquois  league 
at  that  time  included  the  Mohawks, 
Oneidas,  Onandagas,  Cayugas,  Senecas 
and  Delawares.  Afterwards  the  Tus- 
caroras  joined  the  league,  and  the  five- 
nations  confederation  became  the  six- 
nations  league.  The  confederacy,  thus 
strengthened,  formed  plans  to  attack 
and  subjugate  all  lesser  tribes  and 
force  the  captives  to  go  with  them  on 
the  war-path,  to  finally  establish  the 
supremacy  of  the  red  men  over  the 
pale-faces.  The  Dutch  and  English 
colonies  were  firmly  established  to  the 
-south-east  of  them,  and  the  French  to 
the  north,  he  league  occupied  the  vast 
forest  areas  between  Vaudreuil  and 
Kingston  on  the  south  side  of  the  St. 
Lawrence.  Whilst  the  Iroquois  de- 
feated some  of  the  nearest  tribes, 
other  red-skin  bands  were  fiercely  ex- 
terminating each  other.  The  blood- 
shed continued  until  1644,  when  the 
French  with  their  allies  entered  into  a 
treaty  of  peace  with  the  Iroquois ; 
but  in  1646  the  Iroquois  again  sounded 
the  war  cry,  raised  the  hatchet,  and 
attacked  the  French  settlements  and  the 
Hurons,  pillaging,  killing  and  burning, 
until  in  1650  all  Upper  Canada  was 
practically  the  hunting  ground  of  the 
confederacy.  Thenceforth,  until  the 
victory  of  Wolfe  at  Quebec  in  1759, 
the  Iroquois  proved  a  veritable  thorn 
in  the  side  to  the  French.  After  the 
final  occupation  of  Canada  by  the 
British,  the  Indians  were  gradually 
settled  in  military  reservations,  and 
the  savage  wars  of  the  red  men  ceased, 
it  is  to  be  hoped,  forever. 

From  the  arrival  of  the  first  French 
missionary,  in  1615,  to  the  acquisition 
of  Canada  by  Great  Britain  in  1763, 
the  Roman  Catholic  fathers  had  the 
field  among  the  friendly  savages  to 
themselves.  The  British  took  hold  of 
the  government  of  the  country,  and 
Protestant  missionaries  began  to  ap- 
pear.      Results  'are    shown,    in    the 

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religious  census  of  the  Indians  for 
1899,  just  published  by  the  Depart- 
ment of  Indian  Aifairs,  two  hundred 
and  eighty- four  years  after  the  advent  of 
P6re Joseph  LeCaroo,  namely:  Roman 
Catholic  Indians,  39,784;  Anglicans, 
16,363;  Methodists,  10,757;  E'resby- 
terians,  1,367;  Baptists,  932;  Congre- 
gationalists,  73;  professing  other  forms 
of  Christian  belief,  460;  pagans,  15,- 
147;  religion  unknown,  (pagans,  of 
course),  14,100.  Id  almost  every 
official  report  of  Indian  agents,  found 
in  the  blue  book  for  the  past  year, 
the  pagans  are  shown  to  be  usually 
ignorant,  indifferent  and  lazy ;  the 
Christians  intelligent,  willing  to  learn, 
industrious  and  hopeful. 

Before  dipping  into  the  story  of  the 
past  year  among  the  red  men  of 
Canada,  it  may  be  useful,  in  order  to. 
compare  present  conditions  with  those 
prevailing  in  former  years,  to  quote 
from  an  account  given  by  Captain 
John  Smith,  of  the  United  Presby- 
terian Mission,  in  1874,  of  Dalles  Mis- 
sion,' after  the  Indians  had  been  tor 
some  time  in  contact  with  the  whites. 
Although  the  mission  was  situated 
south  of  the  Canadian  boundary,  the 
experience  of  workers  both  sides  of 
the  line  wherever  similar  influences 
prevailed  was  very  much  the  same. 
"  A  more  degraded  set  of  beings,  I  am 
sure,"  wrote  Smith,  "did  not  exist  on 
the  earth.  The  mind  of  man  could 
not  conceive  that  human  beings  could 
get  so  low  in  the  scale  of  humanity  as 
they  were;  and  I  am  sure,  if  they  had 
been  left  to  the  instincts  of  their  own 
wild  savage  nature,  they  could  never 
have  been  so  low  down  as  they  were. 
God's  holy  Sabbath  was  set  apart  as  a 
day  of  licentiousness  and  debauchery. 
.  .  .  Their  women  were  unchaste  and 
were  taught  to  believe  that  lewdness 
was  a  commendable  practice,  even  a 
virtue.  Diseases  and  death  were  en- 
tailed on  their  posterity. 

Previous  to  Captain  Smith's  admin- 
istration, polygamy  was  indulged  to 
its  fullest  extent,  and  the  women  were 
bought  and  sold  and  used  as  beasts  of 

burden,  and  when  old  they  were  kicked 
out  to  get  their  living  as  best  they 
could  or  to  die  of  want.  All  this  is 
changed.  The  leaven  of  Christianity 
has  been  at  work,  polygamy  is  abol- 
ished, men,  women  and  children  live 
moral  lives.  In  1880,  agriculture 
flourished,  the  Indians  had  their  own 
flour  mill,  waggon  shop  and  black- 
smithy,  and  sixty  children  in  the 
agency  school  could  read  English. 

In  Canada,  civilized  teaching  among 
the  pagans  have  borne  similar  fruits. 
The  men  of  God  are  resolutely  backed 
up  in  their  civilizing  labours  by  the 
men  of  the  Canadian  Government,  and 
a  fine  proof  of  the  uprising  from  pag- 
anism to  Christianity  is  afforded  by  the 
work  of  the  Anglicans  and  Roman 
Catholics  among  the  Blackfoot  Indians 
of  Blackfoot  Agency,  Northwest  Ter- 
ritories, to  take  one  of  the  first  instan- 
ces at  hand  out  of  scores.  These 
tribes  are  the  Blackfeet  proper.  The 
Bloods,  Peigans,  and  South  Peigans, 
on  the  American  side,  who  speak  the 
same  language,  are  branches  of  the 
Blackfoot  nation.  The  late  Chief 
Crowfoot  was  the  recognized  head  of 
all  the  tribes  during  his  lifetime.  These 
Indians  are  mostiy  pagans,  but  the 
Christian  priests  have  been  holding  re- 
gular services  among  them  and  nurs- 
ing their  sick,  and  quite  a  number  of 
the  pagans  have  been  attending  the 
meetings,  and  a  targe  proportion  have 
permanently  joined  the  different  deno- 
minations. The  corresponding  chan- 
ges in  social  and  economic  conditions- 
have  been  most  marked.  The  Indians 
live  in  tents  in  the  summer  and  in  log 
houses  during  the  winter.  They  have 
engaged  in  farming  and  raising  cattle^ 
in  herding  for  ranchers,  haying  and 
general  farm  work,  "  giving  good  sat- 
isfaction to  their  employers."  A  num- 
ber of  the  Indian  women  are  employed 
by  ranchers'  wives,  washing  and  house- 
work. The  men  took  a  hay  contract 
and  received  $1,397.50*  as  proceeds. 
They  cut  and  stacked  thirteen  hundred 
and  fifty  tons  of  hay,  besides  for  their 
own  cattle,  for  farmers,  for  the  Agency, 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


the  schools  and  raachers,  realized 
$533  by  the  surplus  oats,  and  out  of 
the  proceeds  of  their  labour  purchased 
a  self-binder  and  seeder.  They  also 
mined  seven  hundred  and  sixty-two 
tons  of  coal  during  the  year  and  sold 
it  to  settlers,  the  Northwest  Mounted 
Police,  the  schools,  agency  and  so 
forth.  They  worked  the  drifts  during 
the  winter.  They  have  bought  four 
thoroughbred  short-horn  bulls  to  add 
to  the  eight  they  had  before,  and  the 
last  round-up  showed  a  calf-crop  of 
nioety-three.  The  girls  especially  are 
making  good  progress  at  the  schools, 
speak  English  well,  and  are  quite 
clever  at  knitting,  washing,  cooking 
and  baking  bread.  New  waggons  and 
implements  were  bought  by  Yellow 
Horse,  White  Pup,  Yellow  Tail-Feath- 
ers.  Running  Marten,  Ruuning  Rabbit's 
Son,  White  Eagle,  Little  Axe,  Big- 
Road,  Bear  Chief,  Many  Good,  The 
Cutter,  Bad  Old  Man's  Son,  Greasy 
Forehead,  Wolf  Collar,  Big  Old  Man, 
and  Crow  Shoe.  The  Indians  during 
the  year  earned  $7,3^5  iiom.  the  sale 
of  ponies,  beef-cattle,  and  from  other 
sources,  iacluding  the  amounts  given 

The  Sun  Dance  on  this  Agency,  it  is 
confidently  predicted  by  the  agent,  will 
soon  die  out.  It  was  held  this  year  in 
August,  a  later  period  than  usual.  The 
women,  as  a  rule,  are  moral,  compared 
with  those  of  other  tribes. 

There  are  red  men  in  bands  that 
ipere  not  so  long  ago  pagans,  who  own 
houses  in  the  city  of  New  Westminster, 
B.C.,  on  which  they  pay  taxes.  They 
live  chiefly  by  fishing,  and  supplying 
the  New  Westminster  market  with 
fish.  They  take  an  interest  in  educa- 
tion, attend  church,  and  are  described 
by  their  agent  as  an  industrious,  good 

Great  prepress  of  late  years  has 
been  made  in  the  Get-an-max  band. 
Upper  Skeena  River  Agency.  The 
agent  describes  the  band  as  very  intel- 
ligent, and  in  many  respects  equal  to 
the  whites  in  handiwork  and  accom- 
plishments. Their  services  are  much 
sought  after  in  the  mines  and  kindred 
pursuits.     The  wages  for  men  working 

on  the  trails  are  $3.50  per  diem,  with 
board,  and  the  pay  in  the  mines  ex- 
ceeds that  rate  tor  good  workmen.  As 
an  instance  of  un  individual  Indian's 
progress,  the  agent  cites  one  Moat,  who 
does  good  work  as  a  carpenter,  and  is 
able  to  put  up  a  house  to  order,  of  any 
ordinary  description,  faultlessly.  Many 
similar  examples,  too  numerous  to  enu- 
merate, could  be  given.  The  women 
have  proved  not  less  apt.  "  Every 
woman  not  beyond  middle  age  has  be- 
come an  adept  in  sewing,  mending, 
knitting,  washing,  cooking,  baking 
good  yeast  bread,  and  ia  the  way  of 
ordinary  housekeeping  and  cleanli- 

The  Kis-piox  band,  of  the  same 
Agency,  who  as  pagans  proved  very 
refractory  and  obdurate,  have  become 
as  Christains  most  amenable  to  order. 
A  sawmill,  equipped  by  the  means  and 
through  the  exertions  of  the  Indians, 
has  been  constructed  on  Sic-e-dack, 
one  of  the  Kis-poix  reserves,  at  a  cost 
of  $3,700,  and  is  doing  good  work  in 
turning  out  lumber.  The  band  planted 
their  first  potato  patch  only  a  few  years 
ago,  and  now  they  have  sixteen  acres 
of  garden  plots. 

A  bright  change  from  paganism  is 
the  experience  of  the  Indians  of  the 
Kit-wan-gagh  band  in  the  Upper 
Skeena  River,  B.C.,  Agency.  The 
agent  reports  that  "a  splendid  little 
church,"  with  an  organ,  has  been  con- 
structed by  the  Anglican  Church  Mis- 
sionary Society.  The  children  are  at- 
tending the  church  school,  and  the  red 
men,  under  the  influence  of  Christian 
teaching,  are  described  as  courteous  to 
strangers  and  in  favour  of  any  move- 
ment to  better  their  condition.  Many 
have  become  quite  proficient  in  the^use 
of  tools,  and  a  wood-turning  lathe  is 
in  Operation  and  doing  good  work  in 
beautifying  the  Indians'  homes.  They 
have  put  up  frame  and  log  houses  and 
stables,  and  have  some  live  stock. 
Whilst  the  men  catch  salmon,  keep 
cattle,  hunt  and  trap  and  get  out  cord- 
wood  along  the  river,  the  women  keep 
house  and  gather  and  dry  berries  for 
winter  use. 

Led   by  their    religious   instructors 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


aad  the  govemmeat  ag'ent,  the  I  n- 
dians  of  Bood  Agency,  Calgary,  N.W. 
T.  Inspectorate,  who  are  largely  tak- 
ing to  Christianity,  are  reported  by  In- 
spector T,  P.  Wadsworth  to  be  mak- 
ing progress,  at  any  rate,  in  material 
prosperity.  The  Indians,  on  the  first 
of  September  last,  had  the  large  sum 
of  $16,670  placed  to  their  credit  at  the 
•Union  Bank,  Macleod,  in  addition  to 
their  annuities.  They  had  earned  the 
money  by  cutting,  stacking  and  selling 
hay  to  ranching  companies,  police, 
railway  contractors  and  settlers,  by 
teaming  lumber  and  coal,  and  by  other 

Paganism  seems  to  have  been  almost 
obliterated  among  the  Fort  Simpson 
band  of  Indians,  occupying  one  of  the 
principal  Tsimpsean  Indian  settle- 
ments on  the  north-west  coast  of 
British  Columbia.  Results :  the  In- 
dians own  and  operate  a  furniture  fac- 
tory and  shingle  mill,  and  have  four 
Indian  trading  stores,  two  public  res- 
taurants, a  paint  shop,  and  a  glazing 
and  blacksmithing  shop.  Their  munici- 
pal  affairs  are  controlled  by  an  elective 

One  of  the  many  bands  that  remains 
almost  wholly  pagan  is  the  Owee- 
kayno,  also  on  the  north-west  coast. 
Missionaries  have  worked  among  them 
for  years,  but  very  few  have  become 
Christians,  and  their  children  are  de- 
scribed as  exceedingly  dull  at  school. 
These  Indians  are  steadily  decreasing 
in  numbers,  and  improving  very  little 
in  any  way.  The  same  story  is  told  of 
a  number  of  tribes  that  have  refused 
to  embrace  Christianity,  and  cling  to 
their  old  habits. 

'  Women  are  constantly  prominent  in 
the  Agency  reports.  The  Spallum- 
cheen  band,  in  the  Okanagan  district, 
having  ceased  to  be  pagan,  now  raise 
horses,  cattle  and  pigs,  hunt  and  fish, 
cut  and  sell  timber  and  work  for  set- 
tlers. The  women,  besides  their  do- 
mestic work,  manufacture  deer-skins 
into  buck-skins,  which  they  sell  or 
make  into  articles  of  clothing,  mocca- 
sins, mits  and  gloves  ;  they  make  bas- 
kets of  cedar  roots,  mats  of  rushes  to 
be  used  for  summer  tents  and  ground 

covering,  and  gather  wild  berries,  and 
work  as  servants  for  the  white  settlers. 

"  It  is  not  uncommon  to  find  a 
woman  working  at  a  sewing  machine," 
writes  R.  H.  Pidcock,  Indian  agent  of 
the  Kwawkewlth  Agency,  Quathias- 
ki  cove,  B.C.,  who  are  now  largely 
Christianized.  There  is  a  great ' '  abun- 
dance of  household  utensils  to  be  seen 
in  their  houses,  generally  of  the  best 
quahty. "  Many  of  the  men  are  good 
carpenters,  and  there  are  a  few  work- 
ers in  gold  and  silver. 

A  volume  could  be  filled  with  simi- 
larly gratifying  accounts  of  the  effects 
of  civilizing  influences  00  the  pagan 
red  Indians  of  Northwestern  Canada 
and  the  Pacific  coast,  but  enough  has 
been  written  for  the  purposes  of  this 
sketch.  This  portion  of  the  subject  may 
be  fittingly  concluded  with  an  account  of 
a  novel  method  tried  by  one  of  the  Indian 
agents  in  order  to  persuade  his  red-skio- 
nedchargestogive  up  the  pagandances. 
John  P.  Wright,  agent  at  Crooked 
Lake  Agency,  Eastern  Assiniboia,  has 
charge  of  the  Sakimay  Band,  consist- 
ting  chiefly  of  Salteaux,  with  a  few 
Crees,  nearly  all  pagans.  He  sug- 
gested that  instead  of  paying  the  an- 
nuities on  the  four  reserves,  as  usual, 
last  year,  he  should  pay  all  at  the 
Agency  on  one  day,  the  following  day 
to  be  devoted  to  sports  of  various 
kinds.  This  was  done,  and  a  pro- 
gramme of  twenty-five  events  carried 
out,  for  which  seventy-five  prizes  ivere 
awarded.  The  prizes  were  in  the 
shape  of  goods  and  money  subscribed 
by  the  whites  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try, and  the  events  consisted  of  horse- 
racing,  foot-racing  and  other  compe- 
titions. Over  a  thousand  persons  were 
present,  everything  went  off  well,  and 
everyone  went  home  satisfied  with  the 
first  year's  annual  sports  ;  and  as  a 
consequence  no  Sun  Dances  have  been 
held  in  the  Agency  this  year. 

In  the  Touchwood  Hills  Agency, 
Assiniboia,  Indian  Agent  S.  Swinford, 
writing  from  Kutawa,  on  the  20th  of 
July,  1899,  says  the  old  religious  pagan 
festival  of  the  Sun  Dance  is  no  longer 
spoken  of  there.  Neither  are  so  many 
offerings    of  print   and   doth    found 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



hua^  up  in  the  trees  as  sacrifices  to  tlie 
spirits.  He  thinks  none  of  the  adult 
Indians  will  ever  accept  the  Christian 
relig'ion,  but  many  are  losing'  faith  in 
their  old  beliefs,  "and  fifty  years  hence 
the  few  that  are  left  will,  no  doubt, 
have  adopted  the  religion  of  their  mis- 
sionary teachers,  and  will  have  but  a 
slight  knowledge  of  their  ancestors' 
religious  ceremonies." 

In  Central  Canada,  as  in  the  far  dis- 
tant regions,  not  only  are  Christian  in* 
fluences  winning  converts  steadilyfrom 
paganism,  but  the  character  of  pagan 
observances  is  becoming  less  objec- 
tionable. The  fact  was  brought  out 
by  a  statement  made  in  the  House  of 
Commons  by  Mr.  Osier,  member  for 
Toronto  West,  based  on  the  Archieo- 
logical  Report  of  Ontario  for  1898. 
Mr.  Osier  called  attention  to  the  asser- 
tion, among  other  things,  that  "all  the 
old  heathen  rites  are  still  continued  " 
on  the  Reserve  of  the  Six  Nations  In- 
dians, in  the  very  heart  of  one  of  the 
most  densely  settled  sections  of  Ca- 
aada.  The  Indian  Department  there- 
upon deputed  Mr.  J.  A.  Macrae, 
Inspector  of  Indian  Agencies  and  Re- 
serves, to  proceed  to  the  reserve  and  in- 
vestigate. Mr.  Macrae  found  the  pa- 
gans on  the  reserve  to  number  918, 
out  of  a  total  of  3,000  to  3,500  souls, 
and  such  pagan  rites  as  were  still  prac- 
ticed, to  be,  what  his  informant,  Mr. 
Hill,  an  Indian  of  the  band  and  a 
Christian,  described  as  of  the  simplest 
sort.  Many  of  these  pagans  were  also 
stated  to  attend  Christian  churches. 

These  pagans,  tike  the  Christians, 
have  regular  Sunday  meetings  in  their 
Long-houses,  when  they  are  adressed 
by  their  head-men.  The  talks  are 
upon  morals  and  ethical  matters. 
"They  believe,"  says  Mr.  Macrae, 
"  in  the  existence  of  God,  and  in  fu- 
ture states  of  reward  and  punishment, 
but  have  not  openly  professed  belief  in 
our  Saviour,  though  many  are  said  to 
entertain  such  belief  ;  herein  alone  do 
they  differ  from  the  Christians. "  They, 
however,  continue  the  pagan  dances, 
which  are  thus  described  by  Mr 
Macrae  : 

The  Burning  0/  the    White   Dog. — 

This  is  a  sacrifice  to  propitiate  God, 
and  appears  to  be  similar  to  the  offer* 
ings  of  the  Jews.  The  dog  is  humanely 
killed  the  night  before  the  first  full 
moon  in  February.  When  the  moon 
is  full,  the  dog  is  burnt  00  a  pile  or 
pyre  of  wood,  and  the  people  in  atten- 
dance are  exhorted  by  the  oldest  and 
most  esteemed  of  the  chiefs.  When 
the  sacrifice  is  completed,  the  congre- 
gation adjourns  to  the  Long'-house, 
where  it  is  addressed  by  different  speak- 
ers, religious  songs  taking  place  be- 
tween the  speeches,  with  which  songs 
the  congregation  marks  time  by  bodily 
movements,  termed  a  dance,  but  which 
merely  consists  of  a  movement  of  the 
feet  and  bending  of  the  knees.  Noth- 
ing of  a  reprehensible  sort  takes  place, 
and  the  ceremony  is  conducted  with 
the  utmost  propriety  and  order. 

Green  Corn  Dance. — This  is  a 
thank  giving  service  held  when  the 
corn  is  ripe.  The  Long-house  is  decor- 
ated with  the  fruits  of  the  field,  as  the 
altars  of  Christian  churches  are  on 
similar  occasions.  The  speaking,  sing- 
ing and  accompaniment  with  physical 
movements  are  similar  to  those  of  the 
Burning  of  the  White  Dog,  the  only 
difference  being  the  burden  of  the 
speeches.  Thankfulness  is  the  note 
prevalent  at  the  Green  Com  dance  for 
the  bounty  of  the  Creator  ;  propitiatory 
prayer  is  the  predominant  idea  con- 
nected   with    the    White    Dog    cere- 

in  no  wise  objectionable  save  in  so  far 
as  they  retard  acceptance  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion.  They  are  gradually  fall- 
ing into  disuse,  and  unopposed,  except- 
ing by  teaching  and  example,  will  before 
long  be  remembered  only  as  a  tradi- 
tion instead  of  being  actively  prac- 

Only  two  years  before  this,  the  pagan 
dances  on  the  reserves  were  very  realis- 
tic and  impressive,  according  to  a  work 
on  the  Six  Nations  Indians,  dedicated 
to  Hon.  A.  S.  Hardy,  Premier  of 
Ontario.'     The   writer  says:     "The 

'"The  Six  Nations  Indians  in  Canada." 
J.  B.  Mackenzie.  Toronto :  The  Hunter, 
Rose  Company,  Limited.     1B96. 

Digitized  b,GbOgle 



%a.x\  Indian  still  celebrates  what  he 
Is  dinces.  Here  the  war  whoop, 
irgetic  and  abrupt  at  onset,  with  its 
ill  sustained  crescendo,  its  uncour- 
lus  rending  of  the  empyrean,  greets 
;  air,  carrying  disquiet,  not  to  say 
Lrm,  to  the  uninitiated  ;  here  the  war 
Dce,  with  its  affluent  bestowal  of  paint 
d  feathers  on  the  performers,  the 
xing  of  the  grotesque  with  the  awful 
its  accompaniments,  with  the  flam- 
\  novelty,  exaggerated  ensemble  of 
itumes  which  do  duty  at  the  function, 
ts  free  indulgence." 
To  appreciate  the  value  of  the  up- 
:ing  of  the  red  man  from  the  lower 
tnes  of  paganism  to  the  brighter 
lieres  of  Christianity,  it  may  be  well  to 
ich  briefly  on  the  pagan  beliefs  of  the 
aadian  Indians  in  the  early  days  of 
ssi on ary  effort.  One  who  lived  among 
;  Iroquois  when  they  were  engaged 
deadly  warfare  with  the  Hurons  on 
;  one  hand  and  the  French  on  the 
icr,  quoted  by  Mr.  David  Boyle, 
chsologist  of  Ontario,'  wrote  on 
;  subject  as  follows  :  "  They  are 
tire  strangers  to  all  religion.  They 
ve  .  .  .  a  Genius  which  they 
t  in  the  place  of  God,  but  they  do 
t  worship  or  present  offerings  to 
n  ;  they  worship  and  present  offer- 
's to  the  Devil,  whom  they  call 
skon  or  Aireskuoni."  Mr.  Boyle, 
wever,  objects  to  the  latter  part  of 
E  statement,  and  says,  "  It  is  well 
own  that  the  Oskons,  Ottikons  or 
cies  of  the  Iroquois  and  Hurons  cor- 
;pond  very  closely  to  the  Manitous 
the  Algonkins,  comprehending  all 
rms  of  supernatural  being,  from  the 
l^hest  to  the  lowest,  with  the  excep- 
in,  possibly,  of  certain  diminutive 
.ries  or  hobgoblins,  and  certain 
ants  and  anomalous  monsters,  who 
pear  under  various  forms,  grotesque 
d  horrible,  in  the  Indian  flreside 
rends. " 
Another  writer*    says  they  had  no 

'"Notes  on  Primitive  Man  in  Ontario." 
ivid  Boyle,  Archaolog-isl  of  Ontario.    1S95. 

'  "  History  of  the  Early  Missions  in 
Eslem  Canada,"  by  Very  Rev,  W.  R.  Har- 
,pp.  41,  41.     Toronto.     1693. 

religion,  having  neither  altars,  priests, 
temples  nor  oblations,  and  whatever 
idea  they  had  of  God  was  so  hazy  and 
obscure  that  it  comes  not  within  the 
range  of  definition.  They,  however, 
believed  in  the  existence  of  good  and 
bad  spirits,  and  to  appease  the  one  and 
draw  upon  themselves  the  favour  of  the 
other,  offered  sacrifices  on  the  slight- 
est provocation.  Tobacco  was  thrown 
into  the  fire  with  the  hope  that  its 
smoke  would  be  pleasing  to  an  Oki, 
and  oil  poured  upon  the  water  when  a 
storm  threatened,  with  an  appeal  to 
the  Manitou  to  have  pity  on  them." 
Elsewhere,DeanHarnswrites :  "They 
had  no  idea  of  God  as  we  understand 
the  word.  The  sighing  of  the  winds, 
the  melancholy  moan  of  the  midnight 
forest,  the  clash  of  thunder,  the  gleam 
of  lightning,  were  the  voices  of  the 
shadow-phantoms  that  hovered  in  the 
air  around  them.  Every  lake,  stream 
and  waterfall,"  the  account  goes  on  to 
state,  "every  rock,  cliff  and  mountain, 
every  object  even  of  their  own  handi- 
work had  its  spirit.  Asleep  or  awake, 
and  always,  the  Indian  was  in  close 
contact  with  the  spirit  world.  Besides 
these,  he  had  a  guardian  Oki  or  Mani- 
tou to  whom  he  attributed  power  to 
protect  him  and  to  bring  him  good 
luck  when  engaged  in  warfare  or  hunt- 
ing. Such  an  Oki  was  usually  that  of 
some  animal  that  appeared  to  him  dur- 
ing one  of  his  voluntarily  prolonged 
fasts  during  boyhood  undertaken  for 
the  express  purpose  of  seeing  some- 
thing." If  a  bear,  he  henceforth  car- 
ried a  bear's  claw  as  his  medicine  or 
fetich  \  if  a  wolf,  its  tail  or  its  tooth  ; 
if  a  hawk  or  a  woodpecker  one  or 
more  of  the  feathers.  The  red  man's 
ideas  of  immortality  were  peculiar. 
Not  only  would  he  himself  reach  the 
happy  hunting  ground  of  the  departed, 
but  there  he  hoped  to  find  the  ghosts 
of  everything  earthly — woods,  rivers, 
beasts,  birds  and  fish,  clubs,  knives, 
bows  and  arrows,  wampum  and  clay 

So  much  for  the  pagan  Indians  of 
the  early  days  of  Canada.  The  present 
conditions  of  the  red  man  of  the  Six 
Nations  Reserve,  who  is  sttU  a  pagan, 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



is  diflerent.  "  He  remains,"  to  quote 
once  more  from  Mr.  Mackenzie," 
"  deplore  it  as  we  may,  an  invincible 
devotee  of  Manitou,  the  Great  Spirit, 
at  once  string^ent  and  reg^ular  in  his 
observance  of  the  rites  the  relation  im- 
poses. There  has  been  an  undoubted 
decline  in,  if  not  a  positive  discontinu- 
ance of,  his  once  pronounced  veneration, 
falling  short,  in  the  case  of  the  Six 
Nations,  of  the  revolting  worship  of 
images  as  symbolic  of  some  ultra-mar- 
vellous virtue,  that  was  thought  cap- 
able, at  their  caprice,  of  being  enlisted 
ia  their  service  ;  of  some  extravagant 
power,  through  their  meditation,  forced 
to  react  upon,  human  affairs  .  .  ,  Re- 
sisting the  mutations  of  time,  however, 
there  linger  memories  of  his  gloomy 
tenets;  there  are,  at  the  expenditure  of 
much  and  careful  effort,  but  too  fre- 
quently, erected,  monuments  to  fatu- 
ousness and  credulity,  in  the  designs 
that  decorate  specimens  of  his  handi- 
work. ,  .  It  !s  no  novel  exercise  for 
him,  when  perfecting  samples  of  the 
elaborate  wood  carving  in  which  he  is 
so  strikingly  proficient,  to  engrave  as 
the  central  feature  of  his  production, 
some  unnatural  human  figure,  planned 
evidently  to  represent  one  of  the  afore- 
time conjurors  with  Indian  destinies, 
one  of  those  mystic  wielders,  deft  con- 
trollers, of  spells  and  charms.  Can  it 
fail  to  excite  wonder  that  such  refine- 
ments upon  bideousness  and  repulsive- 
ness  as  are  these  eHigies,  should  to  the 
comprehension  of  any,  have  stood  for 

"  The  Six-Nations  Indians  in  Canada.  J. 
B,  Mackenzie.  Toronto  :  The  Hunter,  Rose 
Company,  Ltd.  1696. 

transcendent    efficacy,    betokened   an 
overruling  might ! " 

To  sum  up,  the  story  of  the  pagans 
of  Canada,  black  and  awful  and  dyed 
with  blood  as  it  has  been  in  the  past,  is 
full  of  cheerful  hope  for  the  future.  The 
Queen's  representatives  in  Canada 
have  known  how  to  keep  faith  with 
and  earn  the  confidence  of  the  red 
men,  and  the  servants  of  the  Most 
High  have  shrunk  from  no  sacrifice  to 
perform  their  self-imposed  duty  of 
winning  the  pagans.  There  are  still 
roving  bands  of  red  men  of  the  plains 
and  forest  of  the  far  Northwest,  who 
sullenly  hold  hack  from  improvement, 
but  for  every  tribe  that  resists,  a  dozen 
or  more  have  turned  to  the  light. 
Where  a  hundred  red  men  refuse  to 
allow  their  children  to  be  educated  in 
the  language  and  ways  of  the  pale-&ce, 
a  thousand  now  gladly  welcome  the 
school,  the  hospital  and  the  rewards  of 
advancing  civilization.  Another  decade 
of  progress  such  as  the  past  decade 
has  witnessed  and  the  pagan  dances 
will  be  numbered  to  a  great  extent 
among  the  memories  of  the  past,  and 
the  Indians  in  the  mass  will  scarcely 
be  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the 
labouring  population  in  anything  but 
the  name  and  the  hereditary  outward 
stamp  of  their  race. 

In  the  compilalion  or  this  article,  ihe  author 
is  greatly  indebted  for  facilities  and  authori- 
ties 10  J.  D.  McLean,  Esq.,  Secretary  of  the 
Department  of  Indian  Affairs,  and  B.  Suite, 
Esq.,  the  well-known  French-Canadian  his- 
torian ;  to  the  official  archaeologrical  reports 
of  David  Boyle,  Esq.,  Archaolo^st  of  the 
Province  of  Ontario,  and  the  various  authors 

Digitized  by  Google 


By  W.  A.  Fraser,  Author  of  "  The  Eye  of  a  God,"  Etc. 

A  FEW  thousand  years  a§^o  the 
Atlantic  battered  a  pocket  into 
the  rock  coast  of  New  Brunswick,  and 
long  after,  when  men  found  this  arm  of 
the  sea,  they  called  it  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 
Then  they  started  a  city,  and  named  it 
St.  John. 

St.  John  was  founded  for  the  glorifi- 
cation of  Nathan  Weller,  and  to  the 
end  that  he  might  become  rich.  He 
firmly  believed  this,  and  shaped  his  life 
accordingly.  That  was  the  only  thing 
he  did  believe  in  ;  that  and  Old  Man 
Weller.  Ships  and  tugs  and  loading 
gear  and  the  souls  of  men  of  the  sea 
were  all  his. 

He  was  as  hard  as  a  dry  salt  cod. 
When  his  sailors  were  drowned,  that 
was  their  lookout ;  and  the  underwrit- 
ers paid  for  the  boats.  When  they 
came  back  into  port  with  cargoes  of 
much  profit,  it  was  alt  his,  and  to  the 
glory  of  his  extreme  cleverness. 

Much  of  this  sort  of  thing  makes  a 
man  like— like- Old  Man  Weller. 

If  Weller  could  have  hired  Satan,  he 
would  have  had  him  and  kept  him  in 
his  place,  too,  but  Satan  was  not  in 
the  labour  market,  at  least  not  his  entire 
services,  so  Old  Man  Weller  had  to  be 
content  with  Jim  Lester. 

When  Weller  sent  Lester  to  Liver- 
pool, Captain  Bell,  who  was  given  to 
psychological  research,  said  :  "  What 
the  devil's  up  now  ?  There's  some 
quare  work  to  be  did  over  there."  But 
wondering  and  finding  out  were  two 
quite  different  things,  and  nobody 
knew  except  Weller  and  Lester,  until 
as  it  is  written  at  the  end  of  this  tale, 
Lester  bought  the  Santa  Maria,  a 
sailing  ship  of  600  tons  register.  She 
was  an  old  hulk,  but  Lester  had  not 
gone  to  Liverpool  to  make  mistakes. 
She  was  overhauled,  and  her  name 
altered  to  Dumfries  Castle.  When 
she  cleared  from  Liverpool  the  under- 
writers had  been  touched  for  every  shil- 

ling they  would  risk  on  hulk  and  cargo. 
Now  Lester's  correspondence  to  Old 
Man  Weller  anent  the  ship  was  cir- 
cumspect to  a  degree.  No  suspicion 
of  obliquity  could  be  read  in  or  between 
the  lines  ;  simply  the  new  ship,  Dum- 
fries Castle,  had  cleared  with  a  full 
cargo  all  duly  insured.  He  even  omit- 
ted to  mention  her  original  name. 

It  was  Christmas  morning  in  St. 
John  when  Old  Weller  said  to  Captain 

'  *  The  tug  Lion,  that  went  down  the 
bay  after  a  wreck,  has  blowed  a  bole 
in  her  boiler.  She's  a  crazy  thing  any- 
way— worse  than  a  rickety  old  woman. 
She's  lyin'  down  there  rollin'  about  like 
a  jellyfish,  an'  eatin'  into  the  profits  at 
the  rate  of  twenty  dollars  a  day." 

"  That's  bad,  sir,"  said  Captain  Bell, 
thinking  of  the  soft  job  the  boys  aboard 
had,  but  wishing  to  mollify  the  rapa- 
cious owner.  "  She  ought  to  have  a 
new  boiler  in  her." 

"  Boiler  be  hanged  !  "  cursed  the  old 
man;  "you're  all  happy  schemin'  to 
pile  up  expenses  on  your  owners.  Get 
you  the  Jane  Ann  out,  an'  away  down 
an'  bring  the  rotten  tub  in.  i'U  dis- 
charge every  mother's  son  of  the  lazy 

Captain  Bell  cast  a  net  for  his  men 
and,  getting  up  steam  on  the  tug, 
started  down  the  bay.  Just  as  he  was 
clearing  from  the  wharf  Pilot  Carey 
asked  for  a  free  passage  down  in  hope 
that  he  might  pick  up  a  ship  needing 
his  services.  "  Of  coorse,"  assented 
Bell.     "Getaboord." 

About  fifteen  miles  out  he  met  the 
Lion  coming  along  under  full  steam 
with  her  ship  in  tow.  By  some  means 
they  had  patched  up  her  boiler,  and 
were  making  for  port.  The  Jane  Ann 
stopped  her  engines,  reversed,  and 
slowly  drifted  as  the  Lion  passed  close. 
"  Where  are  you  bound  ?  "  sang  out 
Bailey  from  the  Lion. 


Digitized  byGoOgIC 



"Came  down  after  you,"  answered 
Bell.     "The   ould   man   heard  you'd 
broke  down,  an'  he's  pinin'  away  over 
the  loss.     D'ye  want  help  ?  " 
"  No." 

"  Well,  I'll  away  down  the  bay  then 
to  the  south'ard,  an'  look  for  a  bite," 
answered  Bell.  "  Tell  the  ould  man." 
The  bell  tinkled  full  steam  ahead, 
and  the  Jane  Ann  swung  her  nose  sea- 
ward on  a  prospecting  tour  for  ships 
needing  a  tow  up.  Being  under  steam 
and  that  far  out,  the  Captain  reasoned 
that  it  would  be  good  management  to 
try  to  pick  up  something  to  pay  ex- 

Two  hours'  steady  steaming,  when 
suddenly  the  Captain  descried  some- 
thing on  his  starboard  bowlooking  very 
much  like  a  ship  on  the  rocks.  "  I 
believe  that's  a  wreck,"  he  said  to  the 
pilot,  who  was  at  his  elbow. 

The  latter  took  the  glass  from  the 
Captain's  hand,  looked  long  and  earn- 
estly, and  answered  :  "  Right  you  are. 
It's  a  ship  high  and  dry." 

The  wheel  was  put  over  a  bit ;  the 
engine  chucked  and  thumped  in  its 
worn  bearings,  and  the  Jane  Ann 
steadily  crawled  close  to  the  thing  they 
had  seen. 

"She's  not  on  the  rocks  at  all,"  re- 
marked the  Captain,  eyeing  her  critic- 
ally ;  she's  just  ridin'  to  the  two 
anchors  as  quiet  as  a  duck." 

"  There's  not  a  soul  on  her  decks," 
exclaimed  the  pilot,  much  wonder  in 
his  voice. 

"  Blow  the  whistle,  Bilfy,"  cried  the 
Captain  to  one  of  the  tug  hands;  "per- 
haps they're  eatin'  their  Christmas  din- 

The  shrill  whistle  of  the  tug  called 
to  the  great  ship,  but  there  was  no 
answer — no  sign  of  life. 

"  Gad  I  it's  like  a  ghost  ship,"  said 
Bell  with  a  touch  of  awe  in  his  voice. 
"  Give  her  another  toot,  Billy." 

Again  the  steam  screamed  and  strug- 
gled  through  the  brass  dome  of  the 
whistle,  but  still  there  was  no  response. 
"  She's  abandoaed,"   remarked  the 

"She's  like  a  graveyard,"  echoed 
the  pilot. 

"  I  believe  it's  a  ha'oted  ship,  sir," 
hazarded  Billy. 

"Work  the  Jane  alongside,"  com- 
manded Belt,  "an'  we'll  soon  see." 

When  they  were  close  enough  Billy 
threw  a  line  across  the  bow  of  the 
ship.  Bell  watched  this  performance 

"  She's  solid,"  he  ejaculated  with  a 
sigh  of  relief.  "  I  half  expected  to  see 
the  line  go  clean  through  her  an' 
down  into  the  water.  She's  like  a 
spirit  ship,  she's  that  quiet.  Up  you 
go,  Billy,  an'  make  fast,"  he  ordered. 

As  the  man  clambered  over  the  rail 
and  snubbed  the  line,  Pilot  Carey  fol- 
lowed eagerly  ;  and  before  the  Captain 
well  realized  what  his  mission  was, 
this  wide  awake  mariner  was  screech- 
ing,  "  I  claim  salvage  on  this  ship  ! " 

This  galvanized  Bell  into  action  and, 
ranging  himself  alongside  of  the  man 
who  had  sought  to  forestall  him,  he 
called  out:  "I'm  with  you,  my  smart 
buck  ;  1  claim  salvage  for  myself,  an' 
the  men,  an'  the  tug." 

It  was  an  extraordinary  spectacle  : 
the  great  ship  riding  quietly  at  anchor, 
with  six  inches  of  snow  all  over  her 
deck,  and  her  stern  almost  brushing 
against  the  rocks  that  arose  out  of  the 
sea  not  halfa  cable-length  away. 

They  were  all  wrangling  as  to  who 
was  entitled  to  salvage — who  was  first 
and  who  was  last — when  the  engineer, 
Jack  O'Brien,  made  a  discovery. 
"None  of  youse'll  get  salvage,  I'm 
thinkin',"  he  said  ;  ' '  here's  a  cat-track 
in  the  snow ;  and  while  there's  life  on 
the  ship  there's  no  salvage,  for  she's 
not  abandoned,  accordin'  to  the 

"That's  right,"  echoed  the  pilot; 
"Billy's  right.  If  there's  a  parrot  or 
a  cat,  or  even  a  pig  on  the  ship,  we're 
done  for.  But  in  the  name  o'  Heaven, 
Where's  all  the  crew  gone — there's 
nothing  wrong  with  the  ship  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  there  in  the  cabin,"  ven- 
tured Billy;  "anyway,  the  cat'll  be 

"  Let's  go  down  an'  see,"  said  Bell 
to  the  pilot.  The  latter  didn't  relish 
the  invitation  overmuch  ;  the  cabin 
might  be  full  of  dead  men,   or  ghosts. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



or  almost  anything.  All  the  weird  sea 
tales  he  had  ever  heard  about  murdered 
ship's  crews  came  thronging:  in  upon 
his  excited  imagination ;  but  still  he 
couldn't  well  remain  behind.  The 
Captain  might  steal  a  march  on  him 
over  the  salvage  question. 

"  Lead  on,"  he  said  valiantly  to 
Bell;  "we  must  investigate  this." 

His  legs  felt  hopelessly  inadequate 
as  he  followed  the  Captain  cautiously 
down  the  companion-way.  Billy  and 
Jack  O'Brien  were  at  his  elbow.  The 
cabin,  dimly  lighted,  wa.s  as  silent  as  a 
tomb  ;  nothing  moved,  no  one  spoke  ; 
no  challenging  voice  demanded  what 
they  wanted  ;  if  a  voice  had  suddenly 
broken  the  eerie  stillness  it  is  certain 
they  would  have  fled  up  the  stairs. 
The  Captain  surreptitiously  pinched 
his  leg  to  make  sure  it  was  not  all  a 

"Look,  man  I  what's  that?"  ex- 
claimed the  pilot  in  a  voice  of  intense 

"What's  what?"  asked  the  Cap- 

"There  I"  and  Carey  pointed  with 
outstretched  finger  to  the  farther  end 
of  the  table.  A  pair  of  great  yellow, 
baleful  eyes  was  glaring  at  them  from 
the  Captain's  chair.  They  stood  for 
an  instant,  constrictive  little  gripings 
clutching  at  the  skin  over  their  back- 
bones, when  suddenly  the  thing 
"  meowed." 

"It's  the  blasted  cat  1 "  ejaculated 
Billy  in  a  tone  of  disgust. 

"  Heave  him  overboard,"  said  Bell 
to  the  pilot,  "  if  you  hope  to  get  sal- 

"1  can't,"  answered  Carey,  "do  it 

Just  then  Jack  O'Brien  made  a  rush 
for  the  cat.  There  was  a  demoniac 
scramble  ;  the  table  went  over  with  a 
crash  ;  chairs  were  banged  about ;  the 
pilot  was  upset  by  something  or  some- 
body ;  unearthly  screams  rang  through 
the  cabin,  and  the  Captain  swore 
afterward  that  he  smelt  brimstone.  At 
any  rate,  in  eight  seconds  Bell  found 
himself  standing  in  the  snow  on  the 
deck,  and  the  pilot  half  over  the  rail 
on  his  way  to  the  tug. 

"Come  back — where  are  you  go- 
ing? "  the  Captain  called. 

"It's  a  devil-ship,"  gasped  Carey, 
turning  a  face  the  colour  of  a  soap- 
stoned  canvas  toward  his  friend. 

O'Brien  was  standing  on  the  deck 

"Where's  the  cat?"  asked  the 

"The  divil  flew  away  wid  her,  I 
think,"  answered  O'Brien,  "for  she's 
not  on  the  ship  now." 

"That  settles  it,  then,"  asserted  his 
officer;   "I  claim  salvage  for  all  hands." 

Haunted  or  not  haunted,  he  reasoned 
that  the  ship  was  solid  enough  ;  and 
visions  of  great  prize  money  passed 
through  his  mind. 

Again  they  ventured  down  into  the 
cabin  and  searched  diligently,  but  there 
was  not  a  soul  on  the  ship. 

"  What's  the  name  of  her?  "  asked 
the  Captain,  a  thought  striking  him 

"The  Santa  Maria,"  answered  the 
pilot,  who  had  been  rummaging  in  a 
cabin.     "  Here  it  is  marked  on  a  life- 

"Well,"  said  Bell  cheerfully,  "it's 
a  big  haul,  b'ys  ;  an'  now  we've  got 
to  get  her  out  of  here  before  anybody 
appears  or  a  blow  comes  up." 

But  this  latter  proposition  presented 
an  unexpectedly  serious  problem. 
They  were  too  short-handed  to  man 
the  ship  and  get  her  anchors  up.  But 
the  commander  was  equal  to  the  new 
emergency.  "Billy,"  he  satd  "you 
an'  the  pilot  stay  here  an'  hold  the 
ship,  an'  we'll  away  down  to  Irishtowo 
with  the  tug,  for  a  dozen,  big,  lusty 
Irishmen  to  help  us  out." 

It  was  ten  miles  to  Irishtown,  and 
when  the  tug  returned  with  twelve 
rough  fishermen  aboard,  ready  for 
anything,  her  Captain  got  a  surprise. 
As  the  Jane  Ann  rolled  clumsily  around 
the  rock  headland,  beyond  which  was 
the  little  cove  wherein  rested  the  prize- 
ship,  he  saw  something  which  brought 
him  to  the  rail  with  a  proper  marin- 
er's adjective  on  his  lips. 

On  board  the  ship  a  battle  was  be- 
ing waged.  Five  men  were  industri- 
ously striving  to  deposit  Billy  and  the 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


pilot  in  the  lea.     The  two  were  fig^ht*  sion — an'  we 

iDg  valiantly,  but  the  tug  pulled  along-  your  rifF-raif 

side  just  in  the  nick  of  time.  quiet  like,  ai 

As  she  rubbed    saucily    against  the  ours  !  " 
wooden  sides  of  the    banta    Maria,  a  A  hawser 

bi^,  red-faced  man  stepped  to  the  rail  Jane  Ann  pi 

and    said  :    "  Sheer  off !     What    the  the  trace,  an 

devil  do  you  want  here  ?  "  away  from 

"Who    the    thunder     are    you?"  were   weighi 

roared    back  the  commander    of   the  started  for  f 
tug.  Just  wher 

"I'm  the  Captain,"  snorted  the  red-  latitude  bise 

faced  man  ;  "and  I  forbid  ye  to  come  was  the  hap 

aboard."  the  face  of  tl 

"  Captain  nothing"  I  retorted  Belt,  red-faced    oi 

' '  The  Captain  an'  crew  of  this  ship  is  The  pilot  wa 

all  drowned."  Maria.     Pon 

"  Not  much  !     I'm  the  Captain,  an'  down    the   q 

this  is  the  crew,"  asserted  the  other.  in  his  mind  i 

"  A  Captain  an'  his  crew  don't  desert  cargo,    and 

their    ship,"    declared    Bell    logically.  come  to  him 
"  I  tell  you  they  are  all   dead ;  an'  if         Captain  Bi 

they're   not    they  soon    will    be.      Up,  prize  proudb 

boys  "  !  he  exclaimed  to  his  recruits,  the  wake  of 

"an'    if    anybody    opens  his    mouth,  "  Lord  knov 

throw  him  overboard."  mused.      "C 

His  men  swarmed  over  the  rail  and  pleased  he'll 

joined  Billy  and  the  pilot.     The  others  ships,  I  do  b 

massed  back  on  the  poop  of  the  ship,  thing  I  ever 

standing     sullenly,    waiting    for  com-  the  bay  this 

mands  from  their  leader.  mas  box  wit 

"Where   did    these    tramps    come         "Then  he 

from,  Robinson  ?  "  asked  Captain  Bell,  big  moon-fai 

"  From    the    shore,     sir,"   Billy  an-  to  be  Captai 

swered.  rail  of  the  s)i 

' '  Yes, "  broke  in  the  red-faced  man ;  soon  in  a  cat 

"  we  dragged  our  anchors  in  a    blow  he  said.     " 

last  night,  an'   thought  the  ship  was  him." 
goin'  to  pieces.     We  couldn't  save  her         it  was  bl 

by  sticking  to  her,  so  we  got  ashore  in  into  St.  John 
a  boat."  The  big  ai 

"That's  all  in  me  eye,  Biddy  Mar-  was  dropped 

tin,"  answered  Captain  Bell  derisively;  tied  noisily  I 

"  we  salvaged  this  ship  when  she  was  swung   maje 

abandoned,  an'  the    Captain  an'  crew  rising  tide  ; 

all  drowned.      If  you're    to    stand    up  her   berth    b 

an'  argue  the  matter  there,  we'll  just  smelling  whs 

have  to  make  it  sure,  that's  all."  engine  sighe 

."What  do  you  propose  doin'  with  puff  of  stean 

the  ship  ?"  asked  the    red-faced  man,  pet-cocks, 
beginning   to    weaken    in    the  face  of  The   pilot 

superior   numbers.      "We'll  tow    her  aboard  of  th< 

in  to  St.  John,  an'  if  you  behave  your-  Bell  went  he 

selves  we'll  give  you  a  lift  that  far,  but  the  good  nei 

we're  in  charge,  mind  you — in  posses-  a  wink.     O' 

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Captain  told  the  tale  of  how  something 
bad  whispered  to  him  to  go  on  down 
the  bay  after  meeting  the  old  Lion. 

"  It  was  Santa  Claus,"  ventured  the 
wife  ;  "  or,  perhaps,  Providence," 

"  It  must  have  been  Santa  Claus 
then,"  retorted  the  husband,  "  for  Pro- 
vidence doesn't  bother  much  with  sea- 
dogs.  Look  at  the  hungry  orphans  all 
over  the  towa,  an'  the  fathers  that 
should  be  feedin'  them  linin'  the  stom- 
ach of  some  shark.  We'll  buy  a  tittle 
craft  of  our  own  out  of  our  share,"  he 
assured  the  wife,  "an'  make  money  be 
the  barrel,  just  like  theouldman  does," 

In  the  morning  Bell  was  down  at  the 
office,  waiting  for  his  employer.  "  I'll 
be  the  first  to  tell  him  the  good  news," 
be  thought. 

"Old  jelly-fish'll  soon  be  down," 
said  a  red-headed,  roustabout  clerk 
whose  business  it  was  to  attend  to 
everything  from  codiish  to  insurance. 
"  He'll  be  down  early  this  morning,  for 
fear  Christmas  has  upset  some  of  us  a 

"Tut,  tut  !"  said  the  Captain,  "you 
shouldn't  call  the  ould  man  'jelly-fish'; 
that's  mutiny  ;  he's  not  a  bad  sort." 

The  red-headed  man  was  pouring  a 
scuttle  of  coal  in  the  stove.  He  look- 
ed io  blank,  utter  amazement  at  his 
companion,  and  the  coal,  diverted  from 
the  hole,  pattered  over  the  floor.  That 
anybody  should  defend  Old  Weller's 
character — that  one  of  his  employees 
should  speak  well  of  him — was  a  reve- 

"What's  come  over  you  ?"  he  gasp- 
ed. "  Has  the  old  man  given  you  a 

"Never  mind,  never  mind,"  answer- 
ed Bell  soothingly. 

At  that  moment  a  heavy  step  sound- 
ed, the  latch  lifted  with  a  vicious  rasp, 
and  burly  Old  Man  Weljer  stepped  into 
the  office.  His  cold,  fishy  eyes  search- 
ed the  room  for  signs  of  something 
leading  up  to  business. 

"Good  mornin',  sir,"  cheerily  called 
out  the  Captain  ;  "compliments  of  the 

"  Huh  !"  grunted  Weller.  "What 
did  you  do  yesterday  after  you  passed 
the  Lion  ? — burnt  up  coal,  I  suppose." 

"  We  had  great  luck,  sir,"  exclaim- 
ed the  Captain  blithely. 

"Got  back  without  being  towed, 
eh  ?  "  sneered  the  other. 

"We  salvaged  a  big  ship." 

"You  what?" 

"Salvaged  a  ship,"  repeated  the 
Captain,  "and  towed  her  into  port  last 
night.     The    b'ys    are  aboord    of  her 

The  big  man's  face  brightened  until 
it  became  almost  congenial.  It  was 
little  things  of  this  sort  that  touched 
his  heart. 

Nothing  softened  him  so  much  as 
the  making  of  a  few  thousand  dollars, 
and  it  bad  been  gained  in  a  single  day. 

He  became  almost  human. 

"I'm  proud  of  you,  Captain,"  he 
said,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"Faith,  I'm  proud  of  meself  !  "  eja- 
culated Bell  ingenuously. 

"What's  her  name?"  asked  Weller. 

"The  Santa  Maria." 

"She's  a  Spaniard,  with  that  name. 
There  may  be  Spanish  gold  in  her." 

"  God  knows  ! "  replied  the  Captain ; 
"she's  full  of  something.  I'm  sureit's 
a  valuable  cargo. " 

"  How  is  the  salvage  fixed  ?  "  quer- 
ied Weller.  "Were  you  first  aboard, 
and  did  you  claim  it  in  the  name  of  the 
tug  an'  her  owner?  Is  she  salvaged 
in  my  name?  " 

The  CapUio  explained  the  thing 

"And  who's  this  pilot  you're  crack- 
in'  about  ?  "  the  owner  asked. 

Bell  explained. 

"  Curse  his  meddlin'  hide  !  "  ex- 
claimed Weller.  "  Will  he  be  claimin' 
a  bit  of  the  salvage,  too  ?  " 

"Thai  he  will,"  answered  the  Cap- 
tain. "I  felt  like  thro  win' him  over- 
boo  rd." 

"  It  would  have  been  a  good  rid- 
dance," snapped  the  great  man,  pacing 
impatiently  up  and  down  the  office. 
"Where's  the  ship  now?" 

"  Ridin'  at  anchor  as  sweet  as  a 
babe,  off  Nelson's  dock." 

"  Come  along,  an'  let's  have  a  look 
at  her.  We  can  have  a  tot  of  some- 
thing to  warm  us  up  on  the  way  down," 
said  Weller. 

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' '  My  Au.nt ! "  muttered  the  clerk,  as 
the  two  disappeared  throug^h  the  door ; 
"  the  old  jelly-fish  is  gettiag  gener- 

From  Nelson's  dock  they  g'ot  a  g;ood 
view  of  the  Santa  Maria.  It  gladden- 
ed the  avaricious  heart  of  the  rich  man ; 
it  also  set  him  thinking.  If  the  cargo 
were  as  goad  as  the  hulk  the  satvag'e 
would  be  something'  terrific.  It  would 
be  cruel  to  pay  out  so  much  good  prize 
money  to  a  worthless  lot  of  fellows 
who  would  drink  it  up  and  be  unfit  for 
work  in  the  meantime. 

His  big  brain  hammered  away  at 
this  point  until  it  developed  a  plan. 

' '  Huh !  "  he  said,  thoughtfully  ; 
' '  we'll  never  get  a  dollar  of  salvage  on 
yon  ship.  The  owners  will  fight  it  in 
court  till  we're  all  in  our  graves.  I 
know  what  that's  like." 

Bell's  face  fell.  Courts  are  the  ter- 
ror of  all  mariners.  There  was  some 
dependence  to  be  placed  in  a  raging 
storm  ;  one  could  tell  pretty  near  what 
it  was  going  to  do  ;  but  a  law  court, 
with  solemn  judges  and  fierce,  ques- 
tioning lawyers — that  was  terrible  in 
its  uncertainty  I- 

Twice  the  Captain  had  been  in  the 
courts,  each  time  for  battering  mutin- 
ous sailors  over  the  head  with  a  belay- 
ing pin,  and  each  time  he  had  been 
roasted  and  toasted  by  a  shrill-voiced 
attorney  until  he  had  wished  to  Heaven 
that  he  had  been  at  the  other  end  of 
the  belaying-pin  himself.  He  fairly 
envied  the  men  with  the  mashed  heads  ; 
their  punishment  had  been  light  com- 
pared with  the  tortures  of  the  court  in- 
quisition. In  the  end  he  had  been 
fined  ;  also  assured  by  the  Judge  that 
he  had  just  missed  going  to  jail. 

"The  courts  are  the  very  devil," 
continued  the  owner. 

"  They're  that,  sir  I  "  fervently  echo- 
ed the  Captain.  "  I'd  rather  be  in  a 
cyclone  in  the  Jane  Ann,  an'  that's  bad 
enough. " 

"The  Jane  Ann's  a  good  sea-boat," 
exclaimed  Weller,  angrily. 

Bell  said  nothing,  and  the  big  man 
continued  in  a  soft  voice  ;  "Come  up 
to  the  office  till  we  talk  this  thing 

On  the  way  he  invited  the  Captair 
into  the  Mariner's  Rest  again,  &a6 
treated  him  to  two  diplomatic  toddies. 
At  the  office  he  unburdened  his  mind. 

"  It'll  be  a  big  fight  over  that  sal- 
vage. I  don't  think  it'll  be  good 
enough  to  risk.  Have  you  an'  the  boy! 
money  to  pay  for  the  litigation  ?  " 

' '  Money  for  law  I "  exclaimed  tht 
Captain.  "Money  with  the  b'ys  fei 
law  I  Sure  they're  all  overdrawn  ir 
the  slop  chest." 

"  An'  you'll  expect  me  to  pay  the  big 
court  fees,  eh  ?  I'll  not  do  it — not  t 
blasted  penny  I " 

The  Captain's  heart  was  in  his  boots. 
He  knew  the  old  man  would  lose  a 
hundred  dollars  rather  than  see  one  ol 
them  make  fifty,  he  was  that  selfish. 

"  But,  sir,"  said  Bell,  despondently; 
"  I  think  the  coorts  would  give  it  U 

"When  you  are  in  your  graves,' 
snapped  the  big  man ;  "  an'  then  i: 
the  owners  said  they'd  had  enough. 
They'll  never  say  that,  though.  1  knott 
them.  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  Bell ' 
— the  red-headed  clerk  pricked  up  his 
ears  as  he  stood  beside  his  desk,  listen' 
ing  to  the  inquisition.  "You've  aL 
ways  been  a  faithful  servant  to  me — i 
good  man — an'  1  never  go  back  on  i 
faithful  servant." 

The  clerk  smiled  sardonically  as  he 
bent  his  bead  close  down  over  th< 
men's  time  sheets,  where  he  had  beer 
busy  cutting  from  their  pay  the  slop' 
chest  account. 

"  ril  help  you  out  of  this  matter  i 
you'll  deal  fair.  If  you'll  sign  off  youi 
own  claim,  an'  get  the  men  to  sign  of 
I'll  give  every  one  of  them  twenty 
pounds,  an'  you  fifty  for  your  trouble.' 

"You'll  never  get  them  to  agre< 
to  that,  sir,"  said  Bell,  decisively 
"they're  that  built  up  over  it." 

"Then  they'll  not  get  the  price  of  e 
red  herring  out  of  it,"  exclaimed  Wei 
ler,  angrily.  "  I'll  discharge  ever] 
mother's  sonof  you  for  disobey  in' order: 
in  goin'  down  the  bay." 

He  filled  a  black-bottomed  clay  pipi 
and  sat  sullenly  sucking  the  rank  smokt 
through  its  strong  stem.  Belt  knev 
that  mood  ;    it  meant  unreasoning  oh 

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stiaacy.  Right  or  wrong  didn't  mat- 
ter ;  it  was  the  power  of  money  and 
influence  behind  a  selfish,  grasping 

Men  said  that  Weller  was  entirely 
bloodless — that  he  considered  his  fel- 
lows simply  as  tools  to  be  used  in 
building  up  his  edifice  of  wealth.  They 
were  absolutely  right. 

"I  couldn't  go  to  them  with  that 
offer,  sir,"  said  the  Captain,  breaking 
the  ominous  silence.  "They'd  never 
take  it." 

"  I  should  think  not,"  muttered  the 
clerk  to  himself,  dabbing  his  pen  vici- 
ously to  the  ink.      "The  old  shark  I '' 

Weller  didn't  answer  at  once,  but 
sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ceiling, 
as  though  the  whole  matter  were  one 
of  complete  indifference  to  him. 

"  Where  are  the  men  you  said 
boarded  the  ship  an'  claimed  to  be  the 
crew  P  I  ought  to  hear  their  story 
before  1  pay  out  even  twenty  pounds 
apiece.     I  might  lose  it  all." 

This  was  a  veiled  threat ;  Bell  knew 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said.  "  I  sup- 
pose they're  somewhere  about."  He 
knew  right  enough,  but  he  had  no 
intention  of  playing  the  old  man's 
game  if  he  could  help  it. 

"  Never  mind,"  exclaimed  Weller 
magnanimously  ;  "  I  don't  want  to  be 
hard. " 

"Of  course  not,  of  course  notl" 
muttered  the  clerk ;  you're  soft  as 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  I'll  make 
it  fifty  pounds  apiece,  an'  give  you  a 
hundred  for  yourself.  Go  an'  see  the 
boys,  an'  if  they'll  sign  off  all  claims 
fqr  that  I'll  pay  them  cash  out  of  hand 
an'  take  my  chances,  win  or  lose,  in 
the  courts  with  the  owners.  If  they 
don't  agree,  I'll  fight  on  the  other  side, 
an'  we'll  see  who  comes  out  on  top." 

He  rose,  knocked  the  ashes  out  of 
his  pipe  with  sharp,  vicious  taps  on  the 
top  of  the  stove,  buttoned  up  his  pea- 
jacket,  and,  with  his  square  jaw  set 
like  a  capstan,  put  his  hand  on  the 
latch  and,  as  he  opened  the  door,  said: 
"I'm  going  home  to  dinner;  I'll  be 
back  in  an  hour.     If  the  boys  are  will- 

ing to  take  the  good  offer  I've  made, 
have  them  here,  an'  we'll  settle  the 
thing  in  five  minutes.  If  they're  not 
willing,  tell  them  to  clear  out  of  the 
ship,  or  I'll  send  the  police  aboard  to 
remove  them." 

His  burly  figure  rolled  out  of  the 
door  and,  as  it  slammed  to,  the  clerk 
put  his  pen  behind  his  ear,  came 
around  the  rough  pine  desk  and  stand- 
ing opposite  the  Captain,  said  mock- 
ingly, "The  old  man's  not  a  bad  sort." 

"  He's  as  hard  as  a  second-hand 
clothes-dealer,"  muttered  Bell,  staring 
moodily  into  the  fire.  "  The  b'ys'll 
not  take  it." 

"Then  they'll  take  nothing,"  ex* 
claimed  Red  Head.  "  It's  fair  robbery, 
but  they  can't  fight  against  that  sort 
of  thing.  It's  your  choice  between  the 
devil  and  the  deep  sea.  He'll  hunt  up 
that  scab  crew  and  break  every  one  of 
you.  I  know  him.  He's  a  beastly  bad 
sort,  that's  what  he  is." 

"  You  think  I'd  better  advise  the 
boys  to  take  the  fifty  pounds  P  " 

1  think  nothing — but  it's  all  they'll 
ever  get  ;  and  they'll  have  to  look 
sharp  that  he  doesn't  skin  them  out  of 

"I  believe  you're  right,  Bankcs," 
said  the  Captain.  "I'll  go  off  an'  tell 
them  to  take  it." 

"  Wait  a  bit — try  for  more.  Agree 
to  that,  with  another  fifty  all  around 
and  a  hundred  for  yourself  if  the  old 
man  secures  the  salvage.  Have  it 
hard  and  fast  in  writing.  Get  a  lawyer 
to  draw  it  up." 

"I'll  have  to  hurry," exclaimed  Bell, 
"to  be  back  on  time." 

In  an  hour  the  Captwa  and  the  crew 
of  the  Jane  Aon  were  back  in  the 
office,  and,  sharp  on  time,  the  ovraer 
brusqued  in. 

"  Good  day  to  you,  boys,"  he  said, 
friendly  enough.  "Good  day,  sa\" 
they  responded,  cap  in  hand.  "You 
had  rare  fishin'  yesterday,"  he  con- 
tinued with  forced  geniality. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Well?"  he  asked,  looking  inter- 
rogatively at  Captain  Bell.  The  Captain 
coughed  to  clear  his  throat,  pulled  the 
lining  in  and  out  of  his  cap  nervously. 

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aod  stammered  :  "We've  been  talldn' 
it  over,  sir." 

"That's  right,"  snapped  Weller  en- 

"We've  been  talking  it  over,  an' 
the  boys  think  it's  not  enough,  sir." 

"  What  are  they  doing  here,  then?" 

"Well,  we  thought,  sir,  that  we'd 
like  to  make  an  offer  that  appeared 
fair,  not  wantin'  to  be  hard  like  on 
our  side." 

The  clerk  nodded  encouragingly  at 
the  speaker,  who  was  watching  him 
out  of  the  comer  of  his  eye. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you — never  mind; 
spit  it  out  I  Let's  have  it  I  You  have 
queer  ideas  of  what's  fair,  I've  no 

"Well,  sir,  the  boys'll  take  fifty 
pounds  apiece,  as  you  offered,  an'  I'll 
take  a  hundred  ;  an*  if  you  get  the 
salvage,  they're  to  have  another  fifty, 
an'  I'm  to  have  another  hundred." 

There  was  silence  for  a  minute,  like 
the  lull  before  a  storm.    \^  _^  jO  t,r '"i 

Weller  scowled  viciously  at  the 
men,  who  shifted  uneasily.  All  at 
once  he  made  a  discovery. 

"  Where's  the  pilot — I  don't  see 
him  ?  " 

"  He  wouldn't  agree  to  it,  sir.  He 
says  he'll  have  the  salvage  or  nothing, 
so  we  left  him  behind." 

"  Where  is  he?  " 

"  On  the  ship." 

"I'll  fix  himl"  said  the  big  man 
fiercely  ;  "  an'  I'll  just  show  him  what 
he's  missed.  Come  here,  Bankes  I " 
he  commanded  the  clerk.  "Draw  up 
an  agreement  with  these  men  an*  the 
Captain  in  accordance  with  the  bargain 
you've  just  heard.  I'll  show  Mr.  Pilot 
— he'll  not  get  a  blasted  penny." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  Captain. 
"Thank  you,  sir,"  chimed  the  others, 
individually  and  in  chorus. 

"An'  make  out  checks  to  pay  the 
amounts,"  Weller  added.  In  an  hour 
it  was  all  settled. 

"I've  done  a  great  stroke  of  busi- 
ness this  day,"  muttered  the  ship  king 
to  himself  when  the  men  had  gone. 
"I've  only  one  to  fight ;  I'll  break  him." 

"Get  me  a  boat,"  he  ordered  the 
clerk;  "an'  come  away  aboard  ship 

till  I  see  what  she's  like,  an'  settle 

As  Weller  clambered  like  a  g 
bear  over  the  rail  of  the  ship,  he 
a  big  red-faced  man  walking  impati 
ly  up  and  down  the  deck. 

"  Who  are  you,  my  good  fellov 
he  asked. 

"  I'm  the  Captain  of  the  ship  D 
fries  Castle,"  the  man  answered  tot 
ing  his  cap. 

"The  Dumfries  Castle?  That's 
ship.  Where  is  she — gone  to 
bottom  ?  " 

"No,  sir,  this  is  the  DumI 

Weller  looked  at  the  red-faced  i 
furiously.  He  wasn't  drunk;  hen 
be  mad. 

"This  is  the  Santa  Maria,"  he 
claimed  angrily. 

"  Ves,  sir,  she  was  the  Santa  M 
before  we  went  to  Liverpool ;  but 
changed  owners  there,  and  they  nai 
her  the  Dumfries  Castle." 

A  sense  of  desolation  came  over 
hard,  grasping  ship  owner — and 
wonder — for  he  realized  that  the  Sa 
Maria  was  his  own  ship,  salvagec 
his  own  men.  And  not  two  he 
since  he  had  paid  them  heavily 
thwarting  the  very  scheme  he 
tried  to  carry  through  with  the  hel] 
his  hired  villain  in  Liverpool. 

He   understood    it    all   now, 
Santa  Maria  was  to  have  been  batt< 
on  those  rocks  by  the  first  storm, 
meddling  crew  had  spoiled  that. 

Also  the  red-faced  Captain  kn 
He  had  had  his  instructions  from 
agent  in  Liverpool,  and  this  was 
owner  who  was  to  have  paid  him  m 
good  money  for  something. 

He  looked  in  the  eyes  of  the  ! 
king  and  Weller  looked  back  into 
— and  they  both  knew. 

The  money  Weller  had  just  paid 
was  gone  hopelessly ;  the  insura 
would  not  come  his  way ;  and  tl 
was  the  pilot  to  settle  with.  He  ' 
mad  clean  through.  He  would  fi 
the  pilot  anyway  ;  and  he  did. 

The  pilot  carried  the  case  into  co 
The  crew  of  the  tug  were  called 

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It  was  going  against  Old  Welter. 
There  was  no  doubt  that  they  had  sal- 
vaged the  ship,  whoever  owned  it. 

Billy  Robinson  was  in  the  witness- 

Suddenly  the  old  man's  lawyer,  a 
vicious,  ferret-faced  little  man,  turning 
fiercely  on  the  witness,  said  :  "  Now, 
Mr.  Robinson,  you're  not  telliDg  the 
truth ;   there  was  a  live   cat  on   the 

ship  and  you  threw  her  overboard  P  " 
Thrown  off  his  guard  by  this  sudden 

accusation,     Billy    answered    angrily : 

"That's  a  liel    Jack  O'Brien  threw 

her  over  the  side." 

A   roar  of  laughter    followed    this 

break,   but   the   admission    destroyed 

the  pilot's  clcum. 

There  was  no  salvage  on  the  Santa 


NO.  XV.— THE  REVEREND  T.  C.  S.  MACKLEM,  M.A.,  LL.D. 

IN  a  low,  rambling  house  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  Welland  River,  locally 
known  as  Chippawa  Creek,  the  new 
Provost  of  Trinity  College  and  Vice- 
Chancellor  of  Trinity  University  was 
born.  From  the  verandahs  one  got  a 
view  of  the  Niagara  River  near  by  as 
it  widens  to  form  the  rapids  which  have 
hurried  many  a  boat  and  its  crew  to 
destruction  as  they  tried  without  avail 
to  make  the  mouth  of  the  creek. 

Before  the  Welland  Canal  and  the 
railroads  had  cut  off  its  carrying  trade, 
Chippawa,  like  Queenston,  flourished, 
was  populous  and  wealthy,  and  receiv- 
ed honourable  mention  in  the  war  of 
1813.  Any  trade  which  was  left  to  it 
was  finally  destroyed  by  the  Fenian 
Raid  in  1866,  and  the  town  became  a 
veritable  deserted  village  till  fire  swept 
away  large  numbers  of  empty  houses 
and  thus  relieved  the  loneliness.  So  it 
came  to  pass  that  only  a  few  substan- 
tial dwellings,  belonging  mainly  to  the 
estate  of  the  Bank  of  Upper  Canada, 
alone  remained  to  testify  to  the  former 
prosperity  of  the  town,  until  the  elec- 
tric railway  from  Queenston  brought 
tourists  once  more  and,  with  them, 
renewed  life. 

Any  one  who  has  gone  by  car  or  on 
foot  through  Victoria  Park  must  re- 
member, at  the  rapids,  the  beautiful 
DufFerin  Islands  with  the  swirling 
water  rushing  in  and  out  among  them. 
'  In   earlier  days  they  were  called  the 

Clark  Hill  Islands,  after  Colonel  Clark, 
their  original  owner.  By  him  they 
were  given  to  the  Street  family,  a  name 
not  unknown  in  the  legislative  history 
of  this  province,  and  remembered 
among  the  benefactors  of  Trinity  Uni- 
versity in  connection  with  the  building 
of  Convocation  Hall.  To  this  same 
family  belonged  the  Provost's  mother, 
through  whom  and,  if  I  mistake  not, 
through  his  father  also,  he  claims  the 
proud  distinction  of  U.  E.  Loyalist 

It  matters  much  where  and  in  what 
circumstances  a  man  was  bom — how 
much  he  alone  can  tell  in  after  years 
when  revisiting  the  scenes  of  his  boy- 
hood. If  one  could  choose  his  birth- 
place, I  can  imagine  none  more  attrac- 
tive or  more  likely  to  leave  its  impress 
upon  the  character  than  this  neighbour- 
hood of  three  or  four  of  our  most 
famous  battlefields,  from  which  the  in- 
vaders were  driven  back  over  the  bor- 
der. There,  too,  Niagara  Fails  roll  on 
in  beauty  and  grandeur,  varying  with 
the  season  or  the  play  of  light,  and 
make  their  mighty  music,  sometimes 
as  soft  as  a  mother's  lullaby,  sometimes 
as  sad  and  solemn  as  a  march  for  the 
dead.  And  the  spray  rises  light,  fleecy, 
and  soft  from  the  Horseshoe  in  June, 
but  weeps  drearily  and  disconsolately 
in  November  like  some  living  creature 
that  can  never  find  comfort  anywhere. 

All    these  scenes,   and    the    pret^ 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


of  schooldays  that 
est     the     general  The  Fii 

public,  I  must  pay 

a  tribute  to  the  men  who  are  now  living 
in  retirement  or  who  have  done  with  life 
altogether,  but  who  stood  in  loco  par- 
entis to  generation  after  generation  of 
us— Messrs.  Cockburn,  Buchan,Wedd, 
Martland,  Brown,  and  others.  To  Mr. 
Buchan,  perhaps  more  than  to  any 
one  else  who  had  to  do  with  his  school 
life,  Dr.  Macklem  would  acknowledge 
his  indebtedness.  His  nobility  of  soul, 
his  kindliness,  consideration,  justice, 
and  aptness  to  teach  make  his  JnHuence 
a  living  thing  to  this  day.  Mr.  Cock- 

Canadian  Provost  of  Trinity  College,  Toronto. 

burn's  business  ability,  energy,  and  cap- 
acity for  ruling  ;  Mr.  Martland's  char- 
acter as  a  man  of  the  world,  devotion 
to  duty,  and  unostentatious  helpfulness ; 
Mr.  Wedd's  cheerful  and  sunny  dis- 
position, his  scholarship  and  unaffected 
goodness  ;  Mr.  Brown's  profound  learn- 
ing and  his  patience  in  trying  to  make 
the  unmathematical  mind  comprehend 
the  mysteries  of  mathematics — they  all 
call  up  grateful  memories  and  make 
one  long  to  emulate  their  good  exam- 
ple in  training  men. 

Digitized  byGoOgIc 



In  October,  i8Si,  there  was  a  change 
in  the  principalship,  and  boylike  we 
took  advantage  of  the  fact  to  bring 
about  other  changes  if  possible.  The 
College  Times  had  been  twice  suppress- 
ed, once  for  reasons  best  known  to 
Mr.  Cockburn  and  the  proprietor  of 
the  Evening  Telegram,  and  again, 
some  years  later,  for  causes  somewhat 
similar.  Inspired  by  a  desire  to  express 
their  thoughts  in  print  and  urged  on  by 
"Old  Boys"  at  Varsity,  some  of  the 
seniors  asked  for  permission  to  revive 
the  paper.  After  "considering  the 
matter "  the  Principal  consented  and 
the  paper  appeared  with  T.  C.  S. 
Macklem  as  editor.  A  better  edited 
school  paper  I  have  never  seen,  and  I 
have  seen  many. 

Too  soon  the  delightful  year  in  the 
Sixth,  with  its  interesting  studies, 
games,  squabbles,  and  standing  up  for 
old  institutions,  its  "at-homes,"  and 
all  the  rest  of  it,  came  to  an  end  and 
we  took  our  several  paths,  some  to 
business,  some  to  universities.  One 
crossed  the  ocean  and  entered  at  St. 
John's  College,  Cambridge,  which  has 
already  given  a  Provost  and  two  or 
more  professors  to  Trinity.  There  he 
studied,  rowed,  wheeled,  and  took  his 
degree,  returning  to  Canada  to  be  or- 
dained and  to  become  curate  at  All 
Saints'  Church,  Toronto.  Eighteen 
months  after  his  return  he  received  the 
appointment  to  the  newly  erected  par- 
ish of  St.  Simon  and  built  the  church 
now  in  use.  Two  years  since  he  was 
elected  to  the  oversight  of  the  missions 
in  the  Diocese  of  Toronto  and  a  few 
months  ago  to  the  office  of  Rural  Dean 
of  Toronto.  Both  of  these  responsible 
positions  he  declined,  and  now  he  is 
Provost  of  Trinity  College. 

As  a  member  of  Synod  and  its  com- 
mittees, the  Provost  has  displayed 
tact,  statesmanship,  ability  to  lead,  and 
a  concilitory  spirit.  These  qualities, 
together  with  an  aptitude  for  finance 
and  a  decision  of  character  indispens- 
able in  a  ruler,  admirably  fit  him  for 
his  new  position. 

Canadians   are  glad  to  see  one   of 

themselves  called  to  the  discharge  of 
duties  so  important  as  those  devolving 
upon  the  Head  of  a  University,  and 
many  would  say  that  his  being  a  Cana- 
dian is  not  the  least  of  the  Provost's 
qualifications.  Nattvism  may  run  mad, 
— it  has  run  mad  when  people  have 
begun  to  cry  "  Canada  for  the  Canadi- 
ans." This  cry  is  as  foolish  and  harm- 
ful as  that  other  which  has  been  heard 
at  times,  "No  native  need  apply." 
Coming  years  will  give  us  wealth  and 
consequently  greater  opportunities  for 
acquiring  the  culture  and  grace  of  the 
older  lands.  Our  conditions  hitherto 
have  made  life  and  manners  cruder  and 
rougher  than  our  forefathers'  life  and 
manners  were  when  they  landed  in  the 
country.  To  regain  what  we  have  lost 
we  must  now  and  then  bring  men  from 
abroad.  The  plan  Trinity  has  followed 
this  time  is  the  best— to  get  a  Canadian 
possessed  of  European  training  and 

Character  is  the  main  consideration 
in  the  universities  of  Europe,  learning 
and  research  being  made  to  take  the 
second  place.  To  mould  the  charac- 
ters of  men  and  women  is  the  noblest 
work  a  man  can  be  given  to  do.  Could 
fathers  and  mothers  do  it  unaided,  it 
were  better  perhaps  to  leave  it  to  them. 
But,  as  they  cannot,  we  take  their  sons 
and  daughters  for  three  years  or  four 
and  stand  in  the  place  of  parents  to 
them  throughout  their  course.  We 
cannot  forget,  then,  that  we  owe  to 
this  foster  family  of  ours  duties  far  be- 
yond the  lectures  delivered  in  the 
classrooms.  The  moral  and  spiritual 
part  must  be  cultivated  as  well  as  the 
intellectual.  Trinity  stands  for  the  dis- 
charge of  duties  such  as  these  and, 
through  her  residences,  for  training  stu- 
dents to  live  together  as  members  of  a  so- 
ciety and  to  have  respect  for  one  anoth- 
er's rights.  The  Provost  did  well  to  re- 
member these  aims  which  Trinity  has 
faithfully  pursued  for  forty-eight  years 
when  he  was  stating  his  views  about 
the  future.  She  cannot  give  them  up 
for  temporal  advantage,  and  he,  I  am 
sure,  will  guide  her  wisely. 

A.  H.    Young. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


By  H.   C.   Shelley. 


ITW"HEN  Charlotte  and  Anne  Bronte 
* '  found  themselves  unexpectedly 
n  London  one  Sunday,  their  first 
bought  was  to  devote  the  morning  of 
hat  day  to  hearing  Dr.  George  Croly 
ireach.  Forgotten  to-day  in  the  stress 
>f  newer  reputations  of  an  equally 
leeting  kind,  that  clerical  poet  and 
omancer  was  a  prominent  figure  in 
he  literary  firmament  of  fifty  years 
igo  ;  and  his  fame  had  made  so  deep 
in  impression  in  the  sohtary  parsonage 
It  Haworth  that  it  was  natural  for  the 
wo  sisters  to  desire  to  gaze  upon  his 
'eatures  and  hear  his  voice.  So,  from 
:he  quaint  old  Chapter  Coffee  House 
n  Paternoster  Row,  they  wended  their 
A-ay  to  St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook, 
ivholiy  indifferent  to  the  attractions  of 
:he  huge  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's,  under 
:he  very  shadow  of  which  they  had 
ixed  their  temporary  home. 

But  a  disappointment  was  in  store 
"or  the  Bronti  sisters  ;  Dr.  Croly  was 
absent  from  his  pulpit  that  day.  It  is 
probable,  however,  that  the  two  novel- 
ists were  somewhat  compensated  for 
their  disappointment  by  the  beauty  of 
the  building  in  which  they  found  them- 
selves ;  and  if  they  had  felt  any  regret 
that  they  had  not  visited  St.  Paul's  in- 
stead, they  might,  had  they  known  it, 
have  taken  comfort  from  the  fact  that 
they  were  worshipping  in  a  temple 
which  was  Sir  Christopher  Wren's  first 
study  for  his  famous  masterpiece, 

Walbrook,  a  narrow  thoroughfare 
leading  from  the  Mansion  House  to 
Canon  Street,  perpetuates  the  fact 
that  this  street  was,  in  the  early  days 
of  London,  the  channel  of  a  small 
stream  of  that  name,  which  entered 
the  city  through  the  wall  between 
Bishoj^ate  and  Moorgate,  flowed 
down  this  lane,  and  emptied  itself  into 
the  Thames   at    Dowgate.       So    long 

ago  as  1 13s  a  church  was  built  in  this 
street  to  the  honour  of  St.  Stephen, 
but  that  structure  was  situated  on  the 
west  side  of  Walbrook,  Three  hun- 
dred years  later  a  mayor  of  London 
purchased  the  site  on  which  the  pre- 
sent building  stands,  and  by  1439  a 
new  church  was  erected  to  take  the 
place  of  that  which  had  been  demol- 
ished on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street.  Restored  during  the  reign  of 
the  first  Charles  at  a  cost  of  over 
;^5oo,  this  fifteenth  century  structure 
was  one  of  the  eighty-five  churches 
by  the  fire 
of    London 

dozen  out of 
the  ninety- 
seven  Chris- 
tian temples 



city  walls. 

On  the 
ruins  of  the 
Great  Fire 
of  1666  Sir 
er Wren  laid 
the  founda- 
tions of  the 
solid  struc- 
ture of  his 
fame.  Nev- 
tory  of  the 
world  has 
an  architect 

an   oppor- 

□  igitizedbyGoOglC 


tuDity  of  making  posterity  his  debt- 
or ;  and  it  is  not  Wren's  fault  that 
the  London  of  to-day  requires  such 
constant  demolition  and  reconstruc- 
tion to  make  it  better  fitted  to  dis- 
charge the  functions  of  the  most 
important  city  of  the  modern  world. 
His  plans  for  the  entire  rebuilding  of 
the  devastated  city  embraced  wide 
streets,  magnificent  quays  along  the 
banks  of  the  river,  and  numerous 
other  well  considered  improvements. 
Few  of  his  recommendations,  how- 
ever, were  adopted  and  consequently 
the  nineteenth  century  has  to  grapple 
with  work  which  might  have  been  done 
more  effectually  in  the  seventeenth. 

Prevented  from  being  the  architect 
of  London  city,  Wren  fell  heir  to  the 
almost  equal  distinction  of  being  the 
architect  of  London  churches.  In  ad- 
dition  to    St.    Paul's    Cathe- 

those  times  was,   to  a  far  greater  ex- 
tent than  now,  the  interpreter  of  the 
architect ;     and    the    vast    amount    of 
work    which    the    Great    Fire  caused 
speedily    drained    the    market   of    the 
most  capable  builders.     A  year  after 
the    fire,    an  Act    of  Parliament    was 
actually  passed  for  the  purpose  of  in- 
viting artificers  to    London  to  rebuild 
the  city.     Again,  in  view  of  the  many 
churches  requiring  to  be  rebuilt  at  the 
same    time,    the    monetary    question 
must  have  assumed  an  unusual  impor- 
tance.      For   two    or    three    churches 
there    might    have  been   ample    funds 
forthcoming ;    half    a    hundred    must 
have  been  a  distressing  tax  upon  even 
the      most      generous      benevolence. 
This  is  a  fact,   then,  which  has  to  be 
considered    in   judging  the  structures 
which  Wren  raised,  for  it  cannot  but 
have  handicapped  him  very 
seriously   in    many    ways. 
More  than  that,  let  it  ever 
be  remembered  to  the  glory 
of  the  great  architect  that 
the  laborious  work  he  dis- 
charged in   rebuilding  the 
churches    of    London    was 
carried  out  for  the  paltry  re- 
muneration of  ^loo  ayear. 
Some    of   the    church    au- 
thorities, however,  had  the 
grace  to  recognize  that  their 
debt  to  the    architect  was 
not     discharged     by    their 
proportionate  share  of  that 
meagre    salary ;    and    it  is 
pleasant  to  find  the  follow- 
ing entry  in  the  vestrv  book 
of  St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook : 
"  Ordered  that  a  present  of 
twenty  guineas  be  made  to 
the  lady  of  Sir  Christopher 
Wren,  as  a  testimony  of  the 
regard  the    parish    has  for 
the  great  care  and  skill  that 
SirChristopherWren  show- 
ed in  the  rebuilding  of  our 

It  was  in  October,  1672, 
sixyears  after  theGreat  Fire, 
that  the  foundation  stone 
of  the  present  church  was 
laid;  and  when  it  had  been 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

brought  to  completion,  in  1679,  the  total 
ium  of  ^7,652  had  been  expended.  The 
bulk  of  that  sum  was  raised  by  public 
iubscription  ;  but  the  Grocers'  Com- 
pany defrayed  the  cost  of  the  substan- 
:ia1  wainscoting,  which  was  removed 
n  1888.  Even  in  the  seventeenth 
;entury,  St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook,  was 
evidently  regarded  as  one  ot  the  most 
mportant  churches  io  the  city,  for 
the    foundation  stone  was  laid  in  the 

presence  of  the  Lord  Mayor,  several 
members  of  the  Grocers'  Company,  the 
Surveyor-General  and  other  persons  of 

Before  .remarking  on  the  peculiar 
features  of  the  church,  justice  demands 
that  brief  mention  be  made  of  its 
builder.  Thomas  Strong  was  the  son 
of  a  Hertfordshire  mason  named 
Valentine  Strong,  whose  memory  is 
enshrined  in  this  curious  epitaph  : 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

"  Here's  one  Ihat  was  an  able  workman  long, 
Who  divers  houses  built,  bolh  fair  and  strong  ; 
Though  Strong  he  was,  a  stronger  came  than 

And  robb'd  him  of  his  life  and  fame,  we  see  : 
Moving  an  old  house  a  new  one  for  to  rear, 
Death  met  him  by  the  way,  and  laid  him  here." 

Thomas  Strong  was  one  of  the 
builders  who  were  attracted  to  London 
by  the  Act  of  Parliament  mentioned 
above.  He  took  a  great  many  work- 
men with  him,  and  that  he  had  no 
reason  for  regretting  the  step  may  be 
inferred  from  the  fact  that  he  laid  the 
first   stone    in   the    foundation    of  St. 

Paul'sCathedral  in  his  capacity  as  a  coo- 
tractor  for  the  rebuilding  of  that  struc- 
ture. As  St.  Stephen's  was  begtin 
three  years  before  St.  Paul's,  it  may 
well  be  that  the  mason  as  well  as  the 
architect  derived  nota  little  advantage 
from  working  out  in  the  smaller  build- 
ing some  of  the  ideas  which  are  re- 
peated in  the  larg'er  structure.  Not, 
however,  that  there  is  anything  experi- 
mental about  the  work  which  Thomas 
Strong  put  into  St.  Stephen's  Church  ; 
on  the  contrary,  that  building  has  all 
the  appearance  of  having  been  the  final 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


effort  of  a  ripe  experience,  and  is  no 
discredit  to  the  son  of  that  Hertford- 
shire mason  who  built  his  houses 
"  fair  and  strong." 

All  competent  critics  agree  in  prais- 
ing the  architectural  beauties  of  St. 
Stephen's  Church.  Canova  was 
greatly  impressed  by  the  building,  and 

is  credited  with  the  declaration  that 
he  would  gladly  pay  another  visit  to 
England  to  see  again  St.  Paul's, 
Somerset  House,  and  St.  Stephen's. 
"  It  is  not  only  said,"  affirms  one  au- 
thority, "  to  be  Sir  Christopher's 
masterpiece,  but  that  Italy  cannot 
produce    a    modern    edifice    equal    to 

Digitized  byGoOgIc 



this  in  taste,  proportion  and  beauty." 
One  reservation,  however,  has  to  be 
made  ;  the   beauties  of  St,  Stephen's 
must   be    sought   within    rather  than 
without.       In    truth,    the 
exterior  g■i^ 
the  riches  \ 
Wren's    ni 
don  church 
cidedly  the 
tive   when 
by  the  exigi 

great  archi 
solved  to 
skill  upon 
the  building 
sent  surroi 
church  just 
It  is  closely 
all  sides  by 

there  is 
a  b  s  o  - 
lutely  no 
its     ex- 

ties,  if  it 
had  any. 
As  to 
t  h  e 
charm  of 
the  in- 
terior of 
St.  Ste- 
let  Mr.  J. 
the  bio- 

architect,  speak  :  "  The  beauty  of  the 
interior  of  this  church  arises  from  its 
lightness  and  elegance.  On  entering 
from  the  street,  by  about  a  dozen  or 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


their  brown  and  brawny 
solids  supporting  the  deli- 
cate white  forms  of  the  en- 
tire order.,.. He  who  doubts 
the  excellencies  of  Wren  as 
an  architect  of  the  first  order 
should  deeply  study  this 
jewel  of  the  art — find  fault  if 
hecan;  but  first  qualifyhim- 
self  by  trying  to  surpass  it. " 

Something    of    the     olil 
charm  of  the  church  disap- 
peared with  the  removal,  in 
1888,  of  much  of  the  wains- 
coting  and    all   the  ancient 
pews  ;  but  it  may  be  ques- 
tioned whether  Sir  Christo- 
pher     contemplated     fixed 
seats    of  any    kind    in    the 
building.    Certainly  most  of 
the  old  prints  of  the  interior 
show  it  devoid  of  any  seat- 
ing accommodation  ;  and  if 
those  prints  distort  the  per- 
spective    of     the    building 
somewhat,  they  at  the  same 
time  do  fuller  justice  to  the 
conception  of  the  architect 
than  any  view  obstructed  by 
pews.     As  will  be  seen  by 
the     picture    which   shows 
the  view  of  the  church  ob- 
tained from  the  pulpit,  the 
old  heavy  pews  have  been  replaced  by 
seats  of  a   more  open  character,  and 
these  impede  far  less  than  their  pre- 
decessors   the    harmonious    beauty   of 
Wren's  design.   No  matter,  then,  from 
what  standpoint  the  interior  is  studied, 
one  cannot   fail  to   be  struck  by  that 
"  lightness  and  elegance  "  upon  which 
Elmes  laid  so  much  stress. 

St.  Stephen's  is  particularly  rich  in 
exquisite  carving,  the  bulk  of  which  is 
the  work  of  "that incomparable  young 
man  Gibbon,"  whom  John  Evelyn  un- 
earthed at  Deptford  in  such  a  tragic 
manner.  Grinliog  Gibbon  did  not  gain 
much  from  Evelyn's  introduction  of 
him  to  Charles  II,  but  he  profited 
largely  from  being  brought  to  Wren's 
notice  by  the  famous  diarist.  Hence 
the  plethora  of  his  work  in  Wren's 
churches — work  which  is  seen  at  its 
best  in  St.  Stephen's.     The  pulpit,  the 

font  cover  and  the  organ  case  were  all 
wrought  by  Gibbon's  deft  hand,  and 
these  carvings  have  all  the  merits  am) 
fewest  of  the  defects  of  his  best  pro- 
ductions. Apart  from  these  carvings, 
St.  Stephen's  has  few  added  beauties 
to  boast  of.  The  mural  monuments 
are  not  particularly  striking,  and  the 
stained  glass  window  to  Dr.  Croly  is 
not  an  overwhelming  success.  But 
on  the  whol«,  no  one  will  regret  the 
absence  of  extraneous  attractions  in 
St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook  ;  it  is  glory 
enough  for  any  building  to  be  sealed 
as  the  master  effort  of  Sir  Christopher 


From    "  Im'go  Jones    and    Wren,"     by 

W,  J.  Lo/Ue. 

"St.  Stephen's  had  the  good  or  ill 

fortune  to  belong  to  the  Grocers'  Com- 

□  igitizedbyGoOglC 



pany.  The  consequence  is  both  that 
the  authorities  were  able  to  incur  a 
little  extra  expense  in  the  original  de- 
sign, and  also  that  ever  since,  with 
every  changing  caprice  of  architectural 
taste,  they  have  done  their  best  to 
obliterate  Wren's  handiwork.  The 
church  is  very  well  known,  and  visit- 
ors  are   fortunate  who  saw  it  before 

the  last  alteration 

The  part  of  the  curious  passage 
from  Elmes  [already quoted]  relating  to 
the  pewings  should  be 
specially  noted.  The  ar- 
rangement of  the  dark 
oak  wainscoting  pro- 
duced a  most  interesting 
scenic  effect.  When  you 
entered  from  below,  the 
church  seemed  to  rise 
above  you.  All  its  archi- 
tectural features  began 
to  show,  so  to  speak, 
above  the  level  of  the 
tall  sombre  pews.  The 
size,  and  especially  the 
height  of  the  church, 
were  so  enhanced  that  it 
wasimpossible  to  believe 
that  it  was  only  87  feet 
10  inches  by  64  feet  10 
inches,  with  63  feet  to 
the  top  of  the  highest 
part  of  the  dome.      Fer- 



enthusiastic  admirer  of 
Wren,  says  that  here  he 
produced  the  most  pleas- 
ing interior  of  any  Ren- 
aissance church,  which 
has  yet  been  erected. 
Farther  on  he  repeats  : 
'  There  is  a  cheerful 
ness,  an  elegance  and.  appropriate- 
ness about  the  interior  which  pleases 
every  one.'  The  leading  idea  of  the 
architect  was  to  place  'a  circular 
dome  on  an  octagonal  base,  supported 
by  eight  pillars,'  and  Mr.  Fergusson 
considered  this  was  an  early  and  long 
a  favourite  mode  of  roofing  in  the 
East,  and  the  consequent  variety  ob- 
tained by  making  the  diverging  aisles 
respectively  in  the  ratio  of  7  to  10,  in- 
finitely more  pleasing  than  the  Gothic 

plan  of  doubling  them,  unless  the 
height  was  doubled  at  the  same  time.' 
What  Fergusson  meant  by  '  the  East,' 
I  do  not  know.  There  was  nothing 
to  compare  to  St.  Stephen's  in  India, 
Syria  or  Egypt  before  the  time  of 
Wren,  whose  design,  in  any  case, 
must  be  accounted  wholly  original. 

"This  church  has  always  laboured 
under  the  same  disadvantage  as  St. 
Paul's.  The  authorities  concerned 
with  it  have  always  had  too  much 
money.  I  have  not  heard 
that  St.  Stephen's  has 
been  scheduled  for  de- 
struction by  the  commit- 
tee ;  but  after  the  '  re- 
storation, '  we  may  re- 
gard its  ruin  with  com- 
parative equanimity. 
The  great  scenic  charm 
of  the  interior  has  been 
carefully  and  elaborately 
removed.  It  no  longer 
bursts  upon  the  view  as 
we  ascend  from  what 
Elmes  calls  'the  vesti- 
bule of  dubious  obscur- 
ity.' The  interior  has 
been  gutted.  The  panel- 
ling which  had  such  a 
magic  effect  has  been  re- 
moved. The  floor  has 
been  laid  down  with 
coarse  mosaic.  The  ped- 
estals of  the  pillars  are 
,'  exposed,  with  a  disast- 
'\  rous  result  ;    and  in  the 

centre  a  few  yellow  oak 
seats,  fresh  from  Totten- 
ham Court  Road,  have 
been  placed,  as  if  to  ac- 
centuate the  smallness 
of  the  congregation.  We  all  admire 
courage,  and  perhaps  some  readers 
would  like  to  know  the  name  of  the 
gentleman  who  ventured  so  boldly  to 
improve  upon  Wren's  masterpiece.  It 
is  Peebles,  and  he  is  understood  to  be 
a  very  accomplished  architect. 

"  Mr.  Wheatley  says  that  Wren  was 
averse  to  the  use  of  these  panellings, 
and  that  they  vere  forced  upon  him 
by  the  Grocers'  Company,  and  Miss 
PhilUmore  speaks  of  '  the  disfiguring 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

pews'  which  she  desired  to  see  re- 
niDved.  Neither  of  these  writers  ap- 
parently understood  that  even  if  they 
were  forced  upon  Wren,  which  I 
must  take  leave  to  doubt,  he  used 
them  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  them 
an  integral  part  of  the  design.  Tinker- 
ing* of  all  kinds  has  gone  on  for  many 
years,  and  the  '  restoration '  of  Mr, 
Peebles  was  only  the  final  step  in  a 
long^  series  of  such  ruinous  operations. 
Among  the  first  was  a.  frightful  vandal- 
ism, the  insertion  of  mock  mediaeval 
stained  glass  in  the  windows.  But  the 
treatment  of  this  little  gem  of  architec- 
ture is  not  a  subject  pleasant  enough 
to  be  dwelt  on  here.  It  has  always 
been  very  diflicult  to  obtain  access  to 
the  interior  on  a  week  day  ;  and  the 
visitor  need  not  now  go  to  the  trou- 
ble ^vhich  in  Canova's  time  and  later 
was  necessary  before  the  key  could  be 

"  It   has   often   been   remarked   by 

architectural  writers  that  St.  Stephen's 
would  form  an  admirable  model  for  a 
modern  church.  Several  attempts  in 
this  direction  have  resulted  in  failure. 
The  reason  is  easily  found.  If  an  imi- 
tator either  enlarged  or  diminished  St. 
Stephen's,  the  proportions  would  be 
lost-  A  St.  Stephen's  double  the  size 
would  have  a.  wholly  different  effect. 
It  is  so  small  that  the  imitators  have 
generally  tried  to  build  something 
larger  ;  but  there  would  be  great  diffi- 
culty in  making  the  needTuI  calculation. 
It  cannot  he  done  by  rule  of  thumb. 
It  may  be  worth  while  here  to  men- 
tion that  some  admirable  drawing^s  of 
St.  Stephen's,  by  Mr.  Edmund  H.  Sed- 
ding,  were  engraved  in  the  Builder  on 
3rd  January,  1885,  having  gained  the 
Royal  Academy  medal  in  1884.  The 
drawings  were  made  before  the  church 
was  'restored.'"  [Oneof  these  draw- 
ings is  reproduced  with  the  present 
article.  ] 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


By  William  R.   Stewart. 

THERE  was  really  no  reason  in  the 
world  why  Frederick  Goodwin 
should  have  answered  "No"  when 
asked  if  he  was  a  married  man.  For 
he  certainly  was  married,  and  had  aU 
ways  been  quite  willing  that  people 
should  know  it.  Indeed,  he  was  rather 
proud  of  his  wife,  who  was  stylish  and 
good-loo  king  and  very  g'ood  company 

And  yet  he  did  say  "No,"  and  al- 
though it  was  not  a  prompt,  emphatic 
"  No,"  but  came  from  him  in  a  halting, 
hesitating  tone,  and  in  two  syllables, 
thus  :  "  N-no,"  necessitating'  an  "  Oh, 
no "  immediately  afterwards  to  make 
it  effective,  still  the  fact  remained  that 
it  was  said,  and  said  more  or  less 

Of  course,  it  is  not  strictly  accurate 
to  say  there  was  no  reason  for  this 
denial ;  and  yet,  the  next  minute  he 
was  rather  sorry  for  it,  in  a  way,  and 
was  sorry  the  next  day  as  well,  and 
would  have  unsaid  it  a  hundred  times 
before  the  voyage  was  over  had  he  had 
the  courage  to  do  so,  which  he  hadn't. 

The  fact  was,  he  was  not  paying 
much  attention  at  the  time,  and  had 
spoken  before  he  really  considered  what 
he  was  saying.  And  then  when  Mrs, 
Portman  and  the  Misses  Portman  look- 
ed at  him  so  curiously  as  he  lisped  out 
the  "N-no,"  he  instinctively  felt  that 
the  denial  was  doubted,  and  followed 
it  up  with  quite  an  emphatic  "Oh,  no". 
And  thus  once  said  and  asseverated 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  stick 
to  it. 

But  do  not  imagine  that  Frederick 
Goodwin  was  by  nature  prone  to 
habitual  wanderings  from  the  paths  of 
truth.  The  present  occasion  had  its 
mitigating  circumstances  ;  or  rather, 
they  were  tantalizing  circumstances, 
such  as  any  man  might  fall  a  victim  to, 
and  Fred  was  never  very  strong  at  re- 
sisting temptations,  anyway. 

To  begin  with,  it  happened  at  sea  ; 
which  of  itself  was  a  point  to  be  con- 
sidered, for  the  customs  of  the 
promenade  deck  are  not  so  rigid  as 
the  etiquette  of  the  drawing-room. 
And  the  Misses  Portman  were  very 
pretty  young  ladies — almost  the  only 
pretty  ones  on  board,  in  fact — and 
what  interest  could  they  be  supposed 
likely  to  take  in  Fred  if  he  were  a 
married  man  ?  He  liked  young  ladies' 
society,  too,  Fred  did,  if  he  was  mar- 
ried— he  was  only  twenty-nine  at  that 
— and  six  or  seven  days  at  sea  passed 
only  in  the  company  of  other  men  and 
married  women  was  not  half  so  pleas- 
ing a  prospect  as  a  little  harmless 
flirtation  with  the  Misses  Portman. 

The  passenger  list  was  not  a  very 
large  one  that  voyage.  It  was  the 
winter  season,  when  folks  travel  south 
rather  than  west,  and  the  weather  for 
some  time  back  had  been  cold  aod 
stormy.  It  was  thus  it  happened,  as 
already  related,  that  the  Misses  Port- 
man— Fannie  and  Jennie  were  their 
other  names — were  almost  the  only 
really  pretty  young  ladies  on  board. 
And  it  was  under  such  circumstances 
too,  that,  as  also  already  related,  when 
Mrs.  Portman,  on  the  second  day  out 
from  Southampton  for  New  York,  ask- 
ed :  "Are  you  a  married  man,  Mr. 
Goodwin?"  Mr.  Goodwin  said  "N-no. 
Oh,  no." 

It  was  astonishing  how  quickly 
Fred  and  Fannie — to  call  them  by 
more  formal  names  were  quite  impos- 
sible, even  though  Fred  was  married, 
which  Fannie  didn't  know — it  was 
astonishing,  be  it  said,  how  quickly  they 
seemed  to  take  to  each  other,  and  how 
fond  they  grew  of  each  other.  Mrs. 
Portman  noticed  it,  the  other  Miss 
Portman  noticed  it,  the  passengers 
noticed  it.  It  began  before  breakfast, 
when  they  were  the  earliest  of  the 
passengers  on  deck  for  a  morn- 

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ingr  constitutional ;  it  continued  all 
forenoon,  when  they  sauntered  about 
the  ship,  and  read  and  talked  to  each 
other  ;  in  the  afternooo,  when  they 
did  the  same,  and  ended  only  when 
they  retired  at  night,  which  was  never 
very  early  and  sometimes  quite  late. 

It  is  wonderful  what  pranks  Cupid 
can  play  with  two  young  hearts  at  sea, 
especially  in  the  long  quiet  evenings, 
when  the  great  solitude  of  the  vast 
ocean  rolling  majestically  on  every  side, 
and  the  pathetic  loneliness  of  the  moon, 
as  it  shines  over  the  heaving  billows, 
give  to  everything  an  air  and  aspect  if 
not  utterly  unreal  at  least  of  complete 
dissimilarity  to  the  material  world  to 
which  we  are  accustomed.  The  world  ! 
What  is  the  world?  The  ship  we're 
sailing  in,  and  we  its  only  inhabitants; 
the  only  life  the  present  one. 

And  so  Fred  Goodwin  allowed  him- 
self to  dream  on — it  was  a  very 
pleasant  dream,   why  should  he   spoil 

ers  every  one  oi  [neni  saia  it 
was  a  love-match  pure  and  simple,  so 
there  must  have  been  something  going 
on  that  Mrs.  Fred  at  home  would  not 
have  approved  of,  and  that  Miss  Port- 
man  at  sea  would  not  have  permitted 
had  she  known  that  a  Mrs.  Fred 

Now,  when  Fred  Goodwin  said  "N- 
no;  Oh,  no!"  (in  the  manner  and 
under  the  circumstances  already  nar- 
rated) he  fully  intended  to  make 
amends,  later  on,  for  the  little  dis- 
crepancy between  fact  and  statement 
into  which  he  had  so  unpremeditatedly 
stumbled.  A  simple  and  easy  way 
of  accomplishing  the  reparation,  he 
reasoned,  would  be  by  making  it 
known  to  the  Portmans,  in  a  seeming- 
ly off-hand  manner,  that  he  was  en- 
gaged to  be  married — that,  in  fact,  the 
nuptial  knot  constituting  him  a  Bene- 
dict was  to  be  tied  soon  after  his 
return.  "An  engaged  manisasunin- 
teresting  as  an  actually  married  one," 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



he  said  to  himself,  "and  that  will  set 
matters  right  again.  I  don't  want  to 
do  any  deceiving,  even  if  nobody 
is  likely  to  care  two.  straws  whether 
I'm  married  or  not." 

But  somehow  the  opportunity  to  set 
matters  right  had  a  way  of  not  pre- 
senting itself  which  was  quite  remark- 
able. Every  morning  Fred  arose  with 
the  laudable  resolution  that  another 
sun  should  not  set  betore  every  com- 
punction of  conscience  and  qualm  of 
honour  were  satisfied  by  the  confession 
— or  rather,  the  half  confession  which 
he  had  figured  out  to  be  about  equal 
to  a  whole  one— that  he  would  make. 

Of  course,  before  breakfast  was  not 
a  good  time  to  introduce  the  subject, 
for  people  only  talked  about  the  pro- 
spects for  the  day's  weather  then,  and 
how  many  knots  the  ship  had  made 
during  the  twenty-four  hours,  how 
each  had  slept  during  the  night,  and 
such  like  topics  of  casual  import. 

Then,  after  breakfast  seemed  to  be 
just  as  bad.  The  days  were  so 
pleasant  and  sunshiny,  and  Fannie 
such  good  company,  and  so  many 
other  topics  of  conversation  would 
keep  cropping  up,  that  Fred  was  per- 
force obliged  to  postpone  it  till  the 

The  afternoon  was  no  better.  In- 
dee<i  it  seemed  to  be  distinctly  worse, 
for  whereas  in  the  morning  he  was  a 
number  of  times  on  the  very  verge  of 
dragging  this  confession  of  his  into 
the  midst  of  most  inopportune  topics, 
in  the  afternoon  he  never  once  felt  the 
impulse  to  refer  to  it  at  all,  if,  indeed, 
he  did  not  forget  the  resolve  of  the 
early  morning. 

The  evening  was  worse  still.  He 
did  make  one  desperate  effort  after 
the  sun  had  gone  down,  but  it  resulted 
in  a  miserable  failure.  It  was  a  par- 
ticularly beautiful  evening.  The  full 
moon  was  shedding  its  soft  white  rays 
over  all  the  expanse  of  scarcely  rippled 
ocean  ;  a  balmy  warmth  was  in  the 
listless  air  that  was  not  the  sultriness 
of  heat-parched  brick  and  stone  and 
pavement  ;  occasional  seagulls  sailed 
and  darted  round  and  above  the  ship, 
while  the  steady,  monotonous  churn  of 

the  engines  down  below,  and  the  scarce- 
ly audible  hum  of  distantconversation, 
all  combined  to  make  Fred,  who  was 
standing  alone  on  the  deck  and  lean- 
ing over  the  railing,  feel  sentimental. 
His  thoughts  strayed  from  the  sea  to 
the  land,  to  the  cosy  little  home  where 
Mrs.  Fred  and  the  children  were — for 
he  had  children,  too,  had  Fred,  a 
couple  of  them — and  even  in  the  half- 
light  of  the  ended  day,  and  with  none 
else  around,  Fred  could  not  help  blush- 
ing just  a  bit. 

It  was  while  the  blush  was  yet  suf- 
fusing Fred's  rather  prepossessing 
countenance  that  Fannie,  who  had 
been  down  below  for  some  time,  came 
on  deck  and  joined  him  at  the  tailing. 
Fred  was  still  feeling  sentimental,  for 
his  thoughts  were  still  on  land,  and  he 
decided  that  the  moment  had  come. 

"  Fannie,"  he  said,  and  being 
slightly  embarrassed  by  uncertainty 
as  to  how  best  to  go  about  it,  he 
absent-mindedly  took  her  hand  in  his, 
"  Fannie — " 

Now,  anybody  of  common  sense 
knows  that  a  confession  of  the  kind 
Fred  had  in  mind  simply  could  not 
be  made  standing  alone  on  deck 
with  a  pretty  girl,  her  hand  in  his,  the 
moon  shining  placidly  down,  the  waves 
rippling  gently,  the  seagulls  sailing 
almost  motionless,  the  engines  churn- 
ing a  soothing  accompaniment,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it  just  as  we  have  des- 
cribed it  as  being  on  the  evening  in 

Fannie  looked  up  quite  surprised, 
for  there  was  something  in  Fred's 
manner  that  was  a  departure  from  the 
even  tenor  of  their  previous  flirtation. 
Still,  Fannie  did  not  withdraw  her 
hand,  though,  to  do  her  justice,  it 
must  be  admitted  she  did  not  return 
Fred's  spasmodic  pressure. 

"  Fannie,"  repeated  Fred,  and  again 

"Well?"  replied  Fannie,  after  an 
unduly  long  pause  on  Fred's  part, 

"  Do  you  know,  Fannie,  and  by 
this  time  Fred  had  sufficiently  re- 
covered himself  to  relax  the  warmth  of 
his  clasp  on  the  unresisting  but  unre- 
sponsive  fingers,    "  do  you  know  that 

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1  was  just  thinking  of  home.  I 
couldn't  help  feeling  a  little  homesick 
— well,  no,  not  homesick,"  he  cor- 
rected himself  as  he  thought  he  noticed 
an  offended  movement  oa  Pannie's 
part,  "but  just  a  bit,  you  know,  sort 
of  sentimental.  And,  you  know,  when 
a  fellow  has  a — a — mother,  and — sis- 
ter, and  a— good  mother  and  sister 
too, — and — and — you  know — the  boys 
at  home — why,  a  fellow  can't  help 
feeling  a  little  lonesome  for  them  at 
times,  can  he?" 

The  next  day  Fred  made  no  effort 
to  carry  out  his  resolution  whatever. 
The  day  following  he  thought  about  it 
but  did  nothing,  and,  in  short,  when 
the  big  steamer  steamed  into  New 
York  harbour  and  finally  tied  up  at 
her  berth  the  setting  right  had  still  to 
be  done. 

At  Albany  the  paths  of  Fred  Good- 
win and  the  Portmans  divided  :  Fred 
went  to  Montreal,  the  Portmans  to 
Buffalo.  Let  us  exercise  our  privi- 
lege of  author,   and  draw  a  veil  over 

"  No,  indeed,  one  cannot,"  respond- 
ed Fannie,  and,  would  you  believe  it? 
she  actually  squeezed  Fred's  fingers 
for  just  one  little  instant,  while  a  far- 
away look  crept  into  her  pretty  eyes 
which  Fred  couldn't  see  in  the  gloam- 

At  any  rate,  it  was  all  up  with  Fred's 
attempted  confession.  He  couldn't 
have  told  it  to  save  a  kingdom,  and — 
it  was  even  a  later  hour  than  usual  when 
they  separated  that  evening. 

the  parting  of  Fred  and  Fannie.  We 
do  this  partly  out  of  consideration  for 
Mrs.  Fred  at  home,  who  might  reason- 
ably have  objected  to  the  warm  pres- 
sure of  hands  and  mutual  promises  to 
write  soon,  and  partly  out  of  consid- 
deration  for  those  of  our  readers  who 
have  straight  views  on  such  matters 
and  would  object  even  more  strongly 
than  Mrs.  Fred,  who  knew  Fred  bet- 
ter than  they  do,  and  knew  Fred's 
little  weaknesses,  and  that  at  bottom 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 

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he  wasn't  such   a  bad  sort  after  all. 

There  was  a  short  wait  at  Albany 
before  Fred's  train  continued  on  its 
journey  to  Montreal,  and  he  went  out 
and  walked  about,  and  thoug^ht  the 
situation  over,  and  wondered  what 
was  to  be  done.  There  was  Fannie 
going  to  write  to  him,  and  he  had 
promised  to  write  to  her,  and— and — 
well,  he  certainly  had  said  things  dur- 
ing those  past  eight  days  that  she 
might  have  misinterpreted,  and  he 
supposed  there  was  no  doubt  she  was 
really  in  love  with  him  and  believed 
that  he  entertained  similar  tender  sen- 
timents with  respect  to  herself.  There 
was  certainly  trouble  in  the  prospect, 
and  just  how  to  get  out  of  it,  with 
honour  to  himself  and  consideration 
for  Miss  Portman,  was  the  problem 
which  occupied  his  thoughts  pretty 
much  to  the  exclusion  of  everything 

Indeed,  with  such  inteotness  was 
Mr.  Fred  Goodwin  engaged  in  its  con- 
sideration, and  so  little  did  the  merely 
material  affair  of  where  he  was  walking 
eog'ross  his  attention,  that  he  waliced 
out  of  the  railway  shed  and  fell  down 
an  embankment  of  some  twenty  feet 
or  so  into  a  lot  of  coal  dust  and  tin 
cans  and  other  equally  unpleasant 
debris  to  tumble  amongst.  But  he 
felt  more  comfortable  after  that,  for  it 
gave  him  something  to  swear  at, 
which  is  always  a  relief  in  such  cir- 

When  Fred  Goodwin  reached  Mon- 
treal his  wife  was  at  the  station  to 
meet  him,  with  the  children,  and  for 
the  time  Miss  Fannie  Portman  was 
forgotten.  But  she  came  back  to  per- 
plex him  the  next  day,  and  occupied 
his  thoughts  fully  as  much  as  the  busi- 
ness duties  of  the  office. 

There  seemed  but  one  way  out  of 
the  difficulty — suicide.  But  Fred  was 
not  yet  tired  of  living,  nor  altogether 
prepared  to  die,  and  he  resolved  to 
cease  to  exist  only  with  respect  to  Miss 
Fannie  Portman,  of  Buffalo.  N.Y., 
and,  of  course,  such  friends  of  the  lat- 
ter to  whom  she  might  convey  the  sad 

So  Fred  Goodwin  framed  and  ma- 

tured his  plan.  When  it  was  fully 
developed  he  looked  upon  it  and  pro- 
nounced it  good  and  proceeded  to  carry 
it  into  execution.  He  needed  an  ac- 
complice, and  the  accomplice  was  pro- 
cured. The  latter  was  a  printer,  and 
between  them  the  following  death  no- 
tice resolved  itself  into  type,  to  be  in 
due  time  mailed  to  Miss  Portman  : 

Died— In  this  city,  on  the  (3th  inst.,  Fred- 
crick  Geori^  Goodwin,  accountant,  aged  19 
years.  Funeral  from  his  lale  residence,  Union 
ave.,  on  Wednesday,  the  15th  inst.,  at  3  p-at., 
to  Mount  Royal  Cemetery. 

Now  Frederick  George  Goodwin,  as 
already  related,  had  no  intention  what- 
ever of  departing  this  life  so  far  as  the 
world  outside  of  the  immediate  circle 
of  the  Portmans,  of  Buffalo,  was  con- 
cerned, and  he  consequently  did  not 
have  the  above  notice  inserted  in  a 
newspaper.  This  was  where  the  ser- 
vices of  the  printer  accomplice  cafite 
in,  for  the  latter  set  the  notice  Ub  in 
type,  and  ruled  it  off  in  the  regular 
way,  and  setup  other  type  round  about 
it,  and  ran  the  reverse  over  some 
standing  matter  in  one  of  the  forms, 
and,  behold  I  the  result  was  for  all  the 
world  like  an  ordinary  newspaper  clip- 
ping, torn  out  rather  carelessly,  with 
the  notice  of  the  death  of  Frederick 
George  Goodwin  marked  with  X's  in 
pen  and  ink  at  the  top  corners,  and 
fragments  of  other  printed  matter  at 
the  sides  and  top  and  bottom  and  on 
the  other  side  as  well. 

This  brief  and  mournful  announce- 
ment was  sent  to  Miss  Fannie  Port- 
man,  801  Swan  Street,  Buffaloi  accom- 
panied by  a  much  longer,  but  quite 
equally  mournful  pen-and-ink  corro- 
boration by  the  accomplice,  in  which  it 
was  stated  that  the  departed  had  died 
very  suddenly  ;  that  he  had  contracted 
a  severe  cold  on  the  train  from  New 
York,  which  had  developed  into  con- 
gestion of  the  lungs,  and  ended  fatally 
within  two  days.  As  the  end  approach- 
ed, added  the  letter  (and  even  the  cold 
ink  seemed  to  grow  soft  and  tearful- 
looking  in  sympathy) — as  the  end  ap- 
proached and  the  deceased  realized 
that  his  moments  were  numbered,  he 
had  sent  for  the  friend  whose  sad  duty 

Digitized  by  VjOO'JIC 



it  was  now  to  pen  these  lines.  To 
him  he  had  confided  the  deep  attach- 
ment he  had  formed  for  Miss  Portman, 
and  had  charged  him  to  f^thfully  con- 
vey to  her  his  dying'  blessing  and  to 
tell  her  that  his  last  thoughts,  as 
his  last  words,  were  pf  his  dearest 

"That  ought  to  fix  it,"  sfud  Fred, 
as  he  and  the  accomplice  completed 
the  note  and  despatched  it  upon  its 
way.  "  The  poor  girl  will  feel  pretty 
bad  for  a  time,  I  suppose,  but  it  was 
the  best  thing  to  do  under  the  circum- 
stances. Anyway,  she  knew  me  for 
only  a  week,  and  will  get  over  it  after 
a  while. " 

"  Oh,  she'll  get  over  it,  don't 
worry,"  comfortingly  assured  the  ac- 
complice, whose  faith  in  the  constancy 
of  woman  was  not  great. 

But  the  next  day  it  occurred  to  Fred 
that  it  was  not  all  right  yet,  and  that 
there  remained  something  else  to  be 
attended  to.  What  if  Fannie,  incon- 
solable, should  want  to  come  to  Mon- 
treal to  strew  a  flower  or  two  on  his 
grave  and  mingle  her  tears  with  those 
of  his  bereaved  mother,  and  so  should 
write  to  thai  mother  (Fred  had  told 
her  he  had  a  mother  living),  or  should 
write  to  some  other  of  his  relatives, 
whose  addresses  she  might  easily  oh- 
tain  through  the  medium  of  the  direct- 
ory I  Here  were  portentous  possibili- 
ties, which  demanded  attention.  He 
had  already  committed  suicide ;  he 
must  commit  murder  as  well. 

So  Fred  sat  down  and  deliberately 
killed  off  his  poor  old  mother— and  she 
had  been  a  good  mother  to  him — and 
assassinated  his  uncle,  and  quietly  re- 
moved his  aunts  and  cousins,  and  left 
himself  without  a  solitary  relation  in 
the  wide  world.  Then  he  called  in  the 
accomplice  again,  and  the  latter  copied 
it  out  into  another  letter  to  Fannie  and 
told  her,  delicately,  and  in  a  manner 
full  of  sympathetic  sadness,  how  it 
had  occurred  to  him  that  Miss  Port- 
man  might  possibly  desire  to  commun- 
icate  with  some  of  the  late  Mr.  Good- 
win's relatives.  Unfortunately,  Mr. 
Goodwin  had  no  relatives  living,  at 
least   none   that   the  writer  knew  of. 

His  father  had  died  several  years  be- 
fore, and  his  mother  had  succumbed, 
quite  unexpectedly,  to  heart  disease 
only  a  few  days  ago — while,  in  fact, 
Mr.  Goodwin  was  crossing  the  ocean. 
(The  letter  hinted  that  it  might  have 
been  partly  due  to  the  shock  of 
his  mother's  death  that  Mr.  Goodwin's 
own  ailment  had  ended  fatally  as  it 
had.)  An  uncle  of  the  deceased  who 
had  lived  in  Montreal,  had  recently 
died,  and  any  other  living  relatives 
that  he  might  have  had  were  not  nowr 
in  Montreal,  and  were  not  known  to 
the  writer. 

"  There,"  said  Fred,  relieved, 
"that'll  settle  it  anyway.  It's  not 
pleasant  to  have  to  kill  so  many  peo- 
ple, but  what  else  was  there  to  be 
done  ? "  And  with  this  utilitarian 
consolation  he  slept  better  that  night. 

With  all  the  threatening  features  of 
his  little  romance  on  the  Atlantic  thus 
happily  disposed  of,  Fred  proceeded  to 
forget  the  incident,  recalling  it  only  in 
his  lighter  moments,  and  at  such  times 
only  to  smile  quietly  to  himself  over  it 
and  think  what  a  tremendous  fellow  he 
could  be  among  the  women  if  he  only 
tried.  But  of  course  he  had  no  inten- 
tion of  trying  ;  he  was  too  loyal  to 
Mrs.  Fred  for  that.  He  did  hope, 
though,  that  Fannie  had  not  cut  up  too 
much  over  his  death,  and  taken  it  to 
heart ;  for  he  was  a  sensitive  and 
kindly  man,  was  Fred,  and  could  not 
endure  the  thought  of  another  suffer- 
ing on  account  of  him. 

It  was  perhaps  a  matter  of  two 
weeks  after  his  return  to  Montreal 
that  Fred  stood  one  evening  in  the 
waiting-room  of  the  Bonaventure  depot 
in  that  city.  He  had  escorted  thither 
Mrs.  Fred,  who  went  to  see  a  friend 
off  on  the  Toronto  train,  and  having 
stopped  to  say  a  word  or  two  to  a 
male  acquaintance,  had  become  mo- 
mentarily separated  from  his  better 
half  and  her  companion. 

He  had  finished  his  conversation  and 
was  turning  around  to  rejoin  them 
when — was  it  an  apparition  ? — there 
was  Fannie  Portman  walking  directly 
towards  him.  She  was  accompanied 
by  a  tall,  dark  gentleman,  and    they 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



had  evidently  just  alighted  from  the 
western  express. 

In  another  motneat  she  had  seen 
him,  and  though  she  blushed  slightly, 
and  showed  a  momentary  embarrass- 
ment, she  came  forward  smiling  with 
out-stretched  hand. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Goodwin,  how  are  you? 
I  scarcely  expected  the.  pleasure  of 
meeting  an  acquaintance  so  soon  in  a 
strange  city."  Whatever  embarrass- 
ment she  might  have  felt,  none  showed 
itself  in  her  voice  and  smile. 

Fred  shook  the  preferred  hand  auto- 
matically, and  automatically  raised  his 
hat  and  bowed.  Automatically,  too, 
he  said  ' '  How  do  you  do  ?  "  and  never 
felt  quite  so  uncomfortable  in  his  life.  It 
certainly  was  just  a  trifle  embarrassing 
to  be  found  alive  after  one's  death 
notice  had  been  sent  out 

"You'll  come  around  and  see  us, 
won't  you,  and  show  us  around  yOur 
city,  Mr.  Goodwin,"  she  continued. 
"You  know  strangers  are  at  a  dis- 
advantage in  a  new  place.  We  shall 
be  staying  at  the  Queen's." 

Fred  promised  he  would,  but  with- 
out enthusiasm. 

"Oh,  I  was  forgetting.  My  hus- 
band— Mr.  Wetmore — Mr.  Goodwin. 
Mr.  Goodwin  came  over  with  us  on  the 
Germanic,  jack.  You  remember  Jessie 
speaking  about  him." 

Mr.  Wetmore  did  not  remember,  but 
was  very  glad,  indeed,  to  make  Mr. 
Goodwin's  acquaintance,  and  hoped  he 
would  come  and  take  dinner  with  them 
at  the  hotel  the  next  evening,  if  he  had 
no  other  appointment. 

Unfortunately  Fred  had  another  ap- 
pointment, but  would  be  pleased  to  call 
some  other  time. 

"  Married  I "  mused  Fred  to  himself 
after  they  had  parted.  Then  he  glanc- 
ed quickly  round  for  Mrs.  Fred.  Why 
hadn't  he  thought  of  it  before,  and  got 
even  by  introducing  his  wife  ?  It  was 
too  late  now,  however. 

As  Fred  walked  home  that  evening 
with  the  sharer  of  his  joys  and  sorrows 
— such  of  them  at  least  as  he  confided 
to  her,  the  latter  remarked  upon  his 
unaccustomed  preoccupation.  He  was 
strangely  plunged  in  silent  cogitations, 

spoke  little,  and  every  now  and  then  a 
perplexed  half-smile  passed  over  his 
countenance  and  marked  the  presence 
of  unspoken  thoughts  of  more  than 
usual  seriousness. 

As  Fred  sat  in  his  little  smoking 
room  that  evening,  a  sanctum  into 
which  Mrs.  Fred  seldom  intruded, 
smoking  his  pipe  with  an  earnestness 
which  he  seldom  displayed  at  that  or 
any  other  occupation,  there  rang  at 
his  door  bell,  and  a  minute  or  two 
later  was  ushered  into  his  presence,  his 
accomplice  of  the  printing  house.  To 
Fred,  absorbed  in  thoughts  of  Mrs. 
Wetmore — Miss  Fannie  Portman  that 
was— there  seemed  a  strange  coin- 
cidence in  this  visit  so  soon  after  the 
meeting  at  the  depot. 

"  Here's  something  that  will  interest 
you,  Fred,"  announced  the  accomplice, 
smiling.  "The  fair  Fannie  of  your 
ocean  voyage  is  still  waiting  for  the 
letter  you  promised  her.  Shell  prob- 
ably be  writing  herself  soon  to  see 
what's  the  matter." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Fred  quietly. 

"Well,  here  is  all  our  correspond- 
ence back  again,  anyway,"  continued 
the  accomplice,  "death  notice,  letter 
of  condolence  and  all.  '  Returned  for 
better  address.  Not  at  Sot  Swan 
Street '  is  stamped  across  the  envelope, 
which  seems  to  have  been  sent  to  the 
Dead  Letter  Ofdce  at  Washington  and 
opened.  Sure  Miss  Portman  told  you 
801  Swan  street?" 

Fred  looked  up  his  notebook  and 
found  upon  examination  that  the  ad- 
dress was  301,  not  Sol.  And  as  the 
Portmans  did  not  live  in  Buifalo,  but 
were  simply  visiting  friends  there,  and 
accordingly  were  not  known,  the  ex- 
planation of  the  returned  letters  was 

Then  Fred  laughed.  And  when  the 
accomplice  had  been  told  the  story  of 
the  Bonaventure  depot  he  laughed. 
After  which  both — particularly  Fred — 
had  many  things  to  say  of  woman's 
fickleness  and  infidelity,  of  how  a  poor 
chap  could  never  know  when  he  was 
not  being  taken  in  and  made  game  of, 
and  of  how  Miss  Fannie  Portman  must 
have  been  engaged  to  that  other  chap 

Digitized  by  VjOO'JIC 



all  along,  and  was  only  amusing  her- 
self with  Fred  as  a  convenient  means 
of  pastime.  Though  on  this  latter 
point  Fred  was  not  so  enthusiastic  as 
the  accomplice,  for  he  had  been  taking 
some  quiet  pride  in  thinking,  as  has 
been  mentioned,  what  a  tremendous 
fellow  among  the  women  he  might  be 
if  he  tried. 

The  next  day  Fred  left  his  card  at  the 
Queen's  for    Mr.   and  Mrs.  Wetmore, 

who,  as  it  happened,  were  out  when  he 
called  (which  he  had  taken  good  care 
to  see  would  happen).  And  some  days 
afterwards,  in  a  burst  of  confidence,  he 
could  not  help  telling  the  whole  story 
to  Mrs.  Fred  (with  such  few  variations 
and  embellishments  as  he  considered 
essential  to  her  full  enjoyment  of  the 
narrative),  and  Mrs.  Fred  thought  it 
was  a  capital  joke  indeed. 


By  Rev.  Professor  E.  W.  Huntingford,  Trinity  College. 

WHEN  an  election  is  taking  place 
the  men  who  have  the  votes  to 
^ve  are  usually  spoken  of  as  the  "  free 
and  independent "  electors.  The  words 
may  be  used  with  a  certain  amount  of 
mental  reservation,  there  may  be  a 
good  deal  of  mockery  lurking  in  them  ; 
but,  whether  they  are  called  so  in  ex- 
press terms  or  not,  electors  do  like  to 
think  themselves  free  and  independent. 
Qf  course  they  are  not.  Everyone 
knows  that  they  are  not,  and  they 
know  it  themselves  ;  but  it  sounds  well. 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  absolute 
liberty  upon  this  earth  any  more  than 
there  is  equality  ;  and  fraternity  does 
not  improve  its  chances.  Anyone  who 
yearns  to  be  entirely  free  had  better 
set  up  for  himself  upon  a  desert  island 
where  he  can  be  like  Robinson  Crusoe 
or  Alexander  Selkirk,  "monarch  of  all 
he  surveys," — a  style  of  living  which 
approaches  remarkably  near  to  the 
luxury  of  penal  servitude,  to  such  an 
extent  do  extremes  meet.  The  con- 
ventionalities of  the  world,  the  usages 
of  society,  the  opinions  and  wishes  of 
the  rest  of  mankind  curtail  everyone's 
freedom  to  some  extent ;  and  in  poli- 
tics men  depend  to  a  very  large  extent 
upon  party  platforms  which  are  built 
for  them  by  others.  They  think  they 
make    their  own  opinions   for  them- 

selves, but  very  few  do,  any  more  than 
they  make  their  own  clothes  ;  they  pat 
them  on  ready  made,  and  they  don't 
always  fit. 

Would  it  do  to  have  no  party  plat- 
forms ?  Would  things  get  on  any  bet- 
ter if  there  was  no  such  thing  as  party 
organization  or  canvassing?  Suppos- 
ing it  were  possible  for  an  election  to 
be  suddenly  sprung  upon  an  unprepared 
community  ;  supposing  a  certain  num- 
ber of  candidates  were  presented  to 
the  people,  whose  personal  characters 
were  better  known  to  them  than  their 
politics,  and  each  free  and  independent 
voted  according  to  the  promptings  of 
his  own  inner  consciousness,  would 
the  f  lectors  know  which  way  their  rep- 
resentative would  go  on  any  particular 
question?  and  would  the  representa- 
tive know  which  way  his  constituents 
expected  him  to  go  ?  And  in  a  House 
composed  of  members  thus  elected, 
what  difRculties  there  would  be  in 
forming  well  defined  parties !  They 
would  divide  one  way  upon  one  ques- 
tion and  another  upon  another,  and 
the  Government  would  be  hard  put  to 
it  to  know  whether  they  had  the  con- 
fidence of  the  House  or  not,  and  whe- 
ther the  House  had  the  confidence  of 
the  country  or  not. 

In  some  primitive  states  of  society 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


rival  candidates  have  settled  their 
claims  by  a  free  fi^ht.  This  occasion- 
ally happened  in  ancient  Rome,  the 
State  which  laid  the  foundation  of 
modern  social  systems,  and  it  has  not 
been  absolutely  unknown  in  Ireland. 
There  have  been  times  when  the  results 
of  elections  depended  upon  sentiment, 
when  the  issue  turned  upon  personal 
feelings,  the  liking  for  this  or  that  man's 
ways  and  private  character. 

But  such  things  are  getting  rather 
out  of  date  ;  in  these  days  the  real  in- 
terest is  money.  When  all  is  said  and 
done,  the  practical  issue  in  the  mind 
of  each  voter  is  "  which  party  will 
brin^  most  grist  to  my  mill  if  it  is  in 
power?  "  If  he  thinks  that  one  plat- 
form has  a  tendency  to  put  more  dol- 
lars and  cents  in  his  pocket,  then  he 
votes  for  that  party  ;  if  the  other  party 
can  persuade  him  that  they  can  make 
him  richer,  then  he  gives  his  vote  to 
them.  And  what  is  to  settle  his  deci- 
sion ?  The  most  practical  considera- 
tions, of  course.  When  a  man  comes 
to  you  and  says,  "  1  have  here  an  in- 
vention which  enables  me  to  control 
the  riches  of  the  world, "  and  offers  you 
a  share  in  his  discovery  and  the  bene- 
fits which  ensue  from  it,  you  will  per- 
haps begin  to  thank  him,  with  that 
warmth  of  emotion  which  characterizes 
you,  for  his  extreme  kindness  and 
liberality  to  an  entire  stranger.  But 
when  he  suggests  that  all  that  is  need- 
ed is  a  little  financial  support  from 
yourself  to  put  the  scheme  into  work- 
ing order,  the  hard  and  suspicious  side 
of  your  human  nature  comes  into  play 
and  you  begin  to  think.  Vou'  notice 
that  his  pants  bag  at  the  knees,  that 
his  coat  is  just  a  trifle  shiny  in  parts, 
and  that  his  linen  is  not  quite  so  clean 
as  what  a  Crcesus  might  be  expected 
to  wear.  Unworthy  suspicion .!  Per- 
haps such  a  man  has  a  soul  above  mere 
smartness  of  apparel  !  But  the  suspi- 
cion sticks  ;  you  put  yourself  in  his 
place  ;  you  imagine  what  you  would  do 
yourself  if  you  had  come  into  posses- 
sion of  the  secret  key  to  unlimited 
wealth.  You  know  very  well  that  you 
would  keep  it  to  yourself;  you  wouldn't 
give  it  away  to  the  first  man  you  met 

on  the  strei 
work  it  for 
to  the  worli 
in  it.  Wl 
You  want  | 
A  politic 
the  voter 
come  and 
power  and 
money."  fi 
have  you  r 
cau.e,  if  y. 
trusting  m 

But  if  tl 
"  Look  her 
dollars ;  pu 
enable  you 
proofs  you 
bill  for  you. 

"I  belies 
for  you." 

says,  "  Wt 



good  dea! 
country  thi 
done  better 
do  you  thin 
him  a  twen 

to  alter  the 

It  is  quite 
would  coot 
sort,  and  I 
hard  and  u 
England  bo 
franchised  f 
shows  how 
miss  the  be: 
about  disho 
if  it  was  dis 
turn  when  I 
was  dishorn 
party  who 
best  for  y 01 
listen  to  a 
kind  of  argi 
value — exc« 
they  have  tl 
his  vote  ipse 

We  have 
ter  from  thi 

Digitized  by  Google 



let  us  look  at  it  also  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  candidate  for  election,  es- 
pecially when  he  is  elected. 

He  expends  money.  Now,  no  wise 
man  expects  to  gtt  something  for  no- 
thing, nor  does  any  one  but  a  fool 
think  of  paying  something  for  nothing. 
What  return,  then,  does  our  friend 
reckon  upon  for  his  expenditure  ?  Is 
it  the  honour  of  being  declared  member 
for  Jonesville  ?  Is  it  the  delight  and 
satisfaction  of  hearing  his  own  voice 
in  Parliament?  Is  it  the  power  which 
he  feels  is  in  his  hands  as  he  records 
his  vote  upon  questions  of  momentous 
interest  to  his  country  P  There  are 
those  whose  vanity  on  the  one  hand  or 
whose  old-fashioned  notions  on  the 
other  are  satisfied  with  such  things. 
But  we  assume  that  our  friend  is  a 
practical  man,  just  as  much  as  the 
elector,  and  up-to-date.  "  Honour, 
power,"  says  he,  "  what  are  they 
worth  P  "  He  sees  that  they  give  him 
not  only  the  position  of  a  public  man, 
with  letters  after  his  name,  so  that  he 
can  be  sure  that  he  is  somebody,  and 
that  other  people  know  it,  but  they 
provide  him  besides  with  various  op- 
portunities of  takingout  of  the  pockets 
of  the  community  the  money  which  he 
has  put  into  it,  and  perhaps  more,  if  he 
has  luck— who  knows  ? 

What  these  opportunities  are,  this  is 
not  the  place  to  say,  and  he  does  not 
talk  about  them  publicly  himself ;  but 
they  seem  to  be  well  known  to  a  good 

many  people,  particularly  party  jour- 
nalists, and,  curiously  enough,  those 
of  the  opposite  party ;  and  they,  for 
their  part,  invariably  speak  of  them 
with  pious  horror,  which  is  still  more 

Why  should  a  fuss  be  made  about 
what  is,  iiftcr  all,  a  mere  matter  of 
business  P  What  need  is  there  to  drag 
in  such  words  as  "honesty"  and 
"dishonesty?"  Why  make  a  pre- 
tence of  surprise  with  horror'Struck 
liftings  of  hands  and  abuse  "  the 
politician?  "  Money  is  paid  and  money 
is  made,  and  politics  is  a  game  in 
which  large  sums  change  hands.  Well, 
the  money  circulates  at  all  events,  and 
the  circulation  of  money  means  pros- 
perity ;  and  if  a  man  is  clever  enough 
to  spend  his  money,  or  anyone  else's 
money  for  that  matter,  so  as  to  be  in 
a  position  to  gather  in  the  spoils  of 
victory,  he  deserves  the  reward  of  his 
cleverness.  He  is  the  ox  treading  out 
the  political  corn,  and  it  is  but  common 
fairness  that  he  should  not  be  muzzled. 

This  theory  seems  to  be  based  upon 
sound  reasons,  and  to  be  in  conformity 
with  many  of  the  facts  of  the  practical 
politics  of  the  day  as  they  are  stated 
by  the  journals,  who  are  our  instruct- 
ors in  Political  Science.  There  is, 
however,  a  wild  possibility  that  it  may 
be  considered  wrong.  If  so,  there  is 
perhaps  "something  rotten  in  the 
State  of  Denmark,"  What  needs  alter- 
ingV    And  who  shall  do  it  ? 


I  HAVE  no  heart  lo-nlKht  lo  sing. 
And  sitting  here  I  think  of  you  ; 
No  dusky  bird  is  on  the  wing, 
One  star  bums  brig:htly  in  the  blue. 

I  think  of  you,  nor  hath  the  night 
A  trace  of  sadness  for  me  now  ; 
She  charms  me  with  her  shadow -lig:ht. 
The  carmine  star  upon  her  brow. 

Your  star— above  the  fading  hills 
I  watch  for  it  when  twilighl  falls  i 
When  life  with  quiet  dreaming  fills. 
And  thro'  the  dusk  ihe  robin  c!>1In. 

Helen  MerriU. 

Digitized  by  Google 

ll\JLULI\l'C       VlUrlL^P,       CSWEiPONDtNT. 


TT  is  a  dull  and  unprofitable  time  for     and    good-lellowship,  but    each  man 
*■     the  narcorrespondents  when,  after     keenly  watched  his  colIea|fue  in  case 
the  British  public  has  been  worked  up     that  he  might  have  any  exclusive  news 
to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement  and  ex-     worthy  of  a  telegram  to  the  London 
pectancy  by  the  opening  telegrams  of     papers. 

the  commencement  of  wars,  the  time  I  had  returned  late  one  night  to  my 

comes  when  both  belligerents,  after  a  .......... 

few  outpost  affairs,  mark  time  for 
awhile,  preparing  for  some  grand  coup. 
It  is  at  this  period  all  kinds  of  rumours 
are  rife,  and  the  war  correspondent 
must  use  considerable  discrimination. 
Many  a  time  a  canard  will  appear  in 
some  rival  daily  which  will  bringdown 
the  wrath  of  one's  own  journal.  And 
anxious  telegrams  are  despatched,  in- 
quiring :  "  Why  on  earth    haven't  you 

seat  us  this  ?     What  are  you  up  to  ?     door. 

quarters  at  the  Hotel  Abbat,  after 
quite  a  jovial  meeting  of  the  corres- 
pondents at  the  rendezvous.  It  seem- 
ed to  me  that  1  had  hardly  fallen 
asleep,  when  1  was  startled  by  a  loud 
knocking  at  my  bedroom  door. 

"  What  the  deuce  are  you  up  to?" 
I  shouted,  as  I  sprang  from  my  bed. 
"You'll  break  the  door  in.  Here  I 
Stop  that  row.  I'm  coming." 

And  in  another  moment  I  opened  the 

Keep  awake  t ' 

In  fact,  to  the  conscientious  cor- 
reitpondent  the  waiting  for  the  cam- 
paign to  begin  is  exceedingly  trying. 
Many  war  correspondents  had  been 
vegetating  in  this  way  in  Alexandria, 
after  the  famous  bombardment  by 
Sir  Beauchamp  Seymour,  waiting  for 
the  military  programme  to  develop. 

Transports  with  British  troops  were 
now  arriving  daily  at  the  Marina,  and 
the  long- looked- for  advance  against 
the  Egyptians  was  anticipated  at  any 
moment.  The  war  correspondents 
mostly  congregated,  of  an  evening,  at 
the  Hotel-de-Nil,  apparently  in  amity 

You  must  have  taken  too  much 
whiskey  last  night.  I've  been  trying 
to  wake  you  for  the  last  fifteen  min- 
utes !  "  said  my  friend  and  colleague. 
Drew  Gaylor,  the  correspondent  of  a 
London  daily. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  all  about,  now 
you're  here!"said  I.  "At  this  time 
in  the  morning,  too,  to  kick  up  such 
an  infernal  shindy  !  " 

"  Put  on  your  boots  and  come 
along,"  said  my  friend,  as  he  looked 
at  his  watch.  "  In  another  hour  the 
first  dance  of  the  ball  of  the  cam- 
paign, for  a  surety,  will  begin." 

I  looked  at  him  as  1  sat  on  the  edge 

Digitized  by  VjOt^ 



of  the  bed,  half-dazed  with  my  sudden 

* '  You're  sure  it  isn't  a  fool's  errand?" 
I  asked,  "  for  you  know  we've  been 
sold  with  scares  upon  scares  for  the 
last  five  days." 

"  No,  it's  all  right,"  he  answered. 
I  got  the  tip  last  night.  The  first 
regiment  has  been  on  the  march  for 
the  last  two  hours  already,  and  this 
time  business  is  meant,  for  a  cer- 
tainty. " 

"  Well,  Gaylor,  it's  very  good  of 
you  to  trouble  yourself  about  me. 
But  I  haven't  got  a  horse,  so  don't  let 
me  be  a  burden  to  you,"  still  doubting 
the  news ;  "  1  will  come  on  later." 

"  I've  got  a  mount  for  you,"  said 
my  friend.  "  It's  all  right.  She  is  a 
sorry-looking  beast,  but  she  will  carry 
you  through  the  day  for  what  work  we 
want.  Saddle,  bridle,  and  all,  so 
don't  waste  time;  get  into  your  boots 
and  come  along.  We  shall  be  the  only 
men  there  ;  and,  Villiers,  you  will  have 
to  thank  me  for  a  good  start  in  this 
campaign,  for  we  shall  be  back  with 
the  news  before  the  other  fellows  have 
been  fuliy  awakened  to  the  fact  that 
there  is  fighting  going  on." 

It  was  not  long  before  1  was  out  in 
the  open,  and  mounted  on  the  grey 
mare  Gaylor  had  so  thoughtfully 
brought  for  me.  My  quarters  were 
bear  the  Ramie h  railway  station. 
The  Mediterranean  washed  the  shingle 
just  below  my  window. 

We  rode  along  the  shore  for  a  few 
hundred  yards,  skirting  the  famous 
obelisks  which  had  been  standing  mon- 
uments in  Cleopatra's  time,  and  which 
were  now  tying  half-buried  in  the  sand 
and  the  scum  and  wash  of  the  ttdeless 

I  little  thought  at  that  moment  that 
only  a  few  years  later  I  should  be  look- 
ing at  one  of  those  obelisks  from  the 
luxurious  table  of  a  dining-room  on  the 
Thames  Embankment,  and  that  shortly 
after  I  should  be  smoking  a  cigar  in 
the  moonlight  while  trying  to  decipher 
on  its  base  the  hieroglyphics  on  the 
faces  of  the  other  in  Central  Park,  New 
York  City. 

It  was  scarcely  yet  dawn,  and   we 

would  not  trust  ourselves  to  the  possi- 
bility of  delay  at  the  Rosetta  Gate,  for 
the  draw-bridge  was  never  down  till 
sunrise,  so  Gaylor  stuck  to  the  railway 
embankment.  This  was  a  very  good 
idea,  as  the  metals  ran  straight 
through  the  enemy's  line,  and  by  fol- 
lowing them  we  were  bound  to  get 
somewhere  near  the  front. 

It  was  rather  risky  work  in  more 
senses  than  one,  for  there  was  a  dull, 
grey  mist  hanging  around  us,  forcing 
us  to  keep  well  between  the  rails  for 
fear  of  a  tumble  down  the  sides  of  the 

After  the  first  excitement,  at  sud- 
denly finding  myself  on  the  eve  of  a 
big  adventure,  I  pulled  myself  together 
and  began  to  examine  the  steed  that 
was  carrying  me.  She  was  an  iron- 
grey  weak-kneed  looking  brute,  with 
her  right  ear  lying  flat  along  her  neck. 
This  gave  her  a  very  vicious  aspect.  I 
had  seen  horses  up  country  in  Aus- 
tralia look  similar  to  my  animal,  when 
on  the  point  of  buck-jumping,  so  I 
said  to  Gaylor  : 

"What  are  the  bad  points  about 
this  horse  ?  She  looks  a  vicious  beast, 

"  Oh,   it's  all    right,  Villiers  ;  she's 
as  quiet  as  a  lamb  now." 
"  Was  she  ever  wicked  ?  " 
"  Yes,  she  had  a  devil   of  a    temper 
once,  but  I  cured  her," 

"  Well,  how  do  you  account  for  that 
ugly-looking  ear  "  ? 

"That's  the  point,"  said  my  friend. 
"  She  showed  a  bit  of  temper  one 
morning,  for  not  only  would  she  not 
let  me  mount  her,  but  she  wanted  to 
eat  me  at  the  same  time.  So  I  simply 
tried  an  old  South  African  dodge, 
which  is  always  efficacious.  I  gave 
the  brute  a  clout  over  her  right  ear 
with  a  crowbar  which  laid  it  flat  along 
her  neck,  as  you  see,  and  it  has  re- 
mained there  ever  since."  . 

"That  was  rather  an  extreme  mea- 
sure, wasn't  it?"  said  1. 

"Yes,  but  it  did  its  work  thor- 
oughly. You  can  trust  that  animal 
with  your  best  girl  now  ;  she  is  as 
sweet  a  tempered  beast  as  you  can 
come  across." 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


1  was  young  and  trustful  in  those 
days,  and  though  it  seemed  a.  cruet 
way  of  horse-training,  I  never  doubted 
my  friend's  South  African  experiences 
for  a  moment  ;  especially  as  the  mare 
picked  her  way  over  the  sleepers,  and 
never  showed  a  bit  of  vice  or  temper 
all  throuf^h  the  day. 

On  approaching  the  village  of  Ram- 
leh  the  line  swerved  to  the  left,  and 
passed  through  a  station  that  had  a 
suggestion  of  a  Swiss  chalet  about  it. 
At  the  back  of  the  station,  on  a  hilly 
piece  of  ground  which  further  dipped 
down  towards  the  sea,  were  a  few 
rather  fine-looking  villas  ;  and  in  a 
garden,  in  the  centre  of  a  clump  of 
palm  trees,  was  the  hotel,  "  De  Beau 
Sejour. "  There  was  not,  however, 
much  of  beau  Sejour  now  about  the 
vicinity,  for  down  by  the  station  on 
the  night  before,  under  the  Egyptian 
moon  and  the  shadow  of  swaying 
palms,  a  bloody  little  skirmish  had 
taken  place.  The  modern  chalet  of 
the  station  had  received  an  unbidden 
visit  from  the  picturesque,  ancient- 
garbed  Bedouins  of  the  desert.  The 
ticket-office  was  riddled  with  bullets, 
and  the  signal-post  for  the  down-line 
was  so  knocked  out  of  gear  thatit  was 
no  longer  in  working  order.  This 
mattered  little,  for  there  was  no  train 
service  nowadays,  with  the  exception 
of  the  iron-clad  truck  on  which  a  six- 
pounder  had  been  mounted  by  the 
bluejackets.  The  line  was  always 
clear  to  them  ;  if  not,  they  cleared  it 
with  common  shell. 

There  was  not  a  living  creature  in  or 
round  this  village  of  beau  Sejour  when 
he  passed  through  that  morning,  save  a 
few  stray  dogs,  which  had  been  sniffing 
about  the  bodies  of  two  or  three  of  our 
Bedouin  enemies  who  had  bitten  the 
dust  in  the  night  attack  on  the  station, 
and  were  now  lying  prone  across  the 
metals  about  a  hundred  yards  away. 

Out  towards  the  desert  on  our  right, 
the  line  ran  along  a  high  embankment 
over  the  plain,  looking  in  its  contor- 
tions like  a  veritable  sea-serpent 
stranded  on  the  sand.  The  head  of  the 
monster  seemed  to  rise  a  little  as  it 
was  lost  in  the  enemy's  camp  at  Kaffir- 

El-Donar,  its  tail  trailing  ol 
the  chalet  station,  where  fc 
ment  we  had  come  to  a  halt. 

A  ration  of  canned  beef  an 
was  consumed  under  the  £ 
the  booking-office.  The  sua, 
even  now  only  half  an  hour 
horizon,  had  dispelled  the  t 
ing  over  the  desert,  and  ha 
mirages  so  wonderful  in  the: 
that  Gaylor  and  I  felt  inclin 
down  to  one  of  those  fairy 
take  a  headlong  dip  in  its  i 
esque  waters. 

About  a  mile  from  the  s 
came  across  some  men  of 
Rifles.  These  were  strippe 
flannels,  and  hastily  thrc 
breast-works.  From  one 
grim  relic  had  been  unearthi 
most  perfect  skeleton  of  amar 
with  his  usual  humour,  ha 
scarecrow  of  it,  and  had  stuc 
the  top  of  the  parapet  as  a  v 
and  significant  warning  to  th 
marksmen.  Every  moment 
jects  were  being  discoverei 
Atkins  sweated  and  swore  at 
now  metal  buttons,  now  b 
and  now  shreds  of  cloth.  I 
some  of  the  buttons,  I  foum 
be  of  English  regimental  pat 
a  belt-clasp  was  decidedl} 
Why,  of  course  !  Here  we 
paring  to  fight  on  the  vei 
where,  three-quarters  of  a  ce: 
the  English  under  AbercromI 
the  French,  under  Menon, 
found  a  common  grave, 
what  better  purpose  could  th 
those  brave  men  be  put  than 
dust  should  protect  the  livinj 
bullets  of  the  foe?  Whei 
Atkins  realized  that  the  bt 
probably  of  those  that  v 
brethren-in-arms,  there  wa 
more  scarecrows  decorating 
apets  of  the  trenches. 

Our  scouts  were  already 
with  the  enemy,  Down  by 
palms,  fig  trees,  and  wild  ci 
ing  a  road  running  at  right 
the  railway  through  the  enei 
little  puffs  of  smoke  floated 

Men  were   busy  down  th 

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Round  and  about  a  few 
e  red  fezes  of  the  Egyp- 
>e  distinctly  seen,   on  the 

like  the  red  spots  dancing 
eyes  in  a  bilious  affection, 
ver,  did  not  trouble  the 
ig,  for  our  advancing  line 
rs  pressed  them  too  hard, 
n  broke  and  ran  towards 
r  their  works.  An  officer 
:e  horse  tried  to  rally  the 
}ut  his  charger  was  shot 
and  discretion  being  the 
r  valour  with  him,  he  hur- 

the  retreating  movement 

he  left  behind  lay  dead  in 
}f  a  thick  clump  of  palms 
of  the  road.  That  corner 
iric  during  the  campaign; 
5  under  the  enemy's  fire, 
e  Egyptians  neared  that 
(pot,  they  were  always 

if  later  on  in  the  day  mov- 
i  road,  not  knowing  that 
mullets  swept  so  far.    I  was 

three  hundred  yards  be- 
is  British  officer,  who  was 
Khyber  during  the  recent 
,  when  he  and  his  aide-de- 
lut  any  warning,  on  ap- 
e  angle,  plunged  down  the 
the  road,  carefully  avoid- 
imp  of  trees.  I  thought 
range  behaviour  until  I 
pot  myself,  when  a  sound, 
Ingof  mosquitoes,  aroused 
twang  of  a  bullet  or  two 
lody  of  the  dead  horse 
to  follow  the  example  of 
British  officer. 
>rse  Picket"  became  noted 
:ency  of  its  situation,  for 
;n  two  fires,  the  Egyptian 
ger  was  left  unburied. 
iphere  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
one  plug  one's  nose  with 
lever  the  wind  blew  off  the 

direction  of  the  camp. 
:es  of  war,  even  in  this  un- 
jetty  skirmish,  were  only 
In  the  shadow  of  one 
luts  on  the  roadside  lay  a 
m    dying.      She    had  just 

been  delivered  of  a  child,  which  lay 
dead  in  the  sand  by  her  side.  Bend- 
ing over  her  was  an  Arab  woman  who 
had  pluckily  remained  behind  when  the 
peasantry  took  to  flight  on  the  ap- 
proach of  the  British.  1  made  signs 
that  they  need  not  fear,  and  gave  them 
some  water.  This  premature  birth  had 
been  brought  on  by  fright,  on  account 
of  the  expected  cruelty  of  the  British 
soldiers,  tales  of  which  retreating 
Arabs  had  dinned  into  the  woman's 
ears.  I  assisted  her  comrade  in  plac- 
ing her  in  the  shadow  of  an  adjacent 
hut,  but  in  a  few  moments  the  poor 
creature  had  passed  away. 

With  the  exception  of  the  dead  horse 
and  the  negro  woman,  no  other  casual- 
ties occurred  in  the  first  infantry  brush 
with  the  enemy,  and  the  British  soldier 
was  soon  upon  the  road,  climbing  up 
the  fig  trees  and  quenching  his  thirst 
with  the  green,  juicy  pods. 

Occasionally  a  bullet  came  in  his  di- 
rection, but  figs  were  a  luxury,  and 
Tommy  didn't  mind  running  a  little 
risk.  We  ascertained,  however,  as  the 
result  of  this  skirmish,  that  Arabi  in* 
tended  to  remain  simply  on  the  defen- 
sive, that  the  enormous  wall  of  sun- 
dried  mud  cutting  the  road  and  rail- 
way at  Kaflir-El-Donar  was  to  be  our 
objective,  and  the  Egyptian  commander 
would  not  trouble  us  until  we  attacked 
his  stronghold. 

The  whole  affair  was  hardly  worth 
the  trouble  of  turning  out  of  our  beds 
so  early,  but  still  Gaylor  and  I  were  the 
only  correspondents  on  the  spot,  and 
probably  my  sketch  would  make  a  good 
poster  for  the  newsboys  to  cry  in  the 
streets  of  London,  and  so,  therefore, 
we  hurried  back  with  the  material. 
Ousty  and  weary,  we  sighted  the 
walls  of  Alexandria.  The  draw-bridge 
at  the  Rosetta  Gate  was  just  being  rais- 
ed up  for  the  night,  as  we  spurred  our 
horses  on  to  its  rotten  planks,  and  trot- 
ted through  the  streets  of  the  town  to 
our  quarters. 

As  we  walked  into  the  Hotel  Ahbat. 
we  could  not  hide  our  satisfaction  in 
scoring  over  our  fellow- correspondents. 
We  took  our  seats  at  the  table  and 
commenced    dinner.     Our    colleagues 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



bad  not  seen  us  all  day,  and  they  look- 
ed at  us  with  inquiring  glances.  A 
gloom  began  to  settle  on  their  faces,  as 
they  noticed  our  excellent  mood,  for 
there  had  been  thunder  in  the  air,  and 
they  suspected  that  we  had  been  where 
the  storm  had  burst.  There  were 
only  two  London  papers  next  morning 
that  published  the  first  infantry  brush 
with  the  enemy  in  the  Egyptian  cam- 
paign of  '83,  by  their  special  corre- 
spondents. The  vicious- loo  king  brute  I 
had  ridden  to  the  skirmish  I  saw  no 
more.  Three  months  afterwards  1  was 
requested  by  letter  to  visit  the  head- 
quarters staff  in  Alexandria. 

After  being  served  with  a  cup  of  colfee 
and  a  cigarette,  one  of  the  officers  said  : 

"  Were  you  ever  acquainted  with 
Mr.  Gaylor,  the  war  correspondent, 
who  has  recently  gone  back  to  Eng- 
land ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  I  replied  ;  "  I  knew  him 
quite  well," 

"  We  want  to  know  whether  you  re- 
member how  many  horses  he  had  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  can  tell  you  that  easily 
enough.  He  had  two,  one  of  which 
I've  ridden  myself.  One  was  a  brown, 
the  other  a  grey  horse." 

"  A  grey  mare,  Mr.  Villiers.  Do 
you  know  where  he  got  the  grey  mare?  " 

"No,"  I  replied. 

"  We  put  this  question,"  said  the 
officer,  "  because  there  is  an  old  Arab, 
who  has  been  bothering  us  for  many 
weeks  now,  and  who  accuses  Mr.  Gay 
lor  of  having  taken  the  horse  from  him, 
or  at  all  events  of  flinging  him  a  napo- 
leon and  requsitioning  the  animal ;  and 
the  Arab  does  not  consider  that  ade- 
quate payment  for  his  steed.  He  gives 
a  full  description  of  the  mare,  does  the 
Arab.  He  says  she  has  a  broken  right 
ear  that  lies  back  on  her  neck." 

"  Ah,"  I  cried,  "  that  Arab  must  be 
a  lying  old  scoundrel ;  it  is  certainly  a 
description  of  the  horse  I  rode,  but 
Gaylor  himself  broke  her  ear  to  cure 
her  of  her  bad  temper." 

The  officers  looked  at  me  with  aston- 

They  were  even  more  astonished 
when  I  told  them  of  Gaylor's  South 
African  experience  in  taming  horses, 
and  then  they  broke  into  roars  of 

Then  it  dawned  on  me,  and  I  laugh- 
ed too, 

To  be  Concluded. 



/~*OD  drew  the  toiler's  eyes  a 

1  land  that  promised 

All  upturned  to  the  smiling  sky  her  bosom  he  laid  bare 
Shamefaced,  across  the  russet  quick  she  drew 
Her  mantle,  diamon'ed  with  the  evening  dew. 

Then,  when  the  languorous  summer  day  was  done. 
All  blushing  from  caress  of  amorous  sun. 
She  rose,  and  shook  her  garment  out  with  care  : — 
The  toiler's  wealth  in  golden  grain  was  there. 

W.  A.  Fraser. 

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By  John  Lewis,  Editorial  Staff  of  Toronto  Globe. 

SO  rapid  has  been  the  progress  of 
imperial  ideas  in  Canada  during 
the  past  three  or  four  years,  and 
especially  during  the  war  in  South 
Africa,  that  it  is  natural  for  Imperial- 
ists to  believe  that  the  feeling  will  not 
evaporate  in  mere  sentiment,  but  that 
in  some  way  the  progress  will  be 
marked  and  made  secure  ;  that  there 
will  be  a  permanent  change  in  the  re- 
lations between  the  United  Kingdom 
and  the  outlying  communities  of  the 
Empire.  The  subject  is  usually  dis- 
cussed under  one  of  three  heads  :  (i) 
Imperial  Federation,  (2)  Preferential 
Trade,  (3)  Military  Co-operation. 

Imperial  Federation  has  been  advo- 
cated not  only  as  a  means  of  strength- 
ening the  Imperial  bond,  but  as  a 
means  of  placing  the  Colonies  on  an 
equal  footing  with  the  United  King- 
dom, In  theory  they  are  not  equal. 
The  Parliament  of  Great  Britain  is 
a  Parliament  elected,  as  to  its  pop- 
ular branch,  by  the  people  of  the 
United  Kingdom  alone  ;  and  yet  in 
theory  it  has  complete  power  over  the 
Colonies,  and  can  make,  amend,  or 
even  abrogate  their  constitutions.  The 
Ministry,  which  is  a  committee  of  that 
Parliament,  virtually  appoints  the  Gov- 
ernors of  the  Colonies,  and  one  Minister 
is  called  the  Secretary  of  State  for  the 
Colonies,  and  exercises  some  authority 
even  in  those  which  are  self-governing. 
Thus,  say  some  of  the  advocates  of 
Imperial  Federation,  we  are  placed  in 
a  position  of  inferiority.  We  are  sub- 
jects of  the  Queen,  but  we  ought  not 
to  be  subjects  of  subjects  ;  and  to  the 
extent  that  the  Imperial  Parliament  ex- 
ercises authority  over  us,  we  ought  to 
have  a  share  in  electing  its  members. 
It  is  difficult  to  answer  this  reasoning, 
except  by  pointing  out  that,  as  very  fre- 
quently happens  in  the  working  of  Brit- 
ish institutions,  theory  is  tempered  by 
practice.       We    are    left,     in     ninety- 

nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred,  to 
manage  our  own  affairs  ;  the  Brit- 
ish Parliament  would  not  dream  of 
altering  our  constitution  except  at 
our  own  request ;  we  give  the  Colonial 
Office  very  little  to  do,  and  the  Gov- 
ernor-General is  bound  to  act  upon  the 
advice  of  Ministers  responsible  to  the 
Parliament  and  the  people  of  Canada. 
During  the  excitement  of  the  last 
few  months,  however,  the  question 
has  arisen,  "  If  we  are  to  take  part  in 
Imperial  wars,  ought  we  not  to  have 
some  voice  in  the  making  of  the  con- 
ditions which  maintain  peace  or  lead 
up  to  war?"  It  is  much  easier  to 
answer  yes  than  to  devise  any  means 
by  which  our  voice  can  be  made 
effective.  Wars  are  not  made  by 
formal  resolutions  or  Acts  of  Parlia- 
ment. They  frequently  arise  from 
conditions  over  which  Parliament  has 
very  little  control.  Where  war  is  not 
actually  forced  upon  us  by  the  enemy, 
it  is  largely  due  to  conditions  created 
by  the  policy  and  administration  of  the 
Executive,  and  by  diplomatic  agents  in 
all  parts  of  the  world.  Parliament  has, 
of  course,  the  right  to  refuse  funds  for 
the  war,  but  when  war  is  once  in  pro- 
gress, this  check  is  merely  nominal, 
while  public  opinion  is  far  more  likely 
to  be  a  whip  than  a  curb.  The  history 
of  the  beginnings  and  causes  of  some 
wars  is  familiar  enough.  Some  act  of 
one  nation  causes  another  nation  to 
expostulate  ;  diplomatic  notes  are  ex- 
changed; men  in  newspaperoffices  write 
saucy  or  fiery  articles  ;  the  situation 
becomes  "  strained  "  ;  war  breaks  out ; 
peaceful  citizens  who  do  not  want  their 
windows  broken  take  refuge  in  time- 
honored  formulas,  "Whatever  may 
have  been  the  cause  of  this  most  un- 
fortunate war,  we  must  show  a  united 
front  to  the  enemy,"  or  "  I  am  oppos- 
ed to  war  in  general,  but  not  to  this 
particular   war."     The  moral  is,  that 

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the  only  means  of  exercising  influence 
in  foreif^n  relations  is  to  have  a  share 
in  the  chootiing  of  the  Ministry,  or  to 
have  the  ear  of  the  Ministry,  It  is  on 
the  conduct  of  the  Ministry,  on  the 
conduct  of  the  diplomatic  agents 
whom  it  appoints,  that  the  question  of 
peace  or  war  largely  depends.  A  Min- 
ister may  bring  about  war  either  by 
weakness  or  by  undue  aggressiveness. 
To  give  a  familiar  instance,  we  find 
some  people  blaming  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain for  the  present  war,  and  others 
saying  that  the  original  cause  was  the 
weakness  of  Mr.  Gladstone  in  giving 
up  the  Transvaal  nearly  twenty  years 
ago.  But  it  is  generally  recognized 
that  if  you  desire  to  give  an  effective 
expression  to  your  own  views,  you  must 
have  a  voice  which  will  help  to  deter- 
mine  whether  a  Gladstone  influence  or 
a  Chamberlain  influence  shall  prevail 
in  the  Ministry. 

To  give  the  colonies  such  a  voice  is 
a  problem  of  some  diiSculty.  What 
we  call  the  Imperial  Parliament  is  also 
a  domestic  parliament,  dealing  with 
such  matters  as  education,  the  services 
in  the  Anglican  church,  the  water  sup- 
ply of  London,  and  even  the  muzzling 
of  dogs.  The  difficulty  is  not  overcome 
by  saying  that  the  representatives  of 
Canada  and  Australia  need  not  vote  on 
theselocal  questions.  The  Ministry  is 
a  unit,  and  it  not  only  governs  but 
controls  legislation  of  all  kinds,  domes- 
tic as  well  as  Imperial,  relying  on  its 
parliamentary  majority.  If  colonial  re- 
presentatives  helped  to  sustain  or  de- 
feat a  Ministry  on  a  colonial  or  Imper- 
ial question,  they  would,  perforce,  help 
to  sustain  or  defeat  It  for  all  purposes ; 
and  they  would  thus  be  compelled  to 
take  sides  on  English  domestic  ques- 
tions. A  solution  of  the  difficulty 
would  be  Imperial  Federation  in  the  full 
sense,  that  is  to  say,  a  true  Imperial 
Parliament  for  the  Empire,  with  re- 
presentatives from  England,  Ireland, 
Wales,  Scotland,  Canada,  Australia, 
etc.,  and  a  domestic  legislature  for 
each ;  following  the  example  of  the 
Federal  Parliament  and  the  local  legis- 
latures of  Canada.  But  while  this 
plan  is  adequate  in  theory,  all  that  we 

know  of  the  history  and  tem; 
English  people  would  lead  i 
miss  from  the  range  of  prad 
lies  the  idea  of  constructing 
new  constitution  for  the  Empii 
Less  difficulty  arises  in 
of  giving  the  colonies  a  co) 
voice  in  Imperial  questions, 
colonial  representatives  woi 
no  power  to  make  or  bn 
ish  ministries,  but  would  sc 
link  between  the  colonies  and 
ish  Executive,  informing  the 
of  the  state  of  colonial  feelinf 
forming  the  colonies  of  the  \ 
plans,  consulting  with  the 
and  with  other  persons  of  inf 
British  politics.  Two  meth 
been  proposed.  One  is  to  g: 
dians  and  Australians  seati 
House  of  Lords.  This  is  on  1 
the  worst  proposal  that  the 
ingenuity  of  man  could  by  a] 
bility  have  devised.  If  the 
peers  are  chosen  by  the  Brit  is 
live,  there  is  no  guarantee  I 
will  represent  the  choice  of  t 
of  the  colonies.  If  they  are  ( 
a  colonial  government.  Libers 
servative,  they  will  be  chosen 
reasons  and  the  positions  w 
garded  as  rewards  for  party 
If  they  are  chosen  by  the  Pa 
we  may  expect  either  political 
ments,  or  the  wire  pulling  and 
ing  which  characterize  electio 
American  Senate  by  the  State 
tures.  The  popular  election  i 
is,  I  suppose,  not  seriously 
plated  ;  the  suggestion  sets  i 
a  very  odd  train  of  reflectio 
however  the  selection  might 
the  colonial  peer  would  not  b 
representative  of  colonial  put 
ion,  and  time  would  put  him  i 
more  out  of  touch  with  his  coi 
if  so  they  may  be  called, 
nection  of  English  with 
opinion  would  be  purely  ari: 
and  tremendous  social  pressu 
be  brought  to  bear  upon  ' 
ding  peer  by  the  men  with  1 
rolls  and  historic  names,  v 
echoes  of  colonial  disapprov; 
sound  very    faintly   in   his    i 

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would  be  absurd  to  compare  such  meo 
as  representatives  of  colonial  opinion 
with  the  Governments  and  free  Parlia- 
ments of  the  colonies. 

The  most  feasible  suggestion  that 
the  discussion  has  elicited,  is  that 
representatives  of  the  Ministries  of 
the  various  parts  of  the  Empire  should 
meet  occasionally  or  perodically,  and 
exchange  views  on  Imperial  ques- 
tions. This  is  not,  perhaps,  a  very  am- 
hitious  or  far-reaching  proposal ;  but 
it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  an  Im- 
perial Council  would  really  have  very 
few  questions  with  which  to  deal. 
The  affairs  of  Canada  and  of  the 
Australian  Colonies  are  almost  entirely 
managed  by  their  own  Parliaments  and 
Legislatures.  India  and  Egypt  are 
governed  by  a  civil  service  of  very 
peculiar  training  and  experience  ;  and 
the  advice  of  a  Canadian  or  Aus- 
tralian on  such  matters  would  be  re- 
garded as  little  as  the  advice  of  an 
Indian  officer  as  to  how  we  should 
govern  Canada.  South  Africa  is  now 
in  a  state  of  transition,  but  will,  it  is 
generally  supposed,  come  into  the 
same  class  with  Canada  and  Australia. 
The  Council  would  be  required  to  deal 
with  a  very  few  leading  questions  in 
their  large  outlines.  It  would  be  purely 
advisory,  having  no  taxing  or  law- 
making powers  ;  and  its  chief  value 
would  be  in  giving  the  colonial 
Ministers  a  better  idea  of  the  drift  of 
Imperial  affairs,  and  in  exchanging  in- 
formation as  to  how  far  each  of  the 
Parliaments  represented  would  be  like- 
ly to  go  in  various  Imperial  projects. 
If  this  proposal  is  modest,  it  is  also 
practical,  and  does  not  call  for  the  re- 
casting of  the  constitution  or  interfere 
in  any  way  with  existing  institutions. 

A  measure  of  preferential  trade  now 
exists  through  the  action  of  the  Cana- 
dian Parliament  in  admitting  British 
imports  into  this  country  at  two-thirds 
of  the  ordinary  duty.  It  is  probable 
that  this  is  as  far  as  the  Canadian  Par- 
liament would  go  without  some  reci- 
procal action  on  the  part  of  the  Parlia- 
ment of  Great  Britain.  The  argument 
of  those  who  favour  such  a  reciprocal 
arrangement  may  be  thus  stated  :  The 

people  of  Great  Britain  are  now  de- 
pendent to  a  very  large  extent  upon 
foreign  sources  of  food  supply.  By 
this  condition,  in  the  event  of  war,  they 
might  be  in  serious  danger  of  being 
starved  into  submission  ;  and  a  very  . 
heavy  blow  might  be  struck  at  them 
by  an  embargo  on  the  export  of  wheat 
and  other  food  from  the  United  States. 
A  protective  duty  on  foreign  wheat  and 
Other  staple  foods  would  stimulate 
production  in  the  United  Kingdom  aad 
the  colonies,  and  would  thus  eventual- 
ly render  the  Empire  self-sustaining 
in  that  regard.  To  this  argument, 
which  is  military  in  its  character,  there 
are  added  the  usual  arguments  in 
favour  of  protection.  If  protection 
were  applied,  not  only  to  food  but  to 
manufactures  of  cotton,  woollens  and 
iron,  the  staples  of  English  and  Scotch 
industry,  and  if  these  staples  were  ad- 
mitted into  the  colonies  free  of  duty, 
the  British  manufacturer  would  have 
the  whole  Empire  for  his  field,  in  the 
same  manner  as  the  Massachusetts  or 
Pennsylvania  manufacturer  has  the 
market  of  the  United  States  ;  and  he 
would  thus  be  far  less  dependent  than 
now  upon  foreign  markets. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  standing 
alone  this  is  a  seductive  programme. 
There  are,  however,  some  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  its  practical  applica- 
tion. It  would  be  necessary  for  its 
advocates  to  carry  on  at  one  and 
the  same  time  a  protectionist  propa- 
ganda in  England  and  a  free  trade 
propaganda  in  the  colonies.  I  shall 
not  endeavour  to  estimate  here  the 
chances  of  the  British  people  return- 
ing to  protection.  If  the  change  were 
seriously  proposed,  the  heat  of  a  con- 
test would  develop  on  both  sides 
forces  which  cannot  be  measured  in  ad- 
vance by  a  person  writing  at  a  desk 
four  thousand  miles  away.  But  there 
is  a  political  difficulty  which  may,  with- 
out presumption,  be  pronounced  very 
formidable.  Party  government  prevails 
in  England,  and  one  can  hardly  imagine 
protection  being  carried  without  the 
support  of  one  of  the  great  political 
parties.  One  might  go  a  step  further 
and  say  that  it  will  not  be  carried  un- 

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less  it  is  taken  up  by  the  Conservative 
party.  It  is  almost  certain  that  the 
Conservative  party  would  not  take 
such  a  step  in  the  present  condition  of 
affairs.  On  the  question  of  the  war 
in  South  Africa,  and  of  the  political 
settlement  after  the  war,  the  party  is 
united,  and  undoubtedly  has  the  sup- 
port of  the  vast  majority  of  the  elect- 
ors. The  Liberal  party  is  divided  and 
unpopular.  Politicians  are  practical 
people,  and  are  always  amenable 
to  the  argument,  "  let  well  alone." 
It  is  unlikely  that  the  Conservative 
party  would  borrow  trouble  by  intro- 
ducing a  new  and  uncertain  issue,  no 
matter  how  strongly  they  might  be 
convinced  that  protection  would  be 
good  for  the  country.  They  would 
argue  that  it  would  at  once  solidify  the 
Liberal  party  and  give  it  "a  happy  is- 
sue  out  of  all  its  troubles  " — a  plat- 
form on  which  all  its  members  could 
stand,  a  theme  for  oratory,  and  an  op- 
portunity for  evoking  enthusiasm,  by 
an  appeal  to  the  old  Liberal  traditions. 
New  life  would  be  infused  into  the 
Cobden  Club,  its  literature  would  be 
no  longer  merely  academic,  and  Cob- 
den, Bright  and  Gladstone  would  once 
more  be  names  to  conjure  with.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  the  Conservative  party 
would  call  these  forces  into  life  unless 
it  were  in  sore  need  of  a  policy,  and 
unless  also  it  had  a  condition  of  depres- 
sion and  general  discontent  upon  which 
to  work.  It  might  perhaps  be  put- 
ting it  rather  strongly,  to  say  that  a 
despondent  party  and  a  despondent 
country  would  be  conditious  precedent 
to  a  revival  of  protection  in  Great 
Britain  ;  but  1  think  that  is  approxi- 
mately true.  Lately  there  has  been 
advanced  a  proposal  for  a  very  limited 
measure  of  protection  ;  namely,  the 
substitution  of  a  duty  on  wheat,  say 
four  cents  a  bushel,  for  the  present 
duty  on  tea.  Whether  this  could  be 
placed  before  the  British  people  with- 
out raising  the  whole  issue  of  free 
trade  and  protection  is  doubtful ;  it  is 
a  matter  as  to  which  it  will  be  wiser  to 
watch  public  opinioa  in  England  than 
to  prophesy. 

1  come  now  to  the  propaganda  which 

it  would  be  necessar 
the  colonies.  Mr. 
said  that  a  necessary 
serious  censideratio 
would  be  the  free  adi 
manufactures  into  th 
true  that  Mr.  Cham 
does  not  settle  the 
this  case  what  he  sa) 
with  considerations  I 
everyone  must  appri 
ish  manufacturer  doe 
ference  on  paper. 
his  cottons,  woollen; 
iron  and  steel  in  tl 
creased  quantities, 
it  worth  his  while  to 
fiscal  change  in  Eng 
berlain  wants  to  b 
increase  will  be 
Therefore,  he  says,  i 
not  want  merely  a 
the  foreigner,  but  a 
mission  of  our  goot 
kets.  The  Englis 
the  scheme  would 
and  Scotland  should 
vania  and  Massachu: 
mercial  union,  and  C 
tralia  the  Minnesota 
just  here  that  the  id 
manufacturer  and 
manufacturer  are  Hk 
conflict.  One  of  the 
by  Cobden  in  favor 
that  it  would  bring  e 
under  which  Great  B 
ing  its  food  from  tl 
would  pay  for  it  in 
tures.  He  pictured 
side  of  the  Atlantic  ; 
artisans  capable  of 
supply  of  manufactui 
the  other  side  as  agri< 
tng  infinitely  more 
themselves  consume 
beef ;  and  the  two  ' '  a 
to  exchange  with  eai 
duct  of  their  commo 
argument  failed  to  ta 
industrial  ambition 
the  United  States,  I 
course  of  time  it  beci 
manufacturing  com 
rival  as  well   as  a  < 

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Britain.  It  is  easy  now  to  be  wise 
after  the  event,  and  to  see  where  Cob- 
den  was  in  error  ;  but  the  fact  is  that 
a  similar  error  is  involved  in  the  idea 
of  preferential  trade.  It  means  that 
we  are  to  purchase  the  manufactures 
ot  England  and  Scotland  with  our  sur- 
plus food.  Is  it  not  a  fact,  however, 
that  we  have,  like  the  United  States, 
industrial  ambition  and  resources  of 
our  own,  and  that  as  the  country 
g'rows  it  will  become  more  and  more 
a  manufacturing  community  ?  We  all 
know  how  popular  is  the  argument 
that  our  people  ought  not  to  be  mere 
hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water 
for  the  United  States,  which  means 
that  they  ought  not  to  export  logs  and 
ore  and  import  furniture  and  ploughs, 
but  ought  to  carry  their  own  products 
to  the  highest  point  of  manufacture  in 
their  own  country.  In  regard  to  Great 
Britain  the  argument  would  not  be  put 
so  bluntly ;  Protectionists  would  not 
say,  perhaps,  "  We  do  not  want  to  be 
hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water 
for  England  ; "  but  the  feeling  would 
exist,  and  would  probably  be  expressed 
in  somewhat  more  courtly  language 
and  in  action.  The  Australian  federa- 
tion delegates  were  interviewed  in 
London  recently,  and  with  every  one 
of  them  the  leading  idea  was  that 
federation  would  result  in  the  develop- 
ment of  Australian  industries.  Prefer- 
ential trade  will  probably  be  favoured 
just  so  far  as  it  does  not  interfere 
with  that  industrial  ambition  and  no 

If  we  wish  to  enter  the  zoUverein 
outlined  by  Mr.  Chamberlain  we  must 
make  up  our  minds  whether  we  intend 
to  admit  British  goods  into  our  market 
on  equal  terms  with  the  product  of  our 
own  factories.  For  the  present  it  is  very 
doubtful  whether  the  people  of  Canada 
are  ready  for  that  measure ;  but  the 
future  development  of  the  country 
might  change  the  point  of  view.  The 
population  of  the  western  wheat 
country  is  likely  to  increase  very  much 
faster  than  that  of  old  Canada,  and  its 
political  power  will  grow  in  proportion. 
A  community  almost  purely  agricul- 
tural  would    be   likely   to   look   with 


favour  on  a  proposal  for  free  trade  prices 
for  cottons,  woollens  and  iron  goods, 
coupled  with  some  preferential  treat- 
ment for  its  wheat  in  the  British 
market,  if  that  could  be  obtained. 
But  this  is  looking  pretty  far  ahead  ; 
and  it  does  not  seem  pessimistic  to  say 
that  the  day  when  Great  Britain  shall 
be  willing  to  adopt  a  measure  of  pro- 
tection, and  when  Canada  shall  be  will- 
ing to  adopt  free  trade  as  to  British 
goods,  is  at  least  remote,  and  the  pros- 
pect somewhat  doubtful.  In  the 
meantime  the  indications  are  that  the 
preference  on  British  imparts  will  be 
retained  but  not  increased.  It  will 
have  a  very  considerable  influence  on 
British  imports  ;  but  we  need  not  ex- 
pect that  under  any  conditions  our 
imports  from  Great  Britain  will  ever 
equal,  or  nearly  equal  our  exports  to 
that  country.  The  reason  is  very 
simple  ;  that  Britain  is  in  absolute 
need  of  food  from  abroad,  while  our 
purchases  from  Great  Britain  are  pur- 
chasesaf  choice  rather  thanof  necessity. 
Our  sales  of  food  to  Great  Britain,  es- 
pecially  of  wheat,  will  increase  with  our 
powers  of  production,  and  every  year 
will  bring  the  Empire  nearer  to  the 
point  of  containing  its  own  food  supply. 
Unless  or  until  some  form  of 
Imperial  Federation,  or  of  mutual 
preferential  trade  is  devised,  our  rela- 
tions with  Great  Britain  will  be  based 
upon  friendship,  and  on  the  desire  for 
concerted  action  in  time  of  war.  As 
Canada  and  Australia  grow  in  popula- 
tion, the  union  will  come  more  and 
more  to  assume  the  form  of  an  al- 
liance, differing  from  the  old  shifting 
alliances,  arising  out  of  the  exigencies 
of  European  politics,  in  the  fact  that 
it  will  be  natural  and  enduring 
The  most  solid  benefit  which  will 
result  from  this  arrangement  will 
be  the  opportunity  for  free  and  peace- 
ful development  for  each  of  the  com- 
munities composing  the  Empire,  It 
will  give  us  the  nearest  approach  to 
universal  peace  that  we  are  likely  to 
obtain  in  the  present  condition  of  the 
world.  But  this  assumes  that  it  is  to 
be  used  for  purposes  of  defence  only, 
and   that   we  are  not  to   become,  as 

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Kiplinf^  says,  "  Drunk  with  sight 
of  power."  We  need  not  cherish  the 
illusion  that  we  are  free  from  those 
faults  which  we  condemn  so  freely  in 
Frenchmen  or  in  Americans.  Man  is 
a  fig^hting^  animal,  and  no  one  more  so 
than  the  Ang;lo-Saxon  and  the  Celt. 
We  must  give  up  another  illusion  : 
that  the  masses  of  the  people  do  not 
want  wars,  and  are  dragged  unwil- 
lingly by  the  ambition  of  princes  into 
4]uarrels  in  which  they  have  no  interest. 
Princes  and  politicians  may  still  have 
their  war- 1  ike  ambitions,  but  they 
have  more  difficulty  in  restraining  the 
people  than  in  egging  them  on. 
The  disastrous  war  with  Germany 
was  rapturously  applauded  by  the 
democracy  of  France.  We  all  saw 
with  what  wild  delight  the  American 
people  plunged  into  the  war  with 
Spain.  The  human  heart  is  much  the 
same  organ  everywhere.  We  enjoy 
no  immunity  from  the  excesses  of 
martial  spirit.  The  new  cheap  press, 
with  its  enormous  circulation  and 
power,  is  not  a  restraining  influence 
in  England  any  more  than  in  the 
United  States,  although  it  does  not  go 
so  far  in  violence  or  sensationalism. 
There  is  a  tradition  that  when  once  the 
country  is  at  war,  criticism  as  to  its 
causes  should  come  to  an  end,  and 
public  men  of  both  parties  should  act 
in  harmony.  To  suspend  criticism  in 
this  way,  is  termed  patriotic  ;  to  do 
otherwise  is  condemned  as  factious. 
But  suppose  that  a  Ministry  in  a  doubt- 
ful case  decides  upon  a  compromise 
vrhich  means  peace,  it  enjoys  no  such 
protection,  though  the  peaceful  settle- 
ment may  be  eminently  wise  and 
statesmanlike.  There  is  no  tradition 
that  discussion  and  criticism  should  be 
suspended  ;  the  Opposition  may  make 
the  most  furious  attacks  on  the  peace 
Ministry,  and  may  by  so  doing  increase 
instead  of  injuring  their  reputation  for 
patriotism.  They  are  in  no  danger  of 
being  mobbed,  they  may  find  them- 
selves popular  heroes.  There  is  thus 
the  minimum  of  free  speech  for  the  ad- 
vocates of  peace,  and  the  maximum  of 
free  speech,  amounting  to  unbounded 
license,  for  the  advocates  of  war.     1 

refer  to  these  matters  in  order  to 
emphasize  the  point  that  we  as  Can- 
adians cannot  shift  these  responsi- 
bilities either  to  British  ministers  or 
the  British  people,  but  must  form  our 
own  independent  judgments  upon 

The  real  benefits  of  the  union  of 
British  communities  will  be  enjoyed  id 
time  of  peace ;  but  the  union  will  natur- 
ally seem  to  be  stronger  in  time  of  war. 
In  war  the  nation  lives  under  high 
pressure,  and  its  virtues  as  well  as  its 
faults  are  displayed  in  all  their  strength. 
Comfort,  wealth,  human  life  itself  are 
freely  sacrificed,  and  many  of  the  self- 
ish and  ignoble  qualities  of  the  heart 
seem  for  the  time  to  be  obliterated. 
When  peace  returns  these  feelings  will 
subside,  and  the  Imperial  sentiment 
will  appear  to  have  grown  weaker, 
though  it  will  be  really  only  latent. 
Thence  may  arise  a  temptation  to  court 
conflict  as  a  means  of  reviving  the  sen- 
timent. A  man  who  would  propose  to 
introduce  cholera  in  order  to  evoke  the 
heroism  of  nurses,  or  to  burn  down  a 
city  in  order  to  evoke  the  heroism  of 
firemen,  would  be  justly  regarded  as  a 
dangerous  lunatic ;  but  there  is  a  glam- 
our about  war  which  dazzles  the  eyes 
of  emotional  people  and  prevents  their 
seeing  quite  clearly.  Ruskin,  while  he 
was  an  admirer  of  soldierly  virtue,  was 
no  admirer  of  war,  and  his  idea  was  to 
turn  the  soldierly  spirit  into  the  pur- 
suits of  peace.  As  one  reads  of  the  ease 
with  which  enormous  sums  of  money 
are  raised  for  war ;  the  skill  and  energy 
shown  in  organizing,  feeding  and  cloth- 
ing vast  bodies  of  men ;  the  courage, 
cheerfulness  and  patience  displayed  by 
soldiers  suffering  from  thirst,  exposure, 
fatigue  and  wounds,  he  feels  that 
there  are  great  reserves  of  human 
power  which  some  moral  Tesla  may 
be  turn  to  other  purposes  than 
those  of  destruction.  Canadians  can 
do  a  great  service  to  the  Empire  and 
to  humanity  by  throwing  all  their  in- 
fluence on  the  side  of  restraint ;  hold- 
ing themselves  ready  to  take  their  fair 
share  in  the  defence  of  the  Empire, 
but  doing  all  that  they  honourably  can 
to  preserve  peace  ;  allying  themselves 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



with  the  sober  patriotism  of  the  United 
Kingdom,  not  suffering  themselves  to 
dance  to  any  tune  that  the  London 
music  halls  may  play,  and  being 
exceedingly  careful  that  the  growth 
of  power  is  not  accompanied  by  the 
growth  of  a  domineering  spirit. 
Great  are  the  sacrifices  that  have 
been  made  on  the  battlefields  of  South 
Africa  ;  yet  there  is  probably  no  more 
valuable  service  that  has  been  rend- 
ered to  the  Empire  than  the  main- 
tenance of  good  relations  with  the 
United  States,  without  loss  of  national 
self-respeet,  and  the  maintenance  of 
good  relations  between  French  Ca- 
nadians and  people  of  British  descent 
in  Canada.  If  we  were  continually 
quarrelling  with  our  neighbours  we 
should  be  a  burden  and  a  source  of 
anxiety  instead  of  a  source  of  comfort 
to  the  Empire.  So  it  would  be  if  we 
were  continually  quarrelling  with  our 

French -Canadian  fellow-citizens,  and 
continually  appealing  to  England  to 
settle  our  disputes.  On  the  whole, 
and  making  allowance  for  some  little 
outbreaks  of  irritation,  we  have  avoid- 
ed these  mistakes.  We  have  achieved 
such  a  settlement  of  the  race  question 
that  it  is  looked  upon  as  the  ideal  ol 
all  who  are  working  for  the  recon- 
ciliation of  Dutch  and  English  in 
South  Africa.  When  once  that  re- 
conciliation is  accomplished  it  will 
be  regarded  as  a  triumph  of  states- 
manship, and  any  man  who  would 
wantonly  imperil  it  would  be  branded 
not  only  as  a  reckless  demagogue, 
but  as  a  traitor  to  his  country.  In' 
the  desire  for  new  achievements  in 
Imperialism,  it  will  be  wise  not  to  lose 
sight  of  what  has  already  been  done 
in  the  building  up  of  a  free  and  united 


By    W.  A.  R.  Kerr. 

IT  was  an  evening  late  in  August,  and 
Pire  Louis  and  1  were  sitting  on 
the  edge  of  a  towering  cliff  that  looked 
northward  over  the  St.  Lawrence. 
Our  little  Indian  mission  station  lay 
close  at  hand  down  on  the  beach,  but 
we  often  came  at  nightfall  to  watch 
the  sun  set  beyond  the  hills  across  the 

I  turned  to  look  at  Louis,  for  1 
thought  I  heard  him  move.  I  was 
going  to  make  some  remark,  but  stop- 
ped as  I  saw  the  expression  on  his 
pale  face.  A  tear  stood  in  his  eye, 
and  the  corners  of  his  mouth  twitched 
as  he  lay  staring  blankly  at  the  west. 
He  seemed  to  be  looking  through  and 
beyond  the  glowing  background  of 
cloud  and  mountain  into  some  more 
distant  landscape. 

A  chill  air  suddenly  blew  in  from  the 
water.  My  companion  shivered  and 

"  Shall  we  go  down  ?"  he  said,  ris- 
ing abruptly. 

1  got  up,  and  we  walked  silently 
down  the  side  of  the  precipice  where 
on  the  right  it  fell  away  to  the  rock- 
strewn  shore.  I  eotered  our  little 
cabin  and  lighted  a  candle.  Louis  fol- 
lowed me  in,  shut  the  door,  and  threw 
himself  on  a  low  seat  covered  with  a 
bearskin.  1  stepped  over  to  a  tiny 
shelf  and  was  laying  my  hand  on  a 
volume  with  "Thomas  Aquinas"  on 
the  back,  when  Louis  spoke  : 

"Come  and  sit  down,  Jean.  You 
can  read  again.  Do  you  mind  listen- 
ing to  me  for  awhile  ?  You  must  have 
wondered  " — here  such  a  coughing 
spell  seized  him  that  I  was  alarmed — 
"wondered  at  the  way  1  acted  on  the 
cliff  yonder  half  an  hour  ago." 

1  said  nothing,  for  1  did  not  know 
what  to  say. 

"Well,  this  is  my  birthday,"  went 

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OD  Louis,  "and  that  sunset  reminded 
me  of  one  I  saw  teo  years  ago  to-night 
in  Venice," 

He  stopped  again,  and  putting  his 
hand  on  his  chest  drew  several  long 

"  How  old  do  you  think  I  am  ?"  he 
asked  suddenly. 

I  looked  curiously  at  the  man  to 
whose  aid  I  had  been  sent  by  the  Bish- 
op of  Quebec.  His  hair  was  thick, 
but  gray  ;  his  face  did  not  seem  old, 
yet  it  was  drawn  and  worn-looking ; 
his  frame  was  spare  and  his  shoulders 

"  Really,  1  don't  think  I  could 
g'uess,"  I  replied  ;  "  perhaps  forty- 
five  ?  " 

He  laughed  slightly  but  bitterly. 

"  I  am  thirty-three  to-day." 

P^re  Louis  stretched  out  his  left 
hand,  palm  upwards. 

"Do  you  notice  anything  strange 
about  my  hand  F  "  be  asked. 

"  I  see  a  small,  dark-coloured  blotch 
on  it,"  I  replied. 

"Yes,  well,  that's  about  enough," 
and  again  I  heard  the  bitter  laugh. 

"It  began  eleven  years  ago  to- 
night," commenced  Louis,  "when  I 
attended  a  great  masque  given  by 
Count  Adriano,  the  head  ot  the  high- 
est family  in  Venice.  I  was  myself 
the  heir  of  a  large  fortune  and  the  son 
of  a  long  line  of  noble  ancestors. 
What  drew  me  to  the  Count's  palace 
was  the  report  that  his  niece,  the  Don- 
na Lucia,  was  to  be  present.  1  had 
seen  many  celebrated  beauties,  but 
none  of  them  had  ever  attracted  me 
particularly.  I  used  with  amusement 
to  watch  my  friends  lose  their  heads  at 
the  sight  of  a  pretty  face,  and  spend  a 
week  of  misery  because  a  girl  refused 
to  look  at  them.  I  had  never  experi- 
enced this  myself,  and  at  last  began  to 
think  that  there  must  be  lacking  in  my 
make-up  the  iron  which  feels  the  in- 
fluence of  the  magnet.  Not  that  1 
shunned  the  company  of  ladies,  or  1 
should  not  have  been  at  the  masque. 

"1  remember  Lucia  as  I  first  saw 
her  that  night.  She  was  dressed  in 
some  black  stuff,  and  wore  no  jewelry. 

She  was  tall — very  tall — and  slim, 
she  carried  herself  splendidly  ;  her 
was  almost  black  ;  her  face  ova), 
skin  clear,  and  her  eyes  an  uncom 
gray-brown,  with  a  strange  ligh 

"  From  that  evening  I  was  abl< 
understand  how  a  man  might  be  m 
able  for,  not  a  week,  nor  a  mo 
but  a  lifetime,  if  a  woman  frov 
on  him.  But  that  was  not  my 
tune.  Lucia  returned  my  affecl 
and  we  were  betrothed.  During 
months  that  followed  Venice  hel 
least  one  being  who  was  as  happ; 
the  day  was  long. 

"  Our  wedding  was  fixed  for  a 
from  the  day  of  the  masque  at  w 
we  had  first  met.  I  forgot  to  .<!ay 
that  also  happened  to  be  my  birthd 

At  this  point  P^re  Louis  rose,  w 
ed  over  to  a  small  pantry,  poured 
a  glass  of  wine  and  sat  down  agaii 

"At  last,"  he  resumed,  "came 
day  preceding  our  marriage.  I 
occupied  the  whole  morning  and  a 
noon  with  personal  business.  Jus 
I  was  about  to  leave  my  resldenc 
order  to  pass  my  last  bachelor  evei 
with  my  tianc6e,  an  old  family  ser 
plucked  me  by  the  sleeve  and  mutt< 
stammeringly  that  he  would  lik< 
speak  to  me. 

"  'All  right,  Francesco,'  1  repl 
then  thinking  of  Lucia's  welcon 
kiss,  1  added,  'but  don't  be  long.' 

"He  drew  me  into  a  ropm  off 
hal)  and  stood  before  nie,  shif 
uneasily  on  his  feet,  his  head  ban} 

"'There  is  something  you  shi 
know,  signor,'  Francesco  began,  ' 
— but  I  can't  bear  to  tell  you.' 

"  I  was  becoming  impatient,  am 
plainly  saw  it,  for  evidently  fearir 
was  about  to  leave  him,  he  went 
speaking  thickly  and  unsteadily :  '( 
your  mother  and  I  knew  it,  sig. 
and — and  I  thought  something  m 
happen  to  hinder  your  marriage.  \ 
mother  would  have  told  you,  sig; 
but  she  died,  you  remember,  very  ! 
denly  in  the  end.' 

"Francesco  paused  out  of  bri 
and  looked  up  at  me.     Seeing  I 

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him,  he  said  :  '  It  is — that 
,  si^or,  it   is  about  your 

id  involuntarily.  My  mother 
.  on  me  —who  had  died  sev- 
lefore  after  a  protracted  111- 
ne  morning  summoned  me 
side.  She  said  she  feared 
:  long  to  live  and  wished  to 
ething  very  important.  Just 
i  about  to  speak,  her  face 
ler  head  fell  back,  and  she 

I  saw  it  all  again  vividly, 
my  heart  misgiving  me,  I 
Francesco  and  said  roughly 
Vhat  do  you  mean?  Quickl 
ime  to  lose.'" 

fit  of  coughing  attacked 
,  and  it  was  some  minutes 
ould  proceed. 

ory  old  Francesco  told  me 
:oo  much  for  me  to  repeat 
id  1  will  just  give  you  the 

her,  it  appeared,  had  been 
lusually  lawless  and  reckless 
scorning  involved  in  some 
as  forced  to  flee.  He  em- 
L  Portuguese  ship  for  India, 
rival  there  he  entered  the 
the  Maharajah  of  Rajpore. 
soon  discovered  my  father's 
11,  and  with  him  at  the  head 
the  Maharajah's  invincible 
ime  a  terror  to  his  weaker 
On  one  occasion,  how- 
ther's  plans  for  a  raid  were 
nd  he  fell  into  the  hands  of 
1  victim.  This  man — I  have 
lis  name — threw  him  into  a 
d  with  lepers.  My  father 
month  among  these  loath- 
ures  before  a  rescue-  party 
ifaharajah  freed  him.  But 
1  enough  of  India.  Never 
the  object  of  his  imprison* 
the  lepers,  he  returned  to 
LJah's  court,  and  laden  with 
[h  with  the  horror  of  his  in- 
still in  his  mind,  set  sail  for 
le  feud  which  had  driven  him 
in  the  lapse  of  years,  died 
pT  father  settled  down  quietly 
He  soon  married,  and  I  was 
ild.     But  within  a  twelve- 

month after  my  birth,  leprosy,  con- 
tracted during  the  imprisonment  he  re- 
membered so  well,  declared  itself,  and 
in  another  year  he  was  dead.  This 
was  the  secret,  said  Francesco,  which 
my  mother  had  always  meant  to  tell  me, 
but  had  put  off  the  evil  day  till  I  should 
be  old  enough  to  understand.  And 
then,  doubtless,  in  her  enfeebled  con- 
dition her  attempt  to  tell  me  had  killed 

"  When  Francesco  finished  speak- 
ing, I  began  slowly  to  grasp  what  the 
real  result  of  the  story  must  be,  I 
commenced  pacing  the  room,  shiver- 
ing to  think  of  the  horrible  outlook 
before  me.  1  knew  enough  about 
medical  science  to  recognize  that  there 
would  be  no  escape  for  me.  Already  I 
saw  the  red  patches  on  my  hands,  the 
loathsome  decay  of  foot  and  face  ;  al- 
ready I  noticed  how  my  servants  de- 
serted me  ;  how  my  former  compani- 
ons avoided  me — the  plague  spot. 
And  the  unfairness  of  it  all  !  What 
had  I  done,  or  my  father  either,  that  I 
shQuld  suffer  unknown  tortures?  I 
cannot  say  how  long  I  kept  rushing  up 
and  down  the  room,  curses  and  pray- 
ers alternately  crossing  my  lips.  At 
last  I  tlung  myself  into  a  chair  and  tried 
to  be  calm.  I  painfully  endeavoured  to 
think  over  what  I  must  do.  Lucia  was 
still  waiting  for  me  !  I  wrote  her  a 
note  in  an  unsteady  hand,  saying  I 
was  unavoidably  detained,  and  would 
be  with  her  shortly. 

"When  I  had  sent  off  this  letter, 
and  was  once  more  alone,  thoughts 
came  thick  and  fast.  Suddenly — I  do 
not  know  why  it  was  it  had  not  oc- 
curred to  me  till  then — there  flashed 
through  my  mind  with  stunning  force 
the  thought  that  I  must  give  up  Lucia. 
How  I  spent  the  next  hour  I  cannot 
describe.  I  sometimes  wonder  that  I 
did  not  go  out  of  my  mind.  At  last  I 
settled  down  into  a  state  of  lifeless 
apathy,  and  scarcely  knowing  what  I 
.was  doing,  I  got  up  and  went  out  into 
darkness  which  was  falling  on  the  city." 

Suddenly  Pire  Louis  coughed  wear- 
ily and  put  his  handkerchief  to  his 
mouth.  When  he  took  it  away  I  no- 
ticed blood  on  it. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


"Are  you  not  over-exerting^  yourself  ?  and  forever.      1 

I  asked.  and  to  him  I  de 

"  No,  I  would    rather  finish,  if  you  counsel.      He  lisi 

don't  mind  hearing  me  out,"  he  replied,  tically  to  my  stoi 

After  another  glass  of  wine  he  began  to  enter  a  mona: 

again.  thought  of  doin 

"  The  last   dark    red   glow   of  the  would  have  too 

sunset  was  just  dying  out,  and  a  far-  but  to  join  the  I 

away   mu^ic  lingered   on   the  listless  then,  having  cor 

breeze.      It  was  soothing  to  watch  the  to  go  as  a  missic 

stars   gradually    appear,    and    after  a  .  field,  where  the  \ 

while  the  great  yellow  moon  came  up  for  instance,  Nei 

over  the  horizon,  looming  big  through  his  advice  to  the 

the  earth-mists.    I  was  lifted  out  of  my-  later  sailed  for  Q 

self  and  my  sense  of  self-importance  "You    know 

diminished.      My    annihilation    meant  years  I  have  stoi 

nothing  to  sky,  stars,  or  men  ;  my  bur-  endless  journeys, 

den  must  be  borne  alone  and  silently,  spair  which  has  1 

"  1  had  wandered  unconsciously  on  ing  out  my  heart 

towards  Count  Adriano's  palace.     On  you  were  sent  do 

seeing  it    before    me,    I    clenched  my  Bishop    heard    i 

teeth,  and  resolved  to  go  in  and  say  my  hemorrhage   1   h; 

last  farewell  to  Lucia,  for  1   could  not  nothing  could  pe 

bear  to  live  longer  in  Venice,  and  our  little  village  now 

parting  would  be  easier  now  than  later.  I  have  been  of  so 

As  I  entered,  the  servants,  1  remember  don't  know,  Jean 

still,  looked  curiously  at  me;  my  at-  your  company foi 

tire,  1  suppose,  was  in  some  disorder.  Ten  weeks  ago  tl 

As  soon    as   she    heard  my    footsteps  es  appeared   on 

Lucia  came  tripping  towards  me  with  have  since  been  | 

such    a  welcome    in    those    wonderful  to    fall    a  victim 

eyes.      1  caught  her  to  my  breast,  kiss-  know  1    shall  no 

iog  her  madly.     She  looked  startled  at  gone    in    decline 

my    vehemence.      I    drew    her    into  a  through  the  cutti 

small  reception  room,  sat  down  beside  autumn." 

her,  on  a  divan,  and  after  a  moment's  P^re  Louis  pau; 

silence  began  to  speak.  his  hand  to  his  bi 
"Just  one  thin 

"  It  was  breaking  day.       Lucia  and  LuciaF  " 

I  had  said  good-bye.      We  had  kissed  "  Lucia  ?    Onl 

our  last  kiss  and  looked  our  last  look,  her  in  a  dream. 

She  made  me  promise  to  live  my  life  '  more  beautiful, 

out ;  for   her  sake  I  swore  never  to  eyes   was  that  o 

think  of  suicide.      She  said  she  would  was  beckoning  m 

take  the  veil  ;  and  then,  just  as  the  P6re  Louis  sud 

damp  haze  to  the   east  commenced  to  kerchief  to  his  mt 

glow,  we  parted.*  blood  swept  roun 

"  As  I  turned  away  from  the  Count's  and  he  fell  heavil; 

palace,  it  was  with  the  settled  convic-  P^re    Louis,    a 

tlon  that  1  must  quit  Venice  at  once  Jesuit  order  in  N( 

Digitized  by  Google 


By  H.  Max  Bonier. 


[AM  an  old  man  now,  my  boys,  and 
it  will  not  be  long;  before  !  am  laid 
n  the  cold  earth,  under  the  free  soil 
if  the  Canada  I  love  so  well.  My  hair 
s  white  as  the  driven  snow  and  my 
tody  is  bent  and  feeble  with  age,  but 
he  mind  that  rules  this  old  and  bat- 
ered  frame  is  as  vigorous  as  when,  on 
hat  lovely  day  in  October,  thirty  years 
kgfo,  we  fought  for  our  hearths  and  our 
lomes  and  for  the  glory  and  honour  of 
Danada  ;  and  when,  with  the  thunder 
if  Niagara  booming  dully  in  our  ears 
rom  the  distance,  we  drove  the  in- 
vader headlong  over  the  pine-clad  cliffs 
)f  Queenston,  and  gained  a  victory  that 
vill  live  long  in  the  minds  of  men. 

Ah  !  well  do  1  remember  that  autumn 
tvening  when  we  lay  round  our  biv- 
ouac fires,  and  watched  the  moonlight 
glinting  through  the  pine-trees  and 
Parting  queerty  over  the  bosom  of  the 
jarrow  river,  that  alone  separated  us 
from  three  thousand  of  the  enemy's 
riflemen.  Two  score  York  volunteers 
reclined  in  the  ruddy  light  of  the  blazing 
[ires,  eating,  drinking,  laughing,  sing- 
ing, swearing,  carcusingas  only  soldiers 
;an.  Bearded  and  battle-scarred  vet- 
erans mingled  with  youths  with  the 
down  still  on  their  faces  and  the  inno- 
cence of  boyhood  in  their  eyes.  Farm- 
ers' sons  and  plowmen  from  the  north, 
bearing  on  their  stalwart  frames  the 
stamp  of  honest  toil,  laughed  and 
joked  with  professional  men  from  the 
city,  and  drank  from  the  same  canteen 
with  the  refined,  the  educated  and  the 
cultured.  All  were  supremely,  uproar- 
iously, profanely  happy. 

For  some  weeks,  we — Captain  Chis- 
holm's  Company  of  the  York  Militia — 
together  with  Captain  Denis'  Company 
of  the  49th  Grenadiers,  had  been  quar- 

tered in  the  quaint  little  village  of 
Queenston,  snugly  ensconsced  in  a 
vineyard  in  the  rear,  and  well  shel- 
tered from  the  uncertain  and  harass- 
ing fire  of  the  enemy.  Provision  was 
fairly  plentiful  and  of  good  quality, 
but  our  clothing  and  shoes  were 
in  tatters  ;  and  for  want  of  tents 
and  camp  utensils  we  slept  on  the 
ground  under  October  skies,  and 
broiled  our  daily  ration  of  beef  on  the 
points  of  our  bayonets  before  a  log  fire. 
We  had  received  no  pay  for  months, 
and  small  prospect  was  there  for  get- 
ting any  ;  but  the  courage  and  spirit 
we  had  displayed  withal,  had  won  from 
General  Brock  the  highest  praise  and 
commendation.  Added  to  this  we 
were  hourly  subjected  to  a  desultory 
fire  from  sharpshooters,  secreted  on 
points  of  vantage  on  the  opposite 
height ;  and  having  been  forbidden  by 
our  general  to  reply,  loud  and  long 
were  the  curses  hurled  at  the  Ameri- 
cans, and  dire  threats  of  vengeance 
and  retaliation  were  made  by  the  en- 
raged volunteers. 

On  that  evening  before  a  memorable 
day,  Pierre  Lascelles  and  1  strode 
away  from  the  hilarious  throng  around 
the  fires  and  sought  repose  in  a  lone- 
some  pine  grove  near  the  village. 
Pierre  was  aFrench  Canadian  by  birth, 
(although  he  spoke  English  fluenltyand 
well)  handsome,  dashing  and  brave 
as  he  was  generous.  He  was  my 
friend  and  comrade-in-arms,  and  I  was 
greatly  attached  to  him.  Yes,  if  ne- 
cessity arose  I  would  have  died  to 
save  Pierre,  for  what  was  life  to  such  a 
grizzled  old  veteran  as  I  ?  Pierre  was 
young  and  innocent  and  just  begin- 
ning to  taste  the  cup  of  life's  happiness; 
whilst  1— but  it  mattered  not — the 
world  would  revolve  as   before,  and  a 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


lone  grave  in  the  wilderness,  with 
mayhap  some  simple  inscription,  would 
remain  as  silent  chronicles  of  the  life  of 
Lambeth  Keene,  soldier,  who  lived  a 
loyal  citizen  and  died  in  the  defence  of 
his  country. 

Reaching  the  grove,  we  threw  our- 
selves an  the  ground  and  smoked  in 
silence.  The  panorama  that  stretch- 
ed out  beneath  us  was  so  beautiful 
that  it  will  never  fade  from  my 
memory,  and  I  can  see  it  now,  even 
as  I  saw  it  then,  complete  in  every 

Directly  in  the  foreground  were  our 
own  campfires,  with  those  of  the  Gren- 
adiers slightly  to  the  left ;  and  in  the 
luminous  circles  cast  by  the  blazing 
logs  lounged  picturesque  groups  of 
soldiers,  whose  shouts  and  laughter 
were  borne  to  us  strongly  on  the  breeze. 
Farther  still,  with  glimmering  candles 
showing  fitfully  through  the  starlight, 
reposed  the  village  of  Queenston,  so 
so  silent  and  still  that  it  seemed  as  if 
the  inhabitants  were  fully  conscious  of 
the  great  storm  that  was  brewing 
around  them.  Half-way  up  the  moun- 
tain-side thebanked  firesof  aneighteen- 
pounder  redan  battery  blinked  queerly, 
and  the  dark  shadows  of  the  men  of 
Williams' Compaay  of  the  49th  Light 
Infantry  could  be  seen,  flitting  spectre- 
like among  the  fires.  Away  down  the 
river  a  red  glow  in  the  haze  of  the 
evening  showed  the  position  of  the  24- 
pounder  battery  at  Vrooman's  Point, 
held  by  Hatt's  gatlaat  Lincoln  Volun- 
teers. On  the  opposite  height  of  the 
gorge,  and  close  by  the  American  village 
of  Lewtston.the  watchful  campfires  of 
the  enemy  gleamed  red  through  the 
gathering  darkness  ;  and  at  intervals 
sudden  splashes  of  sparks  and  flame 
leapt  luridly  towards  the  heavens  as  the 
soldiers  fed  them  with  dry  brushwood, 
resinous  and  highly  inflammable  ;  and 
the  fierce  crackling  that  en.sued  could 
be  heard  dimly  above  the  swirl  of  the 
water  and  the  answering  roar  of  our 
own  watch  fires. 

As  we  lay  and  smoked  the  sky  be- 
came overcast  with  clouds,  and  drops 
of  warm  rain  fell  gently. 

' ' Come, "said Pierresuddenly,  "Let's 


go  down  to  the  village ;  Marie  will  be 
waiting  for  me." 

Rising,  he  stretched  himself,  and  1 
knocked  the  ashes  from  my  pipe  and 
followed  him.  Leaving  the  whisper- 
ing pines,  down  into  the  valley  we 
walked  sharply,  and  stopped  at  a  gar- 
den in  the  centre  of  the  village,  in  the 
midst  of  which  nestled  a  small  cottage, 
surrounded  by  trellised  grape-vines  and 
fruitful  orchards,  with  their  luscious 
products  hanging  temptingly  within 
reach.  In  response  to  Pierre's  knock 
a  beautiful  apparition  appeared  lin  the 
doorway — a  girl,  just  budding  into 
womanhood — with  dark  brown  eyes 
full  of  eagerness,  and  a  wealth  of  au- 
burn hair  that  fell  in  sweet  confusion 
over  her  shoulders.  She  held  a  candle 
above  her  head  and  looked  question- 
inglyinto  the  darkness.  Pierre's  voice, 
however,  reassured  her,  and  with  an 
exclamation  of  delight  she  hastened  to 
open  the  gate.  I  refused  her  kind  in- 
vitation to  enter — God  knows  how 
hard  it  was  ! — and  strode  quickly  back 
up  the  portage  road  to  the  camp  in  the 

Mary  Clinton  was  a  noble  woman — 
Pierre  worshipped  her — I  loved  her — 
she  loved  Pierre — that  was  our  story. 

It  would  have  broken  Pierre's  heart 
if  he  had  known  I  loved  Mary  Clinton, 
and  I  thanked  God  he  did  not  know, 
and  determined  he  should  never  know 
if  it  were  within  my  power  to  prevent  it. 
Ah  !  if  he  could  have  read  my  thoughts 
through  the  longs  nights  of  autumn, 
lying  close  by  his  side  and  listening  to 
his  youthful  sleep  ;  if  he  could  have 
known  of  the  anguish  that  tore  my 
breast  day  after  day  through  the  long 
and  weary  marches  ;  if  he  could  have 
but  realized  the  great  and  hopeless  love 
I  bore  her,  torturing  my  frame  and 
wringing  silent  groans  from  a  hard- 
ened soldier — if  he  could  have  known 
all  this,  and  known  it  as  I  knew  it, 
Pierre  Lascelles  would  have  become  a 
changed  man  ;  the  sunshine  would 
have  died  out  of  his  face  ;  the  laughter 
from  his  eyes;  the  great  burden  of  life 
would  have  fallen  upon  him,  and  joy 
in  his  soul  would  have  been  crushed 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 




Pierre  and  I  had  become  acquainted 
with  Mary  Clinton  ia  a  somewhat  ro- 
mantic  manner  on  the  afternoon  of  our 
arrival  in  her  native  village.  Return- 
ing from  a  stroll  in  the  woods,  we  had 
chanced  upon  a  beautiful  girl  in  dis- 
tress. A  drunken  soldier  of  the  49th 
was  barring  her  progress,  muttering 
lewd  expressions  of  endearment  the 
while,  and  endeavouring  to  clasp  her 
in  his  arms.  In  response  to  her  ap- 
peal for  help  Pierre  promptly  knocked 
the  man  down  and  escorted  the  tremb- 
lin|^  girl  home,  which  act  gained  her 
entire  'confidence  and  heartfelt  grati- 
tude. As  for  the  fallen  and  baffled 
lover,  I  saw  him  safely  lodged  in  the 

Since  that  event  Pierre  had  been  a 
frequent  guest  in  the  Clintons'  cottage, 
and  a  strong  attachment  had  sprung 
up  between  the  young  people.  How- 
ever, Mary's  father  did  not  look  upon 
Pierre  with  favor  in  the  light  of  a  son- 
in-law,  although  he  was  well  educated 
and  possessed  considerable  means  ;  so 
they  often  resorted  to  clandestine  meet- 
ings, and  thus  deRed  the  parental  vigi- 
lance that  overshadowed  them  when 
Pierre  chanced  to  visit  the  cottage. 

And  through  it  all  I  loved  her  de- 
votedly, silently,  hopelessly.  Nearly 
all  the  pleasure  of  life  was  gone  from 
my  soul,  and  1  felt  that  nothing  re- 
mained but  to  die  on  the  field  of  honour 
like  a  Briton  and  a  soldier. 

As  1  walked  swiftly  along  the  wagon- 
road  through  the  darkness  my  thoughts 
flew  back  to  a  battle-field  of  long  ago, 
and  once  more  I  could  see  the  flashes 
of  an  enemy's  musketry  through  the 
trees  and  the  rapid  marching  of  men  ; 
I  could  hear  the  sullen  blare  of  the 
bugles  and  the  rolling  beat  of  the 
drum;  the  hoarse  shouts  of  command, 
the  dogged  cheers  of  defiance,  and  the 
answering  roar  of  the  field-guns.  The 
ardour  of  the  fight  was  upon  me,  and 
I  felt  again  the  fierce  pleasures  of  ac- 
tion, whilst  loud  and  chill  the  cheers  of 
victory  rang  in  my  ears,  drowning  the 
throbbingsof  the  great  love  1  strove  to 
conquer.  Ha!  the  blood  coursed 
through  my  veins  as  under  the  influ- 
ence of  old  wine,  for  once  again  I  was 

the  old  campaigner,  grim  and  un- 
daunted and  fearing  not  death. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  emotions 
I  strode  into  the  centre  of  the  circle  of 
fires,  where  the  group  of  carousers  was 
the  largest  and  the  laughter  and 
ribaldry  the  loudest.  Old  soldiers 
marvelled  to  see  gloomy  Lambeth 
Keene  take  part  in  the  jokes  and  jest 
alike  with  recruit  and  veteran. 

"  Come,  Keene,  gi'  us  a  song  o'  th' 
ould  sod,"  stuttered  O'Leary,  who  had 
evidently  been  imbibing  too  generous- 
ly from  the  rum  keg. 

"  An' a  good  ol' campaignin' story  !" 
bawled  another  inebriate  and  the  others 
took  up  the  cry,  and  finally,  sitting 
astride  of  a  barrel — 1  recked  not  of 
their  banter,  for  my  brain  was  awhirl — 
all  through  that  autumn  evening  i 
made  merry  by  the  fires,  swore  louder 
than  any  at  the  enemy  and  told  stories 
and  sang  the  stirring  songs  of  old  Ire- 
land over  and  over  again  to  the  ap- 
plauding volunteers. 

"  1  will  die  in  action,"  1  kept  mutter- 
ing to  myself,  "and  none  shall  ever 
know  of  my  love  for  her,"  and  the 
thought  seemed  to  give  me  a  savage 

As  I  stretched  myself  on  the  cold 
ground  to  sleep  and  heard  the  bugle 
blow  for  "taps,"  and  then  almost  as 
an  echo,  a  faint  reply  from  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  1  dimly  remember  a 
soldier  saying  : 

"  Th'  divil  must  be  in  Keene  t'  night 
— I've  known  'im  for  years,  but  niver 
before  'ave  1  seen  the  bhoy  so  wild  an' 

And  O'Leary  was  right — I  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  devil. 


Long  before  dawn  on  the  eventful 
morning  of  the  13th  October  I  was 
awakened  by  the  startling  blare  of  the 
bugles,  the  fierce  roll  of  alarm  drums 
and  loud  cries  and  shouting  from  the 

"The  enemy  1  they're  coming!" 
was  the  cry. 

Springing  to  my  feet  1  hurriedly 
threw  on  my  accoutrements  and  look- 
ed around  for  Pierre.     He  was  not  to 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



be  seen.  In  reply  to  my  anxious  en- 
quiries I  learned  that  he  had  not  been 
io  camp  since  the  previous  evening', 
and  wondering,  and  vaguely  fearful 
that  something  serious  had  befallen 
him,  I  fell  into  line  with  the  Grenadiers 
and  a  few  of  our  own  men  under  Cap- 
tain Dennis — a  braver  officer  than 
whom  never  led  men  into  action — who 
had  been  detailed  to  intercept  the 
Americans  at  the  landing.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  volunteers  and  a  few  of 
the  49th  were  to  be  left  as  a  guard  to 
the  village.  A  warm  rain  was  falling 
gently  and  save  for  the  flickering  light 
of  the  lanterns  everything  was  in  dark- 
ness. Boom  I  came  the  deep  note 
of  the  gun  in  the  redan,  startling 
the  slumbering  noises  of  the  hills 
and  awakening  thundering  echoes  over 
the  valley.  Officers  were  shouting 
commands  and  the  volunteers  were 
massing  silently  and  quickly.  At  this 
moment  Pierre  himself  hurried  up  and 
took  his  place  on  my  left.  His  man- 
ner betrayed  great  agitation. 

"  Lambeth,  old  friend,"  he  whisper- 
ed, in  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion, 
"  Not  a  word  to  any  one.  Marie  and  1 
were  secretly  married  this  morning. 
Just  as  the  words  were  pronounced 
that  made  us  man  and  wife  the  bugles 
blew  the  assembly  and  I  knew  that  the 
enemy  were  coming.  I  tore  myself 
from  her  arms — moo  Dieu  !  never  will 
I  forget  how  she  clung  to  me  ! " 

"  By  the  right,  quick  march  !  dou- 
ble !  '■ 

I  thanked  our  captain  from  the  bot- 
tom of  my  heart  for  that  command,  for 
Pierre  did  not  see  the  sudden  grief  on 
my  face  nor  the  startled  look  spring 
into  my  eyes  as  he  told  me  the  words 
that  sounded  the  death-knell  of  my 
hopeless  love.  She  was  lost— lost — 
the  world  had  become  suddenly  black 
and  1  staggered  and  almost  fell.  But 
then  a  great  revulsion  of  feeling  came. 
What  mattered  it  ?  I  was  going  to  my 
death  and  little  Pierre  would  be  happy 
in  the  love  of  a  true  wife.  The  thun- 
der of  the  enemy's  batteries  at  Lewis- 
ton  and  our  own  answering  boom  was 
as  sweetest  music  to  my  ear.  Sharply 
through  the  village,  where  the  women 

and  children  had  already  begun  to  lake 
refuge  in  the  cellars,  we  went  at  the 
double,  and  halted  not  until  we  had 
gained  the  ridge  that  overlooks  the 
river,  where,  dimly  outlined  against 
the  frothing  waler,  confused  and  hesi- 
tating in  the  darkness,  were  drawn  up 
on  the  bank  over  three  hundred  of  the 
enemy's  regulars.  They  had  just  land- 
ed and  were  in  great  disorder,  as  was 
evident  from  the  swearing  and  ges- 
ticulating of  the  men  and  the  hurried 
commands  of  the  officers. 

"Fire!"  came  a  sharp  command 
from  our  captain,  and  we  poured  a 
rattling  volley  into  their  yielding  ranks, 
and  then  another,  and  still  another. 
The  suddenneiis  of  the  attack,  the 
rapid  and  effective  way  in  which  we 
loaded  and  fired  and  the  uncertainty  as 
to  what  the  number  of  our  force  might 
be,  completely  disheartened  them  ;  and 
disdaining  alike  the  threats  and  en- 
treaties of  their  officers,  they  scurried 
quickly  back  to  the  river  and  gained 
shelter  under  the  shelving  bank, 
where  the  panic  at  length  having  sub- 
sided, a  heavy  6re  was  soon  opened 
upon  us,  lying  all  unsheltered  in  a 
perilous  position.  Notwithstanding 
that  we  were  outnumbered  six  to  one, 
and  that  our  adversaries  were  well 
protected  by  the  riverbank,  we  were 
manfully  forming  up  for  a  charge 
when  the  batteries  at  Lewiston,  noting 
our  position  from  the  flashes  of  mus- 
ketry, concentrated  their  fire  in  our 
direction  and  began  throwing  grape 
and  round  shot  that  screamed  and 
whistled  warningly  above  our  heads. 
Thus,  the  ridge  having  become  too 
dangerous  to  be  held  with  impunity, 
we  retreated  in  an  orderly  manner  to 
the  shelter  of  the  village,  to  await  day- 
light and  reinforcements. 

For  a  short  while  we  lay  behind 
hedges  and  fences  and  maintained  a 
dropping  fire  on  the  enemy  at  the  river 
bank,  whose  dark  blue  uniforms  ap- 
peared but  half-distinctly  through  the 
uncertain  light  of  the  early  morning. 
Pierre  was  moody  and  depressed  and 
kept  constantly  glancing  toward  the 
home  of  his  new-made  bride  and  mut- 
tering short    prayers    for   her  safety 

Digitized  6yG00glC 



from  the  shells  of  the  Lewiston  batter- 
ies, I  was  cold  and  wet  and  my  teeth 
chattered  as  I  aimed  and  fired  at  the 
phantom  foe.  1  was  tired  of  such  dull 
and  annoying'  warfare  and  chafed  and 
fretted  for  action.  Flasks  of  rum  were 
passed  among  the  men,  and  that  help- 
ed to  revive  the  current  of  life  and  to 
drive  the  cold  and  chills  from  our  stif- 
fened frames.  Thus  the  minutes  pass- 
ed by 

Morning  dawned  grray  and  chill  and 
a  thin  mist  rose  slowly  from  the  bosom 
of  Niagara,  disclosing  four  boats  filled 
with  soldiers  pushing  off  from  the 
Lewiston  landing.  At  this  moment, 
above  the  shelving  bank  of  the  river 
appeared  the  head  of  a  column  of 
troops,  {those  we  had  scattered  in  the 
darkness),  advancing  in  the  direction 
of  the  village,  with  the  intention,  no 
doubt,  of  attacking  our  greatly  inferior 
force.  Captain  Dennis,  apprehensive 
that  we  should  be  overwhelmed  by 
numbers,  hastily  ordered  a  bugler  to 
call  down  to  our  support  the  Company 
of  the  49th  Light  Infantry  stationed  at 
the  redan  battery  on  the  heights.  In 
response  to  our  appeal,  down  they 
came  at  the  double,  and  as  the  enemy 
entered  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  we 
met  them  by  a  sullen  British  cheer  and 
a  rolling  volley  of  musketry, 

"On  men  !  on  for  the  honour  of  Am- 
erica !  "  came  the  cry,  but  our  only 
answer  was  a  hail  of  bullets  that  drove 
them  precipitately  back  to  the  shelter  of 
their  friendly  river  bank,  leaving  sev- 
eral dead  and  wounded  on  the  field. 

Then,  through  the  pungent  smoke  of 
the  battlefield.  General  Brock  came  rid- 
ing up,  his  noble  figure  and  dauntless 
bearing  exciting  the  courage  and  ad- 
miration of  the  men.  He  was  splash- 
ed with  mud  from  head  to  foot,  having 
galloped  all  the  way  from  Fort  George, 
attracted  by  the  booming  of  the  cannon 
and  the  blazing  beacons  on  the  height. 
Reining  for  a  moment  to  acknowledge 
our  salute,  he  galloped  up  the  steep  in- 
cline and  dismounted  at  the  redan. 
Scarcely  had  he  leapt  from  his  horse 
when  a  volley  was  fired  at  the  gunners 
from  above  by  a  large  force  of  the 
enemy  who  had  clambered  up  an  al- 

most inaccessible  fishermen's  path  and 
gained  the  heights  from  the  rear.  No 
time  was  there  for  generalship,  for 
they  followed  the  volley  with  a  rush, 
and  soon  the  Stars  and  Stripes  waved 
over  the  battery.  Fortunately,  the 
gunners  had  had  presence  of  mind  to 
spike  the  piece,  and  it  was  thus  render- 
ed harmless  in  the  enemy's  hands  for 
the  time  being  at  any  rate. 

Meanwhile,  in  spite  of  the  scathing 
fire  from  the  34-pounder  at  Vrooman's 
Point,  which  raked  the  river  and  the 
Lewiston  landing  from  below,  reinforce- 
ments for  the  enemy  had  been  steadily 
arriving,  boat  after  boat  crossing  and 
depositing  its  complement  of  soldiers 
on  the  landing  beneath  the  village  of 
Queenston.  Several  detachments  were 
also  sent  up  to  reinforce  the  Americans 
on  the  height,  and  their  force  at  that 
point  now  amounted  to  over  nine  hun- 
dred men. 

As  we  stood  chafing  and  fuming  for 
the  fray.  General  Brock  rode  up  and 
dismounted,  leaving  his  horse  in  the 
village,  and  led  us  on  foot  to  the  charge 
of  the  heighls.  We  advanced  warily 
and  swiftly  over  the  covered  ground, 
and  broke  into  a  steady  double  when- 
ever we  came  wilhin  view  of  the  sharp- 
shooters on  the  height,  and  at  length, 
having  reached  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tain, we  took  shelter  behind  a  high 
stone  wall  and  waited  for  the  word  of 
command.  Captain  Williams,  who  had 
been  sent  forward  with  a  detachment 
to  turn  the  enemy's  flank,  was  press- 
ing them  hard  in  that  quarter  and  they 
were  giving  way.  Seizing  the  favour- 
able moment,  our  general  sprang  over 
the  wall  and  led  the  way  to  the  charge, 
shouting  words  of  encouragement  and 
waving  his  sword  for  a  general  ad- 

At  this  moment,  two  companies  of 
the  York  Militia  hurried  up,  much  ex- 
hausted, having  run  all  the  way  from 
Brown's  Point,  a  distance  of  over  three 
miles,  to  our  assistance.  Watting  for 
them  to  draw  breath,  our  general 
turned  once  more  toward  the  height 
and  shouted  that  memorable  battle-cry 
that  afterward  inspired  us  on  many  a 
bloody  day ; 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


"  Push  on,  the  brave  York  Volun- 

But  scarcely  were  the  words  fallen 
from  his  lips,  when  a  ball  struck  him 
in  the  breast  and  he  fell  mortally 
wounded  at  our  feet.  Ah  !  then,  my 
boys,  did  we  show  to  the  world  the 
courage  inspired  by  that  gallant  sol- 
dier. With  a  cry  of  vengeance  on 
our  lips,  up,  up  the  bloody  slope  we 
charged,  led  by  lion-hearted  Colonel 
McDonell,  who  also  died  like  a  sol- 
dier and  a  man  at  the  foot  of  that  fatal 
height.  Up,  up  we  swarmed  like 
demons,  with  the  leaden  hail  of  death 
hissing  about  us,  and  comrades  falling 
at  every  step. 

"  Pierre,  my  lad,  for  God's  sake 
keep  behind  me,"  I  cried.  "  I  shall 
die,  but  you  must  live — live  to  make 
Aef  happy," 

But  he  heeded  not,  for  the  fire  of 
youth  and  the  ardour  of  the  fight 
were  upon  him,  and  he  scaled  the 
slope  with  the  wild  gleam  of  action  in 
his  eyes,  I  cried  out  to  him  again,  but 
he  would  not  listen. 

"  Merciful  heaven,"  I  groaned,  "  If 
Pierre  is  killed  it  will  be  worse  than 
death  to  her — if  he  is  brought  back 
to  her  stiff  and  cold,  with  a  bullet  in 
his  heart — O  God,  and  a  bride  but  this 
morning  ! " 

Low  clouds  of  rolling  smoke  hid  the 
top  cf  the  height,  but  through  the  mist 
the  powder- blackened  faces  of  the 
enemy  were  visible,  pouring  a  murder- 
ous fire  into  our  men  at  close  range. 
We  were  almost  upon  them.  Pierre 
had  outstripped  me  and  was  in  the 
front  rank,  pushing  eagerly  forward 
toward  the  summit,  and  offering  a 
splendid  mark  for  the  American  rifle- 
men, A  strange  madness  seized  my 
soul.  I  was  temporarily  insane.  1 
made  strenuous  efforts  to  reach  him, 
and  heard  but  dimly  the  fierce  cries 
and  execrations,  and  the  awful  oaths 
of  action.  Ha,  at  last  1  As  we  gain- 
ed the  crest  and  sprang  forward  with 
a  mighty  cheer  at  the  enemy,  I  grasp- 
ed Pierre's  shoulder,  and  forced  my- 
self in  frontof  him.  He  tried  to  pass 
me,  but  1  dashed  madly  forward  with 
our  battle  cry  : 

"  Push  on,  the  brave  York  Vt 
teecs ! " 

But,  hardly  had  the  echoes 
away,  when  I  stumbled  and  lur 
forward  upon  my  face  among 
rocks.  The  great  clamour  of  the 
melted  away  into  the  distance,  anc 
crackling  of  the  muskets  seeme 
come  from  far,  far  over  a  great 
that  opened  out  beneath  me.  Th 
felt  myself  lifted  in  gentle  arms,  a 
voice,  which  I  recognized  as  O'Lea 
muttered  : 

"  Shot  through  the  lungs — 
Keene,  your  fightin'  days  is  over,' 


How  beautiful  the  river  looked 
the  sun  gilding  the  foaming  wav 
and  baptizing  the  rugged  and  ] 
clad  gorge  ina  flood  of  gold. 

This  was  my  first  thought 
awoke  to  consciousness  in  the  hos 
at  Queenston,  and  looked  out  ovei 
delightful  harmony  of  the  lands 
that  had  so  recently  been  deluged 
the  blood  of  men.  Even  thouj 
had  courted  death,  and  had  com 
very  near  to  obtaining  it,  I  awok 
find  myself  granted  a  new  leas 
life.  The  feeling  that  I  was  stili  a 
and  might  recover,  was  not  unp 
ant.  Pierre  and  his  wife — my  com 
and  my  lost  love — were  seated 
the  bed-side,  conversing  in  low  tc 
and  making  plans  for  their  future 
piness.  I  gathered  from  their  talk 
Mr.  Clinton  had  at  length  relented 
accepted  Pierre  as  his  son-in-l 
although  he  had  at  first  been  furi 
and  swore  he  would  never  speak  ti 
daughter  again.  But  Mary's  1 
and  Pierre's  manly  avowals  tha 
the  fault  of  the  secret  marriage 
his  alone,  had  finally  won  the  day, 
the  father  had  repented  of  his  h 
words  and  forgiven  them — and 
were  happy. 

So  I  lay  and  listened  to  their 
verse,  and  as  she  talked  the  glam 
her  eye  and  the  music  of  her  voice 
out  the  devil  within  me,  and  I  ft 
myself  revolving  plans  of  my 
for  the  luture  of  my  comrade  anc 


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Suddenly  Mary  looked  up  and 
caught  my  eye  riveted  upon  her  fape. 

"  Why,  Pierre,"  she  exclaimed,  "he 
is  awake  ! " 

The  next  instant  Pierre  was  by  rtiy 
side  and  grasping  my  hand. 

"  Lambeth,  my  tried  and  true  friend," 
he  said  in  a  choking  voice,  "  you  sav- 
ed my  life.  I  would  most  assuredly 
have  been  killed  if  I  had  received  that 
bullet.  Your  great  vitality  was  the 
only  thing  that  pulled  you  through.  If 
you  had  not  made  that  heroic  sacrifice, 
Marie,  my  darling,  my  wife,  would 
have  been  a  widow — a  widow — mon 
Dieu !  on  her  wedding  day !  " 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it,"  I  whispered 
hoarsely,  looking  out  over  the  river 
again;  "tell  me  about  the  fight — 
what  happened  after  I  fell?  " 

Pierre's  manner  instantly  changed, 
and  his  eyes  blazed  with  martial  fire 
as  he  related  how  General  Sheaffe  had 
arrived  just  in  time  to  gain  a  great 
victory ;  how  our  men  had  formed  a 
semi-circle,  attacked  the  enemy  from 
the  rear,  and  swept  the  last  shattered 
remnant  up  to  the  cliff  overhanging  the 
river  ;  how  they  had  struggled  vainly 

and  hopelessly  for  a  few  moments  be- 
fore the  resistless  charge  of  our  men, 
and  then,  scrambling,  and  tumbling, 
and  leaping  down  the  cliffs,  and  find- 
ing no  boats  at  their  disposal,  many 
had  plunged  into  the  torrent  and  were 
drowned  ;  while  the  remainder,  to- 
gether with  the  whole  force  stationed 
beneath  the  heights,  amounting  io  all 
to  nearly  a  thousand  men,  had  sur- 
rendered unconditionally  to  General 

"  Ay,  it  was  indeed  a  glorious  day 
for  Canada,"  I  exclaimed  with  enthusi- 

And  then  she  came  up  to  the  cot  and 
took  my  hand  and  looked  into  my 
eyes.    Will  I  ever  forget  that  moment? 

"  And  you  saved  the  life  of  my 
Pierre,"  she  whispered,  holding  my 
hand  and  looking  at  me.  1  dared  not 
speak,  for  my  brain  was  in  a  tumult, 
but  1  read  the  admiration   in  her  eyes. 

"  May  I,  Pierre?  "  she  asked  softly, 
while  the  crimson  dyed  her  glorious 
face,  and,  still  holding  my  hand,  be- 
fore I  could  divine  her  intention  she 
had  stooped  and  kissed  me  on  the 


T^HE  story  of  the  discovery  of  the 
-^  first  diamond  in  South  Africa  is 
told  in  a  MS.  by  the  late  W.  Guydon 
published  recently  in  The  Cape  Illus- 
trated Magaeine.  He  claims  that  the 
Portuguese  long  knew  of  these  treas- 
ures but  thought  it  unsafe  to  reveal 
them  to  the  world.  In  March,  1867, 
however,  the  first  South  African  dia- 
mond was  found  under  peculiar  circum- 
stances which  Dr.  Atherstone  has  thus 
described  : 

"  I  was  sitting  in  my  garden,  in  Beau- 
fort Street,  Grahamstown,  one  Sunday 
in  March,  1867,  when  the  monthlypost- 
man  handed  me  a  letter  from  Colesberg, 

on  opening  which    something  fell  out 
into  the  long  grass.     The    lettei 

from  Mr.  Lorenzo  Boye 
Peace  for  that  district,  of  ^ 
following  is  a  verbatim  copy  : 
Colesberg,  March 

My  I 

k  of  the 
hich  the 


I  enclose  a  stone  which  has  beun  handed  lo 
me  by  Mr.  John  O'Reilly  as  h.a.v\D%  been 
picked  up  on  a  farm  on  the  Hope  Town  dis- 
trict, and  as  he  thinks  il  of  some  value,  1  send 
the  same  to  you    to  examine,  which  you  must 

Voura  very  sincerely, 

L.   BovES. 

"The  letter  was  not  registered  or 
sealed,  simply  fastened  by  gum  in  the 
usual  way.     After  an  excited  search  1 

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found  the  stone,  ran  with  it  to  my 
laboratory,  took  its  specific  gravity  and 
hardness,  etc.,  and  at  once  decided  that 
it  was  a  genuine  diamond.  My  reply 
was  equally  laconic: — '  Your  stone  is 
a  diamond,  31  carats,  and  worth  about 
j£8oo.  Please  seal  the  next,  as  this 
was  nearly  lost  on  opening  the  let- 

"  I  showed  the  stone  the  same  day 
to  my  neighbour.  Bishop  Ricardo,  who 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  smilingly 
said,  '  Why  there  are  thousands  ot 
those  in  the  bed  of  the  Orange  River.' 

"  '  So  much  the  better,'  said  I.  '  They 
must  be  all  diamonds.'  The  next  day 
I  took  it  to  our  Lieut. -Governor,  who 
kindly  said  his  A.  D.C.,  Mr.  Byng,  who 
was  going  the  following  week  to  Cape 
Town,  would  give  it  to  the  Colonial 
Secretary.  No  one  in  Grahamstown 
would  believe  that  it  was  a  diamond. 

"  Perceiving  the  importance  of  such 
a  discovery  to  the  Colony,  1  at  once 
wrote  to  the  Hon.  Richard  Southy, 
Colonial  Secretary,  announcing  the 
fact,  and  suggesting  that  diamonds 
should  be  sent  to  the  Paris  Exhibition, 
and  afterwards  sold  for  the  benefit  of 
the  finder.  On  receipt  of  my  letter  the 
Colonial  Secretary  at  once  telegraphed 
to  me  to  send  it  to  him  and  he  would 
deliver  it  to  the  Crown  Agent  for 
transmission  to  the  Paris  Exhibition. 
At  Cape  Town  it  was  recognized  by 
Mr.  Herrieth,  the  French  Consul,  the 
Capidary  Houd,  and  other  competent 
judges,  and  was  subsequently  sent 
through  Emanuel's  (the  jeweller's) 
house  in  London,  to  the  Paris  Exhibi- 
tion in  1 87 1,  and  purchased  by  the 
Governor  of  the  Cape  Colony,  Sir 
Philip  Wodehouse  for  ^^500. 

"  Meanwhile  Emanuel  sent  a  com- 
petent geologist,  Mr.  J.  R.  Gregory,  to 
verify  the  discovery.  Finding  the 
whole  of  the  country  volcanic,  he 
naturally    concluded    that     diamonds 

could  not  exist  there  now;  if  there  had 
been  any  fraud  or  imposture  with  re- 
gard to  the  discovery  of  Cape  diamonds 
it  would  have  been  in  connection  with 
the  above-mentioned  stone,  the  first  to 
be  proved  genuine,  but  I  think  subse- 
quent events  have  proved  that  my 
theory  was  correct,  viz  : — that  the 
diamonds  could  and  did  exist  in  the 
throat  of  the  volcano  produced  by  the 
former  union  of  this  continent  with  the 
southern  part  of  Asia.'  When  these 
two  continents  were  still  united,  the 
rainfall  of  both  was  accumulated  dur- 
ing the  cretaceous  age,  and  was  dam- 
med up,  forming  lakes  above  the  mines. 
The  water  gained  access  through  fis- 
sures of  the  molten  rocks  below,  and 
the  pent-up  steam,  escaping  in  the  line 
of  least  resistance,  showered  forth 
ashes,  mud,  rounded  fragments  of 
older  rocks  and  lava.  ' 

' '  That  this  condition  of  aifairs  really 
existed,  has  been  proved  by  the  fossil 
remains  of  creatures  living  in  those 
lakes,  which  epochs  of  the  world's  his- 
tory have  been  amply  explained  by 
Professor  Owen  Seeley  and  others, 
(though  it  has  not  yet  received  the 
sanction  of  savants  in  general]  even 
when  the  final  bursting  of  the  barriers 
which  once  united  the  two  continents 
took  place,  the  Island  of  Madagascar 
being  the  only  link  remaining. 

"  Two  years  afterwards  I  visited  the 
mines,  which  now  all  the  world  knows 

"  Mr.  Emanuel  took  an  exact  copy 
of  the  first  diamond,  scratched  as  it 
was,  which  he  gave  me,  and  also  of 
the  uncut  Dudley  Diamond,  '  Star  of 
Smith  Africa, '  for  which  ;^ao,ooo  was 

"  The  history  of  the  arrival  of  Cecil 
Rhodes  upon  the  scene,  and  his  subse- 
quent acquisition  of  a  new  continent  to 
the  Empire  of  our  Queen,  is  too  well 
known  to  need  mention  here." 

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r  has  been  said  that  '*  horse-racing 
in  some  shape  or  form  will  always 
carried  on  where  the  English  lan- 
lage  is  spoken."  To  express  the 
iiole  truth  this  does  not  necessarily 
ean  that  every  horse-race  is  popular 
th  speakers  of  English.  With  them 
popular  race  must  be  free  from  base 
id  defrauding  influences.  They  be- 
;ve  there  is  room  for  the  existence  of 
e  sport  as  affording  a  source  of  plea- 
re  and  an  encouragement  to  the  im- 
ovement  of  the  breed  of  horses.  So 
r  as  horse-racing  does  not  extend 
yond  these  bounds  it  is  popular 
where  the  English  language  is  spo- 
n.l'  But  when  it  becomes  a  busi- 
ss  it  is  no  longer  popular,  for  as  a 
siness  it  is  likely  to  be  degrading. 
)  arouse  general  interest  the  race 
jst  be  absolutely  free  from  the  sem- 
ince  of  a  deal ;  it  must  not  be  con- 
ited  for  the  amount  of  the  prize 
)ne,  the  victory  must  be  an  honour 
the  winner. 

We  can  then  readily  understand  why 
e  annual  race  for  the  Queen's  Plate, 
lich  is  run  by  the  Ontario  Jockey 
ub  on  the  Woodbine  track  at  To- 
nto,  is  the  greatest  race  in  Canada, 
fulfils  the  conditions  of  a  "  popular  " 
ce  more  closely  than  does  any  other 
inadian  event.  It  is  a  race  for  a 
ize  of  fifty  guineas  given  by  Her 
ajesty  Queen  Victoria  from  her  privy 
rse  to  the  winner  of  a  mlle-and-a- 
arter  running  race,  only  those  horses 
contest  that' have  never  been  out- 
le  of  Canada  and  have  never  won  a 
:e.  The  purse  is  small  ;  it  is  the 
nour  that  is  coveted,  not  the  money. 
le  prize  does  not  cover  the  training 
penses  in  most  cases.  The  race  ts 
certain,  for  the  contesting  horses 
ve  no  records  ;  there  is  opportunity 
'  speculation,  and  this  lends  a  charm 
It  appeals  to  the  public  It  is  a  race 
the  people,  not  of  the  close  followers 
the  track.  It  does  not  bring  out 
;  best  racers  of  the  continent ;  the 

qualifications  necessarily  exclude  even 
the  best  provlnce-breds,  yet  the  general 
public  does  not  mind  that.  It  is  a  race 
that  encourages  good  breeding,  that 
affords  good  sport  and  high  honour. 
It  is,  in  short,  a  race  of  the  highest 
standard.  These  features  please  a 
discriminating  public,  and  the  people 
make  it  the  greatest  race  la  Canada. 

Moreover,  it  links  the  popular  love 
of  sovereignty  with  that  of  sport.  The 
Queen  donates  the  prize,  it  is  her  race, 
and  anything  monarchical  appeals  to 
popular  sympathy.  None  other  than 
the  Queen's  Plate  concludes  to  the  tune 
of  "  God  Save  the  Queen."  As  the  race 
has  now  been  run  continuously  for 
forty  years,  it  is  the  oldest  fixture  in 
America.  Consequently  there  has 
grown  about  the  Queen's  Plate  a  body 
of  traditions  giving  it  that  dignified 
reputation  that  sets  it  above  every, 
other  race. 

Every  year  the  Plate  grows  in  popu- 
lar favour.  Each  year  the  crowd  thai 
dotFs  hats  to  "  God  Save  the  Queen  " 
grows  larger,  and  each  year  the  name 
of  the  winner  is  awaited  throughout 
the  country  with  growing  expectancy. 
The  occasion  of  the  race  has  now  be- 
come one  of  the  greatest  society  events 
of  the  Queen  City.  Of  late  years  it 
has  been  run  fittingly  on  the  Queen's 
Birthday,  and  the  bright  spring  holiday 
air  that  prevails  lends  its  additional 
charm.  It  is  a  question  whether  the 
description  of  the  dresses  in  the  society 
columns  in  the  newspapers  is  not 
longer  than  the  report  ot  the  sporting 
editor.  It  has  been  of  late  the  occa- 
sion of  a  visit  of  the  Govern  or- Gen  era) 
and  the  Vice-regal  party.  The  Lieuten- 
ant-Governor usually  attends,  while 
other  high  functionaries  of  the  State 
invariably  put  in  an  appearance.  Men 
and  women  who  know  nothing  about 
racing  in  general  can  discuss  intelli- 
gently the  merits  of  the  horses  com- 
peting in  this  event.  One  can  also  say 
with  a  tolerable  certainty  that  there  is 

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no  annual  sporting  event  over  which 
so  much  money  changes  hands.  To 
bet  on  the  Plate  is  regarded  as  some- 
thing approaching  a  privilege  or  duty 
— with  restrictions  of  course  to  the  bet- 
ting classes.  Altc^ether  it  is  the  great- 
est sporting  event  in  Canada  to-day, 
and  seems  likely  to  remain  so  to  a  dis- 
tant future. 

The  Plate  has  always  been  for  pro- 
vioce-breds,  and  there  has  been  little 
change  in  the  conditions  for  competit- 
ors since  it  was  first  given.  The  re- 
gulations now  in  force  are  : 

The  Queen's  Plato:  $[,250  added;  (he 
oldest  lixlure  run  continuously  on  this  conti- 
nent ;  probable  value,  $1,600.  Fihy  ^ineas, 
the  gift  of  Her  Majesty,  with  $i,odo  added 
by  the  club.  The  first  horse  to  receive  the 
g-uineas  and  stakes,  and  $700  added  by  the 
club.  The  second  horse  $200,  and  the  third 
$100.  For  three-year-olds  and  upwards, 
owned,  foaled,  raised  and  trained  in  the  Pro- 
vince of  Ontario,  that  have  never  won  a  race 
either  on  the  flat  or  across  country,  have 
never  left  Canada,  and  have  never  been  for  a 
period  of  more  than  one  month  out  of  this 
province.  One  mile  and  a  quarter.  (A  piece 
of  plate  will  be  presented  by  the  club   to   the 

The  Queen'sbounty  was  first  secured 
for  Canada  in  i860.  Royal  plates  have 
been  given  for  centuries  in  England  as 
an  encouragement  to  horse-racing,  and 
there  were  Queen's  Plates  and  perhaps 
King's  Plates  run  prior  to  i860  in 
Canada.  But  it  is  not  likely  that  the 
colonial  sportsman  had  any  better  au- 
thority for  the  style  and  title  of  the 
race  than  their  own  attachment  to  the 
British  throne  and  to  the  welt-remem- 
bered sports  of  their  native  land.  The 
origin  of  the  present  royal  donation  is 
easily  explained.  A  petition  to  the 
Queen  from  the  Toronto  Turf  Club  was 
sent  to  the  Colonial  Office  by  Sir  Ed- 
mund Head,  the  Govern  or- General, 
April  I,  1859.  The  prayer  of  the  pe- 
titioners was  for  a  Queen's  Plate  of 
fifty  pounds.  On  the  i8th  July  of  the 
same  year  a  despatch  was  sent  from 
London  granting  the  Plate,  "  to  be  run 
for  at  Toronto  or  such  other  place  in 
Upper  Canada  as  Her  Majesty  might 

Since  then  Her  Majesty  has  appointed 
many  places.     For  four  years,    1860- 

1863,  the  race  was 
when,  under  pressui 
Parliament,  the  " 
movable  one,  and 
Guelph,  London,  H 
arines,  Whitby,  1 
Barrie,  Woodstock; 
ton  became  in  tun 
annual  struggle  for 
surpassed  in  acrim 
by  the  yeariy  struj 
cians  for  having  tl 
this,  that  or  the  ( 
By  being  a  spoil  of 
matter  of  a  great  d< 
in  its  early  contests 
to  much  of  that  impi 
attached  to  it.  Y 
spectable  inhabitan 
not  show  much  intt 
fact  which  led  to 
Carlton,  Toronto's  1 
1881  the  Ontario  J 
ganized,  whereby 
lished  on  a  new  bas 
in  1883  Lord  Lornc 
lief  that  the  race  v 
in  accordance  wii 
wishes  if  permanen 
controlled  at  the  h 
Ontario  Jockey  C 
Majesty's  sanction  I 
with  the  promoter! 
that  it  should  reverl 
leave  the  Queen  Ci 
authority  chaos  had 
and  order,  and  thi 
turf  were  almost  eni 
that  since  that  date 
kept  free  from  de 
and  has  continued  1 
favour.  Moreover, 
Toronto  was  centr 
therefore  accessible 
ber  of  people  than 
Ontario.  Since  18I 
run  upon  the  Wood 
a  fixture  for  Toront 
The  race  was  ori 
and  was  so  run  unt 
made  a  two-mile  c 
distance  was  redui 
three-quarters,  but 
only  one  year.  Th 
and  a  half,  and  this 

Digitized  by  Google 



3urse  uadi  1886,  Wild  Rose  beiag-the 
LSt  winner  at  that  distance.  Since 
er  year  it  has  been  a  mile  and  a 

The  most  interestingf  historical  feat- 
re  of  the  Queen's  Plate  since  its 
lauguration  is  the  success  of  the 
Waterloo  horseman,  Mr.  J.  E.  Seagram 
I.  P.  For  eight  years,  from  1891  to 
S98,  the  yellow  and  black,  the  Water- 
10  colours,  came  first  under  the  judges' 
^e  and  in  six  of  these  cases  Mr.  Sea- 
ram  also  captured  the  second  prize, 
[eedless  to  say,  Mr.  Seagram  regards 
lis  record  as  a  triumph  and  ic  has  made 
im  probably  the  greatest  Canadian 
orse-breeder.  All  his  successes  were 
'On  in  a  good  field  of  starters  and  in 
lost  cases  were  hard-earned.  Perhaps 
lore  skilful  riding  has  won  many 
mes  for  the  Waterloo  stables,  for 
Ir.  Seagram  has  provided  himself 
ith  the  best  jockeys  of  the  continent. 

But  the  desire  to  win  Her  Majesty's 
uineas  is  noticeable  in  more  than  the 
t'aterloo  stables.  The  ambition  is  to 
e  found  the  province  over.  When 
[r.  Wm.  Hendrie,  of  Hamilton,  cap- 
ired  first  place  with  his  Butter  Scotch 
I  1899  he  regarded  his  success  as 
luch  a  triumph  as  his  capture  of  the 
uturity  Stakes  with  Martimas.  Three 
iars  ago  a  strong  candidate  for  the 
uineas,  the  strongest  candidate  in 
ict  against  the  Waterloo  stables  dur- 
ig  the  eight  years  of  the  Seagram 
igime,  turned  up  in  eastern  Ontario 
hen  Miss  Jones'  horse.  Wicker,  ran 
erdinand  and  Bon  {no  such  a  hard 
ice.  Wicker  has  been  pronounced 
le  best  horse  that  has  been  beaten  in 
le  contest.  She  certainly  was  unfor- 
inate  in  having  such  strong  com- 
Etitors  as  Ferdinand  and  Bon  Ino. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know 
hich  was  the  best  horse  that  ever 
on  the  Queen's  Plate.  The  best 
me  made  in  the  mile  and  a  quarter 
as  made  by  Ferdinand  in  1897  when 
le  covered  the  distance  in  3. 13.  But 
le  condition  of  the  weather  and  the 
ack  have  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the 

determining  of  the  speed.  No  doubt 
Victorious  has  proved  himself  the 
highest  class  of  horse,  judged  by 
victories  achieved  after  his  maiden 
triumph  in  the  guineas  ;  but  perhaps, 
having  regard  to  the  physical  disabili- 
ties under  which  he  ran,  the  handsome 
but  unfortunate  O'Dooohoe  would 
have  been  even  a  better  race  horse 
than  the  Son  of  Terror  and  Bonnie 
Vic.  At  any  rate,  he  was  better  bred 
and  better  looking,  while  in  all  essen- 
tial working  points  Victorious  had  none 
the  best  of  it.  Bonnie  Bird  ranks 
about  the  best  of  the  others. 

The  following  table  gives  a  concise 
history  of  the  race: 

Don  Juan Carlton 

Wild  Iristinuin Carlton 

. . . .  Palermo Carlton 

. . .  .Touchstone Carlton 

Brunette Guelph 

. . .  .Lady  Norfolk London 

Beacon Hamilton 

Wild  Rose St.  Calharlnes 

.   Nettie Gates'  Track 

. . . .  Bay  Jack London 

....John  Bell Whitby 

. . . .  Floss Kingston 

. . .  .Feamau{^l Ottawa 

. . . .  Mignonette Barrie 

...   Swallow Hamilton 

Tnirapeter Woodstock 

. . . .  Nora  P Woodbine 

Amelia Prescotl 

. . . .  King  George London 

Moss  Rose Piclon 

Bonnie  Bird Ottawa 

. . .  .Vice-Chancellor Toronto 

Fanny  Wiser Toronto 

Roddy  Pringle Toronto 

Williams Toronto 

. . .  .Willie  W Toronto 

....Wild  Rose Toronto 

Bonnie  Duke Toronto 

. . . .  Harry  Cooper Toronto 

...Colonist Toronto 

Kitestring Toronto 

Victorious Toronto 

. . .  .O'Donohoe Toronto 

Marlello Toronto 

Joe  Milleif. Toronto 

. . . .  Bonniefield Toronto 

Millbrook Toronto 

Ferdinand Toronto 

. . . .  Bon  Ino. Toronto 

Butterscotch Toronto 

Dalmoor Toronto 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 


By  E    T.  D.  Chambers. 

SOME  of  the  most  charming  scenes 
in  the  Rev.  Dr.  Henry  Van  Dyke's 
LiUU  Rivers  are  laid  in  that  romantic 
northland  of  Canada,  which  was  prac- 
tically unknown  to  tourists  and  sports- 
men until  the  construction  of  the  Que- 
bec and  Lake  St.  John  railway,  a 
decade  and  a  half  ago.  While  the  cul- 
tured reader  is  captivated  by  the  purity 
and  elegance  of  the  learned  doctor's 
prose,  the  lover  of  nature  is  charmed 
with  those  scenes  of  natural  beauty 
that  are  as  graphically  depicted  by  the 
author's  pen  as  by  the  skill  of  the  illus- 
trator. The  angler  to  whom  Sir  Hum- 
phry Davy  has  familiarized  the  traun 
and  salmo  hucho  fishing,  turns  with 
eager  delight  to  the  doctor's  chapter 
OQ  trout  fishing  in  that  famous  Austrian 
stream,  and  the  tourist  who  is  attract- 
ed by  the  blended  beauty  of  water  and 
landscape,  lingers  in  admiration  over 
the  pictures  of  the  wooded  still  waters 
of  the  Penobscot,  pretty  Ampersand 
lake  and  the  view  entitled  Floating  on 
the  Placid  Cam.  The  stamp  ot  ele- 
gance, nay,  of  something  akin  to 
feminine  grace  and  beauty  and  feshion- 
able  civilization  appears  upon  these 
pretty  prints.  But  the  men  and  women 
belonging  to  the  large  and  constantly 
tDcreasing  class  of  health  and  pleasure- 
seekers  who  prefer  the  wooing  of 
Nature  in  her  wilder  moods  and  more 
primeval  forms,  where  the  conditions 
of  travel  and  of  camp  life  are  more 
nearly  akin  to  those  of  original  man, 
and  where  the  pursuit  of  sport  is 
attended  with  more  of  success  as  well 
as  of  adventure,  will  find  still  more  to 
attract  them  in  the  views  of  the  camp 
on  the  island,  the  Vache  Caille  Falls, 
fishing  in  the  foam,  and  in  the  wild 
descent  of  the  rapids,  entitled  Down 
the  Peribouca,  that  forms  the  frontis- 
piece to  this  famous  book  of  sport  and 
of  travel. 

"  My    Lady   Greygewn,"  who  was 
6  s 

the  doctor's  plucky  companion  on  his 
sporting  trips  into  this  wild  north 
country,  is  not  by  any  means  the  only 
lady  who  has  accompanied  her  husband 
down  the  seething  waters  of  theGrande 
D^charge,  and  every  year  witnesses  an 
increasing  number  of  lady  and  gentle- 
men tourists  in  the  territory  that  has 
become  famous  as  the  home  of  the 

All  lovers  of  the  gentle  Izaak  recall 
his  milkmaid's  song,  commencing 

"  Come  liv 

e  wilh  me  and  be  r 

ny  love. 

And  we 

will  all  the  pleasure 

That  valleys,  groves,  or  hills 

or  field 

Or  woods 

and  ateepy  mounta 

na  yield 

and  Dr.  Van  Dyke's  admirers  were 
afforded  a  new  pleasure  after  his  re- 
turn from  the  land  of  the  ouananiche, 
when  he  gave  them  the  "old  song 
with  a  new  ending,"  consisting  of  the 
four  lines  quoted  above,  with  the  fol- 
lowing original  addition  ; 

"There  we  will  real  our  aleepy heads, 
And  happy  hearts,  on  balsam  beds  ; 

And  every  day  go  forth  to  fish 

In  foaming  streams  for  ouananiche." 

Many  a  happy  honeymoon  has  been 
spent  within  these  last  few  years  at 
the  Hotel  Roberval  overlooking  Lake 
St.  John — the  old  Pikouagami  of  the 
Montagnais  Indians.  Nowadays  it 
"is  the  fashionable  things  for  those  who 
follow  Mr.  Howells'  hero  and  heroine 
on  a  tour  of  the  Saguenay,  to  visit, 
first  of  all,  the  cradle  of  that  dark, 
mysterious  river  at  Lake  St.  John,  by 
way  of  the  Quebec  and  Lake  St.  John 
railway,  that  traverses  for  190  miles 
the  Laurentian  Mountains,  the  oldest 
mountain  chain  on  the  face  of  the 
globe.  It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine 
a  more  attractive  ride  than  this  through 
a  forest-clad  mountainous  country, 
picturesquely  dotted  with  lakes  of 
various  sizes,  sometimes  rocky  crags 
hundreds  of  feet  in  height  overhang 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 



the  railway.  At  others  the  traia  winds 
its  way  around  thesharply  curved  edge 
of  precipitous  heights,  whence  the 
traveller  may  gaze  perpendicularly 
down  into  a  ravine,  many,  many  scores 
of  yards  below. 

The  only  signs  of  civilization  to  be 
seeo  along  two-thirds  of  the  length 
of  the  railway,  are  the  ctub-houses  or 
landing  places  of  the  various  fish  and 
game  clubs  who  lease  fishing  and 
hunting  privileges  from  the  Govern- 
ment. Some  of  these  clubs  are  Cana- 
dian. Maay  more  are  composed 
almost  exclusively  of  Americans.  Some 
of  them  have  as  many  as  a  hundred 
and  fifty  members,  and  have  erected 
club-houses  costing  $10,000  each. 
Many  of  them  control  from  four  to  five 
hundred  square  miles  of  territory  each, 
where  moose  and  caribou  are  plentiful 
and  speckled  trout  of  seven  and  eight 
pounds  are  to  be  caught. 

An  even  vaster  club  than  has  been  is 
now  in  process  of  formation  in  Eng- 
land and  the  United  States.  The 
price  of  membership  is  S500,  and  even 
at  this  figure,  no  less  than  5,000  mem- 
bers are  looked  for.  Of  course  these 
figures  cease  to  be  surprising  when  it 
is  borne  ia  mind  that  membership  in 
the  Restigouche  Salmon  Club  costs 
$7,500,  and  that  the  new  organization 
expects  to  control  many  more  miles  of 
salmon  fishing  than  the  Restigouche 
club  has  ever  owned.  Its  prospectus 
states  that  it  controls  the  fishing  in  the 
waters  of  thirty  thousand  square  miles 
of  territory,  and  salmon  fry  have  al- 
ready been  planted  in  many  of  the 
more  important  rivers,  while  ouanan- 
iche  and  trout  are  most  abundant.  In 
the  acquiring  of  property  for  club 
purposes,  such  as  fishing  and  hunting 
rights,  real  estate  for  club-houses, 
steamers,  etc.,  the  members  of  the 
club  calculate  upon  the  expenditure  of 
a  million  and  a  half  to  two  million  dollars 
in  the  Lake  St.  John  district. 

The  enormous  rivers  that  flow  into 
Lake  St.  John,  such  as  the  Ashuap- 
mouchouan,  the  Mistassini  and  the 
Peribonca  are  from  three  to  five 
hundred  miles  in  length.  By  ascend- 
ing them  to  their  head  waters  in  the 

birch-bark  canoes  of  Montag^nais 
Indian  guides,  the  sources  may  easily 
be  reached  by  them  of  many  of  the 
streams  that  flow  from  the  interior  of 
Labrador  into  James  Bay,  Ungava 
Bay,  Hamilton  Inlet  and  the  Gulf  of 
St.  Lawrence.  All  the  country  drained 
by  these  rivers  is  dotted  by  lakes,  upon 
many  of  which  the  angler's  flies  have 
never  been  cast  and  the  eyes  of  a  white 
man  have  yet  to  rest. 

An  enormous  trade  development  is 
taking  part  in  the  Lake  St.  John 
country.  The  rich  farming  lands  south 
aiid  west  of  the  lake  furnish  immense 
quantities  of  cheese  to  the  Quebec  and 
Montreal  markets,  and  the  larger  part 
of  the  deal  trade  of  the  port  of  Quebec 
is  furnished  to  it  by  the  Quebec  and 
Lake  St.  John  country.  Its  enormous 
forest  lands  furnish  logs  for  many  milb, 
and  the  next  few  years  will  witness  the 
investment  of  many  millions  of  dollars 
in  the  pulp  industry  in  this  section  of 
the  country.  According  to  the  statistics 
collected  by  the  Quebec  Government's 
department  of  lands,  forests  and  fish- 
eries, the  Lake  St.  John  territory  is  so 
lavishly  supplied  with  pulp  wood,  that 
its  first  cut  will  yield  a  product  of  al- 
most a  hundred  million  cords,  sufficient 
to  supply  seventy  milhon  tons  of  pulp. 

The  rivers  of  this  territory  are  of- 
ficially declared  to  be  capable  of  furnish- 
ing over  650,000  horse  power,  which 
exceeds  that  of  all  the  rivers  in  Sweden 
and  Norway,  where  the  pulp  industry 
is  carried  on  to  so  considerable  an  ex- 
tent. Several  applications  are  at 
present  before  the  Government  for 
water  powers  and  pulp  wood  limits, 
both  from  American  and  English 
capitalists.  There  is  already  a  very 
tai^e  pulp  mill  at  Chicoutimi,  which  is 
about  to  be  enlarged  to  four  times  its 
present  capacity,  and  two  dilTereDt 
syndicates  that  propose  to  operate  on 
the  Grande  D^charge  of  Lake  St.  John 
talk  of  investing  from  two  to  five 
millions  of  dollars  in  the  same  tD- 
dustry.  And  yet  the  extent  of  territory 
in  this  Lake  St.  John  region  is  so  great 
that  tours  of  hundreds  of  miles  nay  be 
made  by  portage  and  canoe  without 
the  sight  of  a  single  human  habitation. 

Digitized  byGoOgIC 

RENT  Events  Abr^ 

by    W.  Ss\nford    £.v&ns 

A  GAIN  has  China>become  a  stortn- 
-^~*-     centre.     This  time  the  immediate 
cause  is  not  the  jealousies  of  the  foreign 
powers  engaged  in    the  exploitation  of 
that  country,  but  a  rising'  of  a  large 
section  of  the  native  population,  direct- 
ed, apparently,  against  all  foreigners. 
It    is  not   at    all    surprising   that    the 
Chinese  should  resent  foreign  encroach- 
ment.      They  would  have  lost  the  last 
spark    of  political  manliness    if    they 
accepted  the  situation  with  indifference. 
And    we  know,  as   evidenced  by  that 
attachment  to  the  soil  of  his  country 
ivhich  makes    every  Chinaman  desire 
to  be  buried  in  China,  that  there  is  still 
-left  a   rudimentary  kind  of  patriotism. 
As  bearing  materially  upoa  the  present 
situation  we  must  keep  in    mind   that 
the  rulers  of  China  are  not  Chinese  at 
all,  but  Tartars.     A  partial  parallel  is 
found    in  the    case   of  the    British  in 
India.       About  350,000  military  fami- 
lies, differing  in  race  and  customs  from 
the  mass  of  the  inhabitants,  living  in 
cantonments,  occupy  the  chief  admin- 
istrative positions  and  are  supported 
by  money  extorted 
from    the     people. 
They  maintain  their 
position  by  keeping 
the    Chinese   in    a 
state    of   almost 
hopeless  ignorance 
and  by  keeping  their 
spirit  crushed.    De- 
spite  their  efforts, 
however,    there    is 
chronic  rebellion.  In 
1 898    a   somewhat 
formidable     move- 
ment developed  un- 
der  the   leadership 
of  educated    Chin- 
ese.     Itwasabout       .,„,  — ..  ^, 

of  the  Emperor  to  reforms  calculated 
to  meet  the  most  reasonable  demands 
of  the  Chinese.  The  Empress  Dow- 
ager put  a  stop  to  what  promised 
a  betterment  in  the  condition  of  the 
country  by  seizing  power  and  adopting 
drastic  measures  against  the  reformers. 
Chiefly,  no  doubt,  for  the  purpose  of 
diverting  the  attention  of  the  Chinese 
from  their  Manchu  rulers,  she  recently 
issued  edicts  instructing  her  viceroys 
to  resist  further  foreign  aggression. 
It  would  not  be  hard  to  persuade  the 
people  that  the  foreigners  we  re  enemies. 
We  may  thus  hold  her  largely  respon- 
sible for  the  recent  attacks.  There  is 
no  evidence  to  show  that  the  Chinese 
themselves  would  be  opposed  to  inter- 
course with  western  peoples  if  they 
were  not  kept  in  enforced  ignorance. 
There  is  much  evidence  to  the  contrary. 
ItistheManchus  who  are  the  schemers. 
But  the  Chinese  may  be  expected  to  be 
opposed  to  foreign  domination.  If  the 
Manchu  dynasty,  with  its  corrupt  and 
heartless  supporters,  could  be  got  rid 
of,  there  might  be  some  hope  for  China 



Kang  -  Yuwei 
tained    the    assent 


AustnUift  blames  the  outbreak  of  the  Bubonic  pla^e  on  the  n 

Digitized  byCjOOgle 



—Pitt^mrgh  Despatdt. 

from  the  natural  forces  of  evolution. 
But  it  is  hard  to  see  how  this  can  be 
accomplished,  unless  the  Boxers  can 
hold  the  foreign  troops  in  check  suffi- 
ciently long  to  turn  their  attention  to 
their  Tartar  oppressors.  They  will 
certainly  do  this  if  they  have  the  op- 
portunity. This,  howttver,  the  foreign 
powers  cannot  well  permit,  for  in  the 
process  all  foreigners  would  be  mas- 
sacred and  all  foreign  property  des- 
troyed. And  the  loss  of  life  among 
the  natives  would  be  appalling,  for  they 
kill  promiscuously.  In  the  great  Tai- 
Ping  rebellion,  which  "Chinese"  Gor- 
don finally  put  down,  and  which  was 
a  rebellion  against  the  Manchus,  it  is 
commonly  stated  that  the  incredible 
number  of  30,000,000  persons  perished. 
The  civilized  world  could  not  permit  a 
repetition  of  such  slaughter  and  would, 
therefore,  hardly  be  justified  in  stand- 
ing off  to  see  the  Chinese  work  out  their 
own  salvation.  Thus  is  the  situation 
in  China  one  of  extreme  difficulty,  quite 
apart  from  the  jealou.<;  ambitions  of  the 
foreign  powers. 

J)    * 

From  what  we  can  learn  the  Boxers 

were  originally   a   peaceful    organiza- 

tion, which  has  suddenly,  and,  per- 
haps, without  serious  premeditation, 
taken  the  aggressive.  They  have 
rallied  to  them  vast  numbers,  and 
present  a  motley  host  of  bloodthirsty 
but  ill-armed  men.  They  have  mur- 
dered foreigners,  burned  houses,  torn 
up  railway  tracks,  cut  telephone  wires, 
and  have  been  bold  enough  even  to 
attack  foreign  troops.  The  Imperial 
troops  have  marched  against  them  on 
many  occasions,  but  have  either  march- 
ed back  again,  or  fled  back  again, 
without  imposing  any  check.  The 
Empress  Dowager  has  undoubtedly 
Connived  at  the  rebellion,  if  not  taken 
means  to  instigate  it.  But  there  is* 
occasion  to  believe  that  she  is  realizing 
she  has  raised  a  tumult  which  she  can- 
not control,  and  which  threatens  the 
power  of  the  Manchus  even  more  than 
that  of  the  foreigners.  The  question 
in  everyone's  mind  is  :^To  what  ex- 
tent is  Russian  intrigue  responsible 
for  the  outbreak  ?  It  has  occurred  at 
a  time  when  Britain  is  largely  tied  up 
in  South  Africa,  and  when  Russia 
happens  to  have  in  the  Far  East,  not 
only  a  greater  force  of  men  than  the 
British,  but  also  a  greater  number  of 
warships.  It  is  not  impossible,  of 
course,  that  Russia  has  had  some 
influence  on  the  attitude  taken  by  the 
Empress  Dowager,  and  it  can  be  seen 
how  Russia  might  find  opportunities 
she  could  turn  to  account.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  when,  Britain,  Japan, 
Germany,  the  United  States  and  Italy 
are  cleared  for  action,  it  would  seem 
to  be  a  bad  time  to  try  any  sharp  prac- 
tice. We  can  account  for  all  that  has 
happened  without  looking  to  Russian 
intrigue.  According  to  Mr.  Wynd- 
ham's  statement,  the  powers  are  work- 
ing harmoniously  together.  If  the 
powers  control  Pekin  and  the  road  to 
the  sea,  and  can  unite  on  some  man 
to  act  as  another  Gordon,  the  insur- 
rection can  be  quelled.  But  there  are 
possibilities  of  the  gravest  complica- 
tions. At  the  time  of  going  to  press 
the  position  of  the  foreigners  tn  Pekin 
are  perilous  in  the  extreme,  and  the 
reinforcements  under  Admiral  Sey- 
mour',  moving  up  the   railway   from 

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Tien-Tsin,    are    being    harassed  and 
have,  perhaps,  been  blocked. 

On  June  5,  Lord  Roberts  entered 
Pretoria.  In  Canada  the  occasion  was 
anticipated  by  a  few  days  with  a  re* 
markable  outburst  of  jubilation,  which 
showed,  among:  other  things,  that  we 
have  felt  the  strain  of  anxiety  during 
the  past  few  months.  Contrary,  how* 
ever,  to  general  expectation,  the  occu- 
pation of  Pretoria  has  not  proved  a 
crushing  blow  to  the  Boers.  It  was 
followed  by  a  revival  of  the  fighting 
spirit  among  them.  Commandant  Bo- 
tha's defence  of  his  position,  fifteen 
miles  east  of  Pretoria,  was,  perhaps, 
the  most  skilful  work  of  this  able  lead- 
er. But  he  was  outnumbered  and  out* 
generalled  by  Lord  Roberts.  The  com- 
prehensiveness, predsion  and  energy 
of  Lord  Roberts'  campaign  are  a  con- 
tinual object  of  admiration.  We  can 
see,  as  phase  after  phase  of  the  war 
appears,  just  why  every  move  was 
made — why  troops  were  sent  by  way 
Beira ;  why  Hunter  was  moved  up  the 
line  to  Vryburg ;  why  BuUer's  advance 
was  so  timed  ;  and  why  Methuen,  Bra- 
bant and  Rundle  were  left  behind  in 
the  Orange  River  Colony.  There  were 
forces  enough  under  command  of  these 
latter  generals  to  hold  the  Boers  in 
check  until  Buller  and  Lord  Roberts 
had  completely  closed  the  gap  to  the 
north,  but  through  lack  of  shrewdness 
somewhere  minor  disasters  occurred, 
reminiscent  of  the  earlier  stages  of  the 
war.  At  the  same